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goodfish-bowl · 4 months ago

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Hounds on Your Tail

Danny Phantom x Percy Jackson

Masterpost

DP Crossover Angst Week Day 3 - Bleeding out in an Alley Way

Warnings: Minor Gore, descriptions of blood, serious injury, blood loss

Notes: God I wrote this whole thing in less than 2 days. Speedrun time, I guess. Apologies for any errors as a result. It wanted to be longer than intended.

Word Count: 4,505

AO3 Link

Whoever the monsters were chasing after, they were after them with a single-minded focus to be envious of. Not even the demigods on their tails were enough to distract them. It was a group of half a dozen hellhounds, and three harpies, all dead set on chasing the same thing. And whoever they were chasing, was giving them one hell of a chase.

Percy had only noticed the commotion because he was in the city visiting his mom, and had quickly decided to call for backup as fast as he could. Ms. O’Leary had managed to drag over both Nico and Will, both fully equipped. Annabeth had been tagging along on his visit. She was currently trying to figure out where the monsters and who they were chasing were headed. After the fifth double-back, it was clear that the person running was just trying to shake off the monsters, and possibly the group of demigods too. Percy was trying to at least spot who the monsters were chasing but had yet to catch sight of anything other than a beaten, red sneaker around a corner.

Will had managed to get a lucky shot in, killing a harpy with one of his arrows, and both Percy and Nico had each gotten a hellhound. Sometime between when the group of demigods had first spotted the monsters and now, a hellhound and a harpy had both vanished. Percy wondered if whoever they were chasing had managed to kill both monsters or if they merely had broken off from the rest of the group. But Percy was getting just a bit tired of playing chase throughout all of New York City, he had no doubt that the monsters’ target was beginning to flag too.

The remaining four monsters quickly darted around the latest alley detour their unfortunate prey had bolted into. Percy skidded to a halt, suddenly having three hellhounds cornered in a dead-end alley, pinned against a brick wall. The harpy angrily screeched and flew over the wall to continue the chase. Between the four of them, the hell hounds didn’t stand a chance, quickly becoming piles of yellow dust. From the other side of the wall, the harpy screeched again, followed by cries of pain and fighting.

“Shit! How did they get to the other side of the wall?” Percy cursed, before turning to Annabeth.

Percy didn’t have to say a thing, only crouch down. Annabeth came at him in a dead sprint. It was timed perfectly, as she stepped up onto his clasped hands and he flung her to the top of the wall, pulling herself up the rest of the way. Nico took hold of Will and vanished into the shadows of the alley.

Percy was left alone on the opposite side of the alley. Luckily for him, there was a pipe clinging to the bricks of one of the buildings. It had just enough foothold for him to quickly climb up it and perch on top of the brick wall. Below, Will was hunched over a small figure leaning against the bricks, with Annabeth standing to the side, and Nico farther back. Percy jumped down.

Percy winced, finally getting a glimpse at the person the monsters had been chasing for the past hour, possibly longer before he and Annabeth had noticed. It was a teenage boy with a mess and thick, black hair on his head. Blood seeped heavily from his stomach, and Percy recognized the slash of harpy claws. Will was trying to get the teen to stop clutching his stomach so he could at least check the wound. The boy’s jeans looked like they had been torn up even more from the hellhounds, with two large bite marks visible on his legs. There was blood smeared on the bricks he was leaning against, suggesting another wound on his back.

“No! I’ll be fine, you have to leave before they come back!” The teen pleaded.

“I told you, we’ll be fine! We killed the ones who were chasing you. It’s you I’m more worried about. You’re practically bleeding out in this alley! I need to make that harpy didn’t gut you!” Will argued back.

“You really should let him at least check, he won’t stop until you let him,” Nico added.

Percy frowned, not liking the situation one bit. He turned to Annabeth, who was glancing between their mystery teen-likely-demigod, and the top of the wall.

“What is it, Wise Girl?”

“I’m trying to figure out how he managed to get over that wall before the harpy could fly over.”

“There was a pipe I used to get over. He could’ve done that,” Percy offered.

“Not with two chunks taken out of his legs. I’m surprised he even managed to run after taking damage like that,” Annabeth refuted.

Percy winced, “Yeah, he certainly looks like he’s had a pack of hellhounds on his tail for over an hour.”

“Percy!” Will called out, and he snapped to attention.

Will had gathered the bleeding boy into his arms, finally revealing a mix of wounds across his back from both claws and talons.

“Nico and I are taking him back to camp! The slash on his stomach is too deep, I need to treat him there,” Will rushed.

“Got it,” Percy nodded. “Annabeth and I will meet you back at camp.”

“No,” the teen protested, but was unable to fight back, seeming to be getting weaker by the second. Will’s clothes were slowly being soaked with blood.

“Hurry,” Nico said.

Will nodded and the three vanished into the shadows.

“Percy,” Annabeth called out, walking over and crouching down where the teen had been leaning against the wall. “Is it just me, or is there something off about his blood?”

Percy crouched down to get a closer look, and sure enough, there were the smallest flecks of green of all things in the blood. He didn’t like that one bit. Those monsters had to be after that teen for some reason or another, but Percy had never heard of a demigod with green flecks in their blood either. Whatever it was, the monsters really wanted him dead.

“We should hurry back to camp,” Percy decided.

“Yeah.”

And the two took off.

Danny officially banned himself from the big cities, especially places as crowded as New York City. With Jazz off at college and his leash pulled tight around his parents, there was no way he was getting out of not going to their latest ghost-hunter convention. No excuses had worked, and he had tried everything from faking illness to group projects. Danny had been forcibly dragged from Illinois to NYC in the GAV. Sam and Tucker were keeping a close eye on the portal for him at the very least, and he was sure he could fly back within the day if they got overwhelmed.

Turns out, his parents had misinterpreted ‘ghostbuster’ for ‘ghost hunter’, and ended up dragging him to a comic con instead. That was cool, and his parents were thought to be cosplayers for all of 10 minutes before security refused to let them through due to their weapons. His parents still had a presentation to do, even if people just thought they were method acting, so Danny got sent back with an armload full of weapons to dump back in the GAV. Unfortunately for him, one went off, thoroughly shorting out his powers. Danny wasn’t going to let that bother him though. He had intended to go back inside and enjoy the con, avoiding his parents the entire while, He didn’t need powers for that.

But then the first dog monster appeared.

Danny had thought it was a ghost at first, and with his powers shorted out, he couldn’t necessarily rely on his ghost sense. With no powers and a very aggressive possibly-a-ghost dog on his heels, Danny took off running. Before he knew it, there was a whole pack of them, literally nipping at his heels, and doing their best to tear him to shreds. The bird ladies, (harpies if he remembered correctly), joined in not long after, adding in a much harder ‘dodging’ section to the chase. He thought it was weird no one was freaking out about the dogs of the harpies, but maybe New York was just like that?

Danny knew there were people on his heels too, but he didn’t have time to stop and see if they were also hostile or not. Glancing back had earned him harpy claws to the back. Even worse, the more he bled, the more excited his pursuers seemed to get, trying even harder to tear him to shreds. The pot shots he had managed to take at the dogs and harpies were only towards the end, when the steady hum of his powers, as unreliable as they were, started to return. More of them vanished as the chase went on, and Danny was just going to assume he lost them. He had managed to hit one of each, barely catching them collapse into a yellow powder before accidentally cornering himself in an alley.

Danny had run into the bricks first, before finally able to slip through them with intangibility. He only had a moment to breathe before the harpy flew over the wall and tackled Danny to the ground, sinking its talons into his gut. He screamed and fired off another desperate ectoblast that missed by a wide margin.

Danny got to meet his second group of pursuers as two people emerged from the shadows in the alley. One had immediately turned into nothing more than a black blur to Danny’s eyes, forcing the harpy off of him. He had tried to stand up to face the new possible threat, but blood loss forced Danny against the brick wall behind him, sliding down it and likely tearing open the wounds on his back even further. His vision blurred, and Danny was only able to make out golden blonde hair and a bright orange t-shirt approaching him.

Danny cried out, clutching his stomach while trying to force himself back to his feet. The blonde forced themself between Danny and the view of the fight behind him. There was an impact to his left, and Danny was able to make out another person-shaped blur, also blonde with an orange shirt, who took off to help with the fight.

“Hey!” The one in front of him tried to get his attention, but he could barely make out the rest of what they said. His head was feeling uncomfortably light.

Danny struggled for a moment and got his vision to barely focus, but he was able to make out that the person in front of him was a guy and seemed really concerned.

“Hey, I need you to let me see your wound. I’m a medic, I can help,” the guy demanded.

Danny immediately recoiled.

“No! I’ll be fine, you have to leave before they come back!” Danny didn’t want anyone here if there were more possibly-ghosts on his tail. He couldn’t use his powers around other people!

“I told you, we’ll be fine! We killed the ones who were chasing you. It’s you I’m more worried about. You’re practically bleeding out in this alley! I need to make sure that that harpy didn’t gut you!” The medic argued back.

“You really should let him at least check, he won’t stop until you let him,” a second voice butted in. He sounded like he was underwater.

The blonde guy said something else, but Danny couldn’t tell what. There was suddenly a hand on his wrist and he attempted to struggle, but the stranger had a vice grip. He forced Danny’s arm away from his stomach, then said something else. It… probably… hopefully looked a lot worse than it really was. Danny had taken hard hits before and still got up. He had to get away.

Danny felt the hands on him re-adjust and tried to struggle again, but he felt so heavy. He grit his teeth and thrashed as best as he could, but his limbs barely responded. He could feel how absolutely soaked his clothing was though. He was being picked up and the entire world tilted around him. The second person approached, nothing more than a dark blob in Danny’s vision.

His jumbled senses refused to give him anything else before darkness crept in in more ways than one, and Danny passed out.

Danny woke up to acute, stinging pain, taking in a sharp breath that caused him to choke. His vision swam in white while he practically hacked out a lung. In less than a second, there was a supportive hand on his back practically propping him up, before slowly lowering him once again. Danny blinked the light out of his eyes, trying to see where he had ended up this time.

Well, good news, it wasn’t a government facility. Bad news, Danny appeared to be in an infirmary of some kind. The wood interior betrayed it as some sort of cabin, despite its purpose. Danny winced at the familiar sensation of pulling on healing wounds.

“Sorry, but you might not want to move too much just yet,” a voice apologized.

Danny snapped to the person standing over him. An older teen with golden blond hair, tanned skin, and light blue eyes. He was definitely familiar, and Danny wondered if this was the same guy from the alley.

“I just finished with your stitches not that long ago, but now that you’re awake, we can get some ambrosia into you to finish healing the rest of your injuries,” the guy continued. “But you should probably still take it easy for a while.”

Danny just blinked, openly staring at the guy giving him medical advice. He had no idea what ambrosia was. Also stitches, while normally a good thing, was a bad thing for Danny. He was going to end up healing, or burning through them. He prodded just the slightest bit at his core… and good, his powers were back. Which now left his other issue. His caretaker had left his side to go retrieve something from one of the cabinets.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the medical care, but who are you? And also where am I?” Danny asked.

The older teen blinked, turning back to Danny. “Oh right! Sorry, guess we forgot introductions due to the circumstances. I’m Will Solace, head of the Apollo Cabin. You’re currently at Camp Half-Blood right now.”

Danny stared at Will, rotating the names in his head. ‘Half-blood’, huh? That certainly said something, but Danny didn’t know what. He wondered if it was a joke of some kind.

“I’m Danny,” he introduced himself, just giving his first name.

“It’s nice to meet you, Danny. I’m sure the others are going to be eager to meet you. It’s not often that someone can outrun a group of hellhounds and harpies for that long!” Will praised.

Danny mouthed the word ‘hellhounds’ in light confusion. Well, at least he got confirmation that other people knew about the dog monsters and bird ladies. He could also rule them out of being ghosts, since Danny had never encountered a ghost that turned into dust after being defeated.

Will walked back over and placed a small, parchment paper-covered square in his hand. Danny opened it, revealing something that looked like a small lemon square. He sniffed it, getting a citrusy and spiced scent. Weird combination, but a snack was a snack.

“I know I gave you a whole square but-” Will started, only to yelp as Danny popped the whole square in his mouth without hesitation.

It tasted pretty close to how it smelt, but had an odd texture, like fudge instead of a lemon bar, but also uncomfortably chewy. It kind of reminded him of ectoplasm in the strong citrus flavor, but lemon instead of lime. The spices were really warm in his mouth like hot cinnamon, instead of the cool tingly flavor he kinda liked from ectoplasm.

“You weren’t supposed to eat the whole thing!” Will exclaimed, and Danny swallowed.

Will was on Danny in an instant, checking his temperature with the back of his head. Apparently, he didn’t like what he felt and stuck a thermometer into Danny’s mouth. The thermometer beeped after a moment, and Will snatched it, checking the numbers. His legs and back itched, but Danny couldn’t scratch at them due to his stomach injury, which also itched.

“Well, you’re not going to burst into flames at least. You’re not even heating up, if anything you’re hypothermic,” Will announced.

It took him a moment to realize why Will was freaking out, but Danny figured it out eventually. If the terrible lemon square was like ectoplasm, then it was very much not intended for normal consumption without consequences. Will’s words caught up to him then.

“Wait? Flames?” Danny asked, bewildered.

“Ambrosia, the food of the gods, can cause normal people to burst into flames. For people like us, eating too much can cause some pretty bad fevers and internal damage,” Will explained.

That made sense if it was like ectoplasm. But- “What do you mean ‘people like us’?”

Will’s face scrunched up. “Well, um. I’ve only had to give this talk a few times. I’m not normally the one to do it but…” Will made eye contact with Danny. “What do you know about Greek mythology?”

The question seemed a bit left-field to Danny. “A decent amount, I think.” There were ghosts that resembled Greek myths, usually closer to Pandora’s place.

“Well, it’s not as mythological as it may seem. Everything from monsters, as I’m sure you're familiar with by now, to the gods themselves is very real,” Will said like it was supposed to be some sort of big revelation.

Danny processed the information. So the ‘hellhounds’, as Will called them, were Greek monsters, not ghosts. Didn’t like that. He liked that they had decided he was a chew toy even less.

“Okay… and? That revelation didn’t answer the question.”

This time, it was Will’s turn to look gobsmacked for a moment before continuing. “Well, the gods didn’t go anywhere and still exist in modern times. And sometimes they come down and… interact with mortals,” Will added hesitantly.

Danny remained silent. He still didn’t get where the blonde was going with this. He was very tempted to start picking at the stitches in his stomach.

Will seemed to give up with whatever subtly he had been attempting. “Demigods. We’re demigods. You, me, most people at this camp.”

“Oh.”

Danny knit his brows together, crossing his arms and frowning, thinking it over. He wasn’t a demigod, that’s for sure. He wasn’t half-god, but half-ghost. Sure, Danny knew there were some pretty terrifying spirits in the Ghost Zone who could easily be mistaken for gods, so it was possible there was a mix-up with him here too.

“After the monsters and the fact that you didn’t burst into flames after eating the ambrosia, yeah, that pretty much confirms you’re a demigod,” Will said.

Danny did not want to be involved in whatever this mess was. He had enough problems in Amity Park.

“Okay, cool. So, um. I’m a demigod, great. What am I supposed to do with that information?” Danny asked. He wanted to leave. His parents would notice eventually he had gone missing sooner or later.

“Well, Camp Half-Blood exists as a sort of ‘safe spot’, and also a training ground. Monsters can’t get in here. It’s technically a summer camp, but we have campers who stay here both seasonally and year-round. It’s considered really dangerous to be all on your own. You’re probably the oldest new camper we’ve had in a while. Most tend to make their way here between 10 to 12 years old.”

“Do I have to come here?”

Danny did not want to be forced to attend demigod camp. Being out of Amity Park for a week was terrible, but an entire summer? Yeah, no way.

Will frowned. “Not… really, but-”

The door to the cabin opened, and another older teenager walked in. Tall, dark hair and sea green eyes. Danny didn’t recognize him at all.

“Hey, Will!” The new guy greeted, before noticing Danny stare at him. “Cool, you’re awake. Did Will give you the whole ‘congrats, you’re a demigod’ speech yet?”

“Percy,” Will practically whined. “I can’t believe you left that to me, but yeah, I did.” Will looked back at Danny. “Danny, this is Percy Jackson, he was part of the group who found you and brought you here. Percy, this is Danny,” Will introduced.

Danny still didn’t recognize Percy, but he acknowledged that bleeding out on the ground wasn’t especially good for recall.

“Thanks for the save. I like not being turned into bird food.”

Percy snorted a laugh and Will sighed. “No problem. I didn’t do much. The main people you have to thank is Will here and Nico, wherever he’s at.”

“Probably sleeping,” Will hummed in thought.

“Probably,” Percy agreed. “By the way Danny, do you have any idea who your godly parent might be? A few of us like to make friendly bets when we get a new kid. I’ve got money on Hermes.”

Danny didn’t get a chance before Will butted back in.

“Percy, he’s been up just long enough for me to get some ambrosia in him. I literally just explained the whole ‘demigod’ thing,” Will scolded.

Percy gave a sheepish grin. “Sorry. So, what’d the ambrosia taste like? I know it throws a lot of people off when they first try some,” Percy asked, directing the question towards Danny.

“Like a lemon bar someone decided to melt an entire bag of red hots in,” Danny described. “So, bad.”

Both Percy and Will blinked, before Percy snorted, “That’s a new one.”

“It’s not supposed to taste bad. It usually tastes like something you really like,” Will explained.

“Darn, I guess,” Danny shrugged. “Anyways, I do have to leave.”

“Leave? You’re not sticking around?” Percy asked, surprised.

Danny shook his head. “Nope. I’m only in New York for a convention with my parents. They’ll probably notice I’m missing sooner or later,” Danny answered truthfully.

Percy seemed to think about something before asking, “Are you healed up enough to at least get a tour? I understand if you have to go, but it’d probably be a good idea to at least get your hands on a weapon just in case you get attacked again.”

That, Danny could agree to. He wiggled a bitin his bed a bit, noticing that the itching had finally subsided. His stomach was still a bit sore, but other than that, and the stitches that sorely needed to be removed, he was fine.

“Sure,” Danny said, sitting up and throwing his legs over the side.

Will seemed dumbfounded but wasn’t able to get the words out before Percy declared, “Neat. Then let’s go!”

And Danny managed to escape the infirmary.

Percy decided he liked Danny. He was laid back and friendly enough, giving just as much snark as he got. From what he had heard, a lot of new campers tended to freak out for at least an hour, but Danny took it all in stride, more exasperated than shocked. It was a little odd, but Percy brushed it off as just part of Danny’s personality. It wasn’t a bad trait to have.

Percy made sure to give a decent tour as they made their way to the weapons shed. He asked questions and answered some, learning that Danny was originally from a place called Amity Park in Illinois. His parents were here for the Comic Con, and Danny got dragged along. He said he had always been quick on his feet. Percy really hoped Danny would come back for the summer, even if he couldn't stay now. He told Danny all the demigod basics, from what ‘claiming’ was, how the camp was laid out, and even some of the activities they participated in when there were more people around.

From the weapons shed, Danny ended up picking a bronze short sword and was given a sheath to go with it. He told Percy that he knew how to use it just a bit from a couple of martial arts classes. He told Danny to come back and he could personally teach him how to sword fight like a pro.

But throughout the whole tour, Percy picked up on the nonchalance Danny seemed to have, more like he was a tourist instead of someone who had finally found a place to stay. He definitely wasn’t planning on coming back, but he might anyway. Percy knew personally very well that plans rarely went according to plan. They got plenty of attention while walking around, since news of Danny’s chase had already managed to spread throughout the camp. There were some jeers and encouragement from people who tried to recruit him for Capture the Flag. Percy claimed he already called dibs. Danny just laughed.

They were somewhere near the pavilion when it happened.

Percy had just managed to convince Danny to at least stick around for dinner. A bright symbol appeared over Danny’s head, causing everyone who had been gathering to pause. Percy recognized the symbol, but never over anyone’s head in a claiming. It wasn’t a symbol that should even be possible to appear.

The air in camp changed immediately, and Danny noticed just as fast. His stance changed from lax into defensive. He knew how to fight a lot better than he let on, or perhaps it was just instinct. Percy hoped it was instinct.

“What’s that? What’s going on?” Danny practically demanded.

“You’ve been claimed,” Percy stated, more in horror than awe.

“Claimed? By who?” Danny was just as confused as everyone else seemed to be.

But Danny didn’t understand, he didn’t know. It was impossible, it was catastrophic, even. Danny didn’t realize just how bad this was.

“Son of Cronos,” someone hissed.

Danny finally seemed to get the memo then, his facial expression going from confusion, to shock, to realization, and then to irritation of all things.

“Ancients, of course he did,” Danny growled under his breath.

Percy had to act fast, he had to- his hand slipped right through Danny’s wrist, who leaped back out of reach at the same time Percy moved.

“Yeah, I’m leaving now,” Danny said. “Thanks for the sword and the tour, but I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Percy called out, jumping towards Danny again.

He vanished. No flash, no sound, just gone, leaving only footprints behind.

Percy cursed under his breath in a thorough mix of both Greek and Latin. He took a glance towards the head table, where Mr. D and Chiron were both also staring. Chiron looked like he had just aged 40 years, and Mr. D looked about ready to break his sobriety with something much stronger than wine and deeply, deeply exhausted.

Yeah, this was beyond bad.

#goodfish writes #danny phantom #percy jackson #dpcaw24 #dp crossover #dp x pjo #Danny absolutely goes an yells at Clockwork for this #Clockwork thinks its funny #he's the only one laughing #meanwhile Olympus is in shambles and so are the Camps since Danny's gone 'missing'#he went home #Danny is absolutely trying his best to NOT get involved

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vvossy · 4 months ago

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Transmasc Summer 🐋🐚 Sims4 CC Masterpost

Top surgery - RFF Phalloplasty - Hysterectomy

───── ⋆ 𓇼°˖🌊 ───── INFO ───── 🌊˖°𓇼⋆─────

I've wanted phalloplasty scars in the sims4 for eons now as a few of my OCs (pictured above) have had bottom surgery, but no one had made any yet, so I decided to make my own.

I ended up going all out and also making a set of hysterectomy and top surgery scars to match the style of my phalloplasty scars.

This is my first ever cc!! So if anyone has tips or tricks or really useful tutorials pls send them over I'm very fresh to all this.

I've tried to make them all be Maxis Match and Base Game accessible!

Pose Used in the header image 🐚࣪ 𓈒

───── 🌊˖°𓇼⋆─────

Top Surgery Scars

Base game Compatible

Masculine Frame Only

Teen - Elder

21 swatches ( 7 top surgery types ((Double Incision, Inverted T, Keyhole, Periareola, Fishmouth, Lollipop)) with 3 transparencies each )

Can be found in the scar category ( front torso + right arm )

Free + No ads download

───── 🌊˖°𓇼⋆─────

Hysterectomy Scars

Base game Compatible

Both Frames

Teen - Elder

21 swatches ( 7 hysterectomy types ((5 laparoscopic + 2 open surgery)) with 3 transparencies each)

Can be found in the scar category ( fem frame in front torso + masc frame in left arm )

Free + No ads download

───── 🌊˖°𓇼⋆─────

RFF Phalloplasty Scars

Base game Compatible

Both Frames

Young adult - Elder

6 swatches ( left and right arm with 3 transparencies each )

Can be found in the scar category ( front torso + back torso )

Free + No ads download

───── ⋆ 𓇼°˖🌊 ───── DO NOT───── 🌊˖°𓇼⋆─────

Reupload (To here or any other sites, reblogging is welcomed though!!)

Put behind a paywall

Steal/claim the cc as yours

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greynatomy · 1 year ago

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take me or leave me

leah williamson x reader

obsessed with this song. my musical era is back.

anyone here watched rent? if you want a visual of how reader kinda acts while performing, click this link.

masterpost

———

You met Leah when she attended an awards show two years ago. You’d sat at the same table and got to talking. She asked for your number and the two of you would be texting and calling all the time.

Eventually, she asked you on a date, taking you to dinner at a secluded section in the restaurant. That night was a night that you could never forget. She let you talk about your career and passions while you did the same for her.

You were from two different worlds, being well known in your own ways, but understand each other, for the most part.

Two years in, and your relationship still strong. You did have some arguments here and there, that’s normal, but what you learned over the years was how jealous she could get. It was amazing to have someone love you so much that they don’t want anyone coming in between that, but sometimes her jealousy becomes too much, like today.

You invited her and some of her friends to a night out with some of your friends. Your two worlds colliding once more.

Being in a relationship with you, she knew how many people ‘desired’ you. You’ve been a public figure since you were a teen. You’ve had costars who’ve tried to date you, others who openly flirt with you and always reassure Leah that she’s the only one you want. She knows that. Doesn’t mean she has to like the way men and women throw themselves at you.

Today was another one of those days, except this time her jealousy seemed to have amplified. Your friends traveled all the way to London to visit you, Leah inviting some of her Arsenal teammates, meeting at a little karaoke club.

Just an hour of being here, Leah’s mood sours. She keeps seeing people coming up to you, some were fans and some who ‘wanted to get to know you’ and not in a friendly matter. It came to a point where she started to ignore you, staying by her friends.

You’ve had enough of it, so you thought of a way to grab her attention. You grabbed your friend Alex and walked up to the person in charge of the karaoke performances. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper your song choice, he gives you a smile and a thumbs up.

“Alright, alright!” He announces on the microphone getting everyone’s attention. “We’ve got some broadway royalty with us today! Here to perform a classic from hit musical Rent, Y/N Y/LN and Alexis Thomas.

That got Leah’s attention. She directs her eyes towards the stage where you and Alex stood, microphones in hand. Leah or her friends didn’t know this musical, none of them have ever been into broadway musicals so they didn’t know what to expect. You knew this would get her more jealous, but this is what she gets for ignoring you.

Every single day I walk down the street I hear people say "Baby" so sweet

Ever since puberty Everybody stares at me Boys, girls I can't help it, baby

You look to where Leah sat, shrugging your shoulders.

So be kind And don't lose your mind Just remember That I'm your baby

You point a finger towards her.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me Take me baby or leave me

You take your coat off, revealing an outfit that shows more skin than Leah would like. You walk over to where she sat, draping the coat over her shoulders.

A tiger in a cage Can never see the sun This diva needs her stage Baby, let's have fun!

You walk around to your girlfriend, pulling her chair back and sit sideways in her lap, arm draped over her shoulder.

You are the one I choose Folks would kill to fill your shoes You love the limelight too now, baby

You take the strap of your top, slowly dropping it from your shoulder, teasing her.

So be mine But don't waste my time Cryin', "Oh honeybear Are you still my, my, my baby?"

Leah’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me

You turn in her lap, now straddling her, the hand not holding the microphone grabs the back of her neck, yanking her face to yours, nose barely grazing.

No way, can I be what I'm not But hey, don't you want your girl hot? Don't fight, don't lose your head 'Cause every night, who's in your bed?

She tries to hold onto you as you climb out of her lap. You place a hand on her chest, pushing her back and give her a flying kiss, walking back to the stage.

Who, who's in your bed? Kiss, pookie

Alex starts her part. You’ve both sang this song together so many times that the routine is muscle memory.

It won't work, I look before I leap I love margins and discipline I make lists in my sleep Baby, what's my sin?

Never quit, I follow through I hate mess, but I love you What to do with my impromptu baby?

She starts stalking towards you as you back up, running a finger up your arm. She grabs at your face softly, bringing your face close to hers.

So be wise 'Cause this girl satisfies You've got a prize, so don't compromise You're one lucky baby

Leah squirms in her seat, not liking how you and your friend are touchy, steam practically blowing out of her ears. Her friends start to tease her, jealousy easily seen in her face.

As the songs finishes, Leah is quick off her seat, rushing towards you. She grabs your wrist, pulling you towards what you assume the restroom. You turn your head towards your friends and Leah’s teammates, giving them a wink.

Shutting the bathroom door, she pushes you against it, leaning down so you’re face to face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You ask innocently.

“That’s little show you did there?”

“Oh, that.” You extend the ‘a’. “That’s just a little something me and Alex love to perform.”

“Was all the touching really necessary?”

“Yes.”

She looked at you shocked. “What d’you mean ‘yes.’”

“The only way I thought to get your attention after ignoring me all night.”

“People were all over you!”

“And what did the song say? Something like ‘Take me baby or leave me.’”

You give her a quick, but passionate kiss, pushing her away. Making sure to fix yourself it the mirror, you give her a wink, leaving a stunned Leah in the restroom.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #rent

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ivesambrose · 11 months ago

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𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ❅

1. 2. 3.

Claim one or all, it's up to you 🕊️

A small gift from me to you on my solar return 🤍

Winter Sale ☃️

Personal Readings

Masterpost

PayPal

Thank you for the tip 🌹

Picture 1

⋆ You'll be blessed with a love that feels like home or you'll give love and vulnerability a chance.

⋆ Home life will improve if you have been dealing with certain issues related to your house or where you live in the previous months. You'll be able to decorate your surroundings in the way you want and feel more grounded and in tune with your personal space. Any paper work etc will get sorted or finalized.

⋆ Harmony in friendships and making peace with the past. Even making ammends with someone.

⋆ Fated friendships and visits to places you've wanted to go to since a very long time perhaps since you were a kid, teen or young adult.

⋆ Picking up new creative hobbies that make you happy.

⋆ If you've been struggling with your self image, having any hair or skin issues etc you'll see gradual improvement.

⋆ Financial growth in any artistic or healing/nurturing venture/career. Improvement in finances in general.

Picture 2

⋆ Your patience will be rewarded. It will all pay off. While reading this you know exactly what I'm talking about, this could be one or multiple things. Just know that you no longer have to wait. If you know something is already done or is yours, you'll eitherway feel reassured about it, right?

⋆ Courage to leave your current place or situation and venture out. Discovering your life purpose and having fun along the way. You're ready for this adventure!

⋆ No longer being the lone wolf.

⋆ Inevitable changes and breakthroughs.

⋆ All the upheavels of the previous months are gone you can breathe now.

⋆ Power in your words and intentions, whatever you intend will manifest. For some, justice will also be served especially if you have been wronged repeatedly by someone despite the chances and benefit of doubt you've given them. Any legal matters will resolve as well.

⋆ Success in business venture, could be existing one or something you get into. You'll be attracting influential people as well. A new cycle of your life is starting, be excited but take care of your health.

Picture 3

⋆ Being unapologetic in your creative expression. You may have locked yourself away but you've also had enough. Fortune favours the brave.

⋆ Freeing yourself from a situation/place/relationship or even health issue that has been trapping you. You felt confined even severely depressed but you'll be overcoming that. This was a big hurdle on your path for quite some time, now you stand right on top of it.

⋆ Travel to desired destination or a message that paves the way to something significant.

⋆ Not having to prove yourself anymore.

⋆ Someone who tried to dull your shine will fall.

⋆ Possible relocation.

⋆ Making the right decision. Oftentimes a lot of stagnation comes with lack of clarity and not knowing what to do, having the right intuition that serves as a map is an underrated blessing and it will indeed be bestowed on you.

#free readings #tarot community #divination community #pick a card #pac #pile a pile #pick a pile tarot #pile a picture #psychics #psychic reading #spiritual community

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serverusslaype · 1 year ago

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Shameless, pt. 4

snape x professor!reader fic

Shameless Masterpost

hey again B) here is part 4 to Shameless, i hope you guys enjoy it, it gets a little soft at the end, and i mean a little. next chapter im hoping to explore reader and snape's relationship a little more, maybe some more tension im not sure... we shall see

thank you again for reading and supporting this fic with likes, reblogs, comments, everything! i really do appreciate it. :) love u guys

okaaaay LETS GOOO!

Another week and a half had passed and it was now a bitter and cold midweek morning. Since that interaction with Snape in the dungeons, you hadn't seen much of him since, nor really spoken to him. He'd rarely come to dinner in the Great Hall in the evenings, let alone breakfast or lunch. You were a little disappointed with this considering he'd given you permission to use his first name, it felt like he was allowing you into his space. Or at least, that's what your overactive mind was thinking. You thought about it deeper as time went on, and you'd reached the conclusion of it just being a professional thing. It bothered you a little, of course, considering how you felt about him.

You'd just finished teaching a class of fifth-years, preparing them for a mock test on Monday. The lesson was rather smooth-going, apart from having to tend to a student's finger after they were bitten by a fanged geranium. After the whole debacle on your first day back teaching at Hogwarts, you were rather glad that only a bitey flower had gone rogue in this morning's lesson.

Presently, you were currently strolling to the Great Hall, dressed in rather nice, muted yellow-gold robes. You were always proud to represent Hufflepuff colours, you took pride in being sorted in that house after all. The mood at Hogwarts was a little low and cautious, considering students were turning up Petrified at every other corner you turned. Luckily, you had not come across one yet, you didn't think you'd be able to stomach it.

The Dueling Club was due to begin today, with Lockhart hosting it. You'd also heard that a teacher had agreed to help Lockhart with the beginning demonstration. Intrigued, of course, you couldn't miss one of your colleagues shooting a spell towards the bane of your existence.

So here you were, standing to the side in the Great Hall, watching the hustle and bustle of students and teachers eagerly awaiting for the show to start - this is Lockhart we're talking about. A table had been set up in the middle of the Hall, a pretty blue and gold tapestry draped over the top of it, dotted with astrology art. Students surrounded the table, giggling and talking excitedly about what could happen. Or, what could possibly go wrong? you pondered, smiling to yourself.

Soon enough, the man in question had hopped up onto the table. "Gather round! Gather round!" Lockhart's screeching voice reached your ears as you watched him strut across the table, one arm gesturing theatrically at the students. "Can everybody see me?" He questioned, looking at the students with bright eyes. Unfortunately, yes, you thought. "Can you all… hear me? Excellent." Lockhart said, quickly spinning on his heel, the cape attached to his bodice twirling with him elegantly. "In the light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little Dueling Club, to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves; as I myself have done on countless occasions."

You fought against a laugh in the back of your throat, choosing to cough lightly instead. Yeah, remember that time you couldn't handle a classroom full of little pixies? You rolled your eyes and folded your arms against your chest.

"For full details, see my published works." Lockhart added rather arrogantly. Was this guy serious? Merlin, he loved himself far too much. The famous author then proceeded to whip his cape off, throwing it into a gaggle of fawning teen girls. The gasped with excitement, their hands flying up to grab a hold of the piece of clothing.

"Let me introduce… my assistant," Lockhart began, pointing at the opposing side of the table with an open hand, his other one resting valiantly on his opposite hip. You reached up onto your tiptoes in a poor attempt to see what teacher he'd roped into this. Professor Sinistra, perhaps? Or even- "Professor Snape!" He exclaimed.

Your jaw dropped. There was no way in hell you'd heard that right. Before you could second-guess yourself, said wizard began trailing up the stairs to the table with a gloomy look on his face, his arms folded uncomfortably tight against his chest. As he reached the top, he let them unfold, placing them at his side, wand in hand. You noticed he wasn't wearing his cape too.

As Severus walked down the table, you couldn't help your eyes as they glided over his figure, getting embarrassingly distracted by how good he looked in his tight, form-fitting black robes. You had to force yourself to look away as you felt yourself falling victim to his alluring appearance, a searing hot blush now creeping up your neck, heading towards your cheeks. Gods, he didn't even do anything but take his cape off and you were blushing like a teenage school girl.

"He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry," Lockhart went on, glancing at the children who were leaning over the edge to eagerly glance at Snape. Surely, there was no way he willingly agreed to this, but then again, maybe he only agreed to it to have the legal ability to cast a spell on him. "You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him. Never fear." Lockhart professed rather over-confidently, deafening arrogance dripping from his words. You knew Snape was a very good duellist after hearing rumours during your time at school in Hogwarts, so you were confident that he'd dominate Lockhart. At least, that's what you were hoping.

The two wizards walked towards each other, stopping just shy of a foot away. They drew their wands, whipping them up to their own respective faces, before whipping them back down in one quick motions, a sharp swish emitting from the way it sliced through the air. Severus and Lockhart spun around, turning to walk five paces in the opposite direction. Once they were in position, they turned around once again to face each other.

"One, two, three!" Lockhart exclaimed, prompting Severus to draw his wand up at the speed of light. Before Lockhart has a chance to cast anything, the Potions Master was two steps ahead.

"Expelliarmus!" Severus commanded, a bright white light shooting from the tip of his wand, hitting Lockhart square in the chest and sending him flying backwards. Your hand flew to your mouth to muffle an amused laugh as you watched Lockhart fly through the air, a cry of pain escaping his lips as his back thudded against the table.

As you looked back to Severus, you couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Though you had hardly spoken since, it was hard not to feel impressed. The rumours were true, then, you thought, your smile widening. The wizard in question suddenly caught your eye, and you felt your lungs spasm. You had to suck in a breath to compose yourself as your legs tingled.

You nodded at him, wiping the awestruck smile off your lips and pursing them awkwardly instead. To your surprise, Severus acknowledged you back with a nod too. He turned his attention back to Lockhart, who was currently scrambling to get back to his feet. Your cheeks burned at the unforeseen encounter and you felt yourself becoming a little giddy from it. Gods, you really were like a little school girl with a crush.

Fuck. You couldn't understand how you could go from screaming your lungs out at Severus to possibly having a civil relationship with him - how does that even work? Though, you swiftly reminded yourself how that could quickly change, you were well aware of who he was.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious, er, what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would have only been too easy." Lockhart scoffed, strutting back to stand in front of Severus, his gimmicky grin making another appearance on his irritating face. The Potions Master stood nonchalantly, clasping his hands together in front of him. You had to give it to him, he had that poker face down rather well - something you were a little envious of.

"Perhaps it would be prudent, to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, professor." Severus said rather harshly, his tone of voice judgmental. He was totally valid for feeling that way, and for once you found yourself questioning Dumbledore's reasoning as to why he had hired such a useless and clumsy wizard. Surely, someone as wise as him could see through this man's pathetic and hopeless act? Maybe he was just desperate for someone to fill the position. Lockhart looked scared for once, his once confident grin fading as Severus stared him down, a sarcastic smile gracing his face for a split second.

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape." The famous author exclaimed enthusiastically, spinning on his heel to walk the opposite way of him. "Well… let's have a volunteer pair. Erm.. Potter, Weasley, how about you?" Lockhart gestured towards the boys. Ron's face was a picture, he looked awestruck, almost shocked to see that he'd been picked. Harry's face, however, was more fitting.

"Actually, I was thinking Professor L/N could stop lurking in the shadows and come and showcase her impressive range of skills." Severus declared, his rather loud yet deep and intimidating voice echoing throughout the Great Hall. You almost choked on your tongue, did he really just say that? As you looked up at him, Severus tried to hide the amused smirk that was undoubtedly slipping onto his smug face; his hand outstretched to gesture to you. You wiggled your jaw at him, clearly unhappy with what he'd just done. You weren't great at defence, but you knew how to protect yourself with the bare minimum.

"I highly doubt a professor of Herbology would be able to handle me in a duel, I'm afraid, Professor Snape." Lockhart laughed wholeheartedly, the tiniest hint of worry in his tone. Oh, really, is that how it is, Lockhart? Your jaw ticked at his outrageously offensive comment. Now, you really did want to Expelliarmus his ass to Azkaban. Snape continued smirking. He could hardly contain himself. This was perfect. He knew how easy it was to irritate you - he'd definitely had his fair share.

"Certainly, Severus." You called out calmly, watching the gaggle of students in front of you turn around to stare at you. As your eyes met with Lockhart, a flash of fear wiped across his face. That only spurred you on more. Your heels clacked against the floor cutting through the silence in the hall as you walked towards the end of the table that Severus had climbed up. As you reached the stairs, you held up your robes, careful not to trip.

Suddenly, a large and pale hand appeared in your face. Your brows furrowed together in slight confusion, before softening as they saw who it belonged to. You bit your tongue as you tried impeccably hard not to blush in front of half of the school. Graciously, you took Severus's hand lightly, watching how it swamped your smaller one, allowing him to help you up the steps. He was six-foot-one, possibly six-foot-two, after all. Once you were standing on top of the table he released your hand, to your dismay of course, but you didn't show it. There was a bigger thing at stake currently - handing Lockhart's ass to him.

You saw the author clench his jaw harshly, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You couldn't help but paint an innocent smile on your face. Behind you, Severus stepped backwards, allowing you to move past him and towards Lockhart. You nodded at him, keeping your narrowed eyes trained on the strawberry-blonde liability in front of you.

The two of you walked towards each other, stopping in the middle of the table once again. "Wands at the ready." Severus said, trying his best to hide how entertaining he was finding this. You and Lockhart drew your wands, flicking them up to your face again and whipping them down to your sides with a sharp whoosh. You met each other's glaring eyes.

"Hello, friend." You muttered to him quietly, an innocent yet threatening smile gracing your lips. Lockhart's face might have seemed confident and prepared, however his terrified eyes painted a different picture. He was rightfully worried, you still had a lot of unreleased resentment towards him.

"Professor L/N, you are the attacker and Lockhart, you are the defender, obviously." Severus stated.

You and Lockhart turned around and walked forwards five paces, before turning around again. "One, two, three!" Severus called, his eyes widening a tad, eager to see the outcome of his proposition.

"Everte Statum!" You exclaimed, beating Lockhart at his own game. A string of pale pink light shot from the tip of your wand, landing square in the middle of Lockhart's chest. Your eyes were glued onto him as he flew backwards once more, his body flipping through the air like a gymnast - though a lot less graceful. He landed with a muffled thud, a short cry slipping from his mouth. Behind you, Severus was slowly losing his composure, letting a small huff of air escape his lips as he watched you, amused at the scene. He was impressed with your ability, and in his mind he pondered curiously about whether you'd duelled before.

Gasps and laughs erupted from the students surrounding you, though a handful of them also looked worried for Lockhart's wellbeing.

"Not bad for a Herbology professor, methinks." You smiled proudly, clasping your hands together in front of you as you waited for your opponent to climb to his feet again. You half-turned to glance back at Severus, prompting an approving nod from him, the corner of his lips quirking, teasing a small smile. You hummed quietly to yourself as you looked away, returning your attention to Lockhart, your cheeks tinting pink from the eye contact with Snape.

"I believe you owe Professor L/N an apology, professor." Severus said from behind you, quite smugly. You poked your tongue into your cheek, glancing at the floor in front of you to pull yourself together. This whole ordeal was sending you into overdrive. You knew the only reason that Snape was supporting you was because you shared a mutual dislike for Lockhart, but it still felt good to have his approval, perhaps even his attention. You could feel your heart pick up in pace as you thought back to the closeness you and him had shared during those heated, intense bickers.

"I should not have underestimated you, Professor L/N." Lockhart reluctantly said, his hand gently rubbing his behind, clenching his jaw as he stared at you and Snape. You smiled bitterly at him, nodding once and making your way back towards the Potions Master. As you neared him, he leaned towards you, catching your eye. Your breath hitched slightly.

"Nicely done." Severus muttered to you, another tiny smug smirk tugging at his lips. You sucked in part of your bottom lip momentarily before allowing a composed smile to grace your features. "I'm impressed." He added, making your head spin. You swallowed thickly. Gods, you needed to get out of here now if you wanted to leave with at least a shred of your dignity.

"Thanks." You barely managed to keep your voice steady as he leaned away from you, holding his out his hand again for you to take. You took it, praying to Merlin above that your shaking knees didn't give way to you as you carefully stepped down the stairs.

Snape arched a brow at you, his eyes narrowing slightly in a glare, silently reprimanding you for saying such a thing. How could you forget? 'Do not thank me', his words rang in your head as you let go of his hand. As much as you wanted to stay, you weren't sure your heart could take much more of this.

Fuck, maybe that hateful relationship the two of you shared previously was the better option. There was no way you were surviving this year in such close proximity to Severus.

"Don't touch that please, Mr Finnigan." You sighed softly, catching a glimpse of Seamus attempting to reach towards the head of a potted Mandrake. "Not until I say so, and you will see why." You added warningly, watching him reel himself back, a look of slight fear on his face. You smiled gratefully at him. "So, as I was saying, today you will be learning how to handle Mandrakes, and what their uses are." A few curious mutterings came from the students as you stepped forwards, flicking your wand upwards to float some protective earmuffs to each student in the class. They looked at them confusedly, reaching out to grab a hold of a pair.

"Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root?" You asked as you watched the students collect their respective earmuffs, eyes flicking over to a particularly eager Hermione Granger. "Yes, Miss Granger?" You smiled, linking your fingers together.

"Mandrake, or Mandrogora is used to return those who have been Petrified to their original state. It's also quite dangerous, as the Mandrake's cry is fatal to anyone who hears it." Hermione said confidently, widening your smile. She was definitely a bright student.

"Brilliant, ten points to Gryffindor." You nodded, glancing at all of the students. The Gryffindor students all grinned at the sound of your words, giving Hermione an excited nod of thanks. "Now, as our Mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won't kill you yet, but they could knock you out for several hours, hence the earmuffs I have supplied you all with." You said sternly, hoping each and every one of the students were listening. You weren't particularly fond of paying the infirmary a visit today. "For your own safety, you will need to wear these. So please, can you all put them on right away?" You asked politely, feeling a sense of relief as every student obeyed you. "Make sure the flaps are tight down, too." You added sternly, noticing some students had just sloppily placed them on. Said students readjusted their equipment.

"Lovely, now watch me closely." You said, turning your attention to the potted Mandrakes in front of you. "Now, you grasp it firmly," you instructed, fingers grabbing on tightly to the top of the plant, "you pull it sharply out of the pot, like so." Instantly, the high-pitched wailing of the young Mandrake filled the greenhouse, making some of the students squirm out of fright. You couldn't help but smile at them; you remembered the first time you'd experienced the shrill wail of a Mandrake seedling in this very greenhouse. "Okay? Now, you dunk it down into the other pot and pour a little sprinkling of soil to keep him warm." You explained, doing as you said, shovelling handfuls of soil into the new pot with the crying Mandrake seedling inside of it.

Suddenly, the sound of a student groaning caught your attention. You looked up, spotting Neville Longbottom's eyes rolling into the back of his head as he fell backwards, fainting. You sighed. Well, nothing is perfect.

"Mr Longbottom has obviously been neglecting his ear muffs." You pursed your lips, casting a sympathetic gaze his way. It always seems to be Longbottom in trouble. Amused snickers and inquisitive 'oh's broke out for a quick moment before you shut them down with a sharp shush.

"He's just fainted, ma'am," Seamus Finnigan protested, glancing between the unconscious boy and yourself. You nodded at him, holding up a light hand to reassure him.

"He'll be okay, Mr Finnigan, just make sure you don't step on him." You said, inhaling softly, turning your attention back to the whole of the class. "Right, off you go, there's plenty of pots to go around," You gestured to the table in front of you, observing the students carefully. "Grasp the Mandrake, and pull it up sharply like I demonstrated." A chorus of crying and shrieking Mandrakes reached your ears as you observed the class repeat your demonstration and you grimaced slightly at the raucous plants. You forgot how loud these little things were in groups. "Careful, Mr Malfoy, don't-" You sighed again, watching helplessly as he stuck his finger into the mouth of one.

Merlin, give me strength, you pleaded, watching him glare at the Mandrake seedling as he ripped his bitten finger out of it's mouth.

"Professor," came a voice to your right, capturing your attention, "You were great at duelling earlier." A blonde girl with big, blue eyes said. Luna Lovegood.

"Ah, thank you, Miss Lovegood." You smiled at her gratefully. "I'm not usually one to duel, however," You paused for a moment, pondering on your words. These were students you were talking to, so you had to be cautious with what you said. "However, I should really be thanking Professor Snape." You finished with a coy smile.

"He totally likes you, professor, didn't you see the way he helped you up the steps?" Another student called out, inducing some giggles from the girls. You rolled your eyes at them, quite positive that they were just pulling your leg.

"Let's not be hasty, now," You laughed lightly, frowning at their words. "I can tell you now that Professor Snape and I just about tolerate each other. The only reason he helped me up those steps was out of pure chivalry, I can assure you." You felt your cheeks begin to burn as your mind reeled back to earlier this morning, thinking about the way your hand felt in his, and how he looked at you after you had duelled Lockhart.

You cleared your throat and your mind, focusing back on the task at hand. "If I'm honest, I don't believe Professor Snape is capable of producing such feelings for a woman." You added absentmindedly, your tone a little bitter. A chorus of gasps and ooh's reached your ears, reminding you that you were in the presence of students - students that like to talk. "I didn't say that… don't… don't tell him I said that…" You groaned, fingers flying up to grasp the bridge of your nose in stress.

Fuck. You really needed to stop talking without thinking. That was another thing Severus had said to you a couple weeks back at the beginning of the year, no? You were still the same silly girl that didn't think before she spoke? You hated how you were proving him right, especially since you'd denied and protested it.

There was a beat of silence as you stared at the Mandrake seedlings in front of you, your mind floating back to when he was so close to you, his intoxicating smell of smoke, books and sweet wine invading your nostrils. The way his hauntingly dark eyes stare so deep into yours, his nostrils flaring ever so slightly out of anger.

"You're blushing, professor!" An amused student called out, pointing at your burning cheeks as he pulled you out of your daydream. Merlin, these kids were distracting you. Definitely not helping.

"Alright, alright, that's enough chit-chat, ladies and gentlemen, back to work, please." You shook your head, trying to ignore the tightening knot in your stomach. A few bashful giggles erupted in front of you. "I want all of these Mandrakes repotted by the end of the lesson, please."

Soon enough, the bell tolled and your students had done very well, apart from Longbottom, of course. You'd sent an owl to the infirmary to notify Madam Pomfrey of Neville's state. You assured her that he would wake in a few hours. How was this boy continuously finding himself in such situations? Severus was right. Again.

A quiet groan left your lips as you collapsed into your chair behind your desk, eyes glued thoughtfully to a beautiful, singular white lily that you had potted and placed as a decoration on your desk. You were just about to relax into your chair and open up a book to read for an hour or so when you heard Professor McGonagall's worried voice over the intercom.

"All students are to return to their dormitories immediately. All teachers to the second floor corridor." She said hurriedly, causing a worrisome look to stir on your face. This was serious, Minerva had never requested something like this before in your time teaching and learning at Hogwarts.

What had happened now?

part 5

part 4, done and dusted bitches B)

i hope you enjoyed reading, and thank you so much to everyone that has supported this through likes, reblogs and comments!! i appreciate every single one of you. honestly. much love to you guys.

if you would like to be added to the taglist please don't hesitate in leaving a comment below! i'll be happy to :)

taglist:

@a-laufeyson

@emilynissangtr

@livillain00

@meowskii

@nooneeveryonenoone

@vesperbatty

@biggest-simp-eversposts

for the last two users i've tagged, i couldn't remember whether you said you wanted to be tagged or not, so i apologise in advance for the notification

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azure-firecracker · 3 months ago

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Fic Rec Roundup!

In honor of my going off to college (my posts will be slowing down), and finishing 3 seasons of TXF, I asked y’all what sort of “special post” you wanted me to make. You voted on a roundup of some of my favorite TXF fics, so here it is! Prepare to watch me gush profusely about the phenomenal writers in this fandom.

This will be in chronological order, so first time watchers like me need not fear spoilers:)

I’m not including my own writing here, but you can find it in my masterpost.

Without further ado, let’s get into the fics!

Season 1:

starstruck by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 671 words): Set post-Pilot. The title says it all. This is quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever read.

Something Bigger Than Us by Mungo_of_Maundery (General Audiences, 721 words): A nice coda to Deep Throat after Scully rescues Mulder from the air base. Internal monologue is great.

humans in nature by @theswisscheeserag (General Audiences, 2,733 words): Mulder and Scully’s conversations post The Jersey Devil. Philosophy mixed with fluff and some laugh-out-loud humor. Perfectly captures the vibe of early MSR.

Still Feeling My Father Ascend by @cecilysass (Teen and Up, 13,073 words): Mulder and Scully share some tender moments post Beyond the Sea. Both of them have a lot of healing to do, for different reasons. Some of my favorite MSR introspection can be found in this fic, and you can tell how much thought and care this author puts into the characterizations. There’s also several excellent funny moments - a true gem of a fic!

Egit Genius Loci by snow_and_rain (Teen and Up, 21,937 words): Case fic set right after Beyond the Sea. Featuring early-onset MSR, angst, mutual pining, and hurt/comfort. A little whimsical, a little eerie, a little sad.

Between Two Truths by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 1,621 words): Missing scene from E.B.E after Scully’s speech to Mulder. An excellent internal monologue from Mulder’s POV followed by some top-tier MSR banter.

the progression (and regression) of first names by skuls (Teen and Up, 5,421 words): A series of vignettes exploring Scully and Mulder’s relationship as it evolves throughout Season 1. Pitch-perfect Scully characterization and several moments that really showcase her inner conflict fantastically, but also many wonderfully tender MSR scenes (keep an eye out for the coffee scene - my favorite!)

never learned to read your mind by @swinging-stars-from-satellites (General Audiences, 1,071 words): An alternate version of Season 1 where Scully leaves after Deep Throat. Profound, heartwarming, wistful and a bit sad, this takes an interesting concept and really tugs at your heartstrings.

Season 2:

distractions by @thursdayinspace (General Audiences, 1,181 words): Post-abduction. Mulder does his best to help. Absolutely heart-melting, sweet and tender and a little sad too.

The Safety of Guilt by the_status_clo (Teen and Up, 732 words): Mulder’s guilt post-abduction. Do you like to feel miserable? Do you like to slip into a pit of unwavering guilt and wallow in beautiful words? Read this!

Redial by @theswisscheeserag (Teen and Up, 7,423 words): A frequent reread of mine! Set during Mulder and Scully’s quarantine post-Firewalker and told through a series of phone calls. This fic has everything you could possibly want: introspection, angst, fluff, humor, friendship and romance all mixed into one…it’s just really good in 1000 different ways. Endlessly rereadable.

until it heals by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,351 words): A post-Irresistible fic that captures all of the poetry, panic, and drama that is Season 2 MSR. Incredibly tender with some stunning inner monologue moments. A perfect coda to my favorite episode.

Authority and Gravity by Xecotcovach (Teen and Up, 2,338 words): Another excellent fic where Scully (with Mulder’s help) tries to deal with some of her season 2 trauma. Their dynamic here is very tender and their banter is just the right amount of sassy and quippy. Set after Fresh Bones.

If You’re Sinking, I Will Jump Right Over by SammyLovesASOIAF (Teen and Up, 1,642 words): An alternate version of End Game where things go…badly-but then Mulder has to confront his emotions!An interesting alternative, angst with a happy ending. Lovely poetic language; I have some lines from this that I remember word-for-word.

Our Town by @leiascully (Teen and Up, 813 words): Scully’s thoughts during and after the climax of Our Town. Very in-character, appropriately intense, really conveys the fear and desperation intertwined with Season 2 MSR.

Season 3:

Light in Dark Places by @agent-troi (Teen and Up, 2,697 words): Set in Season 3 but it’s really about Irresistible and Scully’s insecurities in general. Peak hurt/comfort, this one makes your heart hurt in the best possible way, and then it feels like a warm hug with the resolution.

Got You(r) Back by @shearmouth (Teen and Up, 4,933 words): This is THE injury fic for me. Set post-731. The hurt/comfort levels in here are unmatched. Scully’s internal monologue is perfect. Mulder is an actual puppy and Scully takes care of him and it makes my heart melt in all of the right ways.

stay close, listen by @actual-changeling (Teen and Up, 2,667 words): Post Pusher. Very angsty, but in the best possible way and with an extremely satisfying resolution. This fic definitely wins best-written: it’s essentially poetry, and its uses of metaphor and literary references are stunning. I can’t recommend this enough.

find me defenseless by @impulsive-astrophile (Mature, 7,421 words): Case fic! Do you like Mulder torture? Do you like badass Scully? If so, you will love this fic because it has both in spades (plus-spoilers-a wonderful ending to make up for the pain). Whenever I’m fed up with the show’s kidnapping ratio, I read this: it’s probably my most frequent reread. I will say that it is more violent than anything I’ve written, so be aware.

Unconfirmed timing but spoiler-free:

unravelling by @actual-changeling (General Audiences, 2,208 words): Scully wakes up to a familiar voice theorizing on her television. What follows is as sweet and humorous as it is charged and just a little tragic.

Shakespirited by orphan_account (Teen and Up, 13,670 words): A fic that I’m pretty sure was written specifically for me. Mulder and Scully go undercover in a Shakespeare troupe plagued by strange murders. If you like TXF and are a Shakespeare nerd, you will love this. Definition of a good time (but there’s some angst too-how could there not be?) I think there are some minor spoilers in here, but nothing to really tell you anything as long as you’ve seen up to Anasazi.

Sometimes You Need to Have Fun by @baronessblixen (Teen and Up, 1,192 words): Fluff written by the queen of fluff herself! Mulder and Scully go ice skating. It’s as adorable and sappy as it sounds.

Stupid Cupid by @mulderwearingglasses (General Audiences, 5,325 words): A Valentine’s Day fic! This features jealous Scully (a delight) as well as some excellent humor and fluff. Overall just a lovely time. There may be some minor spoilers in here, but nothing that told me anything.

#fic rec #fic recs #fic roundup #fanfic rec #fanfic recs #the x files #txf #x files #x files fanfic #x files fanfiction #txf fanfic #txf fanfiction #msr #msr fanfic #dana scully #fox mulder #mulder and scully #mulder x scully

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whumptober · 3 months ago

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Tagging

Please read this post before you send an ask!

Tagging System for Tumblr Posts

This tagging system only applies to works posted on Tumblr that you want to be included in the roundups on @whumptober-archive. While we encourage you to tag your works extensively with regards to triggers, prompts used, etc., the introduced system is only important if you want to be reblogged. If you are not interested in getting reblogged or archived from us, you can ignore our tagging system and use your own.

The following tagging scenarios are based on this imaginary prompt set-up:

Enemy to Caretaker

Support | IV Drip | “I’ve got you"

Tagging System

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Collection Posts of all your Whumptober 2024 fills

You are NOT required to make a masterpost, but if you want to, we will pick it up and reblog it in early November. Please post it by November 3rd so we can grab it from the tags. After November 5th we will no longer reblog for this year.

You can add fandoms, prompts, trigger etc. to the top of your post instead of the tags in order to save tagging space for the Masterposts.

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Posting on AO3

While we encourage you to tag your works extensively with regards to triggers, prompts used, etc., you only have to follow AO3’s rules for tagging.

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The canonical tag is Whumptober 2024, entered in the Additional Tags field. (Don’t worry too much about this, the wranglers will sort it out.)

#whumptober2024 #tagging #whumptober information #event info 2024 #event info #whumptober

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thefreakandthehair · 1 year ago

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 17th: Oct 17th: Tolkien | Ramble On - Led Zeppelin | Intelligent a/n: hospital setting, painkillers, post-canon fix-it, eddie & nancy friendship, steddie. un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

today's prompt is a lost scene from day 6's prompt, crush:

Nancy figured it out when Eddie was in the hospital, still a little loopy from painkillers and who knows what else. You were on another planet and couldn’t stop talking about his chest hair, Eddie.

Nancy Wheeler sits in the little white chair next to Eddie Munson’s hospital bed, the rhythmic beeping of his heart monitor the only noise keeping her company. Well, that, and the sound of her own voice, softly reading The Fellowship of the Ring while Eddie dozes.

They’ve taken turns, the older teens and a few of the kids, oscillating back and forth between Max’s room and Eddie’s room to ensure no one is left alone for too long while Wayne and Susan are at work. Hospital bills aren’t cheap and while the government will most likely reimburse them for their troubles, right now, things are tight.

It’s Nancy’s turn in Eddie’s room tonight, picking up where Wayne’s left off in Eddie’s favorite book. Worn and well-read, the book’s loose spine allows Nancy to let it rest on her thigh as she flips through the pages:

“But long ago he rode away, and where he dwelleth none can say; for into darkness fell his star, in Mordor where the shadows are," Nancy reads, glancing up when she sees Eddie begin to squirm.

“Mordor,” Eddie murmurs, his voice slurring a bit from the painkillers. “You know, Led Zeppelin wrote a song with Mordor in it.”

“Oh, did they?” She’s seen him like this a few times now, barely present but speaking in a stream of consciousness. Sometimes, it’s about Dungeons and Dragons. Sometimes, it’s about music, or books– his underappreciated intelligence shines through even the strongest of IV drugs.

And sometimes, it’s about Steve. That one had been a surprise at first, but keeps all of his ramblings secret, unsure of what he’s telling the others. It’s best to simply indulge him, she’s learned. He never remembers anyways.

“Mhm,” he cracks open one eye and grins before he starts to sing. “In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met a girl so fair.”

Before she can respond, Eddie continues in his drug-addled haze. “In the darkest depths of Mordor, I met Steve. Sweet, sweet Steve. Steve and his chest hair. Ever notice how hairy he is?”

Nancy shakes her head and purses her lips, bemused. “I did, yeah, I was there, remember?”

“Nope,” Eddie says with a pop. “But I do remember that jungle he calls a chest.”

She snorts back a laugh and tries to subtly hide it behind her hand. Eddie doesn't notice, simply stares through half-lidded eyes and falls back against the pillows.

“But Gollum and the evil one crept up and slipped away with her-er, her-er,” he continues to sing and wax poetic.

Eddie’s heart monitor begins to speed up. “Where is Steve, actually? Is he okay?”

Nancy smiles, fond and knowing, and places a hand on top of his. “He’s fine, he’ll be here later.”

Sometimes, Eddie forgets how much time has passed from that awful day in Forest Hills, that Steve’s healed up and visits three times a week. That sometimes, Steve visits outside of their established rotation, just because. She never begrudges having to remind him though. How could she when she gets to see the relief drip from his face when he hears again that Steve’s okay?

Eddie lays back again, the measured beats of his heart monitor returning to a comfortable, predictable tempo. Nancy picks the book back up and continues to read until she sees the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath the white sheets.

“Hey,” a familiar voice whispers from the doorway. Nancy turns to see Steve standing there, leaning against the frame. “How’s he holdin’ up?”

“Hey,” she smiles. “He was a little out of it earlier from the medication, but he’s been asleep for a few minutes now. I’ve just been reading to him, if you wanna pick up where I left off.”

Nancy closes the book with the ribbon inside to hold the page and stands, clearing the chair for Steve. “He’s all yours.”

As the steel door closes behind her, she hears Steve’s voice begin reading.

‘Is there no escape then?’ said Frodo, looking round wildly. ‘If I move I shall be seen and hunted! If I stay, I shall draw them to me!’

Strider laid his hand on his shoulder. ‘There is still hope,’ he said. ‘You are not alone.’

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler & eddie munson #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts #i wanted to do more bc this is my fav song but alas!

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lenreli · 5 months ago

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content with splitting hairs [Dreamling Week Day 6 - Monochromatic]

[AO3] | [Dreamling Week '24 Masterpost]

Title from KMFDM's Spit or Swallow!

E, 5.8k. Hob dresses like how he wants to dress. Morpheus’s wardrobe is so ― dull, suits upon suits in black and white, an insanely boring monochromatic tableau, even his casual clothes are just the most basic black, no frills or patterns, drilled into him by his parents.

Morpheus tries to think ― but can’t, with the screaming and guitar riffs coming from the club, with Hob’s hands, covered in dark fingerless gloves as they go under his dress shirt, buttons ripping off along with his suit jacket.

And he doesn’t want to think ― wants to only feel and not overthink as he tends to do as he whines, even with his earlier wariness to enter such a dingy club bathroom, but he can only grab onto Hob’s leather jacket as they kiss, cold metal of a tongue piercing pressing against the top of his mouth, breath tasting of cheap whiskey.

“You came in here wearing this?” Hob asks, disbelieving as the zip of his pants gets pulled down, darkly-lined eyes staring at him and Dream swallows. “Terrible,” there’s a creak of leather as Hob kneels down and his eyes widen, brain stuttering as his dress pants get pulled down, and his cock, newly free, twitches under the other’s stare.

Whatever words he’s means to say come out as a garbled whine as Hob swallows him, cold metal against the underside of cock making him gasp, head thunking against the bathroom stall as he holds onto brown-grey hair, touching near the other’s ears, shells of them full of spiked earrings and he definitely doesn’t think as Hob does a stellar job of redirecting his brain through his dick.

Hob dresses like how he wants to dress. Morpheus’s wardrobe is so ― dull, suits upon suits in black and white, an insanely boring monochromatic tableau, even his casual clothes are just the most basic black, no frills or patterns, drilled into him by his parents. No chains or mesh or leather, even though he now lives in his own apartment, far away from his parent’s influence, an adult.

Once, he vaguely remembers the disgusted way his parent’s steered him away from a spiked choker as a teen, saying various disparaging things about the people who wear them, and of course their son won’t have a phase like those degenerates.

He doesn’t mean to spill this to Hob, considering they only just met recently. Morpheus blames the mind-blowing sex, as he worries if he’ll have to leave Hob’s apartment, stuffed full of odds and ends―”wow, if I ever meet your parents, I’m punching them in the face,” Hob says near his chest and he freezes, digesting the words as he settles himself back on Hob’s lap.

“That is a bit much,” he offers tentatively. Hob laughs, the other’s hands trailing up his back, dress shirt loosely covering him.

“I’ve been known to be that,” Hob says with a wriggle of his brows, the eyebrow piercing glinting blue in the light. “Well, no time to waste!” Hob chirps, pulling them up and Morpheus’s breath leaves him as they go to Hob’s bedroom. “Mesh shirt?” Hob glances at him, a hand on his beard as he opens his wardrobe with a flourish.

Morpheus’s eyes widen at the explosion of things in the other’s wardrobe, leather items falling out of the wardrobe as Hob grumbles and puts them back haphazardly, pulling out a black fishnet shirt and putting it against his chest. “How?” He breathes, staring at not only the black and chains, but various colours of all types.

“Bit too much at once, got it,” Hob nods and puts the shirt back, going into his wardrobe and picking up various shirts. “Mainly op shops, or stuff I’ve made myself, or got from others. Stolen.” Hob takes out a black shirt, giving him a critical look before shaking his head and putting it back in. “Ah-hah!” Hob grins as he takes out a long-sleeved black shirt with spikes on one shoulder, as well as leather straps joining the shoulder from either side.

Blinking, he gently takes the shirt, heart beating absurdly fast as he takes off his dress shirt and pulls on the other’s shirt. Looking down at his hands, he touches the spiked shoulder in amazement, the straps crinkling under his hands, and he notices silver along the cuffs, spiky bracelets that are stapled on.

“Well?” Hob asks, rocking back and forth on his chunky platforms, wide grin on his face.

“It’s,” he frowns, having no frame of reference for how ― right he feels, like something’s slotted into place, weight crumbling off of him as he feels the soft black fabric. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah!” Hob shouts and Morpheus feels himself smile, out of control with the rightness that settles within him. Then Hob leans in to kiss him, hands framing his face and he shivers, falling into the other’s mouth easily as they make their way to Hob’s bed, messy and unmade. “Also, you look unbearably sexy in my clothes,” Hob purrs and he whines, tugging off the other’s leather jacket, the mesh shirt underneath as they continue to kiss, getting more deep and heated.

“Stolen?” He says once his brain boots back up, hands on Hob’s thighs as they rest, the other’s bed messed up even more as he rests on Hob’s chest.

“Mainly when I was younger. Now I’m a responsible adult,” Hob says, kissing his hair and going down to his temple. “Mostly,” Hob amends. Morpheus hums and touches Hob’s nipple, the piercing on it taking his attention. “Morpheus,” he hums, fascinated by the silver ring ― until Hob pokes him on his shoulder and he blinks, looking up at Hob’s face. “I have to get ready for work soon.”

Morpheus freezes, climbing off of Hob, the air cold after the heat of the other’s body, “then, I should―”

Hob rolls his eyes and pokes his forehead. “You’re staying right here for now. I just want to,” Hob looks around and pulls on his leather jacket, getting a pocket watch from an inside pocket and Morpheus blinks at it, confused as Hob goes back into his wardrobe, looking at various items and throwing them onto the bed near him. “This one’s definitely you,” Hob mumbles, pulling out a black and frilly shirt, joining the rest of the items, including ripped jeans and some spiky chokers and bracelets.

Staring down at the items, he picks up the shirt, black and flowy as more clothes pile up, silver chains and mesh shirts. “What are these for?”

Hob doesn’t answer, looking through a drawer in his wardrobe to pull more items out, throwing them on the bed. Then, once he looks at the pile, he looks around again, eventually going under his bed to look for something as Morpheus watches in confusion. “These are for you!” Hob chirps once he emerges with a black duffel, artfully ripped to reveal black lining, sides covered with studs as he puts the clothes and jewellery into it.

“You can’t just―” Morpheus protests, eyes wide at the amount.

“Sure I can. Have you seen that?” Hob points at his wardrobe, still overflowing with clothes, “I rarely, or never have worn these anyway. Plus they’ll be there for you to wear!” Morpheus gapes, eyes filling with tears as he swallows back the emotions as the duffel is zipped up and presented to him. “Phone,” Hob makes a grabby motion and Morpheus complies, finding his phone along with pants, which he puts on as Hob puts in his number.

“You can’t be serious,” Morpheus says as he holds onto the duffel, still in disbelief at the weight that’s inside. For him. And outside the bedroom window, he can see the sun starting to come out.

Hob smiles and pulls him in by his pants for a kiss, deep and filthy as a hand returns his phone to his pocket. “Like a grave.”

“This feels like a bit much,” he mutters to himself, even with his normal suit, the normal shined shoes ― and the spiked choker around his neck. For work. He could almost feel his parent’s aneurysm at the thought. “Hob?”

Hob, next to him, gives him a slow, lingering look in between bites of yoghurt and muesli. “Maybe a bracelet too?” Dream shakes his head, which stops as a finger goes under the choker, “working on a Saturday? Really? What kind of Hell do you work at?” Dream tries to reply, but he can only shiver as the finger drags, nail edge pricking into his throat, “no, I know it’s pretty bad, I didn’t need an answer for that.”

Hob’s finger leaves his throat and Dream scrambles his thoughts together as Hob eats more of his breakfast as Dream looks at his watch. “Where do you even work, anyway?” He asks, somehow not catching it with all the time they’ve been spending together. Though, they have mostly been preoccupied.

“Uni teacher,” Hob says with a shrug, and Dream gives him an incredulous look, “I’ll even give you my campus and you can sit on one of my lectures yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“I wasn’t―it’s just very surprising, what with,” he gestures to Hob’s form, which at the moment is only bright pink boxers. “I will, very soon,” he promises, already working out how he can get a free weekday.

“I’m used to it, though I usually tone it down some while at my job. Not that I don’t think there’d be a problem, but it’s usually with the other teacher’s where those kinds of judgments appear, and I’d rather not deal with that,” Hob explains.

Dream is nervous as he walks into work, going through the whole floor of people who work under him, expecting ― gasps, mean comments, but all he can see is some people just doing a double take as he goes into his office. Throughout the day as he emails clients and goes through his day, no comments or nothing, and soon enough he feels comfortable in the choker, fear dwindling and being replaced by an odd sort of confidence.

Throughout the day, he tries to make sense of this new feeling, so alien ― and wondering if Hob was right, and maybe he should’ve worn one of the spiked bracelets that Hob gave him. Or even the new pointed boots he recently bought, black and leather, patterned with skulls and flowers.

He only places the confidence in how happy and sure he looks after Matthew, one of his assistants, goes “nice necklace.” Dream starts, not expecting the compliment, or how pleased it makes him feel. Lucienne, next to Matthew, gives him a look.

“Thank you,” he says with a tiny smile, feeling even more sure of himself as Lucienne raises her eyebrows in shock.

“It does look very good on you,” Lucienne concedes, measures of can we move on in her tone. Matthew gives him a look, which Dream doesn’t react to.

“I know,” he says quietly, the confidence leaving him temporarily. “However, we must discuss next steps for next week.”

“Must we,” Matthew mimics sarcastically, Lucienne ignoring him as she launches into her report.

Morpheus follows the campus signage carefully, checking to make sure it’s right with the message Hob sent him. Matthew gaped at him for half a day after explaining that yes, I will be taking one of those days off earlier in the week.

Matthew started a rumour that maybe their boss got replaced by a pod-person right after.

And now he follows people into the room Hob said he would be teaching at, one of those big lecture rooms with ascending seats. Sitting near the door at the front, he almost doesn’t catch Hob, talking with his TA apparently, gestures wide and facing away from him as the TA grins.

Squinting, Morpheus scrutinises the other’s boots, obviously steel-plated on the front, then pale grey jeans. The leather jacket Hob wears is more red and plain, and from what he can see, the numerous spikes that Hob wore in his ears are replaced by alternating gold and silver studs.

Hob and his TA separate, Hob going up to his desk and putting something on the screen behind him. Now that Hob’s turned around, he sees that the first earring in Hob’s ear is tiny skulls. “We’re ready to begin, it seems!” Hob talks, voice projecting through the room as he stares at the back ― with Morpheus able to tell when the other man spots him by the bright grin, and he gives a small wave.

“Alright! So―” Hob claps his hands as the TA moves to the laptop on the desk, numerous rings clinking together on Hob’s fingers as he launches into his lecture. Tearing his eyes away from the shining jewellery, he stares at the KMFDM t-shirt Hob has on instead, only half-listening as he takes in this Hob, very much toned down from the spikes and metal chains he had on his pants.

It’s as Hob starts talking about 15th Century clothes, Morpheus notices the silver still shining in the other’s mouth, and he tries to not lead his thoughts down the path of Hob’s tongue ring in a public setting.

Before he knows it, the class ends, people leaving and Hob picking up his things, and talking with his TA before sidling up to him. “You’re here!”

Morpheus blinks at the blinding smile, “I did say I would come,” he frowns and Hob’s grin widens as he’s pulled out of his seat.

“I dunno, people say that, but then others don’t, so,” Hob says with a shrug, linking their arms together as they walk down hallways, eventually reaching a door that says Robert Gadling. “Thoughts?” Hob asks as they go into his office, the other man locking the door and putting the blind down.

“I liked the bit about the ruffs,” Morpheus offers. Hob gives him a look, and Morpheus curses his pale skin for the way his face heats as Hob’s hands grab his own.

“Liar. You weren’t paying attention to the lecture,” Hob grins, and he swallows a sound at the warmth of the other’s hand, contrasted with the cold silver and gold of his rings.

Looking down, he focuses on the ring designs, mainly plain. Or a gold one with blue sapphires. “You still have your tongue ring,” he whispers―then gasps, Hob kissing him, a filthy press of said tongue ring to the inside of his mouth, and he can only whine as the kiss ends, arousal swirling hot.

“Too much work to keep it out. Leave it out for half a day and the skin’s already growing over the hole for it, very annoying,” Hob replies, brown of his eyes swallowed by black. The other’s hands make a slow path up his arms, shoulders, neck, one eventually holding his jaw while the other goes into his hair.

Morpheus swallows, cock hardening at Hob’s full attention, at the way fingers stroke his hair, “I see.”

There’s another kiss, sweet and rough, Hob tugging at his lips and he shivers, skin sparking as the hand on his jaw moves to grip the back of his neck as Morpheus holds onto Hob’s leather jacket. He can only whimper as the hand on his neck pulls him down, ending the kiss ― and he can feel Hob’s desk against his head as he stares up. “Morpheus,” the other’s arousal, covered with denim, presses against his jaw, “can you be good and quiet for me?”

“Yes,” he rasps, voice thin and breathy as a finger traces his lips, own dick aching in his pants as he frantically unbuckles the black belt in front of him, unzipping jeans, mouth already watering.

Morpheus scrutinises himself in the mirror. At the pointed black boots, the straight-leg leather pants and long-sleeved dark red shirt, with a lace shirt over it, sleeves flaring out. And on top of that, a harness going around his waist and shoulders, silver spikes on the shoulders. Pursing his lips, Morpheus gives himself a look and searches for his wayward boyfriend, eventually finding Hob on the balcony of his apartment, cigarette in his mouth. “Too much?”

Hob blinks and looks over, eyes raking over him, “of course not,’ Hob shrugs, holding ringed fingers out and Morpheus huffs at the way Hob stares at him.

“It feels a bit,” he bites his lips as Hob finishes his smoke, crushing it beneath his spiked boots before putting it in the bin, “mismatched.”

At this, Hob stands up and twirls him inside the apartment, smelling of smoke as they kiss, “babe, literally most of my friends do that. I’m just more for this style because the other one’s don’t feel as me,” Hob gestures to his leather jacket and black fishnet shirt, along with black jeans that are more rips and slashed, the insides lined with fishnet. “Plus, you look very hot.”

Morpheus rolls his eyes as he considers Hob’s words, putting his hands on Hob’s hips, “you’re very biased.”

Hob nods his head, “biased. But also right,” Hob says with a grin, then pulls out a stick of eyeliner from an inside jacket pocket, and Morpheus follows the other’s directions as it’s placed on him. “Feel you'd like the more pointed eyeliner, but I’m not good at that. Good thing we’re meeting my friend’s, who’d be better with teaching you that,” Hob mutters between applying it.

Eyeliner applied, Morpheus huffs, watching as Hob applies the black liner to his own eyes, the brown of Hob’s eyes becoming more arresting. “Are you sure we can’t stay in for a bit more?” He asks, hands slipping under the other’s mesh shirt, and he makes a happy sound at the feeling of course hair under his fingers.

“Tempting, but no,” Hob says, a hand coming up to his cheek and Morpheus leans into the hand, enjoying the feeling of cold rings and hot skin.

Morpheus pouts as Hob lets go, the hand going to intertwine with his instead.

The double take Hob does when Morpheus emerges from the train bathroom with one of Hob’s friends makes him want to preen, with all of them practically fighting over to teach him how to do a winged look. Hob opens his mouth, “if you’re thinking of leaving just because your boyfriend is hot,” next to him a darker-skinned person dressed in a lace black dress and white fishnet tights, Charlie, threatens and Hob’s mouth clicks shut.

“But Charlie,” Hob gestures to him, hands reaching out to pull him onto the other’s lap, expression shocked and reverent, “look!”

“Dude,” Angel, the one who was teaching him about eyeliner earlier, and dressed in full frilly gothic lolita, complete with pigtails, sits down next to Charlie, “you just got here. Plus, isn’t this the one that bewitched you with his drab clothes before? Is Hob doing this to you?” She asks and Morpheus flushes under the attention, picking at his lace sleeve.

“He’s not forcing me,” he says, “I never wanted to be,” a pause, “drab. And Hob has been invaluable to help me discover what I like,” he mumbles and Hob nods against his chest, arms comfortable around his waist, leather jacket thrown over the back of his chair. Charlie and Angel nod, expressions sympathetic.

“I get that,” Angel twists her hair, black with purple streaks, “well, I’m happy for you!”

Charlie, texting someone on their phone nods and Morpheus relaxes, stretching out on Hob’s lap, and Hob makes a choked noise as he wriggles so he can touch Hob’s thigh through the fishnet of his pants.

Hob whines into his chest, and he tries not to pay attention to the hardness he can feel against him ― because ― well, mainly to make Hob squirm a bit. And because Hob’s friends are interesting, and nice. “I like your friends,” he states and Hob muffles another sound against his chest, something like I’m glad.

Angel shakes her head, “we like you too! Though we’re still missing someone before we go back to that club.”

They barely make it inside Hob’s door before he’s pushed against it, hands going under his shirt as Hob bites into his mouth. Shivering, he takes off Hob’s jacket and gets his own hands under the other’s shirt, bucking into the leg in the middle of his own. “Finally,” Hob hisses against his mouth, and Morpheus gasps at ringed fingers going inside his pants, leather hot and sticky from the club’s heat ― and now, his hard cock which Hob strokes.

“Not even making it to the sofa?” He chokes out, grabbing onto the grey hair at the other’s temples as Hob continues to stroke him, thumb stroking his slit and he groans, head hitting the door. Which makes Hob go for his throat, biting over already healing marks and pressing him more against the wood.

“You were teasing,” Hob accuses, free hand pulling him forward, making him as the other hand traces his hole.

Morpheus whines, leaning into the hand stroking him as the other one leaves, probably to go the lube in Hob’s jeans, “don’t be ridiculous,” he says, batting his lashes and Hob huffs, lubed fingers returning to his hole, one finger slowly making its way in.

Moaning, he can only hold on, grounding against Hob’s fingers, other hand scrabbling for purchase on door behind him as another finger enters him. Hob hums into his throat, stubble scratching the sensitive skin and Morpheus lets out a keen as the hand stroking his cock leaves to grab his hip.

“Now who’s being the te―” his sentence doesn’t finish as Hob lifts him up, eyes black as they stare up at him, and Morpheus can only blink and catch the breath that leaves him as he’s put onto the sofa, layers of boots and clothes being taken off as they kiss, Hob’s fingers going back inside him once they’re both naked.

Holding onto Hob’s hair, he arches into the fingers, insides burning at the way Hob’s fingers, still with their rings on, feel almost inside him, markedly different from the hot-cold way of holding his cock. “Had to restrain myself from fingering you in front of the club,” Hob states and Morpheus shivers, the image too much for him to think on, cock twitching.

Morpheus can only keen, holding onto Hob’s shoulder, mind shorting out as Hob continues, fingers being added and pressing insistently upon his prostate, “come on, I’ve been wanting you like this forever it seems like,” Hob mutters into his cheek.

The pleasure, the pressure is constant and maddening and Morpheus cries out, tears eventually streaming out of his eyes, and he can almost the carefully applied eyeliner start to run.

“There we go, so beautiful and wrecked,” Hob praises, fingers crooking and twisting incessantly, and his orgasm seems to almost come second to the pleasure, the feel of rings he can feel, to Hob’s quiet praise.

Morpheus is staring at the invoices he needs to look over in his email when it hits him.

I want to quit, he thinks with intent, because this job was yet another thing his parent’s herded, moulded him into, because it’s good money and a respectable job, when Morpheus ― can’t even remember what he does, the only bright spots at work being Lucienne and Matthew. Every day as droll as the wardrobe he’s been getting rid of, only keeping at least one suit and one pair of black pants and shirt as he fills his wardrobe with things he wants to wear.

Of course, there’s always the logistics of quitting to consider too, especially with the recent amount of the money being used to buy pretty clothes, and what he would do after, but he feels confident in knowing what he wants now, though working towards this may be more of a choice then what shirts to get.

“You okay there, boss?” Matthew asks, putting a cup of black coffee near his hand, and he nods distantly.

“If I did something crazy, would you and Lucienne follow me?” The words tumble out and Morpheus can’t find it to regret them as Matthew considers, scratching his chin.

“Just say the word, boss-man,” Matthe settles on, giving him a two-fingered salute.

“I… just thought of it, so I may need more thinking over,” he pauses, frowning. “Perhaps you and Lucienne can help,” Matthew grins and Morpheus scoffs, taking a gulp of the hot coffee. “Not right now, but eventually.”

“Fuck yeah! Consider it done!”

A month later and Morpheus once again stares at himself in the mirror, this time focusing on doing the winged eyeliner that Angel’s constantly gave him tips for. There’s a groan as Hob shambled in from bed, chest pressing against his back as arms go around his waist. “Fancy,” Hob says, voice thick and dark with sleep and Morpheus swallows, letting Hob nibble at his neck and collarbones as Hob’s hands go up the V of the shirt, frilly and flowing.

“I’m quitting,” he announces ― and that makes Hob’s head snap up, blinking awake.

“Fuck. Really?” Hob gapes, settling back onto his shoulder as he nods, Hob squeezing him tightly as he stares at his black pants, red ribbon running up the sides of it.

“I’ve already worked things out with Lucienne and Matthew for something new that we’re going to do, with artists and ― still figuring out the logistics, but it’ll be fun.”

Hob sighs and there’s a nip to his ear as they sway slightly, which Morpheus swats to stop, since he still has to do his other eye. “Look at you, getting so confident and sure of yourself. Hope you don’t forget the plebes like me once you become a famous auteur or whatever.”

“Don’t be absurd. This is all because of you,” he says, brows furrowing as he precisely does his other eye, then puts the eyeliner into the black coat hanging nearby before turning around to face Hob, who looks amazed. “You helped me figure out what I want,” he breathes, cupping the other’s face, thumbs caressing brown-grey stubble gently. “And you’re a part of that.”

Hob’s eyes are wide and shiny, a sound wrenched out of him as they kiss, which Morpheus easily falls into, and he shivers at the hands going up under his shirt, scratching up his back roughly that he’s sure he’ll feel it while at the last day of his job.

“Pick me up once I text you?” Hob should be clear all day, considering it’s a Saturday.

“You don’t need to wait around, Matthew,” he says quietly as they rest on the glass wall of their former workplace. Matthew scoffs.

“I’ve only heard like, two things about this boyfriend of yours, of course I’m gonna see what this guy’s like,” Matthew scowls. Morpheus huffs and looks at the omw ;) from Hob, smiling at the text. “If he gets you to look like that at your phone, he’s gotta be something.”

“He is,” he says, and there’s only silence between them, people and cars moving around them.

“Shame Luce won’t see this, maybe I’ll,” Matthew gets out his own phone and Morpheus rolls his eyes, looking for any sign of Hob’s car.

A motorbike parks in front of the building, which he doesn’t pay any attention to ― until the helmet of the driver comes off, and Morpheus takes a moment, not recognising Hob. Gaping, his mind stutters at the sight as Hob turns off the bike, taking his helmet off and putting it on the handlebars, black fingerless gloves poking out as Hob gives a small wave and a smile.

“That’s him?!” Matthew screeches, but Morpheus doesn’t pay attention, insides hot at the sight of Hob straddling the bike as he walks closer in a daze, Matthew following behind, talking and gesturing to his phone.

“You have a bike?” He croaks, and Hob grins, putting an arm on the handlebars, other hand coming to pull him in by his coat, kiss filthy and indecent for such a public area, and Morpheus resists the urge to just―”how?”

“It’s been in the shop for a while,” Hob says, pierced tongue licking the top of his mouth and he swallows a whine. Blinking, Morpheus rests his heated face on the leather of Hob’s shoulder, feeling him turn his head, with his free hand going around his waist. “And who’s this?”

“Yo, hi, uh, I’m Matthew, man, dude,” Matthew babbles and Morpheus groans, feeling Hob’s grin in the way he’s holding himself.

“Matthew! Nice to meet you finally! I’m Robert Gadling, but you can just call me Hob. I hear you’ve been keeping this one here sane while at that hellhole.”

Matthew squeaks, “that’s news to me ― good news, but I’m glad! Boss man here has gotten out of his shell lately and y’know―”

Morpheus groans and straightens up, “we have to go Hob, now,” both Hob and Matthew open their mouths, “I will give you Matthew’s number so you can talk, but we must leave. Now,” he reiterates through gritted teeth. Mainly because Hob on a motorbike ― and the combined chatter of his boyfriend and Matthew would make it a week before they’d leave the front of his old work.

Hob gives a what can you do? expression to Matthew, who laughs as Hob pulls out another helmet from the motorbike seat behind him. Hob gives him a kiss as the helmet is put on him, hands framing his face before the lock slides into place under his chin. “The boss has spoken,” Hob says, eyebrows wiggling as he sits behind Hob, feeling the other’s arm move as he puts on his own helmet. “Ready?”

“Of course,” he scowls as squeezes Hob tighter, Matthew ― still with his phone in front of him, probably recording this for Lucienne ― waves at them as Hob starts the bike, vibrations as hot and pleasant as Hob in front of him as they leave.

As soon as the rumble of the bike stops, their helmets taken off and stowed away, Morpheus corners Hob against the bike, kissing him deeply, hands going up to touch the stubble of the other’s face. “Knew you’d like it,” Hob breathes between them, the kickstand of the bike flipping to balance the bike as Morpheus pushes him more onto it.

Hob chuckles breathily as he nibbles down the other’s neck, the sweat and and musk delicious and salty as his hands go under Hob’s shirt, trailing up chest hair until he flicks at pierced nipples. Hob groans, arching into him as they rut into each other, the pleasure fizzling inside.

There’s more laughter ― than Hob pushes him away, which Morpheus whines at, grabbing onto Hob’s jeans as he goes in for another kiss. “Alright, I’m not doing this in the car park,” Hob says and Morpheus scowls, Hob grabbing his coat to pull them inside the apartment complex. Considering the stairways up to Hob’s flat, he manages to push Hob against the walls for more kissing and petting as they make their way.

“You didn’t tell me you have a motorbike,” he accuses as they get into Hob’s flat, and Morpheus holds back his desire until they reach Hob’s room, the messiness familiar as pushes his boyfriend onto the bed.

Hob grins, settling under him, “I wanted to surprise you.” Groaning, Morpheus leans down, hands scratching through soft black hair as Hob shivers under him. “Especially with your surprise announcement today, and how sexy you are,” Hob’s hands go under the V of his shirt.

“Consider me surprised,” he pouts as he takes off Hob’s jacket and shirt, biting down the other’s neck until he can lick at the silver nipple rings, causing Hob to whine and shudder.

“And really hot for it,” Hob says between moans, eyes sparkling as he glares up at him, mind too full of the motorbike he could feel under him, Hob’s body a solid heat to hold onto as he tugs off his clothes and the other’s belt and leather pants, though he grumbles as he unzips the leather boots keeping them from fully coming off.

Hob laughs, eyes bright as Dream leans in to kiss him deeply, brain replaying the rumble of the engine under him, biting at Hob’s tongue ring as he pushes Hob’s legs together, hard cock jutting up as Hob gasps. Morpheus stares at the crease between Hob’s legs, the body hair as he guides his own red cock to the crease, feeling Hob’s fingers dig into his hips, scratching around as they end up digging into his arse.

There’s a whine from Hob as his cock fucks the channel between the other’s thighs, coarse hair getting wet from the pre-come. “Yes, right there,” Hob moans, moving slightly to meet his cock, his nails digging into Hob’s thigh as they share a messy kiss. “Come on,” Hob whispers, dark eyes staring into him and it only takes a few more thrusts until Morpheus orgasms with a shiver, white come coating Hob’s thighs, all the way up to his chest.

Gasping, he brings a hand around the other’s cock, thick and twitching as he strokes it, unable to look away as one of Hob’s joins his. The other’s black fingerless gloves getting wet and sticky as they jerk Hob off to completion, arching into their joined hands as Hob lets out a strangled whine, more come joining the mess on Hob’s chest.

Morpheus wasn’t sure about what brought him to this club specifically, aside from the banality of his job. His life. Another late night and the club’s neon sight lit up The White Horse, which he’s seen on the way home, people in various leather and gothic outfits out the front.

“Whiskey shot, cheap. Please,” a voice says next to him and Morpheus turns, seeing a man in a leather jacket and ripped jeans, chains on the side of them. The man looks at him, eyes dark brown ― and lined, making them even more and Morpheus looks away in shock. “And another, for this one,” the man says and Morpheus gapes as a shot gets put in front of him.

“That’s not necessary,” he watches as the man leans on the bar and downs his shot, insides burning even without the alcohol as the man looks at him.

“Have you seen yourself? It’s necessary,” the man leans in, a hot line at his side and Morpheus tries not to blush too easily ― though, knowing his skin, it’s very obvious as the man puts the shot into his hand, callused fingers brushing against his and Morpheus swallows, licking his lips as he sees black fingerless gloves on the other man. “How’d they let you in anyway?”

“I am not sure,” he replies and the man giggles, face close enough and smelling of whiskey that Morpheus leans away to down his shot, brain stuttering at the touches, at how he can see grey in the man’s beard and temples. “I wanted something different from,” he blurts, putting his tingling fingers into his pants pockets so he doesn’t reach out to see if the man’s beard is as soft as it looks. “My life.”

The man nods, leaning against his arm and Morpheus tries not to squirm as the man stares at him, tilting his head. “If you want to do something different, then go all out,” the man smirks, leaning closer to him ― and Morpheus feels even hotter as the man obviously stares at lips ― then raises an eyebrow almost in challenge.

[Fin]

#dc #the sandman #dreamling #dreamling fanfic #dream x hob #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #dreamling week #dreamling week 2024 #writing #not sfw #feat goth hob!#and a dream so repressed he's not even goth 😱#he gets better though #very indulgent to me. a goth

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veinsfullofstars · 9 months ago

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✨ May I interest you in some Dedede and Meta Knight as childhood friends? ✨

(ID: Kirby series fanart of King Dedede and Meta Knight reimagined as kids, interacting in various cute and wholesome scenarios such as coloring, cloud-watching, sparring with sticks, overindulging on sweets, protecting each other from bullies, and more. Design-wise, young Dedede is short and chubby with a smaller beak and three feathers sticking up from the top of his head. He wears a pair of red overalls with gold buttons on the straps and a pocket on the front with a white two-finger peace sign. Young Meta Knight is maskless and similar in appearance to Kirby, save for his yellow eyes, dark-blue complexion, and a pair of tiny wings on his back. Additional headcanons and worldbuilding for this AU under the cut. END ID.)

(AU info updated as of 11/02/24.)

Started on 10/09/23, finished on 10/11/23, updated 03/11/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 10/11/23. | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

—

-This AU primarily takes place within the Kirby gameverse (with a few superficial elements borrowed from external media), the timeline starting many, many decades before the events of Kirby's Dream Land, eventually catching up to and following the main games’ canon (with nods to side games and some unique events added here and there for character flavor). I am trying to stay canon-compliant, but I’m also making things up as I go and changing them as needed, so no promises I won’t just go completely off the rails the more I workshop things, haha.

-I'm leaving ages nebulous in this AU (both because the series itself doesn't really give characters canonical ages and to keep the timeline a bit looser narratively), but - for clarity's sake - we'll say Dedede and Meta are both the equivalent of 7-to-11 years old here, though they first met a little earlier...

-Meta Knight is just called Meta for now - he won’t earn his title until after he starts his overstars military training with the Galaxy Soldier Army (GSA) in his late teens.

-That hammer belongs to Dedede’s mama - a former pro-wrestler - and will someday be passed down to him (once he’s strong enough to actually pick it up).

-In this AU, the GSA is an intergalactic military group fighting various malignant forces across the universe, their reputation generally positive thanks to a genuine effort on their part to balance acts of war and defense with acts of philanthropy, relief aid, and compassion, well-known enough to reach even distant Popstar. Most known Star Warriors - Sir Dragato, Kit Cosmos, Yamikage, etc. - are either long since passed on or retired somewhere outside of the story (with a few exceptions we may learn about later...). Though really more for background flavor and worldbuilding, the GSA becomes a crucial element to Meta's storyline later down the line, since - upon learning of them in his youth - he becomes enamored with their deeds and longs to be a knight himself (not yet aware of the hardships involved in becoming one).

-The kids like to spar and roughouse in their free time, but they sometimes get proper training from Dedede’s papa - a retired knight himself with connections to the GSA, who’d settled in Dream Land with his wife just before they had their only son. Meta looks up to him with the same admiration he has for the Star Warriors while Dedede doesn’t always see eye-to-eye with his well-meaning but strict father.

-In his early years, Meta is quite shy around people he doesn’t know well. In overwhelming situations, he tends to either shut down and go non-verbal or quietly slip away to recoup. That said, he is much more expressive around those he trusts, listening eagerly and chatting far more than he would otherwise. He also has a bit of an anger streak hidden just under all that resolve, though it takes a lot of prodding to bring it out...

-As a kid, Dedede is impulsive to a fault and likes to make wild plans that often put him and his buddies in precarious situations (when he actually follows through with them, that is). Meta is often the first to point out the flaws in said plans (if Para Dee doesn’t do it first) but inevitably ends up tagging along anyway, his wariness easily overturned by his curiosity.

-Despite the generally welcoming nature of the village, Meta still faces some measure of bullying due to his strange appearance and timid nature. Usually, he waits it out until either his tormentors get bored or Dedede steps in to defend him, but - as the taunts persist and his temper grows - it's only matter of time before he's the one getting into scraps rather than his bigger buddy...

#veins art #veins fanart #kirby series #kirby #king dedede #meta knight #star warriors #AU #childhood friends au #friendship #technically pre-relationship #but I'm gonna keep the tags platonic for now since they're still kids here #no weird gooey feelings yet #just a pair of good buds who really believe in each other #veinsfullofstars

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aftercamlann · 1 year ago

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ACBB 2023 MASTERPOST

Thank you to all our wonderful writers, artists, beta readers and hype readers who participated in this years After Camlann Big Bang! We hope you will consider participating again this year!

Below is the final masterlist for After Camlann 2023:

*** Title: This Remarkable Season Author: s0mmerspr0ssen Artist: PapySanzo89 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, side: Leon/Morgana, Gwen/Lancelot, Gwaine/Percival, (temporary) Cenred/Merlin, surprise/minor pairings Rating: Explicit Word count: 79,313 Summary: Arthur Pendragon, Crown Prince of Camelot, must marry. King Uther expects him to choose a high-ranking noble, preferably a lady, from amongst the Camelot ton. But as fate would have it, the Prince finds himself drawn to Mr Merlin Emrys, an obscure gentleman from the countryside. Merlin, impoverished and desperate to save his family from complete ruin, must marry, too. Feelings are secondary, for the match must be an advantageous one. Soon, both Arthur and Merlin are caught between the pressure of expectations and what their hearts truly desire…

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: The Chough's Call Author: Aro_Tarot Artist: Winnett Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Mordred/Daegal Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 85,861 Summary: When Arthur went back to his hometown to find his missing sister, he wasn’t sure what he would find. He simply hoped that there would be some clue that would lead him to her. A clue, he did find, but instead of pointing him in a direction, it led to him being knocked out and waking up in a different world, one with magic.

Taken, rescued, and now staying in a refugee sanctuary, Arthur was now not just searching for his sister but also the figure known in history and legend as the Once and Future King. As he works as an assistant to a sorcerer named Merlin, befriends a group of knights, and is accompanied with his childhood figurine turned living chough, Arthur starts to question if he would want to go home after all of this is over. Of course, that is only if the others and him can survive the prophecy, the return of the ancient evil known as the Ivory, and if Emrys can fulfill his part by finding the Once and Future King.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: I hear that deserts heal your history Author: Celaenos Artist: gramnel Pairings/Characters: Morgana & Arthur, Merlin/Morgana, Arthur/Merlin Rating: Mature Word count: 68,355 Summary: Morgana pushes herself up slowly, looking around. She is in the backseat of a car, in what looks like a vast and empty desert, pulled off against the side of a highway. No cars, no people anywhere that she can see. A blonde woman is sleeping in the front passenger seat. Morgana stares at her, confusion overwhelming, even as the dawning horror builds the longer that Morgana studies her features. The sharp edges are there: the tilt of her chin, the shape of her nose, the way that her mouth opens just slightly—it’s all there plain as day, and Morgana feels faint. Furious. Terrified. Why now, after all this time?

She crawls over, flinging open the backseat and vomits down into the dirt.

In the front seat of the Cadillac, the reincarnation of her brother wakes with a start.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Flicker Of A Candlelight, Heat Of An Inferno Author: lavender_spice Artist: MerlinLikeTheBird Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Gwen/Morgana Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 93,168 Summary: When Merlin gets injured on a hunting trip, Arthur is forced to face his true feelings for his stubbornly loyal manservant. Merlin is everything he should not want, and yet Arthur struggles to keep his feelings at bay.

On top of all this, after learning of his father's lies and hypocrisy, Arthur hatches a plan to put an end to his people's suffering once and for all, finding unlikely allies along the way.

Can the two boys intertwined by destiny navigate their relationship amongst betrayal, secrecy, and a near-impossible mission?

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Charlatans and Ruffians Author: thenerdyindividual Artist: kairennart Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Gwaine/Merlin Rating: Mature Word count: 84,980 Summary: Merlin and Gwaine spend their days bopping around kingdoms, performing for the masses in exchange for petty coin. Sometimes they perform for room and board. When they perform at a tavern, the tavern owner gives Merlin a ring for payment, everything changes. Turns out the ring was haunted by the ghost of Queen Ygraine Pendragon. Now Ygraine is threatening to haunt Merlin for the rest of his life if he doesn't travel to Camelot to protect her son Arthur.

He goes to Camelot, and it turns out that Arthur is a huge pain in the ass. But he's also kind and does his best for his people, and that has Merlin and Gwaine falling for him.

If only Merlin didn't have to contend with a genocidal king and political plot involving the Kingdom of Magic.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: till our souls catch us up Author: EachPeachPearPlum Artist: griffonskies Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin (Merlin), Morgana (Merlin), Gwaine (Merlin), Lancelot (Merlin), Percival (Merlin), Leon (Merlin), Elyan (Merlin), Gwen (Merlin), Mordred (Merlin), Freya (Merlin), Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Morgause (Merlin), Nimueh (Merlin) Rating: Mature Word count: 47,641 Summary: "Everyone but Uther Pendragon will be allowed to live," the voice says, echoing through Arthur's bones, the raw power of it terrifying beyond anything he’s ever felt, and he knows that even if the owner of the voice can be trusted to spare his citizens, the offer of sanctuary does not extend to him.

Or: When Camelot falls to an army of sorcerers, Arthur expects to follow his father to the pyre. Instead, he’s surprised when the new king spares his life, although he’s not entirely sure death wouldn’t have been better than spending the rest of his days locked in his room, waiting for Emrys to get bored of having him around.

What follows is a tale of murder attempts, evil schemes, and a mysterious prophecy.

And destiny, of course.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: In A Land Of Snarky Dragons Author & Artist: BGN846 (bgn_846) Pairings/Characters: Merlin & Arthur Rating: Teen and Up Word count: Word Count: 48,369 Summary: Merlin is living the best life, learning how to raise dragons from his dragonlord father, Balinor, on their farm. This teenager has not a care in the world (magic is legal) until the local druids pay a visit. Merlin is not happy to discover he has a destiny featuring another person he’s never met. Once and future king his arse, not on his farm. Ignoring the prophecy with the mystery no named future king, Merlin tries to pretend everything is fine.

However, one giant, scaled, slightly bored troublemaker named, Kilgharrah, decides that this prophecy of destiny and kings is the perfect adventure to get his blood pumping. So the great dragon does what he does best, and proceeds to stir the proverbial pot.

Cue, kidnappings, rescues, attempted coups, and a fair amount of dragons all to keep destiny on track.

Story and Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: it’s a fated thing Author: fabledfrog Artist: a_star_is_here Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon - Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Gwen, Morgana Pendragon, the Knights of the Roundtable, OCs Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 34,848 Summary: Merlin has a good life. He sleeps in the royal bed, sits on the king's right, uses magic out in the open, free and never again hidden.

He likes the first bit, is tired of the second, and is still awed by the last.

When he first told Arthur, he hadn't expected them to work together to destroy the destinies that had been written since the dawn of time; he hadn't thought that they would be able to change their path so drastically that everything would be different.

He hadn't even realised it, when all had been said and done. He'd only learned the truth of what they had done when he had gone to the Crystal Caves and they had shown him what his life could have been.

He'd thought they were safe from it; the cruel fate that had awaited them was averted.

Only, not everyone was happy with that.

In which Merlin's magic is used to create problems for the future. Or the past. All time in general.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: We Are Made for Flying Author: remaymber Artist: CaughtInTheRa1n Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, side: Morgana/Leon, Gwen/Lance, Percival/Gwaine, Freya, Hunith, Uther Rating: Mature Word count: 62,114 Summary: When Arthur sees Merlin for the first time at Camelot circus, he knows he is doomed. What makes his fate even worse is that Merlin seems dead set on hating him. But as destiny wants it, they find they need each other to solve the mystery that is Uther Pendragon to protect Camelot. As time passes and slowly the questions asked turn into answers with grave consequences, the final question remains: Do opposites attract, or will their differences be insurmountable after all?

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) Author: salamandair Artist: Stelle Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word count: 30,490 Summary: Seven years ago, Merlin and Arthur were engaged to be married. They were happy, in love and had plans to create a better future

Seven years ago, Arthur’s world was turned upside down and the lovers broke off their engagement.

Seven years later, Arthur Pendragon is now Albion’s youngest Prime Minister in history and hates anything to do with magic.

Seven Years later, Merlin Wyvern is now the leader of a rights group fighting for equal rights for magic users.

Now, their separate worlds collide as a decades-long fight finally comes to a head to change Albion forever.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Nerdboy and the Incredible Prat Author: bad_peppermint Artist: paintedpigeon Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 34,828 Summary: The guy Merlin keeps running into at Comic-Con, wearing matching cosplay, just might be his soulmate. Too bad he’s kind of an asshole.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: The Reluctant Prince Author: Cookie Artist: Schweet_heart Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word count: 33,900 Summary: Arthur has never really wanted to be a prince, and the thought of being king in the future fills him with dread. But that is his destiny and not even falling in love with a stage magician called Merlin can change that.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Out of the Dark (Into the Light) Author: MyKingdomComeUndone Artist: Profiad Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana, Gaius, Gwen, Lancelot, Mordred, Will, Sophia, Edwin, Valiant, Anhora Rating: Explicit Word count: 40,894 Summary: Instead of participating in a deadly drinking game by the sea to save Camelot from unicorn-related famine, Arthur finds himself in a cave, along with a bunch of total strangers. The catch? The only thing each of them remembers is their own name. Before panic can truly set in, an old man with a staff appears out of thin air to tell them it’s all part of a test: only the first of them to reach the exit will be permitted to leave. The others won’t be so lucky…

The quest sounds straightforward enough, but on the way, Arthur and his fellow amnesiacs are faced with wicked traps, dangerous creatures, and some threats that may even come from within their group. And as if that’s not enough trouble to face without his memories to guide him, Arthur also has to deal with his increasingly distracting feelings for a certain dark-haired sorcerer among their group, going by the name of ‘Merlin’…

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: A Smooth Sea Never Made A Skilled Pirate Author: Pearl09 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, Merlin, Arthur, Leon, Gwaine, Lancelot, Uther Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 41,752 Summary: Arthur grew up in Camelot, next to the sea. However, he was never allowed out on the water. As the one thing out of his reach, it was the one place he yearned to be—even just to briefly experience the open ocean. When he finally decides to take his life in his own hands and hears rumors of a pirate ship nearby that might let him on board and out of the city, he has no idea what is really in store for him.

Story is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Chase the Sun Author: MerlinLikeTheBird Artist: wortvermis Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Morgana, Gwen, Gwaine, Leon, Freya Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 27,572 Summary: “We lived together before and we both survived, didn’t we?” Arthur doesn’t take the bait.

“Barely,” Merlin answers, picturing their uni days. The first taste of living with anyone other than his mother or sleepovers with Will. It all made for strange, dreamlike memories, for all that it has only been a few years past.

He feels like a very old twenty five most times. He shouldn’t be this age and so tired.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Take Me Up (cast me away) Author: sacredraisincakes Artist: Athena Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Explicit Word count: 58,975 Summary: In an effort to ease tensions between the kingdoms of Albion, Arthur plans a summit to bring together each of the monarchs to create a treaty between them. But schemes from within his own kingdom force him to change his plans ever so slightly.

"No one will believe us."

"They will... We'll start now, and over the next few weeks make it more and more obvious, until the moment we announce our engagement... Then once our visitors are gone, we simply end the betrothal. Everything goes back to the way it was."Edits for the main houses of sparringett's epic Merlin/GoT crossover fic (to be posted later, hopefully).

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: I Don't Know How to Start Author: thetreeofwillow Artist: Shadow_Hole Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur. Other characters: Gwen, Gaius, Morgana Rating: Mature Word count: 38,605 Summary: When Merlin collapses in a long forgotten hallway, Arthur has to fight for his life.

With Camelot still sitting on the edge of destruction following the dragon’s attack, Arthur should be preoccupied with reconstruction and resource management. Instead, Merlin has taken ill, and for some reason, Arthur can’t keep his mind off him.

What is Arthur to do with his kingdom in tatters, his whole world view shifting and his closest relationships rocking closely held beliefs? How is he to handle this while being drawn ever closer to Merlin? Merlin, whose condition is worsening by the day.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Sacrificing All Within Me, To Save Us Author: LadyDanielle Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon Rating: Explicit Word count: 55,286 Summary: In his second year as King of Camelot, Arthur has legalized magic and prospered the kingdom with Merlin's guidance. But rumors spread that Arthur is just a puppet under Merlin's control. Arthur begins to doubt himself - maybe he’s depending too much on Merlin's ideas instead of his own judgment. How can he push past expectations to rule as he chooses, including taking Merlin as his consort openly if he can’t rely on his own decisions.

To prove himself, Arthur makes a risky choice that could be the fall of Camelot. He decides to find out the hard way.

Story is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Fate has made you so Author: slantedknitting Artist: LFB72 Pairings/Characters: Arthur/Merlin, Arthur/Elena Rating: Explicit Word count: 29,351 Summary: It’s 1953, and Arthur is a young, up-and-coming architect working on rebuilding London. All he wants is to be successful and live his life in peace and quiet. All his boss wants is to find a good match for his daughter Elena, and he thinks he’s found that match in Arthur. Arthur agrees to go out with her to get ahead at the firm, but the person he’s really interested in is her friend Merlin, and it turns out Elena has her own purposes for being with Arthur.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Contact High Author: Leandra Artist: Papysanzo Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Explicit Word count: 84,292 Summary: After a toxic relationship, Arthur is afraid of getting hurt again, but then he meets Gwen, a scriptwriter he collaborates with in one of his film classes. To win her heart, he plans to cook her the best vegan food she has ever had. The idea would be brilliant, but Arthur is neither vegan, nor can he cook. In a desperate move, he enlists the help of Merlin, the obnoxious barista who works at his favourite coffee shop by day, and is a vegan food vlogger by night.

With his past as a young offender, and a history of addiction, Merlin can’t find a job as a chef, and his dream of opening his own restaurant someday seems unreachable. He pours all his passion into his food videos, but while his recipes and personality have what it takes, his video making skills are subpar at best.

Arthur and Merlin put their animosity aside and strike a deal: Merlin will cook for Gwen, and Arthur will claim he made the food, while in exchange, Arthur will help Merlin make better food videos. It seems the perfect way to meet everyone's needs …

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Where Gods Go Artist: mirayladraws Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Mature Word count: N/A - Art Summary: When Arthur Pendragon gets read in on the Animus project, the last thing he expects is to fall in love and get pulled into a war between Assassins and Templars.

Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Dave Author: Camelittle Artist: LFB72 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, side Gwen/Lancelot, side Morgana/Gwaine/Leon, early Merlin/Will, Various UK Panel Show Hosts, OCs, Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 60,342 Summary: Merlin - lover of crunchy fried snacks and secret admirer of his straight flat mate, Arthur - never expected to have a career in comedy. But after trying stand-up on a successful open mic night at university, he finds himself hooked. He and Arthur run a successful late night talk radio for a show for a while, but Arthur’s father intervenes. After a misunderstanding forces them into conflict, Merlin vows never to see Arthur again, to protect his own soft, pathetic, pining heart. Which would be fine, if the UK comedy circuit weren’t so small. But for some reason, they keep bumping into one another - at comedy festivals, and on radio and TV panel shows - and despite everything, the chemistry that made their radio show so popular in the distant past grows stronger than ever.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Reluctantly in Love Author: chaosgenes Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon, minor Lancelot/Guinevere Rating: Explicit Word count: 29,923 Summary: Arthur has waited for Naming Day all his life, but could not be more disappointed when he finds out who the Soul Stone names for him. It isn’t the prisoner he meets in the dungeons, but his heart aches for him anyway.

Merlin has never thought about soulmates until they come knocking at his door in Ealdor. Convinced that there’s something wrong with the Soul Stone, he travels to magic-banned Camelot to end its influence. He never thought that he would be enraptured by the crown prince who comes to interrogate him.

Story and Art are here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: Of Oaths Made and Broken Author: Zorbo_Jorks Artist: aueth Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Gwaine/Mithian, Elena/Vivian, ft. The Knights, Gwen, Uther, and Morgause Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 48,323 Summary: Kilgwan just smiled— a gleeful presentation of far too many jagged teeth. He leaned forward on his throne and sang, “When the five of you I last did see, five promises you made to me! Three promises are broken now— one yet to test and one still sound.”

Arthur growled, and Morgana made a similar noise beside him.

“Are you serious?” she asked, “That was years ago!”

“A word given is a word to keep,” the creature sang back, ignoring the table’s shouts of dismay, “You sow lost words— dark gifts you reap.”

--------------

As children, Arthur, Morgana, Gwen, Elyan, and Leon made vows to a creature named Kilgwan in the catacombs of Camelot.

Years later, on the even of Arthur's prospective betrothal, they are whisked away to make ammends for breaking them. Merlin and Gwaine must make up for the prince's sudden absence by disguising the latter as Arthur to court Princesses Mithian, Vivian, and Elena in his place, all while Merlin tries to find Arthur and his friends before any ill befalls them.

Amid this, Morgause schemes to kill the Pendragons and Merlin pines for his prince, convinced his love cannot be.

It takes very little for the delicate web of problems to fall into chaos.

Story and Art are here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: All Winding Paths Lead Back Author: Imagined Artist: feuxx Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Teen and Up Word count: 76,250 Summary: “You’ll give me magical training?” Merlin asks.

Arthur smiles. “Yes, and training in courtly etiquette. I imagine Ealdor doesn’t have nobles?”

“We don’t have nobles, but we do have pigs. And chickens,” Merlin says. When Arthur raises his eyebrows at him, Merlin flushes heavily with embarrassment. “Oh, shut up. My lord.”

“Don’t talk to your king like that,” Arthur says, but he doesn’t actually seem very upset about it, even though Merlin sort of wants to hit himself in the face. “Welcome to Camelot, sorcerer-apprentice Merlin of Ealdor.”

Or: Merlin is sixteen when he comes to Camelot, vying for the new position of court sorcerer that has opened under King Arthur—a noble king, golden and lionhearted, who is trying to legalise magic in all of Albion. Of course, Merlin doesn't expect to be chosen.

But he is.

Story is here | Art is here | Reblog on Tumblr here *** Title: And All the Bells Were Ringing (ARTWORK) Artist: SerpentineWizard12 Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur Rating: Explicit Word count: N/A - Art Summary: “When he grew tired of swimming, Arthur waded out onto the bank and flung himself down without self-consciousness, lying back on his elbows between the roots of the nearest tree. Merlin lingered in the water for some minutes longer, watching the prince’s movements out of the corner of his eye, the way the water collected in the dips and hollows of his body and threatened to run all the way down. There was something unguarded about Arthur when he was like this; Merlin could think of only a handful of moments in which he had seen the prince without his veneer of distance and authority, and each one stood out in his memory like keys to a puzzle box, unravelling the complexity of Arthur’s personality one layer at a time.

Story is here | Reblog on Tumblr here

#after camlann big bang #acbb #acbb 2023 #bbc merlin #merlin fanfic #merlin fanart

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redflagshipwriter · 9 months ago

Text

Reassembly 2

link to first post

Masterpost

(the one where Peter Parker wakes up post-snap in a LoA lazarus experiment)

It was New York City. Peter thanked his blessings and the transportation gods. He didn't wait for the train to stop because he was kind of afraid that it wouldn't and he'd get carried somewhere else.

If he'd been a regular teen, it would have been like, super dangerous to jump off of the top of a moving train and land on cement. Peter rolled like he'd been taught and came up safe. He shook his wrists a little as he straightened and tried to figure out where he was exactly.

Okay. Operation solo hero was a go. Here he was, in NYC. He didn't have any help. But he was Spiderman. Peter tried not to feel discouraged about losing all his tech, his friends, and his mentors. He could remake his web shooters and a suit. He needed access to materials, but he could do it. His first formula had been made in a school lab.

'But I wasn't homeless and undocumented then.'

Oof, that felt bad.

'Can I even keep my name? I can't exactly go to Midtown and tell them to make Peter Parker plural.'

Yikes. That was a whole lot of yikes.

Well. One problem at a time, right? He needed to get himself into a more stable position for survival first. Now that he knew where he was, he could change his strategy from calling for help to becoming self-sufficient.

He wasn't exactly sure what to do. The first thing that came to mind was that he needed more clothes. Even if he had liked this outfit, he definitely needed more than one set. This was gross. And honestly? He was kinda cold. And he was increasingly uncomfortable about not wearing underwear.

'I don't have any money and I can't borrow some. I can't steal from anyone. What can I do?'

Peter racked his brains. Go through the donation bins for a thrift store? That seemed wrong. But … stores throw things away.

'Department stores get new things all the time. They must be throwing away old clothes. If I check their dumpsters, I bet I'll find something.'

With a plan in mind, Peter made his way to the closest big store he knew about. Even though he was stranded, at least he was in his city. New York City was way more comforting than Metropolis had been. He navigated by memory to a store he knew called-

Huh. The store was where he thought it would be, but it had a different name. Peter quietly read it aloud, wondering if this place would have the same bland, safe fashion as where he'd meant to go.

Well. There was only one way to find out, and it wasn't by going inside. They were locked up for the night anyway.

He found the dumpsters. Peter braced himself for a moment, taking a deep breath.

He didn't feel good about this. He didn't. Not morally- if it had been thrown away, it didn't belong to anyone– but looking at the outside of a dumpster really hammered in the desperation he was in. He was poor. He had nothing and he had no one.

Peter shook that off. "That's not true," he told himself. Hearing a human voice, even his own, helped a bit. "I have a great sense of humor and a positive outlook."

Still, uh, he was ready for a lifestyle that included underwear. He carefully lifted the lid and rested it against the wall so that it didn't make any noise. Then he hopped up onto the rim and squinted into the bin.

There were big plastic bags full of fabric. His first impulse was to tear them open and look, but he refrained. It would make a mess for the garbage workers. Instead he painstakingly untied the string at the top and opened a bag. Then he pulled clothes out one piece at a time and examined them.

His heart fell. He'd been right. These were all perfectly good, unused clothes with the tags still on them, so he could even sort by size. But someone had taken scissors to them all before throwing them out. Peter held up a t shirt and squinted at it. It wasn't that bad, really. They hadn't been super thorough. This one had kind of a snip through the middle.

…it wasn't like he didn't know how to sew. He'd done lots of repairs that way, and even made a Halloween costume one year.

If he just stitched that up it would be kinda obviously repaired. That was okay, but Peter dug around until he found another T shirt in a different color. It was hard to tell in the darkness but he was pretty sure it was blue. It had a similar cut.

"Okay," he planned aloud. "I cut them fully apart, even out the edge, and then sew them together so it looks like being bi colored is a fashion decision."

He dug around for a couple more shirts, trying to get four different colors that in the daylight he could hopefully mix and match. Then he shoved everything back in that bag and tied it up. He hung his haul over the edge of the dumpster and started opening bags on a hunt for jeans. A pair of jeans and a pair of sweatpants was basically all the wardrobe a teenaged boy needed, anyway.

It took four bags until he found some, and they were too big. But the next bag under that had his size range. These had been snipped too, but Peter huffed a laugh. So what? Lots of jeans had tears in them as a style choice. He dug out two pairs and wiggled into them one after the other to check the fit. It was a relief to have his legs covered. They were kinda long but he was expecting a growth spurt any day now, so that was great. He was pretty sure one was black and one was blue, so that was a good variety.

He wanted underwear and socks. Maybe a heavier coat, if they had one. He searched and searched and came up with nothing. He did find a shoulder-strapped canvas bag that had probably been returned- there was a subtle stain on the inside. Peter would have preferred a backpack, but he shoved the clothes inside the bag anyway. This was a lot better than just walking around holding a handful of fabric. He put the little bag from the guy’s locker inside of it. He still hadn't even looked at what was in it.

Still. He stared mournfully at the clothes. No underwear, really? He was willing to compromise on socks, but underwear and shoes that fit were a big deal.

"I guess they don't need to seasonally change those so much." Peter sighed to himself. "Wait- no. That can't be right. For socks maybe but shoes? They must throw out a ton of shoes."

Just not today, apparently.

Disappointed, he closed the dumpster back up and adjusted his haul over his shoulder. He left without looking back. He was already churning through possible solutions for his outstanding problems. Socks, shoes, underwear, and a sewing kit so that he could use his changes of shirts.

'Fancy hotels have those little repair kits as part of the free goodies.'

Oh, man. Peter steeled himself for social embarrassment. He was going to have to wander in and out of hotel lobbies by himself, take a repair kit, and leave.

'Maybe they'll think I'm a guest,' he thought hopefully. 'I don't look that bad. I look kinda like I'm going to school or traveling light.'

Oh. That was an idea.

'Lots of hotels have free breakfasts. I could just walk in, eat, and leave. Even if the desk staff thinks I'm probably not a guest, they probably won't say anything.'

It seemed kinda wrong. But it was a buffet. Leftovers were going to get thrown away. And he only had to wait until the morning.

Peter tabled the idea for later. It was going to depend on just how hungry he got. He was already really hungry, if he was honest about it. Whatever bodily numbness he'd gotten from the green jello stank tank had worn off.

'I'm going to get too hungry to manage before too long even if I have a huge breakfast every day. I’m used to running on a lot of calories. What would happen to my ability to be Spiderman if I can’t eat enough?'

He shoved the realistic part of him down and tried not to feel discouraged by his demanding metabolism.

Focus. The first thing was fixing the clothes.

'No,' grumbled a mental voice he knew he should recognize. It was coming through a fog of distortion. Shelter is first, Spiderman. Shelter, water, food, and then supplies like clothes.'

He frowned and rubbed at his temples. He didn't know how to solve that problem. It seemed more practical to address the problems that he knew how to fix first.

Well. A hotel buffet would probably have drinks as well, but they wouldn't be open for a while. He didn't know what time it was but it was actually night.

At least he had a tentative plan for it.

Peter steeled himself for embarrassment and started looking for hotels. The first one he found was too fancy- the amenities weren't placed in the lobby. He walked in and his attention was immediately caught by the soft golden gleam of a bell on the reception desk. It was under a strategic light.

'This one won't be good for breakfast either, there's nowhere for a buffet,' Peter noted. Thankfully, no one was waiting at the desk. He walked back out and realized that would probably be the case for most places at this time of night.

He felt better going into the next hotel. This one had amenities out, but not a sewing kit. Peter took a toothbrush, two of the packets of wash products, and a cheap razor. Maybe this would be the time his facial hair started to come in and he'd need to shave.

'I really need a wash,' he noted, not for the first time. 'So bad.'

The green stuff didn't smell …too bad when dry. It definitely didn't smell as sour as it had tasted. But his skin itched and his hair was crunchy.

The third hotel was the winner. He had the idea to look for a cheaper hotel aimed at business class travelers. It had free wifi, what was definitely going to be a breakfast buffet from 5:00 am, and it had the sewing kit that he needed. Peter took one gratefully, wondered if it would have enough string, and then took a second kit just in case.

Okay. Next priority was getting clean. That would double up with getting water- now that he'd thought about it, Peter was thirsty enough to drink shower water from the faucet.

He looked for a gym. He found a fashionable 24 hour one and dismissed it. Entrance was clearly only by key cards there. He needed someplace older. At least this was his city. He could guess the general area that would have what he wanted. Peter walked around until he found one and wiggled his way up to the third floor, heaved open a window, and went in search of a shower.

"Good thing I grabbed this," Peter said, stripping all of his clothes and palming one of the tear-open packets of individual soap and shampoo. There was absolutely nothing in the shower in terms of amenities. Gym patrons probably brought their own stuff.

He took the longest shower of his life, wished he had a washcloth or two, and ended up using both packets of soap to get his body clean enough. Then he hauled his clothes in, all of them, and washed them as best as he could using what was left of the shampoo. He wrung them all out and then put on his new jeans, totally damp. It didn't feel great on his skin. But at least it was clean. For now, he put on one of the black t-shirts. He'd apparently managed to grab two in black, one in red, and one in blue. This t-shirt had a v- shaped cut on the stomach, but he pulled the brown jacket over and zipped it up enough that it didn't show. It was all damp and very weird, but they'd dry quickly on him since he was moving around, right?

When he looked at himself in the mirror, Peter looked like himself. Sure, he was damp and messy haired. But he was clean! He shot himself a thumbs up.

He left the rest of the clothes hanging to dry and wandered the gym. It was eerie but also really interesting. He'd never spent much time in an actual gym.

That might be a cool hobby to take up. If nothing else, he could maybe find some classes.

Oh! A clock. Peter squinted at it in the dark. It was 3:42 AM. It wasn't actually that long until the hotel breakfast bar opened, then. He'd been walking around all night.

'I need a way to tell time on my own. There's not that many clocks in public.'

The first thing that he came back to when he thought of his problems was money. Money, money, money. He needed it. And he needed ID- did the ID come before the money, or the other way around? He needed tech to be Spiderman and to live in general– man, it was weird to be without a phone– so, how?

His first thought was to go to school and use the laptops there. But he wasn't a student. That would probably freak people out- or worse, draw attention to him. Was it more illegal to exist without documentation, or to be a minor who wasn't in school?

Peter shuddered. Yeah, no high schools.

But a public library? That had potential. The computers were always pretty old but they were free to use.

That was most of an itinerary for the day, then, he realized. It made him feel better to have a plan. He was going to wait a while for his clothes to dry (should he point the blow dryer at them?), and shove them in his bag. He'd go back to the business hotel for breakfast and probably more soap, then go to the library.

'I need to eat a lot at that buffet.'

His stomach rumbled in agreement. Oh man, this was kinda bad. He had no idea how to get another meal today.

Well. He could look into it when he was at the library.

He ended up turning the blow dryer on his clothes to get them dry. They didn't seem any dryer than they'd been when he wrung them out. That made for a tense hour of pointing the little machine while his arm got tired and he kept jumping at sounds that might be someone coming to open up the gym.

Stupid, Peter chastised himself. Of course a couple hours in a humid room wasn't enough to dry anything. They'd get moldy first.

He got them dry enough to fold up and put in his canvas bag, and then he went out by the same window that he'd come in.

'I hope they don't start locking that. If I don't have a place to stay soon, I'm gonna really need these showers.'

It didn't take him long to get back to the business hotel. It was somewhere between 5 and 6, which meant that the buffet was fully out but not busy. Peter walked in and beelined to the food, trying desperately to look like he belonged.

Nutritionally, it was pretty good considering the circumstances. Peter grabbed an apple and a banana from the fruit bowl and got a glass of milk as well as orange juice. He wasn't going to get scurvy, at least!

Glass containers had a selection of baked goods that honestly all just looked okay. He picked out a couple of plain rolls and then something that had walnuts in it. For protein, his options were some queasy looking sausages and a tray of scarily yellow scrambled eggs. He took a generous portion of both and finally started eating.

Whoa. As soon as he'd had a few bites, it was like the dial turned up on his hunger. Peter ate at record speed and caught himself looking back at the buffet.

No one was looking. There was only one other person in the buffet area, a young woman staring grimly into a cup of coffee and using her phone. The receptionist wasn't paying attention at all.

Peter felt worse, somehow, about going back for seconds than he had about coming here in the first place. But he was too hungry for shame. He grabbed two bagels and toasted them at the same time and stuffed his pockets with cream cheese packets.

'I could take a bit of this with me. A roll or two and maybe a banana? Ugh, it's weird, but the cream cheese has protein in it…'

He put another couple of packets in his pocket. No one was going to count and realize he was taking two of them out the door.

While he waited for the bagels to toast he refilled his drinks and added a coffee and an apple juice. He felt ridiculous with four drinks, so he drained the milk and put the empty cup in the clean up bin.

He filled a second plate of sausages and scrambled eggs (they weren't that bad) and piled the bagels on it as soon as they popped up.

Once he'd eaten his second serving, Peter felt a lot more human.

He also felt exhausted. Like, he was beyond tired.

'I didn't sleep at all so that figures. And I don't have any idea where I can sleep today. So… maybe one more coffee while I wait for the food to give me energy I can use?'

He couldn't quite stand the idea of gulping down all that liquid right then. It seemed like a good time to see what was in the little bag he'd gotten from the probably evil scientist's locker.

'The guy worked somewhere that stores human bodies in rancid green jello. If he's not an evil scientist, it's only because he's an evil janitor or receptionist or something.'

That… It wasn't ideal but it made him feel a little better and a little braver.

The instant he unzipped the little bag, Peter realized that the guy basically had his whole life in the bag. That included a phone, which was either turned off or dead.

"Whoops," he muttered. He considered turning it on but paused. Would that be safe? He might need it. But what if someone realized it had been stolen and tracked it?

He left it alone for now and looked at the wallet.

The first thing was a Metro City transit card. Peter looked at it and put it back in place. There were a couple more cards- credit or debit, an expired gift card, membership cards to three different pizza places and a gym, and an ID. Peter glanced around guiltily to be sure no one was looking before he checked the name and photo.

Richard DeWitt was blonde, apparently 5ft 10 inches, and 170 lbs. He had a lopsided smile and dead eyes in his photo. Brown eyes.

DeWitt was 37- no, Peter corrected internally. He grimaced. He was 5 years in the past, so DeWitt was only 32. One of the ID cards was for work, which was a goldmine. Or it could have been, if the company name had been written instead of the initialism LOA.

Better than nothing, at least. He memorized the letters and logo.

The debit and credit cards were no good to him. Peter made a mental note to destroy them later, so that no one else could pull them out of the garbage and use them later.

He paused for a long moment over the cash. He felt like a spotlight was about to shine down on him and an announcer would call him a thief. But he counted it: 87 dollars. That wasn’t Tony Stark money, but there were a lot of problems it could solve for him.

'The money isn't the same as back home.'

His eye caught on the one dollar bills. He picked them out of the pile to look at them more closely, like an inspection was going to make them change.

Assuming DeWitt didn't have fake currency on him, the US dollar was different.

Peter stopped. He belatedly processed that.

There was no way in a million years that the picture on the dollar had changed in the last five years. It had always been the same guy.

But here it was, unmistakably a US dollar with a man Peter didn't know printed in the center.

That changed things.

'I"m not on my earth, unless this is a hallucination. Where else could I be!?'

He would like to stop having paradigm changing realizations, any day now.

The only thing that kept him from having a total nervous breakdown was that he was in public. Sort of. There was no one directly looking at him, but that would probably change if he went into the fetal position and started wheezing.

This was bad. This was really, really, bad, actually.

He needed to go back to the drawing board. For all he knew, there was no Peter Parker here, no Tony Stark, no one he could go to for help.

And the people who had kidnapped him-

Oh, hell. They could be anybody for all he knew. Heck, what if that was a government thing? If they didn’t even have the same presidents, he couldn’t assume this was the same country, in a sense.

‘I need to look into that, as soon as possible. What if I’ve got the universe equivalent of like, HYDRA or something looking for me? That would be a bad surprise.’

He had the address of that building, at least, and the name of an employee. That was something to go off of.

Peter forced himself to exhale long and slow. He picked up his mess. He didn’t finish going through the guy’s wallet but he didn’t have the nerves for it right now. He stuffed it back into his satchel and left with a nod at the desk clerk.

He needed information, and that meant the library was even more urgent. It was the only way he knew to access the internet.

The walk wasn’t too bad. His nerves were a knot in his throat as Peter crossed morning traffic on what had to be a weekday, but his memory of NYC didn’t lead him wrong. He bounded up the stone steps to a big library two at a time, shot a queasy smile at the man behind the desk, and ducked his head as he walked in and did a little tour of the place.

There were three floors. The first floor had a dedicated computer lab for students, and long desk with four computers for public use. Near it there was a little table with pitchers of coffee, water, and paper cups with a sign encouraging free usage. There was also a reading corner, a collection of tables for quiet group projects, and rows of media like DVDs. Wow, so old. Peter marveled at that on his way up the stairs. There was a huge papier-maché wolf on the stairwell for unknown reasons. He patted it on the head as he passed.

The second floor had that intense library smell to it and a lot of signs strictly enforcing absolute quiet. He craned to see tall rows upon rows with labels like science and law, as well as a sign for reserved meeting rooms and bathrooms. The third floor was apparently mostly for group collaboration. Each table had a sign begging people not to bring in outside food and to leave their drinks on the table. Peter glanced over to the only table that had someone at it already, spied her huge coffee cup, and suppressed a snort. He didn’t see anything, but he could smell bacon and eggs. His stomach twisted into a knot.

Still, she didn’t seem to be causing any terrible destruction with her breakfast sandwich. He noted that she had four different colored highlighters next to her notebook, but tore his attention away before he felt like a creeper.

Okay. He had the lay of the land. It made him feel weirdly better. This library was now his base of operations, the center for his information gathering campaign and the subsequent plan… construction …campaign?

He’d workshop a name later. For now, he jogged back down a floor and went to the modern history section. He just read titles for a while, trying to paint a picture of what shared history he could confirm.

He saw lots of familiar country names referenced, and a few of the names that cropped up were familiar as well. The eerie feeling that he wasn’t home just got stronger, though, because there was no reference to half the modern wars and much less on WW1 and 2 than he'd expected. They were shelved in with books about the Justice League.

Justice League?

There was a whole lot of scholarship on that, whatever it was. Maybe it was like the U.N., Peter guessed. He flipped open a book and flipped pages randomly, scanning for words that stuck out. Ah, nope, there’s a reference to the U.N. So, this was a different thing entirely.

Okay, well. That gave him a starting point of something to look up.

He went back to the first floor and started a session on one of the public use computers. He had to write the time and his name on a check in sheet. He started to write ‘Peter’ out of force of habit and scrawled to a stop after writing the Pe.

For all he knew, that could be a bad idea. He shouldn’t leave any record that actually led back to him.

‘...So what else starts with Pe?’

It took him an embarrassingly long time to come up with Peyton. He wrote that down, exhausted and relieved, and then realized he needed a last name too. Oh, heck. He wrote a random letter -K- and then searched his brain for a plausible sounding last name. He came up with Kensington and then sat down, idly wondering if that was actually a name or just like, a place in the U.K. or what.

‘...I only thought of that because it ended in ‘ton’ like Peyton,’ he had the delayed realization. ‘It sounds kinda cheesy together. Fakey.’

Okay. Realistically, no one was ever going to look at that register. So it was fine that he wasn’t good at lying on his feet. He probably needed to sit down and come up with a couple of fake names to use in future.

Well. Maybe he didn’t have to be that creative. He opened a window and searched ‘Tony Stark.’ His heart fell as he scrolled through the results.

Tony Stark didn't exist here.

There had been people with that name, don’t get him wrong. But they weren’t Mr. Stark. There was no Mr. Stark in this universe. He tried looking up current billionaires instead, just in case Mr. Stark had a different name. He flipped through their photos with a sinking heart. That guy was too bald, Mr. Stark would never have a mustache that silly, Mr. Stark wasn't that jacked, no, no, no.

He tried other names- Happy Hogan, Jamese Rhodey, Virginia Potts (he initially forgot that her name wasn’t really Pepper and ended up on a site for kitchen goods).

The result? No result, more like. Not great.

He tried celebrities. Musicians, actors, philosophers, everyone he could think of. Weirdly, lots of them popped up.

The difference seemed to be around 1940. Historical names came up the way that he would expect them to. But anyone who was modern just didn’t.

Out of extremely morbid curiousity, he googled Anne Frank. He found a semi successful novelist in her 90s who lived in Prague.

Peter put his face in his hands. Okay. Okay, he knew approximately when the universes or whatever had diverged. That was wild.

His hands were shaking. He got up, realized he didn’t have a reason to stand, and then went to pour himself a paper cup of the complimentary water so he didn’t feel like a crazy person.

This was a whole different world. He couldn't assume that his background knowledge was helpful.

That made him feel so safe and secure. Thanks, universe.

#marvel dc crossover #red reassembly #peter parker

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