#ok if youre seeing this in the tag please see the reblogged post addition its so funny | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

suchababie · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 38,961 times in 2021

1019 posts created (3%)

37942 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 37.2 posts.

I added 19,231 tags in 2021

#barbequeue - 4619 posts

#mcu - 3897 posts

#chris evans - 2035 posts

#bucky barnes - 1961 posts

#q - 1531 posts

#marvel - 1239 posts

#sebastian stan - 1155 posts

#steve rogers - 1093 posts

#henry cavill - 855 posts

#stucky - 846 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#my sole purpose of existence is being here on tumblr simping for white men who are either fictional or dont know who i am in real life lmao

My Top Posts in 2021

hii, can you please rec some tony stark fanfic blogs?

Omg hiiii!!!! Of course!!! I’d gladly rec you some of tony stark fanfic writers out hereeee @kamalahkhan

And i just wanna add, the exact reason why i joined this hellsite last year is to come and search for more tony stark fanfics ahahahaha 💓💓💓💓

This list may change if i ever miss some blogs :))) i would like to apologize if i ever miss someone but when i do remember i will immediately put an addition here edited 11/1/21

@letsby , @mostly-marvel-musings , @another-stark-sub @patheticallysentimental @boop-le-snoot @slothspaghettiwrites @slut4tonystark , @tonystarkscumslutz @buckyownsmylife ‘s let me try fic @russiandoll-from-brooklyn ‘s just once part 1 and 2 , @sherrybaby14 , @shewhohangsoutincemeteries ,@avengerscompound also known as @emilyevanston , @canumoveurseatup-no @thran-duils has some dark tony fics @darsynia @bolontiku @ironlady1993 has some tony stark dark fics @heavenbarnes has some short tony drabbles also her three-part fic ‘Battle of the Egos’ is 😩💜💜

I just know there are a lot of tony stark fanfic writers out there. I’m sorry i’m limited w these bc my brain has a short memory storage sksksksk

To the wonderful blogs that I have tagged, maybe you can lend me a hand in here?? ☺️☺️☺️☺️💓💓💓💓💓

139 notes • Posted 2021-10-14 14:32:27 GMT

Thank you @pepper-stark for the tag! 😄🥰✨💕

Rules: Name 7 comfort films and tag 7 people

In no particular order

Clueless

The Craft

Mean Girls

10 Things I Hate About You

The Breakfast Club

Miss Congeniality 1 and 2

Before Sunrise

Captain America : The Winter Soldier

BONUS (SORRY I CANT HELP IT):

•Thor: Ragnarok

•Legally Blonde

•White Chicks

Tagging! @babyboibucky @bitchassbucky @sarge-barnes-sir @yeet-me-out-tonight @mariestark @bloggingfromherbed @msmarvelwrites @countonthesun @lookiamtrying @whoth3hellisbucky

LMAO i went pass the limit 😌 its ok tho

ALSO anyone can join!!! I suck at tagging games in general

178 notes • Posted 2021-05-19 12:32:48 GMT

Frank Adler x reader

A short impromptu drabble based on this post and this gif below eheheheh deleted the other post so that it won’t disturb the OP

Also there might be changes bc as i said, impromptu 😂 never planned this. An idea just came out from my head looking at this gif

Oh my god this gif is giving me thots

18+ under the cut (just a short impromptu imagine. Not edited lmao) please like, rb and comment if you like it :)))

Imagine teasing frank by sending provocative pictures of yourself with your sweetest innocent face and then he texts back saying ‘I’ll be there in 10 minutes. I expect you to lay in your back, legs spread with your panties and my shirt on.’ You got all excited that you quickly took off your shorts and positioned yourself in the bed the way he liked.

By the time you heard the front door slam, you can feel your panties pool with your wetness as you gripped the bed sheets at the sides. He isn’t there in the room yet and yet you’re so turned on by the thought of your Frank seeing you vulnerable like this. You just wanted nothing but all of him. It’s what it matters to you right now.

You were so preoccupied with your filthy thoughts that you didn’t know he was already by the bedroom door, eyes endeavoring your sweet body spread out on the sheet and lips smirking. “You’re in it for a wild ride, sweetheart.”

199 notes • Posted 2021-09-07 17:00:19 GMT

Thots +18 under the cut. This is my first ever smut posted on Tumblr! Finally able to post it!!! And ngl i’m nervous ahahaha :) (tbh i feel nauseous of how nervous i am) . Shoutout to @bemine-bucky, @borikenlove, and @spicynudlesoup who witnessed the thirst I had for him that time lmao. Instead of Chris Evans RPF, I made it to Ari Levinson bc i love him

Pairing: Ari Levinson x reader

word count: 1,079

WARNINGS: NOT BETA’D. ALL OF THE MISTAKES ARE MY OWN.18+ ONLY. MINORS DNI. D/S dynamics, light dry humping if you squint, breath play (light choking), petnames, light degradation, language, allusions to punishment and smut. I think that’s it? please let me know if there are anymore warning that i didn’t include.

I give no permission to repost this work to any other media outlets. If you like it, reblogs are also very much appreciated. Comments are also a very good plus! <3

Imagine being a little lonely in a small house you and your boyfriend Ari shared, home near the beach where you can hear the birds chirping loudly as they try to hunt for fish and the soft and peaceful sea crashing along the shore. Ari told you that he was a little busy like usual, planning for his next mission in god knows where. He was dedicated to his work because he loved helping those who are in need, you understand that and you loved that for him, but you didn’t like it when he was too much invested in it and left you alone on your own.

You were his very supportive, understanding, and loving girlfriend. You were his very good girlfriend. You always take care of him, obedient to him. But this time, it was getting on your nerves. You had enough for being good for him, and you wanted to be rebellious once in a while.

So you threw into a cute pleated mini skirt that you bought a few days ago, a pair of cream colored knee socks that had ruffles decorated around your knees, and your favorite shirt, his worn out patterned white shirt that you twisted the front of it and tied, making it look like a crop top. You checked yourself in the mirror and put on your best bambi look, the look that Ari couldn’t resist.

You prepared some light snacks for him since it was still in the middle of the afternoon. You placed the food on the tray. Your sock clad feet softly padded against the cold floor as you grip the wooden tray tightly. You were a little nervous that this stunt was going to happen. How would Ari react? This was very unusual for you to do this; to defy him a little. Your mind raced with different kinds of scenarios which made your stomach churn lightly, yet your pussy had a mind of its own, she was already throbbing. You could feel your arousal seeping through your panties.

You were now in front of the door where Ari was in. Rustling of papers and his raspy voice that sounded like he was on call, you can hear his deep raspy voice behind the door which made your lower region tingle in anticipation and your toes curl. You took a deep breath, mumbling under your breath that you could do it before your already sweaty hand reached for the knob and twisted clockwise.

The door flew open, which made Ari startle by its creaking hinges. He looked at you, narrowing his eyes as you strutted inside, ignoring his daggers through the back of your skull as you made your way to the coffee table.

“Sir, I have to call you back,” he said to the phone and without hearing the receiver, he immediately ended it and tossed the device to the piled papers.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” Ari gritted his teeth, his arms folded against his chest as you still ignored him, but you could feel your heart beating a little harder against your rib cage. You bent your upper body down a little, making your little skirt rise a little as you slowly placed the tray on the table.

You bit your lip with a smile when you heard a breath hitched behind you. You could tell that he could already see your open slit panties beneath the godforsaken skirt; your pretty petals had its own heartbeat with your own nectar coating around it, begging for it to be touched and sucked.

“Son of a bitch.” Ari muttered under his breath, his hands turned into fists and he didn't waste time. He strutted towards you, wrapped his arm around your waist and his other hand on your neck. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” He punctuated every word, each word had him rutting his already tented crotch against your ass, no doubt the crotch of his jeans coated with your sweet arousal that had leaked already in your inner thighs to the tight muscle of your as. You whimpered, because you were so turned on and also you were a little scared of what he would do to you.

Ari had his chin resting on your shoulder, and he smirked. He barely even touched you, but he could already hear you panting. He felt bad for you just a tiny bit, because he was so busy with work that he neglected his precious girl. Right now, his precious girl was being a bad girl.

He tutted, tightening his grip on your neck a little that had you gripping his strong forearm. “Have I been neglecting you, sweetheart?” He asked, his breath tickled your ear and his beard that you absolutely loved stroked against your jaw, leaving prickles against your skin that had your hands gripping firmly on his arm.

“Answer me.” He growled, releasing a grip a little and tightening it again. He was playing with you, like a doll that you are. “Yes.” You managed to squeak, tears in your eyes threatened to spill, not because he was hurting you; but because you wanted him to use you.

“It’s been a week, Ari.” You sniffed. You can feel him smiling against your ear. “Well, why didn’t you say so, honey?”

He released his grip from your neck and your waist, pushing you harshly towards the

Couch that led you to stumble and land on the cushion on your knees.

“Bend over.” He commanded and you know better than to disobey him. You obliged, bending over that your chest reached the back of the couch’s back pillows and your knees were slightly raised from the cushion. You jerked a little when you felt his warm fingers touch the back of your exposed thighs, skimming the skin lightly like he was touching a delicate virgin, even if you were very far from one.

“You wanna be a slut?” He rhetorically asked, you just kept your mouth shut with your hands gripping the pillow tightly and your legs almost giving out.

“I’ll fucking treat you like one.” And with that, he flipped your skirt to your waist, completely exposing him with your drenched cunt. He swatted in between your inner thighs to signal you to open them wider and you did. “Good luck, baby. Because I don’t know when I’ll stop until I feel satisfied with my work.”

“Just so you know, I’m gonna fucking wreck you that you deserve.”

238 notes • Posted 2021-08-12 17:00:57 GMT

I saw this on facebook (dont judge me. I still hate facebook tho)

OKAY first of all, please don't judge me bwdfuhwvuieqhwgbi i used to have no life before i got my job skskskskssksk

And i think its beautiful

388 notes • Posted 2021-04-03 07:56:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #vixen's personals #vixen's collectibles #long post #tw long post

9 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years ago

Note

Hi Steph!

I’m sorry it’s my first time sending you an ask, so I dunno which button I clicked man. Sorry about that.

Ok, so what I wanted to request! I love your blog. You’re really kind and genuine, and I’ve found some great fics to light up my day from here. But sometimes, the posts are suuupppeeerr long, and I may not be looking for this info exactly? Like it clogs up a lot of my dash. So I wanted to request if you could use a “read more” feature after a brief, at least for the fic rec posts.

I hope I didn’t offend or anything. Thank u for all the kindness you put into the world each day. Have a good day fren!

Hey Nonny!

Ahh, okay, you’re not going to like what I am going to say, but you are very respectful and were smart and sandwiched your issue in compliments, so Ahhhh, I feel conflicted now.

With all due respect Nonny, this is my blog and I get more engagement on my lists if people can see the full list; many people prefer it that way, and honestly I get crapped on either way, so I’ve made the executive decision to not cut my posts. The only time I do is on “second” reblog on super long LONG lists so that I have a “cut” and “uncut” version of the post, but even those I’ve been reducing.

I’ve tried both ways, and full posts get better notice. All I want to do is share my love of fics and content with y’all, and the best way to do that is to just have it all there so people know what they’re getting.

Plus, am I to just “readmore” every single reply on my posts? A lot of the reason my blog has stayed as long as it has is because I’ve always been a very interactive blog. People LIKE seeing their replies added to a comment thread on my post, and it helps smaller blogs get noticed. It’s not much on the surface, but I’ve had smaller blogs come to me DELIGHTED that their name is now attached to one of my posts that are going through a “popular reblog cycle” (that is, a post that is being interacted with for a good few days before I actually finally add it to the month-reblog queue). It helps create a sense of community, I feel, and that’s one of the things I am very honoured to be: a starting place for community.

And this is just in a general sense and NOT directed at you, more at the people who shit on me in the notes of my long posts, but I don’t GET people getting upset about my TEXT BASED POST WITH NO IMAGES IN IT, but not on any of the image or playlist posts I reblog, which take FOREVER to load on mobile. I GENUINELY don’t get it. I don’t even use the app on my phone, I’m logged into the browser on my phone, because the app is garbage.

The problem is the app, in my opinion. That’s the gist of it. It loads slow, it scrolls terribly, and the UI is annoying, but instead app users blame the bloggers and not the fact that Tumblr staff ignore every suggestion we make. And because more of the newer people use their mobiles these days, us old-time Tumblr users are expected to microblog like the shitty sites that are Twitter or Facebook. Tumblr is a blogging platform, like LiveJournal, laid out all nicely and clean and honestly, (the royal you) you’re getting exactly what you signed up for: long posts, opinions, and interaction. If one wants shitty layouts, shitty comment threads you can’t follow and reactionaries, go to Twitter. Call me a boomer, whatever, I just find Tumblr so much more appealing now more than ever.

Sorry, I’ve needed to get this off my chest for awhile now. I don’t know. Maybe I’m being pedantic. I don’t care, really. My thoughts on this: if (the royal) you don’t like the content, or find stuff annoying, don’t follow me.

Because you know what a lot of my longest posts are? Helpline numbers at the bottom of posts. Useful links. And just stuff that make people happy. People in despair are not going to click on a read more of a post. People who want links to resources aren’t going to click on a read more. People who just want happiness after a stressful day are literally just scrolling to smile, and they ain’t gonna click a read more.

YES, there are reasons read mores are good, absolutely. I just PERSONALLY don’t like them because I like engagement. I don’t get much of it anymore on my posts, EXCEPT the fic rec posts, and THOSE work better as a full view.

BUT NONNY PLEASE KNOW I AM NOT UPSET AT ALL WITH YOU, and you’ve given me a great opportunity to discuss this thing that I’ve put off for awhile because the other people were less-than-kind, and it only made me NOT address it out of simple spite because I’m nothing if not a passive aggressive old lady.

So, here are a few ideas you can implement:

If you like my posts but not the longest ones, I always tag them “long post”. Tumblr finally has its own tag blocking feature, so just block “long post”. All of my very long lists will be blocked, and you can decide if you want to click on them based on what the additional tags are. I try my best to tag all my lists appropriately.

Similarly, you can “tag block” my username, and only click on the posts you like the tags for.

DON’T TAKE THIS THE WRONG WAY, PLEASE, this isn’t a “so there!” comment, I promise!!: You can unfollow me if you’re only following me for the fic lists, and instead follow me on Twitter at @inevitablyjohn1, which is used only to promote my new lists and art. Every Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday I post up the Wednesday Reblog, Five Fics Friday, Fic Rec Roundup, and Fic Rec Sunday, with a link to each post :) Then you’ll get all the lovely full lists I post 4 times a week. OF COURSE, this is the option I don’t want to happen, because I love all my lovelies and you’ll miss out on the random fics, insightful asks, and suggestions I get throughout the week, BUT I want you to enjoy your time on Tumblr, and if my blog is causing you stress, it’s the last thing I want to happen. I love all of y’all too much to see that!

THAT ALL SAID, Nonny, I’m really sorry to disappoint you, and I hope you understand my POV on this. I just don’t see any benefit on my part, for MY blog, which I run for MY happiness which has the side effect of making other people happy. I also hope you will still stick around regardless, but I care about your well being and I understand if you have to leave.

AND everyone, please don’t be harsh on this Nonny! They asked a question respectfully and deserve our respect in kind.

I truly wish you the loveliest of days, Nonny, and have a great week! <3

#steph replies #my blog #blog things #tumblr things #ironically:#long post #Anonymous

57 notes · View notes

hellroots · 3 years ago

Text

『 MOBILE FRIENDLY RULES 』

— here you will find my rules or can also find them on my gdocs as well once i’m done with it. please like this if you read it, but otherwise don’t interact with this post, thank you. rest assured that i always read my moots rules before following and that i fully expect the same courtesy. i tried not to let them get too long but feel free to ask me anything you wanna know about them if it’s not clear ok?

『 THE MUN』

NOXTROMUN, THEY/THEM, 21+, BRAZILIAN

shy but friendly ! i don't follow for follow, if i follow you that means i've read your rules and want to write with you. i have no triggers nor squicks of my own except drama in the dash, for that reason i do not engage in callouts/witch hunts and if you do it on a constant basis i might have to hard block you for my own peace of mind. although i may come off too strong/harsh, i am always up to talking things out privately. as long as you are civil, so am i. any form of hate will be deleted and blocked - sometimes mocked, if i’m feeling cocky…

『 THE BLOG』

HELLROOTS, INDIE ( POTENTIALLY TRIGGERING AND NOT MINOR FRIENDLY ), HIGHLY SELECTIVE & PRIVATE MULTIFANDOM MULTIMUSE

primarily run on a low activity \ effort and with a slow speed.. my muselist changes a lot, depends a lot on what i’m watching lately so bear with me please. this is a drama free zone, therefore do realise that mun ≠ muses and (obviously) writing ≠ condoning !! as a quick note, do keep in mind that my blog is my safe space, just as your blog is yours - you are responsible for your own internet experience just as i am responsible for mine. should anything in my blog annoy/trigger/squick you, i strongly encourage you to block me & not write with me - your mental health is far more important ( for me, and hopefully for you as well ) than rp. on that note, please do not softblock me - that’s annoying, just hardblock please.

『 THE TRIGGERS』

TRIGGER HEAVY, PROPERLY TAGGED AND TAKING NO CRAP

i usually tend to write for trigger heavy fandoms (such as asoiaf, kingdom and others) and may incorporate some of it into my writing, muses' backgrounds and overall characterization. if you're bothered \ squicked \ triggered by that, i kindly encourage you to reconsider and not follow me. no amount of rp fun is worth your mental health. i try to tag everything accordingly and i fully expect the same courtesy for our followers' sakes. be aware that there may be mentions of death, gore, violence, consanguinamory \ endogamy (especially when it comes to the lannisters and kekkei genkai clans), rape ( kingdom, though it will only be mentioned on the character’s backstory ) and cannibalism ( hannibal and kingdom ) , as well as unhealthy relationships and dynamics alongside with powerplay, and otherwise bad behaviours. for all that is sacred, please, do note that i, the mun, do not approve, support or condone any of these actions or behaviours !! i simply am capable of separating fiction from reality. as long as everything is properly tagged, with mutual consent and there are no minors involved (muse and especially not muns), . i support the right of a consenting adult to explore these awful dark topics in a safe fictional environment with other like minded consenting adults, people shouldn’t have to share their traumas to strangers on the internet to explain why they write what they write, be considerate. if that notion bothers you perhaps you might not want to interact with me, for both of ours sakes. fair warning, most of my graphics and aesthetics might trigger those who have xylophobia/hylophobia (phobia of trees or wooded areas), and considering it is a main theme here i will not be tagging it, i'm sorry. but its too many. however, if you want me to create a special tag for you, there's no issue! it will be either "[your mun name] don't look!" or "[your url] don't look!", whichever you prefer. QUICK EDIT/ADDITION: i do not believe that aging up fictional characters is inherently a bad thing - from what i understand, the whole appeal of aging up a character is that while you like their personality but you do not want them to be kids (for whatever reason) but insteasd adults. if you are one of those who think that aging up a character is automatically something bad (without even knowing why it was done in the first place) don’t bother following me because i do think that opinion is quite silly.

『 THE INTERACTIONS』

OC, DUPLICATE, MULTIMUSE AND CANON DIVERGENT FRIENDLY

my tagging system is simple, i tag triggers as "tw; x" and . images that may be sensitive or triggering as "cw; x". you can further see how my tags work by taking a look at my tag dump post, just search ‘tag dump’ on my blog and you will find the most recent one i’m using. i shitpost and talk oocly on the dash constantly but you can easily blacklist my tag if it bothers you. here's something you should know about me: when i'm doing drafts i usually don't feel like chatting much, so please do not spam me because i won't be able to reply, i love to talk with my moots but sometimes it overwhelms me. on that note, please don't pester me for replies ic or ooc, i am slow and chances are that if you try to guilt trip me or just nag me about it i'll leave as the ones i'll get to in the later end on purpose, just out of spite. yes, i be like that. please be patient - i’ll never pressure you and expect the same in return. plotting wise: i prefer to just wing it with just a faint idea of where to take the thread but honestly i'm cool with anything. please be considerate when formatting your replies, i have a bad eyesight & if i can't read it, i won't bother with it. my own formatting is simple and clean. on a smaller note, please bear with me and my muses as my muses ramble a lot but you don't have to match the length, just give me something to work with. if we write together, the chances of me making edits/tagging you in stuff are really big, just lmk if you don’t like that though !

『 THE FLEET』

MOSTLY BI/PAN MUSES, MULTISHIP AND MULTIVERSE, SMUT FRIENDLY

i love shipping but i like my ships to be devices to move the plot/dynamics/muses forward, every once in a while though i partake in some much loved self indulgent shipping. just because i ship a certain pairing don't presume that my characters are approaching yours with second intentions, please. most of the time i like to reblog those relationship memes, so if you’re interested in a ship the best way (other than sending me a message ofc) to let me know is by sending ones. there will be some triggering ships here ( like the lannisters, both cersei x jaime and joanna x tywin are my otps, and potential inter clan ships, like with the hyugas - i mean how the hell you think they keep the byakugan in their family?? ) that may either be played with trusted friends or be mentioned/reblogged sometimes, all properly tagged so you can easily blocklist/avoid it. most of my muses are either bi or pan, those who are not will be specified. don't be afraid to reach out to me for shipping right off the bat - i'd rather have you to be open and honest with me about the interactions you want than lying to me, just know that there will be needed some plotting and threading first to see if your muses match. as an adult, my blog is smut friendly, i partake in sexual sunday a lot because some of my muses are very lewd in nature, you can blacklist my tag if that bothers you as well.

『 THE FINAL NOTES』

GENERAL RP ETIQUETTE APPLIES, CREDITS, THANK YOU FOR READING MY RULES

lastly but not least, general rp etiquette applies on my blog: no godmodding, forced ships, etc. there’s only ONE thing that truly makes me go apeshit crazy, and it’s when people don’t read my rules. i ALWAYS find out and it’s not pretty; i block it like it’s hot, ♪ ♫ ♬ block it like it’s hot ♪ ♫ ♬. i strongly assure you that i always read your rules before both following you and also before sending memes, just in case. on a much smaller note, i’m not so hot on single shipping and i really feel weirded out about people forcing me to pic who i’m going to interact with due to theirs DNI’s. while i get DNI’s when it comes to actual predators, when it’s something seemingly random chances are that i’ll softblock you because it weirds me out how volatile some can be when it comes to a hobby. i have some trigger heavy hcs ( for example, the one about jiraiya’s hypersexuality being rooted in trauma that he suffered at a young age ) that i share with only a few muns that are closer with me, so i’ll be mentioning them every once in a while but won’t share them, please don’t insist. i don’t really like most of the main characters of the franchises i write for, and when it comes to certain characters i reserve the right to decline an rp for my own comfort. for further info on what i use to make my graphics please check my “CREDITS.” tag. most of my stuff is made by me, i’ve got a lowkey rph in case you wanna check it out it’s @brazucahelps, however if you want a custom content i can see if i get a free time to come up with something :D

IF YOU READ THIS FAR, THANK YOU SO MUCH — JUST ONE LAST THING, COULD YOU PLS LIKE THIS SO I KNOW YOU’VE READ IT? <3 THANKS!

#RULES.

18 notes · View notes

meetthemoosemonster · 4 years ago

Text

*Enderman noises*

Hey yall, I wrote a Ranboo fanfic and thought I’d post the link on here so its with all the other things that I write and show random people on the internet!

*Enderman noises* (1918 words) by nika_write_snow Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Ranboo & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF) Characters: Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) Additional Tags: Mentioned Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dadza, Enderman Hybrid Ranboo (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Panic Attacks Summary:

Ranboo finds out he has one of Tommys disks, Philza notices the ruined property value and parents the scared enderboy.

"here is the ao3 link, tell me if it doesnt work or something.

Summary:

Ranboo finds out he has one of Tommys disks, Philza notices the ruined property value and parents the scared enderboy.

What I wished happened after Ranboo found the disk, with Dadza because I have Parent Issues (yup, its not just one of them, hahahahahahahahaha)

Characters:

Ranboo

Philza

Content Warnings:

Panic attacks Mild injury That's all I think, but if I missed one please tell me so I can fix it!

Under the cut is the full work, remember, Reblogs fuel the writing braincell!

Purple particles buzzed around Ranboo, his body also vibrating as his breath sped up and his brain grew foggy. This happens sometimes, when things got really bad, and Ranboos memory really started to slip, or he was just straight up panicking. The half enderman boy was sat shaking in front of an open chest surrounded by dug up dirt and soft looking snowflakes that bit at Ranboos skin. He was staring blankly at the green disk in the chest, making vwoops and crackly noises each time the reality of his situation hit him. The enderman hybrid shook his head, making more aggressive enderman noises for a second, then tried to take a deep breath.

‘You're ok, You're ok. Dream isn't here right now. Dream can’t-’

‘I have cat. I have one of Tommys discs. I have one of THE DISCS. Dream gave ME one of THE DISCS? Why? Why would Dream do that? Why would he trust me with something that gave him so much control over Tommy? What did I do?’

‘You didn't do anything, you would have written it down in your memory book, you would’ve, wouldn't you?’

‘Would I? I didn't write down that I blew up the community house, but I definitely did that, right? I mean, I had that tnt, it must have been me. I just didn't write it down cause I didn't want to remember. What else am I forgetting? What else did I do that was so bad that I didn't even write it down? What else did I want to forget about? What else-’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philza was looking through chests looking for glass. The honey farm had broken again, and he needed bottles to fix it.

“This chest system is still scuffed from Tommy, that gremlin child really doesn't know organization does he.” Phil shook his wings in exasperation. He was still looking for the glass when he heard the sounds of an upset enderman. Confused why Edward was so riled up, Phil looked over at the enderman sat awkwardly in a boat, the mobs limbs too long to fit inside. Phil only got more concerned when he saw that Edward was only making small, concerned vwoops after the more aggressive noises, head was turned to look out the window towards Ranboos shack.

Phil followed the endermans gaze to look at Ranboos shack through the window and sucked in a breath. What used to be a snowy lawn in front of Ranboos makeshift base was now a big hole of messily dug up dirt. Phil could see Ranboos figure, looking eerily small for his actual towering height, hunched over in front of a small chest, a shovel shimmering on the ground next to him. But what concerned Phil the most were the enderman noises coming from the area. Phil had heard Ranboo make some enderman noises before when he talked to Edward, and a couple in passing to himself, he'd never seen such loud scared crackles and vibrating noises from him before. Another small worried vwoop from Edward grounded Phil enough to realize that this kid probably needed help. Phil grabbed his coat and wrapped it awkwardly around his wings before he rushed out the door and headed to where Ranboo was.

As Phil approached, he could clearly see the cloud of purple particles around Ranboo, who appeared to be shaking, no, vibrating. His suit was wet from the melted snow, and plastered to his body, and Phil flinched remembering how much water could hurt enderman. His hair was also soaking, the white and black strands dripping. There was an indent where his crown would usually be, but Phil could see the red and green jewel encrusted golden band a couple blocks away, in one of the deeper areas of the damage. Phils footsteps slowed the closer he got to the dug up lawn, trying not to scare the kid with heavy footsteps on snow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ranboo was trying to breath. ‘In, out, in, out, in, out, in, out, in- Does it even matter?’ He understood better now why he might have wanted to forget. It would be easier to not remember the chest or its contents, ‘Traitor’, Dreams voice in his head, his panic room. But the thought of forgetting and then finding out what he'd done when his friends, ‘Are they my friends?’, found out what he had done filled his body with terror and caused his eyes to well up with tears. It felt familiar. ‘Why does it feel familiar?’ The air around Ranboo felt like it was vibrating with the enderman hybrid and the particles that circled around him, and the glitchy noises started getting louder.

‘Stop thinking, stop, STOP, STOP THINKING.’ Ranboo let out the enderman equivalent of a scream, and then winced as he felt tears fall down the sides of his face, leaving burning trails of pain.

“Hey, Mate, you okay?” Ranboo jolted at Phils soft voice, a small surprised vwoop coming out.

“Oh, Oh, um, yeah” Ranboo said quickly, hastily trying to close the chest in front of him, but accidentally slamming the lid on his thumb as his shaky hands fumbled with it. “Im fine, I was just uh…..” He trailed off, not having a good explanation for the mess that he made other than the truth. And he couldn't tell Phil that. ‘But you can! You should, so you stop betraying everyone.’

“Mhm…” Phil hummed skeptically as he looked at the chaos, but decided not to press. He looked back at Ranboo, who was shakily trying to stand up, but then had to sit back down, his body too exhausted and painful. Ranboo looked up for a second, locking eyes with the winged man standing cautiously in front of him. He realized his mistake too late, and was too exhausted to stop the instinctual reaction. He felt his jaw fall and the air begin to buzz intensely all over again. He felt defensive beyond reason, like he always did when he lost control while making eye contact. Luckily, Phil noticed Ranboo tense up and saw his jaw fall, showing off purple glowing teeth like spikes and looked down, breaking eye contact. His gaze found the black and white mask Ranboo usually had covering his mouth was on the ground next to them, soaked and abandoned.

“How about you come into Technos house with me so we can get you dried up, Ok?” Phil was still looking at the ground, and couldn't see if Ranboo was calmer now, but he felt the buzzing particles in the air fade significantly at his quiet words. Phil dared to glance back at the soaking white and black kid, and relaxed when he saw Ranboo was also looking down, more out of exhaustion than anything, but definitely more calm now. His jaw was back where it usually was, and he was no longer vibrating intensely.

“Ok, here, let me pick up your crown and mask, and then we can head back to the house.” When he had put the 2 items away he held out his hand to Ranboo who took it carefully, almost as if he was afraid it would be snatched back. But it wasn't, and Phil helped Ranboo stand up, and started to lead the boy through the snow, leaving the chest behind them. Ranboo leaned against the significantly shorter man next to him, stumbling through the snow, his brain foggy from the pain and fear. Philza felt him shaking slightly, and nearly pulled away, worried that the enderman hybrid was panicking again. Almost immediately he realized that Ranboo was just shivering from the cold, being in a soaking wet suit surrounded by snow was going to make nearly anyone freezing cold, Enderman hybrids being no exception. Phil freed one of his wings from his coat and wrapped it around the kid to warm him up, not caring that he would have to deal with wet feathers later.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they reached the house Phil got Ranboo a spare bed, which the boy flopped gratefully down on. Phil chuckled quietly for a second before grabbing a set of antarctic empire style clothes and placing them on the bed.

“Don’t go to sleep yet mate, you need to change out of those wet clothes so you don't hurt yourself anymore.” Ranboo slowly nodded as he sat back up and ran his shivering hands over the soft material of the clothes. Phil started towards the stairs, then looked back for a second.

“I'll be right back with something warm for you to drink so you can warm up quicker, and a health pot or 2 so we can take care of the water damage. Once you're done with that you can sleep, Ok?” Ranboo mumbled something that Phil took as an agreement, and headed the stairs.

Ranboo changed into the fuzzy clothes as quick as his shivering, tired body would let him, too tired to question why the clothes fit him perfectly despite the fact that he towered over Phil, Techno, and Tommy too. He sat back down before his legs could give out again and sighed, feeling himself getting warmer.

His eyes were beginning to fall closed when he heard Phils foot footsteps and looked over to Philza, who was holding a steaming mug in one hand, and a health potion in the other. He also had a towel draped over his arm. Phil handed the enderman hybrid the health potion first, which he drank quickly, and then the towel. Ranboo just wrapped it around his head, too tired to put anymore effort into drying his hair. The bed shifted slightly as Phil sat down on the bed, maneuvering his wings around so he could give Ranboo space. Ranboo took the mug of what he could now tell was hot chocolate and began to take small, experimental sips.

After a bit he pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned against Phils body, still taking small sips of his drink. Phil smiled at the boy and slowly wrapped his wings around them both, hoping it would help warm up Ranboo faster. When the enderman hybrid was done with his drink he closed his eyes and let his head rest on Phils shoulder, letting out a small sigh before he fell asleep. Phil didn't move for a bit, only moving his hand to carefully take the mug out of the others hand, and he settled down for a while, just thinking about the day's whole ordeal. Questions filled his brain. ‘Why did Ranboo dig up all that area so messily? What was even in that chest, and why was he so obviously scared of me seeing it? Why was he so scared?’ Phil tried his best to just brush them off, he would ask Ranboo another day, when he was more calm, and feeling better.

Some time had passed by now, and Philzas wings were beginning to cramp, so he gently laid the boy down on the bed, and carefully threw a thick blanket over him. Ranboo looked very peaceful in this moment, small vwoops coming out occasionally, but he didn't sound distressed. Phil smiled for a second before he grabbed the pile of wet clothes and took them upstairs to get washed and dried with the mask. Ranboo felt safe and warm for the first time in a long time, and he was content, dreaming about defeating a dragon with a steak or something, snuggled under the warm blanket. Who knows, dreams are weird.

Thank you for reading! If you got to this point I wish you the most amazing day, thank you!

#dreamsmp #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #ranboo #philza #ranboo fanfic #philza fanfiction #my writing #*Enderman noises*#fanfiction #dream smp fanfiction #nika writes now #PLS REBLOG!#IT SUPPORTS ME MORE THAN LIKES DO!

19 notes · View notes

eligos-venator · 4 years ago

Text

In regards to Villainy

I’ve been watching the villain post make its rounds and reblogged it earlier quietly with a small rant in the tags about personal concerns of my own. It’s shown up multiple times since then to where I feel some clarification is required on my part personally, as Eligos’s writer.

Communication and mutual agreement is required on all sides in RP, and nobody gets a free pass to do whatever they please because of some label that helps define their typical position in a roleplay. My gear gremlin was made for me as a player to enjoy watching him learn and grow as a person, and to provide minor inconveniences for other players should they wish him to get in their way as a way to help provide character growth for their muses. Not to be some big bad boss who gets their jollies by harming others. And I will not change him to suit anyone’s personal tastes but my own.

Read on if you want to see my whole take on this. Or not.

Let’s start with what the definition of villain actually means, given it’s a vaguer concept than most would like to think:

Definition of villain

1: a character in a story or play who opposes the hero 2: a deliberate scoundrel or criminal 3: one blamed for a particular evil or difficulty

These definitions are a rough guideline, but overall, all it takes to fall into the category of being a villain is a willingness to oppose a hero, regardless of reasoning or intent. Even in a clash of two heroes, you could call one the villain in that particular story for how they oppose the other. It’s a matter of perspective. One could be the villain of a story merely because they aim for the opposite goal of the hero of that tale, even if both end goals are suitably noble in the scheme of things. We often see in literary works that the villains of stories oft have either selfish or noble intentions, and in the case of the latter, what turns them into villains is how they view the world and how they may have let other important aspects fall to the wayside in their single-minded devotion to their goal.

Rarely is it that a good villain is written to be cruel and harsh for its own sake. The villain’s view of the world may be twisted, but there’s always an element of logic and reason, the same as you might see in a heroic character. Even initially good motivations and desires can be twisted into something absolutely horrendous and monstrous with the right pulls of the string in a character’s history. Some can have their world views changed for the better with time, while others struggle in vain to understand to the bitter end. But that’s how the cookie crumbles. Not all endings are happy, and not every character deserves a happy ending in a story book, especially so when considering how many that they have made suffer through their actions. But by that consideration, heroes aren’t above similar karmic justice as well, simply because they wore the mantle of hero. Nor are they automatically entitled to their happy ending. Harming others, regardless of role one sees themselves in a story, inevitably begets wrath and a desire for similar harm upon the one who originally inflicted it. And while that may lead to interesting interactions, it doesn’t always unfold in a way where things work out where each party gets their just desserts as people believe they should. We watch what happens as a story unfolds, and the job of the mun in roleplay is to portray the character as their motivations, desires, and ethics would bid them do, be it for weal or woe.

But there are additional aspects to keep in mind when roleplaying, and it isn’t simply limited to keeping to the character. Communication ahead of time, and discussing what is acceptable, what isn’t, and what one expects to come of roleplay with another, must all be done in order to ensure things go in a manner both parties are ok with what may happen and are on the same page. There never should be any ‘well that’s what my character would do’ bullshit when it comes to discussing boundaries and hard limits on what one finds acceptable versus unacceptable in roleplay. If you feel your character would not be able to be played in a manner in which you prefer due to said boundaries or rules, it is best to find roleplay elsewhere. To push or pressure one into ignoring their own personal comforts and boundaries is unacceptable. Even when walking up to someone, there still is an expectation of some communication on an out of character level should you intend to harm their character. This isn’t reserved only for villains to do. That’s placing undue burden on one player type while relaxing standards for the rest. All players must heed this if communication is to be healthy, in order to avoid crossed wires.

Which brings us to concerns people run across in roleplay. There indeed are players who play a character type due to the power fantasy, and do not properly communicate with their fellow players, nor keep in mind what they may face for their actions. Please note how I did not specify sides. In my time in roleplay, I have seen many players of heroes pull the same exact thing that they are so quick to accuse villain players of: ignoring what consequences they would logically face for misdeeds and attacking others in the street, as well as attempting to kill without communication or agreement on an OOC level, on top of trying to maim and cripple characters in permanent ways over small slights, such as spilling a beer on them, or harsh words exchanged. All of this, with not a single word of communication or planning ahead of time. One person falling into one side or the other between ‘hero’ and ‘villain’ does not give them a free pass for such behavior. It’s reprehensible behavior no matter who does it, and using the OOC information that someone happens to play as a character on the other side of what one considers good or evil as reasoning for a free license to do so is even moreso. Actions have consequences, no matter what side you are on. It is better and more interesting roleplay to roll with the consequences of a muse’s actions than it is to straight up ignore them. Talk shit, get hit. Hit someone, be hit in return. No party should expect a blanket immunity due to what they consider themselves. But neither should players feel they are given an automatic pass or ability to control the fate of another’s character. That’s still up to the writer of the character themselves, regardless of how much you may dislike the character being portrayed.

In particular, I’ve seen a disturbing number of individuals who feel it is within rights to execute player characters with zero communication out of character, and it’s mostly the players who play the ‘good’ characters saying this. If you feel you have an innate right to execute a character played by another, without any sort of communication ahead of time, you may be better off writing by yourself than with others. No player is allowed to force character death on another, regardless of the roles played. You may discuss and plan, and plot ways any encounter may go, but the moment one tries to bully or force another player into killing their character off, regardless of why, they have gone too far and should not be surprised if the player in question chooses to remove themselves from the roleplay or ignore it entirely.

In regards to the claims of that the guards would not allow such characters in, that is ignoring just how vast a city is and the limited number of troops that would be there to patrol, in comparison to the rest of the populace. What we see ingame doesn’t necessarily correlate to the actual size of each location, as areas have been limited in size both due to technical limitations of the game as well as to ensure a relative amount of convenience for the players.

Certainly, should a character with a bounty and known face get noticed for their deeds or a guard is called for, they should be prepared to potentially face consequences for their actions or try to escape. Actions have consequences. But one cannot simply whip up a dozen super-powered city guard NPCS to try to execute another player simply because they dislike that the player is not playing the type they want them to. Especially if the character in question may not even have a wanted poster or have done anything that would warrant the guard’s attention. That is gatekeeping roleplay at its finest, deciding who should be where based on personal preferences with little regard to others beyond personal feelings. By that sort of standard, any player who disliked someone else could do the same and merely claim that the face is close enough to a bounty that they should be killed on sight. Better to alert a player of a guard character and let them handle it, if you do want to have guards interfere, or plot with said character’s player to see how guards can be involved and then step in if they are agreeable to such. If not, drop it and either watch, or ignore. Whipping up random NPCs to do your bidding and to try to force someone out of roleplay without any discussion will not encourage people to do as you expect, and instead is more likely to earn you a spot on the block list.

Often times, a player character that falls on the villain side of the spectrum may not necessarily have a bounty because they have handled their personal situations or misdeeds in a way that keeps them under the radar, or they are skirting the line between legal and illegal. Assuming that all deeds are known and skipping straight to confrontation is poor form at the least and is considered metagaming. No player gets a free pass to do that. Many villain players have rules that one must adhere to when engaging their characters precisely because as players we’ve all seen people assume what our character would and wouldn’t be let known, or what they would say, and then run with it without even a word to us as the player of said villain. The rules we have are used to avoid such mischaracterization and help ensure that communication is healthy on all sides. Players of both sides get particularly upset when key details are left out and things they do not want nor did they agree ahead of time to are sprung on them.

Finally, a character does not represent the writer. A character may adore strawberries and peanuts, but the writer may be highly allergic to where they are sent into shock even on mild contact with either of them and thus loathes them. And what a character may think of said foods may also differ drastically between what the writer thinks of them as a result of those differences. This is the difference between in character and out of character. I explain it as such as I have seen the community grow progressively worse over time in understanding that what one’s character may do may not necessarily reflect the writer’s view in real life at all. Too many see a character that is morally questionable and believe that the writer behind them will behave in the exact same way as the character, and that how the character may see things is no different than how the player does. If you struggle to comprehend that a character does not necessarily represent the player, then you misunderstand what roleplaying is. It is not merely and only inserting yourself into a game setting down to the last detail. You may do that, but others have just as much right to write out something different, and approach a character not from a perspective of how they themselves feel, but from a point of analyzing of how someone who experienced the history forged for the character might behave and in doing so explore the resulting mindset.

Such history may scar a character or traumatize in a way that brings out behaviors that the player themselves would never consider till they sit down and consider just how the character may respond after all factors are taken into account. Just because one character hates something or someone does not mean that the writer does as well. Darker characters and villains often have traumas that skew their views to some degree, but just because the writer has taken the time to consider what that may result in does not mean they require therapy themselves as a person or that they share those same views or ideals. To say so and paint all players with such a broad brush and claim them to be mentally unwell is disgusting and indicates that, as a player, one cannot separate themselves from their character enough to comprehend that others are able to portray views other than their own personal set of beliefs held as a person. It also discourages dialogue, as it shows an innate, hostile bias, and there are not many that are willing to put up with such hostility and narrow-mindedness as it is being aimed at them as a person and attacking them as a person rather than disliking the character forged. You cannot expect someone to willingly listen and try to see your side when attacked on a personal level for little more than having made something you dislike seeing in your personal roleplay. If you dislike it, don’t interact or involve such a character in your plot line. If they ask for your view, you can always provide constructive criticism, but if you offer it unbidden you should not expect it to be listened to or taken. Especially if it is very clear from how you approach it that your problem is personally with the player and not the details or how they portrayed the character.

As a personal example, Eligos would be categorized as a villain. He works for whoever pays him the most as a minion, and while he mostly does perfectly legal work, he absolutely has done less-than-legal work and then carefully covered up his misdeeds after by pulling the strings of the people who owe him favors. He is considered a villain mainly as he will do whatever he is allowed to within his contract in order to succeed, and often times finds himself working for the wrong [losing] side because his messed-up priorities led him to see the extra money offered as indication of good faith in his abilities and also valuing him as an asset, and not being able to see why acting on behalf of someone he thinks valued him more is a bad thing. He will work with anyone if he’s given a good enough reason or money, or against them if someone else makes a better offer. He won’t kick puppies or harm kittens, or hurt anyone unnecessarily, and if it does boil down to combat, it’s something I absolutely discuss ahead of time to find out limitations and also what one desires to see happen, so that personal growth for the character he is facing off against or with has that opportunity to grow and learn as a person. If someone says they dislike something? That’s now off the table and no longer up for discussion, period. But by virtue of his poor life choices and habitually finding himself on the wrong side of conflict due to his values, he is a villain, through and through.

But playing a character like him isn’t a simple power fantasy made to flex virtual muscles. There’s easier and simpler options, and if I wanted to do that, I’d have just made a hero, as those characters tend to not be analyzed so hard for compliance as villains are. If Eligos had been made to be some stupid power fantasy and nothing more, he’d not be yeeted into a wall half as often as he has by both those around him and his own tools malfunctioning. Nor am I mentally unwell and think the same way he does, simply because I let him say and do the shit that he does. I personally dislike many of his life choices, but do find it amusing to watch him go, and then pile on karma later for all of his misdeeds so he regrets his actions later. He’s an arrogant little gear gremlin who exists to help further stories of others while providing entertaining moments. Just because one individual personally may not see the karma carried out or get to execute him simply as they dislike him doesn’t mean he gets away with no consequences for his actions. As the player, I decide how to punish him. Not others. Him being a villain does not strip me of that right and give it to you simply because you dislike seeing him around.

#mun speaks #mun rants #villain

32 notes · View notes

the-crow-dawns-at-midnight · 4 years ago

Text

for the spoopy times!

Just a notice here. Bc October is inching closer there are a few things I wanna go over...

But before I get into it, please feel free to reblog with additional stuff(or just feel free to reblog) bc I feel this is important stuff but I may not cover it all.

[warnings: there are bold, cap, and italic things. also talks about food, and triggers(i dont go into detail) but lemme know if I need to tag it for you I dont mind going back and doing that for you!]

1. Be considerate.

- Not everyone celebrates Halloween, and that’s ok.

- not everyone likes Halloween, that’s ok as well!

if you ask why and they don’t wanna tell you, leave it at that. In fact, when/if you decide to ask. Instead of saying “you don’t celebrate it!! Why not?!” Or “why would you not like it? What’s not to like?”

Try saying “do you mind if I ask why not?”

2. not everyone likes scary

- this covers all scary things: books, film, art, outfits, events ect.

also someone could enjoy a scary movie, but not scary costumes. someone could enjoy dressing up scary, watching scary movies, but maybe they don’t like going to a hunted house.

- its totally ok to enjoy Halloween, but not wanna be scared. there is plenty to do during Halloween that doesn't include getting scared. eg I dont like dressing scray, or going to scary events, but I do like to watch a scary show every now and then[if with a lot of people lol]. my sister however, loves everything scary.

2.2. some people really like scary

- and that is totally ok! you can enjoy watching horror films, dressing up spooky. reading, drawing AND going to scary events!

if someone dose like that, dont be like ”why would you like to get scared?!” some people like that and its totally ok.

3. If possible try and get some allergy friendly/alternative options for trick or treaters

- some kids/people cant have normal candy. be it an allergy, or something else.[i am not sure what all this could be so please feel free to add to this part/let me know!] braces are a thing that prevents kids from some candy! idk what else tho but I know there are a lot of things.

-so im gonna make a list here of things I know would be good alternitives:

cheep: dollor store toys [or stores like that] just silly fun stupid toys that will last like 2 hours. and cost you 50 cents. its way more fun to get those sticky hands, than it is to get a pencil.

pricey: allergy friendly food brands tend to have some good candy. although they are a little more pricey:

Enjoy life. free form 14 top allergies. they have really good chocolate [that is also dairy free.] and for halloween they do some bundles I think. for people with allergies: its all made in a dedicated gluten and peanut[and more I think youd have to check for your specific allergy] free building.

Wholesome. GUMMYS! p good. [its also free from a lot of stuff. check their page to see if its good for you]

Black Forest. also for gummys! [better than wholesome, but more expencive]

those brands are certified - meaning people with allergies don’t have to worry about it. let me know if the links dont work.

there are many brands that are safe from things, but aren’t certified. just look up allergy free candy. I highly recommend looking up Celiac free candy, bc if it Celiac free its also most likely free from dairy and peanuts as well.

4. Triggers!!

- be mindful of triggers. If you aren’t sure if your post is triggering, go ahead and tag it. In fact

- always tag what’s in your post! Especially art! Bc tumblr is great, but it can’t filter and image unless you put in the tags (or post) some words about what it is.

- some tags you can put are “scary tw” “tw halloween” if you do art of like monsters and aren’t really sure what tag to use just put “monsters” or “tw monsters”/“monsters tw” it’s seriously that easy.

if someone asks you to tag it, be chill and just tag it. even if you dont understand why, you dont have to understand it to know that someone just asked you v nicly to tag it...

- some people have triggers that are v v prominent during Halloween. I myself have quite a few triggers of things that are v popular during Halloween. So I personally am not really looking forward to Halloween. [i do love halloween i am just not looking forward to people forgetting to tag things]

ok thats all I’ve got! if you have any questions feel free to ask! my dms/asks are always open!

if you have something to add, please go for it! [just dont start arguments or anything].

if I got something wrong/left something out and you dont wanna reblog this and add it, just lemme know and I will do it for you[anxiety can be rough sometimes I get it]!

final thing: stay safe, healthy, happy, and help others stay that way as well!

#Halloween Rules #i guess #ask to tag #feel free to add on!

4 notes · View notes

1-1snailxd-art · 5 years ago

Text

The Shield to your Sword

Masterlist ———- Chapter 2

Warnings: injury, blood, physical abuse, emotional abuse (please message me if more need to be added)

word count: 6544

Tag Support Team - Thank you for your support 💜

@small-reptile-cake @daflangstlairde @quoth-the-sparrow @it-me-the-phi @soul-of-a-vixen @the-real-wholesome-bitch @phe-purple-parade-ts @littleladynightshade

Beginning Note: Hey 👋 so this chapter includes some art done by @fanartfunart (I’ve included a link below the image to see their Tumblr post). Now, please please please do not repost this art. This means, do not COPY and PASTE (or screenshot) it onto your own post on any social media channel. If you like the art, reblog the Tumblr post. Respect the artist and give them the love and appreciation they deserve

Summary: Chance meetings can be shocking but often play a big part. Patton makes a new friend that will change his life, while Virgil and Logan meet old friends that leave them thinking about the future.

______________________________

Chapter 3: A Deer Friend

- years prior - near a small farming village on the edge of the west forest -

Brown curls shifted in the gentle breeze as the boy, not long turned 12, stood poised with his arrow aimed at a target ahead of him. Glass framed by wood assisted trained eyes in watching leaves shift with the wind; waiting for them to still before releasing the arrow.

"Dead centre again. Do you ever miss, Pat?"

Patton lowered his bow and turned to his younger brother, Remy, who was marching up the track in his usual attire; grey shirt with a dark brown jacket pulled over the top. He craned his head to look behind his brother, brow furrowing in confusion.

"Where's our little Quiver?" It was odd to see him without their youngest brother clinging to his back.

"Just Bow and Arrow today-" he extended his arms and looked down with a half-smile - " Sorry I'm not enough. Quiver was still sleeping when I came back from my chores."

Remy accepted the bow that Patton held out for him, discarding his leather satchel on the ground and continuing forward to retrieve the arrow from its hold.

"You are more than enough, Arrow." Hands now free, Patton removed his glasses and pulled his blue shirt from his belt to clean the glass. "Unusual for him to sleep so late though."

"Yeah, well, Mother said he is a little feverish, but there isn't anything to worry about." The arrow required only a slight wiggle to remove from the target and Remy inspected the tip while he walked back to Patton.

"Maybe I should go back and check on him."

"No! Please," Remy begged; racing forward to grab his brothers arm and stop him from leaving. "We hardly ever get to train alone anymore."

Patton looked into his brother’s eyes; begging for their lost time alone. It dawned on him just how little time they had spent together lately as he selfishly allowed their youngest brother to participate in all their training sessions. With the farm requiring so much attention and Patton taking on extra work with a baker, moments for archery practice for the brothers were far and in-between. Sighing, Patton returned his glasses and neatened his shirt before nodding; Remy quickly setting himself up to take aim at the target. Though he still worried for his youngest brother, Patton had to trust Remy's word that nothing was wrong and give his sibling his full attention for at least a few hours.

Their final arrow sailed past the target again and Remy threw the bow down in frustration; fixing the untouched target with a death glare.

"COME ON! Can't I do one thing straight in my life!"

Ruffling his hair, Patton moved forward to search for the discarded arrows. "Don't despair little, Arrow. You'll get there eventually.

Grumbling, Remy followed, and they began sifting through the leaf litter to find arrows and fill Patton's signature quiver. Rustling caught their attention and Remy looked over his shoulder to see Patton standing before a magnificent, grey deer with blue patterning on its face. Their eyes seemed to be locked and neither flinched at Remy's approach; his own eyes wide in fear and awe.

"It's beautiful," Remy whispered; resting a hand on his brothers back and leaning in close.

"A creature of magic," his voice was calm and confident as Patton reached a tentative hand out, encouraging the deer to move closer.

The blue marks on the deer's face shimmered in the sunlight that escaped the forests canopy, confirming Patton's suspicion of magic. While all creatures had soul magic like humans, some were also blessed with natural magic and served as spirit guides or assisted the seasons in changing. Though neither boy could read runes, the deer's colouring was enough for them to assume its connection to winter.

*Art by @fanartfunart Click for link to the post*

Stretching its neck forward, the deer closed its eyes and lent into Patton's hand; fingers shifting in soft fur to scratch the creatures head. Patton could feel the soul magic in his fingers connecting with that of the animal; an icy but reassuring sensation ran up his arm and he felt his body heat and cool simultaneously. Eyes opening, Patton saw a rune glowing blue in the deer's eyes and Remy gasped as Patton's suddenly did the same.

"You're a sorcerer."

Patton looked at his little brother; their words had come out as barely a whisper, choked by fear. Eye's returning to normal, Patton realised he had been holding his breath and gasped; hand still on the deer's cold fur. Fear flooded the young boy’s eyes before he wrapped his arms tightly around Patton’s middle, hands slipping securely beneath the leather quiver on his back. The action snapped Patton's mind out of a trance, and he could finally release the deer to stroke his now sobbing brothers head.

"It's okay, Remy. I'm ok."

"No-o." He kept his face pressed against the faded blue fabric of his brother’s shirt, "They'll get you. You'll be taken away or-or-"

Patton firmly grabbed Remy's shoulders and pushed him back, forcing them both into direct eye contact. His voice was firm but comforting all the same.

"Listen to me now, Remy. I am not going anywhere. Nothing is going to happen to me. I promise."

He waited until his brother nodded, before pulling him back into a hug; glancing to the side to watch the deer as it made its way back into the forest.

Patton had always felt he was different, but never acted on his magic abilities; preferring to remain with his family on the farm. It was safer to avoid magic work, than admit he was something more and risk imprisonment by the King. The confirmation of his gift wasn't going to change anything in Patton's mind. He would always put his family before anything else in the world. Though his heart was in the right place, Patton should never have made that promise to Remy. You can't make a promise about something you can't control, and unfortunately the fates did not work in his favour.

************Present Day************

When Virgil finally opened his eyes, he was both surprised and grateful to reach his right hand out to the sun rune clock and see the sun had been up for at least 5 hours. Adding to the fact that the next guard was on time for once, he had managed to get a full 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Carefully shifting into a sitting position, grunting as his body protested to the movement, Virgil looked around the room. The chambers were designed to house the staff of visitors to the castle; beds with a chest at the foot and lockable cupboards lined the walls. Only the corner where Virgil slept had the addition of a small desk, an open shelf and a larger cupboard for his clothes.

His eyes caught on a savoury muffin sitting on top of his side drawers; a smile pulling at his lips reading the note from Roman. Hope you got some beauty sleep. Father has requested my presence all morning, so can we meet at the spell crafters after noon? Enjoy the muffin curtesy of Val. - Roman

He made short work of his breakfast, before carefully making his way to the communal bathrooms. Stepping into a small cubicle, Virgil removed his clothes and the now useless bandages; runes gone now the magic had run its course. Despite the ache in his chest, it wasn’t surprising for Virgil to find his torso clear of bruising; it was the area he had focused majority of his soul magic throughout the evening and he was rewarded with his abuse hidden. The same could not be said for his arm as it throbbed when stray droplets of water ran down as he washed his hair; bruising ringed the stitched wound, a swirling mix of blue, purple and green. As much as he hated it, he knew he would have to see Haefen again for some ointment or potion to reduce his pain enough for him to train like normal.

Fully clothed, Virgil set off down the halls to reach the kitchens; stomach hardly satisfied with his meagre breakfast. As the kitchens neared, the halls were filled with the lingering scent of the mornings bread and fried meat. Pace quickening, Virgil gasped in shock and pain as he rounded the corner and bumped into what appeared to be a woman with greying hair and a simple purple gown.

“Oh dear, pardon me - Virgil?”

Pain faded to the back of his mind as Virgil realised who stood before him.

“Adara!” Instinctively, he pulled them into an embrace; half thankful that they appeared to sense his injury and favoured his right side. “It’s been nearly 4 years. I’ve missed you.”

Leaning back, Adara reached up to caress Virgil’s cheek. “My little boy has grown into a fine young man.” Their hand trailed down to rest on his chest, eyes saddening at Virgil’s instinctive reaction to flinch. “Is it fair to assume Rupert has not gotten kinder in my absence?”

“It’s fine, Adara." He grabbed their hand and gently lowered it, "You needn’t concern yourself over my wellbeing anymore.”

Despite Virgil’s words fire burned in their eyes. Adara had served in the nursery, assisting the Queen in caring for Roman, and then Virgil when the Queen took him in as well. They shared their chambers with the orphan boy and were just as much of a parental figure as the Queen. Though they were cast out of the castle after confronting the King about Virgil's harsh treatment; making their presence in the city bittersweet.

"I will never stop caring for my boys. Either of you."

"And it's almost cost you your life." Virgil held them out at arm’s length, concern thick in his voice. "How and why are you even here now? You were banished from the city."

"It's fine, sweetie." The anxious look in his eyes told them he was not convinced. "I snuck one of my young wards in for treatment with Haefen. We'll be out of the city in no time. Trust your old Bibi knows what they are doing."

"Last time I trusted you, I had to watch you leave."

Silence fell between them and eye contact was lost in favour of the stone floor. Adara knew they could not argue with the truth; they truly had failed Virgil that day and quite possibly made the boy’s situation worse. It was never her intention, but nothing could change it now. The damage had been done.

"I'm sorry; you are right. I should have been more cautious with my words and actions." Looking up, Adara tried to find Virgil's eyes again; easy thanks to his new height. "I swear I will be careful not to make my presence known to the wrong parties. Okay?”

Nodding, Virgil pulled them close for a final hug. “Stay safe.”

“Same goes for you,” A single tear trailed down their cheek, “take care of yourself.”

“I do my best, but you should go.” Stepping back, they each swiped the tears from their faces. “Your window for leaving undetected will be small.”

“Seek me out one day, won’t you? I would love to see both my boys again.”

“Roman should be granted more freedom outside of the city soon. I’m sure we could make a detoured journey one day.”

“I look forward to it. Until then,” Virgil stepped around them, feeling his legs begin to shake from exhaustion and needing to encourage Adara to leave. “I love you, young one.”

“I love you too, Adara.” Thankful he had managed to have his back to his parental figure, Virgil hurried along to reach the kitchens and find food to stop his body from trembling.

It tore at their heart to head in the opposite direction of Virgil, but Adara knew they had no choice. They had hoped to avoid running into either of their old wards, but the fates had never been kind. Haefen had already warned that King Rupert wasn’t growing kinder with time, but that still hadn’t prepared them. The pain in his eyes. The way his body instinctively tensed before softening. Years of working to gain the boys trust, only to lose him to the abusive King; the equivalent of training a timid rabbit to be brave and then leaving it with a pack of wolves. There was much that Adara regretted in their life but going to the King instead of the Queen was one of their greatest regrets. Things may have been different if that path had been followed.

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

Logan packed away their medical equipment after ensuring it was completely sanitised. The infirmary was much quieter now the knights had left; their laughing and ridiculous jokes about maiming each other made the young physicians blood boil. Working in the infirmary was the worst part of their day and they much preferred to work with their father. Nothing against the other physicians, they were just as skilled as Haefen, but the space didn’t have the same feel as their home. The general infirmary was an open space with rows of beds and trolleys loaded with rune bandages and pre-prepared potions; while their home was compact and allowed them access to personalised runes and supplies for mixing their own potions. It felt better to work in their own environment, but to be considered more than an apprentice they needed to be observed by people other than their mother and father.

“Skilful work this morning, Logan.” A tall woman with cropped blond hair walked over; placing their own equipment into the nearby sink to begin rinsing them off. “Your stitching is immaculate, and I honestly have nothing to fault you on today.”

“Thank you, Tate. It was a rather average morning; hardly an opportunity to develop my skills further.” Packing their satchel, Logan was surprised to find Tate frowning at them.

“Until you have experienced the harshness of the field, do not complain about the mundanity of my infirmary. Do we have an understanding?”

Logan was tempted to comment on the number of broken people they had seen in their home, but they knew it wouldn’t compare to the true nature of field work. Only Haefen’s stories gave them a glimpse into the intensities of working from limited supplies in an unsanitary area.

“My apologies. I didn’t intend for my comments to cause offence.”

“You are still young, Logan-“

“I’m twenty-one.”

“That is young. You are but a toddler in the area of medicine; regardless of how much your parents have taught you. Be thankful for what the fates have given you; for they could take it all away without a moment’s notice. Peace is not to be taken for granted.”

They stifled the urge to roll their eyes, nodding and ducking their head instead. “I understand and I shall be more considerate when I return tomorrow. May I be excused for the day?”

“You may. See you tomorrow, Logan.”

Leaving the infirmary, Logan sighed and hoped that this wasn’t as peaceful as the city would be. If peace meant people could be beaten without consequence, then they didn’t want it. Stepping outside, the sunlight warmed their face as they headed around the castle to reach their house. Taking the outside route was much more pleasant than using the castles inner halls. The linking inner halls were wonderful during harsh winters but came across as suffocating during the seasons that offered clearer skies. A smile easily spread across their face as they spotted Virgil exiting the castle from the opposite side of the courtyard. They eagerly quickened their pace to intercept him, curious to find out how they had responded to yesterday’s treatments.

“Good day to you, Virgil.”

Tired eyes looked up at the sound of their voice. “I appreciate your optimism, Logan. You here to cash in your truth?”

“What? No.” They tried to hide the hurt in their voice at Virgil’s accusation. “I just finished work in the infirmary and saw you. I wasn’t seeking you out or anything.”

Sensing their hurt, Virgil felt guilty for making such a judgement against the man who had freely healed him on multiple occasions. “Sorry, Lo. I’m just tired. I didn’t mean to-“

“How much sleep did you have?”

“What? Um, 8 hours, I guess. Look, I -“ Logan stood in front of Virgil and took hold of his wrist to feel his pulse; staring at his pupils’ reactions. “What are you doing?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Obviously. I’m not a-“

“Have you taken any relievers this morning?”

“Not yet, but it’s fine I-“

“Nope. Let’s go.”

Logan wasn’t having any of Virgil’s stubbornness that morning; practically dragging him around to the back of their chambers. It was jarring for Virgil; he had never seen Logan acting so forcefully; but he guessed it had something to do with the fact that his injuries were more serious than a bruised face or fractured wrist.

Haefen hardly appeared surprised when Logan entered with Virgil in tow.

“Considering the significant lack of blood, am I safe in assuming this is a potion visit?”

“Hey, Haefen.” Virgil took a seat diligently, while Logan started grabbing various jars and vials from the shelf and setting water to boil. “I would answer your question, but I just came along for the ride.”

“Father, can you inspect Virgil's injuries while I craft a reliever for him? I believe he used more magic than we initially predicted.”

Virgil shook his head and rolled his eyes as Haefen grabbed his wrist and stared at him just as Logan had earlier. “I think you are overreacting. I’m just tired and sore. Nothing exactly ground-breaking going on-what is that for?”

The large needle in Logan’s hand had Virgil’s eyes widening, causing Haefen’s face to contort in concern.

“Logan’s correct. Shirt off now, I need to assess some things.”

“You still haven’t explained the needle,” he grumbled; carefully removing his vest and shirt.

“It was to prove a point,” Haefen assured; hardly shocked to see his chest clear and moving to help unwrap his arm. “Though you showed a concerned reaction to the needle, your heart rate remained unnervingly low.”

In the few hours since he had woken, the gash on Virgil’s arm had healed further. The sutures were beginning to breakdown as his body used the natural magic held within them and they were no longer necessary to secure the wound shut. It still astounded both physicians, regardless of how many times they had witnessed his healing ability.

Logan held a mug out to Virgil, “Drink. The temperature should be balanced enough that it won’t burn you.”

Accepting the mug, Virgil did his best to ignore the discomfort of having Haefen’s hand resting on his chest; soul magic searching for injuries and making his chest tingle and burn. Raising the mug to his lips, he was expecting the warm concoction to be bitter and earthy like everything else Logan had mixed before; instead his tastebuds were overwhelmed with a confusing mix of spice and sweetness that had his chest convulsing in coughs.

“Woah,” Haefen took the mug from Virgil’s hand before any of the liquid could spill. “Take it easy.”

Logan sniggered before quickly jabbing Virgil’s arm with a small needle.

“Wha-da-f-k?” He finally managed to gasp out, frustrated by the grins that were now on both physicians faces.

“I know you don’t like needles, so I thought a distraction was necessary. Was it effective?”

“No!” Leaning back heavily against the chair, Virgil felt like his chest had been pierced by one of his flaming arrows. “I feel worse now than before you dragged me here.”

Haefen pulled out a familiar vial of blue, which Virgil accepted gratefully. “I am satisfied this process will restore your natural heart rhythm. Though I would advise you against any crafting or magic practice today. Logan’s assessment was correct, your soul magic is what caused your unusual rhythm. To be frank, most people I have come across with that little magic are unconscious.”

“Shall we add that to the list of reasons why I’m not normal?” Virgil was glad to feel the burning subside as the normal potion seemed to work its way through his system. “By the way, was there any benefit to that first potion or were you just messing with me?”

Logan’s face was serious as they wrapped a fresh bandage around his arm.

“Everything I do has a benefit, Virgil. Not only did that brew act as a distraction, it also encouraged the production of soul magic and included a herb combination that will either improve your energy levels or…” Both Virgil and Haefen raised their eyebrows expectantly as Logan secured the bandage in place and stood to wash their hands. “You could…potentially… respond to it like a mild sedative.”

“What do you mean potentially?” Virgil stood and followed Logan to the sink, ignoring the way his body swayed slightly as he stood beside them. “How can herbs have two vastly different effects?”

“The body is a very complex system and we have already established that you don’t respond to situations as we would expect.”

“I can’t be sedated. I’m meeting Roman at-t noo-“

All sense of space left Virgil as his mouth failed to cooperate and his eye lids grew heavy; swaying dangerously as his body numbed. Sighing, Logan pulled his arm over their shoulder and led him to a bed; carefully guiding him to lay down.

“I shall make a note that Virgil is among the 3% who react to the Dye-Smith combination negatively.” Logan turned to look at their father, a hint of fear in their eyes. “How angry do you think he will be when he wakes up?”

A comforting hand rested on their shoulder. “I would suggest you go out collecting after completing your chores.”

“I concur.”

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

Roman was glad to finally be pardoned from the meeting room as the sun reached its midpoint; mind already forgetting half of what had just been discussed about relations with Pixma and Xican. The only thing he took away from the morning was that he was finally granted permission outside the city unaccompanied; meaning he and Virgil could ride without having a group of knights trailing behind them. Others took note of the obvious spring in the Prince’s step as he headed towards the spell crafting area; quickly moving out of his path and smiling supportively.

The crafting area was a visual wonder, a stone wall built around a large tree with a low, umbrella canopy forming a roof. Crafting runes required natural magic, pulled from the earth and fused with materials using soul magic. While natural magic was present in all places, it was easier to access at a focused location known as a source point; the crafting tree being one such point in the city.

Roman barely acknowledged the waiting patrons as he strolled passed, only registering that none of them were Virgil before continuing to head straight into the space. Faces dropped after Roman passed them, knowing they would have to wait even longer for their needs to be met with the Prince’s presence.

Squeezing his eyes shut as he was allowed through the main door, Roman blindly stepped through a black curtain before slowly reopening his eyes and allowing them to adjust to the new light. The crafting area of the inner wall was the largest source point in the area, with plentiful space for multiple crafters to be set up with their individual crafting crystals around the tree and small pond. Bioluminescent fungus and moss filled the area with a soft rainbow hue, while fireflies and glowing moths danced through the air and distracted his sight as he searched for Virgil.

A short, old man carefully stepped past the Prince as he finished with one of the furthest crafters; a round faced woman with wavy, brown hair that rested on the ground where she sat. Heart sinking slightly as he realised Virgil wasn’t there, Roman advanced to sit in the newly vacant position.

“Pleasure to see you, Vivian.” He beamed, trying to hide his true sadness.

“Honour to be of service, my Prince.” Vivian lowered a reed pen into the water; tiny glowing fish swarmed the pen to clean it of ink and magic. “I’m assuming we are touching up your current runes?”

Though he nodded, in truth, Roman had hoped to craft teleportation runes in anticipation for his first unsupervised missions. Unfortunately, he relied heavily on Virgil’s assistance when it came to runes and without him, he couldn’t possibly visualise the rune he needed; and he wasn’t about to admit his inabilities to Vivian. Thankfully, repowering current runes meant he had the rune already available and visualisation was simple.

Retrieving his belt, sash and wrist guards from his satchel, Vivian dried her hands and pen before dusting off the crystal slab and inspecting the runes they would be making.

“Seems you have gotten good ware from these runes, your highness. It shows exceptional control on your behalf.”

“Thank you, Vivian.” Roman glanced around the space again, the beauty having no calming effect as he wondered where Virgil was.

“Is there a problem, Prince Roman?” Worry caused Vivian’s brow to crease as one of the guards eyed their area at the sight of the Prince’s discomfort.

“My apologies, I was expecting to meet Virgil and I guess I’m a little distracted by his absence.”

“Oh,” relief filled Vivian’s chest as she realised Roman’s issue had nothing to do with her. “I’m sure he isn’t too far away. These runes should take no time at all to strengthen and you can be on your way. Let’s start with the collection on your belt.”

Trusting their word, Roman adjusted his sitting position and placed one hand on the crystal while the other hovered above the reed pen in Vivian’s hand. The crystal began to glow a soft green as Vivian pulled natural magic up from the earth; eyes closed, and mind focused on the purpose of the runes she had to write. Simultaneously, Roman pushed his soul magic forward, warming his hand as he channelled it into the reed pen in a soft yellow stream. Moving his magic was easy but focusing on the rune shapes was a challenge for the Prince; the pen in Vivian’s hand moving slowly as their magic and visions combined to form each rune. After the golden letters were formed, Vivian placed the belt on the crystal and the golden runes shifted, slotting into place on the belt with a flash before dulling to black.

Roman let out a quiet sigh, glad to see that the runes matched perfectly and hadn’t failed.

“Shall we move onto your sash?” Vivian questioned, noticing the slight shift in the prince’s demeanour.

Nodding, Roman prepared for the next set of runes; hoping Virgil would arrive before the session was over.

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

Screams filled the darkness and Virgil felt nothing but fear. He had no idea who the screams belonged to, where they were coming from or why they made him feel so sad and alone. No matter how many times he dreamt about them, he couldn't remember anything about them. The darkness shifted and a knew memory filled his mind.

Useless outsider!

Strong hands pushed the teenage Virgil to the ground.

Don’t you dare cry in my presence!

A callused hand scraped across a slightly older face with such force that his body crumbled to the ground.

Remember your place!

Staring in a mirror with blood running from his nose, Virgil squeezed his watering eyes shut to escape the image only to open them and see King Rupert’s boots in front of his kneeling form.

If you can’t do your job properly…

A leather boot met his face and his body was instantly knocked backwards. When his eyes opened a stone weight was held over his chest.

… don’t bother living.

Reliving the pain of having the weight dropped on his chest was unbearable and Virgil found himself crying out as he jolted back into consciousness. Heart pounding in his ears and whole-body trembling, it took him a moment to realise the pain was only a phantom memory and the discomfort in his chest was from his rapid breathing.

“Are you okay, kiddo?”

Haefen was quite shaken from his patient’s sudden outburst, but the only answer he received was a mumbled “Roman” as Virgil was on his feet and heading out the door. By the time he poked his own head out the back door, the young man was already running towards the crafting area.

Nightmarish memories were nothing new for Virgil; the main reason he worked himself into exhaustion was to avoid having them at all.

The only reason I haven't locked you up is because you serve a purpose to my son. If you can’t do your job, don’t bother living.

King Rupert’s words seemed to reverberate in his mind, only quieting as the crafting area came into view. The guards at the door caught sight of Virgil's rapidly approaching form and shared a knowing grin; preparing themselves for him to ask permission to enter and they could have some fun tormenting him. Their games didn't come to fruition as they were left stunned when he didn't even acknowledge their presence; pushing straight past them to enter the crafting area. A few waiting patrons turned away to hide their grins as the guards looked behind them as the doors swung closed; questioning each other on whether they should actually follow him or not.

Roman sighed in relief when he saw Virgil approaching just as Vivian finished packing up his satchel. Concern quickly took its place as he registered the vacant look in his friends tear rimmed eyes; breathing more laboured than it should have been, even if he had just run from his chambers.

"Virgil? What's wrong?" Roman was on his feet; ignoring the stares around him as he grabbed onto Virgil's shoulders to try and steady him.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Virgil shook his head and tried to compose himself as he suddenly became aware of the watching eyes. "no-nothing...jus-. Late...sorry."

He tried to continue forward towards Vivian, but Roman's grip didn't loosen and even without eye contact, Virgil knew the Prince's eyes were assessing him with concern.

"We're leaving."

"Wha- no."

Tears threatened to spill from Virgil's tired eyes as Roman let go to grab his satchel from Vivian's outstretched hand; his skin felt ice cold without the touch and his hands started to shake. Fists clenching in frustration, Virgil was about to argue when Roman grabbed hold of his right hand and started to pull him out of the crafting area.

When the Prince gives you an instruction, you follow it! Do I make myself perfectly clear?

Virgil hated the fact that Rupert's voice entered his mind again in that moment. He was torn between allowing Roman to lead him away or forcing him to stay and continue crafting. Logically they should have stayed and crafted, but his heart screamed for solitude with Roman. Technically it was Roman's wish to leave; he only hoped all onlookers would see it that way as well, and not that Virgil had distracted the Prince from his duties. Feet moving diligently, the pair were soon moving quickly through the inner city and towards the Queen's gardens.

Filthy outsider. You are nothing but a useless farm boy the Queen took pity on. Nothing more.

Roman may have been ignorant of many things, but he had seen that vacant look in Virgil's eyes too many times to ignore it. As they reached the back of his mother’s garden that disguised the inner wall, Roman carefully parted a manicured bush and encouraged Virgil to continue past him to the secluded hideaway they had made as children. The bushes came back together seamlessly and Roman had hold of his friends trembling hand again as they walked around the back of a massive old oak stump; hollowed and coated in moss and vines.

Safe from prying eyes, Virgil allowed himself to relax; body shaking with sobs as he finally allowed his held tears to fall and Roman pulled him close. Fists pushed briefly at Roman’s chest, before Virgil accepted the hold; head resting on his shoulder as he let his hidden emotions rise back to the surface.

"I've got you, Virge," Roman whispered, slowly guiding them down to sit on his lap in the hollowed oak. "You're safe with me."

Virgil knew Roman believed his words. He truly thought that he was safe with him. In the past, those words were a form of comfort from Adara, Queen Alexandra and Roman. Back then, his nightmares were only from the lost memories of his past and the battle he had been saved from. It had become almost routine for Roman to sneak into Virgil's bed to comfort him when he woke gasping and sobbing uncontrollably when their carers weren't nearby. Even after he left the nursery to live with Adara and then on his own, Virgil never spent long alone following a nightmare. Roman almost had a sixth sense for when his friend needed him, and many evenings he would wake to find the Prince appearing in the doorway and ready to comfort him. Virgil craved that comfort and feeling of safety when his lost memories hit; but when King Rupert was involved, he only felt more guilty sitting in Roman's arms. Lying to his friend was harder in these moments of weakness. He wanted to be honest with him but the light in Roman was too precious to lose, so he remained clinging to the white fabric of his friend’s clothes; mind in a state of emotional turmoil.

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

The forest outside of the city was bursting with colour and a sense of life as Logan left the common trails in search of herbs. Their usual slim glasses replaced with large squares of glass with wooden frames; black cloak shielding them from the light shower that had blessed the area with a fresh earthy scent. Eyes scanned the ground and tree trunks for any signs of useful plants or blooms that could be collected and tested.

Screwing the lid on a sample jar, Logan inspected the cuttings they had placed inside; curious about the blue colouring that had appeared on a normally white flower. The shifting of undergrowth caught their attention and they turned to spot a grey deer with blue runes marking its face.

"Hello, Spirit, my old friend," Logan smiled; slipping the jar into the satchel and calmly approaching the deer.

The creature showed no fear as they approach, stepping closer to meet the human halfway; lowering its head to allow Logan to begin scratching behind its ears the moment they were close enough.

"I feared your safety after such a long absence," blue animal eyes blinked at Logan; head tilting slightly in apology. "I am glad to see you appear safe. May I inspect your health?"

Bowing its head in agreeance, Spirit allowed them to walk around and inspect their body; pausing at a small cut on their hind leg.

"It appears you have been in a bit of a scrape." They wasted no time in retrieving a premade ointment and rune cloth from their satchel. "Won't be a moment."

Healing animals wasn't a conventional use of healing magic, but Logan enjoyed working with the deer. They had met Spirit years prior when they found them with an arrow stuck in their shoulder; spending hours with them before finally being able to heal the wound. Ever since, Logan had come across the animal regularly when they were out collecting for their father. The runes on Spirit's face a clear sign of their status as a spirit animal and translated to ice or snow. Logan was fascinated and excited by the relationship they had formed over the years; they couldn't understand why such an honourable creature would be interested in them, but savoured it nonetheless.

"There you go, Spirit," Logan stood and admired the healed leg, "Not even a mark." Spirit turned and nuzzled Logan's chest, almost knocking them over with the force of their affection.

"Take it easy," a laugh effortlessly escaped them as they wrapped their arms around the creature’s neck and snuggled the soft fur with their cheek. "It is my pleasure to serve you."

Stepping away, Spirit looked around before bounding over to a patch of green ground cover; eyes glowing with blue, natural runes as they bowed their head to touch the patch with the tip of their nose. A grin spread across Logan's face as they watched frost coat the plant and golden buds grew and bloomed before their eyes.

"Frost lilies!"

As Spirit stepped back, Logan knelt and quickly collected the flowers in a sample jar. After the jar lid was secured, Spirit lent forward again and froze the jar with a tap of their nose.

"These will be most valuable for my father and I," Logan scratched the deer behind its ear as they stood. "Thank you very much for this gift. These will be invaluable in crafting my new treatment for internal injuries and muscular bruising."

They had been working on new remedies for a while, and with King Rupert's increased aggression they feared they would be testing it sooner rather than later.

Logan looked sadly at the deer as they spoke, "Virgil may be in need of more support than magic alone. I worry about him, Spirit." The deer moved closer; eyes just as sad as Logan's. "I fear I may not find him in time one day."

Wind rushed through the area and Logan shielded their eyes as leaves and dust blew past their face. When their eyes opened, they were shocked to see tears slip from the deer's eyes; slightly frosted and shimmering like small jewels.

"Spirit?" Logan gently swiped the tears from the creature’s eyes; heart aching at the pure sadness they saw within them. "Your empathy will never cease to amaze me, my friend. You do not know Virgil and yet you cry for him. Perhaps you could meet him one day. I'm sure Virgil would appreciate you as much as I do."

Another tear slipped from the deer's eye and Logan quickly brushed it away before Spirit started backing away from their touch.

"I assume it is time for you to be on your way. I hope to see you with happier news soon."

Spirit bowed their head once more before sprinting back into the depths of the forest, leaving Logan alone once more. The satchel was cold against their leg as the frozen sample jar chilled the leather, making them aware of the passing of time as they continued to watch the horizon where Spirit had vanished. They always felt lost after the spirit animal left; like a piece of them was taken by the creature every time. It wasn't until the howl of wolves echoed through the trees that they found their feet again and started to make their way back towards the main track for the city.

______________________________

Next Chapter

End Note

Also, I really hope you liked the art and please don’t forget to check out @fanartfunart and give them some love for the lovely art of Patton and Remy. They do amazing artwork and stories of their own. Well worth taking a scroll down through their Tumblr page 😊

I really can’t give a timeline on when the next chapter will be done. I need to get some less angsty ideas to fill in a bit of a gap I have in the story and I don’t really have anyone to bounce ideas off sooooo gotta wait for inspiration to hit me in the face.

Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you have a lovely time zone 💜🐌

New characters appeared!

Patton ‘Bow’ Finn: he|him pronouns; eldest son of Mia and Larsen Finn; father disappeared after youngest brother was born; took on the father figure role for his brothers; works on the family farm and helps a local baker for extra gold; skilled archer and basic healer (using only herbs and not magic); always carries his archery gear around ‘just in case’; decorated his quiver with a crest to represent his brothers.

Remy ‘Arrow’ Finn: he|him pronouns; middle child (three year gap between both his siblings); is short for his age; makes braided bracelets and sells them at the market; helps Patton as much as he is able; hasn’t been able to master archery at all; keeps a length of fabric tied around his middle and uses it to cover his eyes for ideal daytime napping in the forest; is jealous of how much attention Patton gives Quiver now he is older.

______________________________

What else has Snail done?

The Perfect Ring (oneshot -analogical proposal)

You Promised (oneshot - prinxiety angst/injury/near death)

Sides of a Hero (Completed Fic - sides are fusions of impulses and aspects of Thomas. Virgil has a depressing past that he is forced to face thanks to Deceit and Rage. Was canon compliant at the time of completion)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles . Always happy to interact and chat on that blog too 💜🐌

27 notes · View notes

magicianmew · 7 years ago

Text

Low magic, gender, ceremagi, a big clusterfuck pie...

So this is something that has been gnawing away at me for damn near the entirety of the time I've been firmly planted in my practice, but especially since the whole this-is-douchecanoe thing went down (they're not worth my tag).

A few days ago I reblogged this post, which talks about how this-isn't-sparta is clearly coming from an occultist background, and seems to be embodying all of the sexist, ableist, elitist, and dogmatic crap that we've come to know and love from a particular and unfortunately vocal segment of that community.

But then this happened.

These practices within themselves are very male-centric. They seem more left brain than right. More confrontational than accepting.

Wait, what?

Now, I am not trying to call anyone out at all here. I ain't mad. I just wanna unpack this a little bit and actually look at it. 'K? I’m only using this because it's a convenient and ready-to-hand example, but the mindset is absolutely everywhere in the magical world.

Why do we as a community view low magic as being an inherently a "feminine" and "illogical" branch of magic? Why do we view it as something that is yielding and disorganized and void of the sort of study that can go into ceremonial magic? Even the people who practice it seem to accept this stereotype, even as they're surrounded by books and attempting some extremely punishing hedge work for the 34928057498th time.

I actually don't know. Because none of that is remotely true, in my experience of practicing primarily low magic.

Also note: I continue to refer to it as "low" for the same reason I continue to self-identify as "witch." In both cases, it's a practice usually associated with the underclass, which is an important part of the history of these practices. And I don't want to erase that. It keeps me humble. Anyway...

Let's talk about low magic. Folk magic. Po' people magic. Community magic.

Obviously there are thousands of different varieties of low magic -- several just for every culture in any given era. But they share a few broad things in common.

Firstly, they have an absolutely vast knowledge base. In order to effectively work most historical or true traditional forms of low magic, you need to have a working knowledge of botany, geology, history, cooking, distillation, the food web, migrational patterns, astronomy...

Learning how to perform the full body of work of most low magical traditions literally requires a full interdisciplinary education, fam. They involve a shit-ton of left-brain thinking, knowledge acquisition, and logical work. I have learned more about science from my practice than I did from my formal education, ok?

Even if you try to whatabout modern, novel forms of low magic, it still stays true. A tech witch, for example, might require a damn near photographic knowledge of the grid of their city and a couple of different coding languages, in addition to several of the disciplines above.

Let's keep something in mind, here. Low craft is the mother of modern medicine. The magician and the healer were the same person throughout most of history, and if you look back on what few ancient low magic books exist, you will find medicinal concepts that we still use to this day.

Low craft is, and has always been, a deeply research- and knowledge-based way of working. It couldn't possibly have given birth to something as expansive and world-changing as medicine if it weren't.

What is different about low magic compared to ceremonial, and I think where this concept of it being "less disciplined" comes from, is that low magic is performatively flexible. Because it is a craft developed and used by people with unpredictable access to materials, time, or places, it is meant to be adapted to a non-ideal situation pretty much on the fly. That is exactly why it has such a vast body of knowledge behind it: because the more you know, the more ready you are to do the work you need no matter what situation you might find yourself in.

Ceremonial magic is, well, what it says on the box: ceremonial. And because the experience of watching a ceremonial working seems much more procedural than watching a low magic working, people have somehow concluded the low magic involves less knowledge. That is not remotely true. The knowledge just comes in at a different point in the process, i.e. how they even got to the point of doing a working at all, when they had nothing but a spoon, two pennies, and a waxing moon at their disposal.

Hell, low magicians even adapt ceremonial magic. Hoodoo workers know all about the Seals of Solomon, and they make them work beautifully even without the usual prescribed ceremony.

Now let's talk a little bit about these... gender ideas. This is a whole complicated ball of icky, slippery worms.

There's two concepts going on here:

That ceremonial magic is "male."

That "male-ness" is confrontational and intolerant.

Ok. *rubs temples*

It is undeniable that ceremonial magic is dominated by men, and it always has been.

But that does not mean that low magic is "a woman's practice." That is not even remotely true, and it never has been.

Low magic has historically been communal. In many places, it still is even now. Practitioners have always been both male and female. Sometimes they held different titles, sometimes they didn't. Usually, deference was simply determined by age and length of time practicing, not gender or anything else.

As a matter of fact, magical practice was one of the few places where we continued to see relative gender equality even after patriarchy began to take over many societies in the world. Magic continued to be a practice of merit and communal assistance, not something where your gender decided your competence or your station in the magical community.

From Britain's cunning folk to black root doctors, both African and diasporic, both men and women have always been magic workers in low practice, and there is little to no evidence of them disrespecting each other, or assuming one's magic is inferior to the other's because of their gender alone. There is no black man who ever wanted to cross a root working woman, I guarantee you!

Ok. So now let's tackle this "male-ness is confrontational and intolerant" thing.

No. Toxic masculinity is confrontational and intolerant.

So then why do we see that particular problem more often in ceremonial magic, which has always been a male-dominated practice?

Because ceremonial magic is not just male-dominated. More specifically, it is dominated by white, Western, higher-class men, who are also usually straight and virtually always cisgender. Let's just get that right, here.

This isn't a problem with "male-ness." It is a problem with the people at the very top of the kyriarchal totem pole, and it's the same problem we always see with this group of people, whether we're talking about Congress or gentrification. It's no different.

Ceremonial magic has historically been the property of powerful, wealthy men who were part of the ruling class. From popes to aristocrats, the development of ceremonial magic has grown directly from that power system.

"Male-ness" does not dictate one's personality. "Male-ness" does not inherently make one intolerant of other people. Unexamined, unchecked privilege is what does that. "Male-ness" means nothing other than the state of occupying a male-identified gender and/or body.

The strong and persistent community of men that has always been present in low magic alongside their female counterparts is no less male. And we shouldn't degrade the potential and decency of men who work at these things by assigning them a personality without even examining it for truth first.

We also really need to stop defining everything feminine as yielding, weak, or illogical -- the implicit opposite of the strong, dominating, and procedural "male" practice. It doesn't lift up women to define their work and their encyclopedic knowledge as being somehow lesser or weaker like that.

I know that, most of the time, people don't mean it like this because it's just beaten into our heads to think of female-ness this way, to the point where all of us will, at some point, just parrot it back without even thinking about it (me included), but it's a back-handed defense at best. We need to acknowledge the power, knowledge, and work of the magic women do. We need to get better at examining those assumptions within ourselves that their work isn't as good.

Just as a general concept, we need to stop trying to shoe-horn the gender binary and its tired stereotypes into the way we see ourselves as magic workers, and the way we see our magic. That’s as true in low magic as in ceremonial.

And finally...

I can pretty much hear all the ceremonial magicians who are mad as fuck at me right now and ready to bang away at their keyboards about how they're female or disabled or queer or whatever.

Ok, stop for a second.

I know.

'K?

I know that. I know there are lots of you coming from less privileged backgrounds, struggling for the spoons to do your work, etc.

And I really hope you're going to use that to take back ceremonial magic from that ugly history, and turn it into something that's for everyone and works equally for the magical empowerment of all people.

You can totally do that, now that we have this here thing called the internet. And I follow several people who partake in problematic practices with the specific intent of re-envisioning them as something better. Great. Wonderful. Please do that.

But in order to do that, you have to recognize the roots of where it came from. You can't tackle these problems by pretending they don't exist, just like you can't be an ally to black people without acknowledging the problems of whiteness.

It's not personal. It's a fact of both the historical and present-day climate of that community.

We need to acknowledge that people like this-are-donut are pretty common in that community. And in order to make it a better space for you, it's to your benefit to fight back against that degradation of other people just as much as we do in the low magic community. I mean, let's be real, those people don't respect you any more than they respect me. What do you gain out of defending them? Nothing. If you won't do it for any other reason, do it for you.

To those of you already cleaning house, thank you.

To those of you who are gonna say my community has problems too, yes, I know. Name me one time ever that I've denied that or not come out against it whenever I see it, from racist crafters to Nazis in paganism. So please just... don't. Today we're talking about ceremagi's laundry. I talk about mine plenty, ok?

So anyway.

TL;DR If you're a low magician of any sort, your knowledge is just as deep and hard-won as that of any ceremonial magician. Stop accepting the premise at face value that it is somehow a lesser practice.

We also need to stop associating low magic as being "for women." Low magic has a rich history of gender inclusion, and in some societies even LGBT inclusion. Men have shown themselves perfectly capable of working peaceably with us. There is no reason they can't in ceremonial magic just as they have in low magic.

In the spirit of the holiday, let's try to keep this productive. I've really tried my best, here.

Happy Ostara for my pagans buds, and Happy Easter for my Christian witches. Have a good'un.

#whoops i made a discourse #germ sticks her foot in it again #witchblur #witchcraft #magical community

172 notes · View notes

howlonghaveibeenup · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 5,357 times in 2021

22 posts created (0%)

5335 posts reblogged (100%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 242.5 posts.

I added 94 tags in 2021

#when did this become a fashion blog - 67 posts

#yes - 6 posts

#oh hell yeah - 4 posts

#holy shit - 4 posts

#music - 3 posts

#jesus - 2 posts

#discworld - 2 posts

#gnu terry pratchett - 2 posts

#🤝 - 2 posts

#yayyyyyy - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#damn stuff like this makes me want to learn to draw architecture. its amazing how much personality you put into this space it looks exactly

My Top Posts in 2021

Ok fine ill listen to working for the knife youve got me curious now

2 notes • Posted 2021-10-08 11:23:57 GMT

Thaumaturgy theivery thembo

2 notes • Posted 2021-06-09 02:44:59 GMT

Todd Chavez had the right idea. There should be an ace dating app. One of the things that fucks me up is the expectation of sex that goes with dating. Idk if im ace or not but at this point in my life i dont really want sex. And it makes me wary of dating apps bc of the hookup culture that surrounds most of them. I feel like if I were to use an app like that i would have to re-explain to each person that its not on the table. I suppose i could put it into my bio, but it would be nice to just operate on the assumption that it’s not gonna happen. Like I just want to go eat ice cream with you and then maybe cuddle? Why does it have to be sexual? So yeah. Ace dating app.

9 notes • Posted 2021-10-26 12:00:38 GMT

That post about terry pratchett (about women and their appearance) that got heaps of notes.. I was just wondering which book that is by him? i’d absolutely love to read it. thank you!

The post anon is talking about here

Ah! It is several books by him, my friend! I will list them here:

Dragon Keeper and Aristocrat Lady Sybil first appears in Guards Guards! which is the first book in the Night Watch series. She makes an appearance in just about every Night Watch book I've read so far.

The witches of Lancre (Nanny Ogg, Granny Weatherwax and Magrat Garlick) first appear in Wyrd Sisters. There are more books about the witches but I have not read them and I dont know all of them.

The female troll that @brunhiddensmusings mentions in their addition I think is from Monstrous Regiment (also this book plays with gender and gender politics and it is VERY fun, but please correct me if this is not in fact the book the female troll is from)

So the three books that we are touching on most here are

Guards Guards!

Wyrd Sisters

Monstrous Regiment

Happy reading!

38 notes • Posted 2021-09-06 02:59:01 GMT

you know what i love about terry pratchett and his books. is that the girls are allowed to be ugly. Mr Terry says this woman looked like the wrong end of a dragon and has no teeth and she saved the day and her husband dotes on her. Like....in almost all fantasy novels i read beauty is almost always equated with goodness, and its just...so refreshing to see ugly girls in starring roles. His books really say you dont have to have beauty to have value. and like!! not just in looks either. so many of these ladies have shit personalities. i guess what im saying is he writes women like people, flawed, ordinary and extraordinary all at once.

15067 notes • Posted 2021-08-06 04:58:15 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #jesus #i know im on tumblr a lot but 5000 reblogged posts??? thats so many

0 notes

thefloatingstone · 7 years ago

Note

What's wrong with tumblr's safe mode? I mean it's wrong a lot but it does pin down most nsfw?

Ugh. I'm on my phone so I can't type out a big long proper explanation. If anyone wants to reblog this and add a better explanation for anon please do so ok?But basically, safe mode existing is not the problem (except that tumblr already has tag filtering so why do you need safemode that much if not to filter out untagged stuff which, as you say, tumblr often gets wrong)The problem is tumblr putting it on as an automatic choice. That tumblr forces it onto people despite it being essentially broken. Ignoring that some people are on tumblr FOR sensitive material in terms of fanfics and fanart, who is tumblr to decide what counts as 'sensitive' anyway? Are posts about trans health 'sensitive content' because of what it discusses for instance? Not to mention tumblr, before I turned it off, was actually refusing to let me go to NY MUTUALS blogs because 'safemode is on'. In all honesty, tumblr has no interest in using safemode to protect its users. It's all in self interest for tumblr. It's a way to use a broken automation system to avoid hiring real people to clean up tumblr's porn blog problem. Its to avoid hands on human employees looking at things with human eyes and deciding if it is inappropriate or not. To save money. More than this, it's a way for tumblr to control what we see on our own dash. Don't forget tumblr really wants that 'best stuff first' feature it had to be used. So it can show us the most popular posts and bury stuff by artists and creators (and let's not forget who would have top posts. Companies that tumblr can get revenue from.)In a similar way, safe mode was little do to with actually offering the service of keeping people safe, and is more about forcing its control ob the co tent it wants as us to see as the Yahoo Company dictates in what can maximise their profit, squash out undesirable content it does not want to associate itself with as this dissuades backers and investors in giving them money, and basically turn tumblr into Facebook 2.0As with literally everything, a major company will look at a good idea, and try to find a way to twist it into something they can profit from. In this case, it's removing control from its users without giving them the option while not spending more money on a human discerning employee who could do the job so that they can sweep the bad content under the rug so that investors will safer putting ads for Coca Cola on the site and not have to risk it showing up on the same page as a drawing of Bayonetta pegging Sonic the Hedgehog. Because Coke wouldn't like that and pull their funding which means Yahoo/tumblr makes less money. Anyway... I'm sure that all sounds insane and I could've worded that a thousand times better, but if anyone seeing this has a better way of explaining this or corrections on the matter please feel free to reblog this with an addition. (Just holy shit stay out of my inbox and IM telling me 'you're wrong' because I am so sick of that shit. Pull up your pants and reblog if you have a correction on a mistake I made)

23 notes · View notes

rileywrites-parker · 7 years ago

Text

Inspiring Confidence (Part II)

Peter Parker x Reader

This hilarity was originally posted by @tomhstories so go like/reblog this from them, please.

I’m just going to add this little addition from @tbholland right here to help you guys visualize....

So I wrote something for this, because as soon as I saw these all I could think of was Peter, and how he would totally do something like this, but immediately regret it and panic.

I suggest you read Part I first, this will be much funnier if you do.

Summary: ‘“Did you – did you actually just send me nudes?” Looking at yourself in the mirror as you spoke, at the white of your teeth as lips stretched tight across them and eyes crinkled as you smiled…’

Words: 1.2k Warnings: Awkward adorable Peter thinking he has text game, but is really just a dork. Mentions of nudity/intimacy.

(I really cannot believe that I wrote this. I’m so sorry.)

A contented sigh pushed past moistened lips as hot water pounded away at tense shoulders, muscle fibers tangled with all of the hours spent finishing up that paper you’d ended up putting off until late the next evening; laptop and scholarly words pushed aside for toffee curls, fluttering eyelashes, and words that were much more recreational.

There had been more giggling and clanging teeth than there normally was; lips too busy stretched across each other in smiles to even bother avoiding clumsiness.

A rosy blush had stained his face, his sculpted cheeks and sandy freckles a soft, flowery purple in the hazy blue lighting for most of the night. Petal pink color following the two of you back to your room as you’d quickly forgotten about black, white, blue, and jazz and moved on to mixing your colors and making music of your own kind.

He’d left in the early hours of the morning, a colored shadow escaping out of the window and into the purpling sky. You hadn’t heard from him since; it wasn’t often that Spider-Man truly got a night off.

Through the harsh pattering sound of droplets hitting the plastic of the shower curtain, you heard the tell-tale ping of your phone, accompanying vibration rattling against the marbled surface of the sink. The fact that it was 3 A.M. on a Sunday leaving you with no doubt: it was Peter.

But then it was almost always Peter.

Rinsing the last of the conditioner from your hair, humid air full of flowers and rain, you cut the water off and grabbed for your towel just in time for Peter’s ringtone to echo off the tiles in the steamed bathroom; drying off pruned hands and wrapping fluffed fabric around yourself before grabbing at the phone that was bouncing across the slicked surface of the counter; a lazy smile on your face.

“Peter, Isn’t it a little lat-” in a repeat of the night before, his nervous voice was cutting you off, vibrating, not unlike the way your phone had been seconds earlier.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you would mind and that was a terrible idea,” chuckles uneasy, deep and bubbling past lips, “and, um, I - I’m not really sure exactly what I was thinking or – actually, again, I do, that’s a lie – ohmygod, um – I was impatient and now I just feel like it was gross, and - ”

“Peter?” You interrupted, deciding on words rather than the laughter that was begging to release as you connected the dots.

“Hmm?” Squeak of a sound from a tight, nervous throat.

“Did you – did you actually just send me nudes?”

Looking at yourself in the mirror as you spoke, at the white of your teeth as lips stretched tight across them and eyes shimmered as a choked laugh found its way to your ear from where ever Peter was. He was undoubtedly pink from head to toe, freckles on his face and shoulders shining like the stars as the colors surrounding them crescendo and make them light up in the way you so admire.

“No, HA, yes, I mean – that uh, that depends. Did your phone go off before I called you? Please tell me it didn’t. Please? Because if it didn’t - ”

“No such luck, Parker,” suspicions confirmed, there was no waiting. You were back to doing as you had the night before, checking the embarrassing messages your flustered boyfriend had sent you from the other end of the line.

You could hear his heavy breathing, could practically feel his heart beating furiously as he sat and listened for a reaction; you could imagine funny brows pinched together in the middle, white teeth peeking out as he bit at the corner of a pink, chapped lip, sweaty hand grabbing at the back of a blushing neck.

“I’m sorry. You caught that, right?”

But you weren’t really listening.

He was all long lines, harsh angles, glowing, golden skin and freckles that seemed to go on for miles and miles. It looked like he had been in the shower, too, dark shiny curls just visible, angle suggesting the dork might have actually really thought it through, like he’d spent time on getting it just right. He knew what your favorite parts of him were; you hadn’t told him with words so much as shown him.

When your eyes caught on that part of him your stomach flopped.

Oh.

It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t already seen, but that didn’t stop your heart and lungs from keeping time with his as you lingered and forgot that the man you were eyeing up on your screen was actually still listening and gauging your reaction.

Just as you couldn’t stop your body from responding in the way that it often, always, did as far as Peter was concerned, you couldn’t stop the crooked grin and the quirk of a still damp brow as you decided.

“Pe-nis Parker, my my,” and you heard his intake of breath, heard the rushed ‘ohmygod,’ “if only you’d thought to send - ”

“HA, no, nope, uh-uh, not going there,” voice closer to the honey you were used to, smile pulling at his lips obvious.

“Mhmm, well, thanks for the material, hot stuff, see you to - ”

“Hey, no no, wait a second.”

“Yes, Pete?” You were using your sweetest voice, knowing what he was wanting, but not willing to pull the bumbling, blushing mess out from the waters of embarrassment. Not quite yet.

“I – you – um,” and you could see him again, redness back on his cheeks and fingers in those curls as he stumbled over the question that had latched itself onto his tongue.

“Did you want something?” He clicked his tongue at your words and you could feel him rolling his eyes at your tone, lip pulling up at the corner as he recognized your teasing.

“Well, yeah, if – but only if you wanted, only if that’s –“

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Peter” and you hung up, heart fluttering in your ears as you laughed a little at yourself, at the ridiculousness of your sometimes awkwardly endearing boyfriend, who wasn’t always aware of himself, what he was, what he could ask of you, what you would do for him; even this.

But in this moment, he was Peter, who just so happened to look really good in whatever lighting he had managed for the photo you found yourself looking at again.

A smirk found your lips once more and you dropped your towel, soft fabric pooling around your toes, “OK, Parker.”

The next morning when you met him and Ned for breakfast, there was a little pep to your step at the thought of what you had likely just done to the man sitting at the quaint, conservative wrought iron table out on the patio, streams of the early morning sun doing nothing to hide the rosiness burnishing his cheeks as his eyes widened and he looked up at you from his phone, looking quickly away again as he took in your expression, pout on his lips as he reached for his drink.

He was working diligently on downing his glass of ice water as you tucked yourself into your chair, glass nearly tipping over as he sat it back down and cleared his throat, brown of his eyes avoiding the look on your face at all costs.

“Good morning, hot stuff,” and you had to laugh a little as he groaned and squirmed in his seat.

“Oh, come on,” he whispered, “why? this is-this is just -”

“Good morning, Ned” you nodded, smile still on your face as you took in Ned’s confused, but humored expression, taking in the half-assed dirty looks Peter was shooting you from across the table as you got comfortable, smiling at him like the sun was on his scarlet face and rapidly bouncing leg.

But then he was shaking his head and grinning at you, melted dark chocolate of his eyes swirling as you quirked a brow at him.

“Peter, what the heck is wrong with you, dude? That’s the first time I’ve ever seen you let her tuck her own chair in,” and then you lost it as Peter groaned again, hiding those starlight freckles and dark eyes between folded arms on the table, fingers shoving his phone away from him in true, dramatic Parker fashion.

“Yeah, what gives Parker? Something wrong with your legs?”

He turned his head, toffee curls a mess, and peeked an eye out at you, corners crinkling and cheeks pushing at baggy under eyes as he grinned. You found yourself winking as you tapped at his nose and said, “Or is there something in your lap?”

“Oh my God, never again.”

But he hadn’t really meant that.

Let me know what you guys think. Feedback is always appreciated. Tag list: @demigodofthesun @jadeindiamonds @radicalstars @klenasdmitry @dej-okay @spiderling–parker @walkers-imagine @kauffdrop @ironspiderling @tomissoprettywow @planet-holland @tonky-stank @someweirdassrandomphrase @deans-angel-of-thursdays @stephie-senpai @alllwebbedup @partytrickparker @hotcupofhollands @spider-bih

#peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker #spider-man: homecoming #spider-man x reader #spider-man x you #spider-man #spider-man fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #sorry #but also not because this was fun

574 notes · View notes