#why are there so many damn ways to spell this creatures name

[acaplaya-musings]

VoicePlay Visuals - Classical Chaos (part 1/2)

(The video itself obviously isn't a two-parter, but this post is! You can go to part 2 here, and there'll also be a link at the bottom of this post.)

VoicePlay's "Classical Chaos" video publically released on the 29th of June, 2024 (well, the 28th of June for Americans I suppose, but I've been going off of my own timezone for all my other posts - no point changing now), and it features the one and only Rachel Potter, back with VoicePlay for the first time in two and a half years!

The arrangement, creative direction, and editing of this video was all Layne (with a bit of additional creative direction from Tony), and some have said this is an accurate look into what the inside of Layne's brain is like😂 Layne took snippets of a dozen different classical music pieces (ranging from "somewhat known" to "definitely well-known"), and turned them into a super original, super amazing acapella medley, and created a very entertaining and amusing video to go with it! And the video is what I'm here to talk about!

Also, if you somehow haven't figured it out yet, the Classical Chaos video is somewhat of a sequel to VoicePlay's In The Hall Of The Mountain King video they did back in September of 2022. You can find my VoicePlay Visuals post for that video here!

Anyway, enough introduction, let's get into this!

First of all, had to get a shot of that bat flying past - it's a cute touch - and second of all my goodness let's talk about set design because WOW. This is inside Pattycake Studios, believe it or not! Seriously, Mountain King I think maybe just had a handful of real trees that were dragged into the studio and then they used a hanging backdrop with a forest on it in addition? But this is heaps! (Someone in the VP Discord said apparently there were 39 trees used, damn)

This forest also did double duty, as Pattycake Productions also used it for their new Villains Lair episode, Ancient Relics (hey, might as well make the absolute most of it!), and unlike VP's video, that actually does have credits for set design! The trees themselves are credited to Orlando Art Squad, Djon Pearson, Layne, Tony, and also Big Oaks Ranch!

(Also I'm fairly certain that moon in the background is the same moon lamp/spotlight that Geoff used for his Jack's Lament video)

Eli's here! He uses the spellbook to re-summon all the others (I think), but how/why did he reappear I wonder? (Grundel magic perhaps 😝 (yeah they're playing creatures called "Grundels", I think maybe Layne came up with the name?))

"Advanced Conjuring And Other Spells (Beginners Do Not Attempt)"

Dang, I guess music really is magic after all! 😉😁

I can't read sheet music to save my life, but this appears to be the sheet music for Toccata & Fugue In D Minor (it's the first piece in this medley, and I googled what the sheet music looked like and it seems to line up).

Geoff giving a little smile and wave at Eli is very cute, and reminds me of the way Kathy waved to Geoff at the end of Golden Hour, which in turn reminded some people of Rachel's little wave in the Kiss The Girl segment of the Little Mermaid Medley, another video where Geoff got painted blue, so I guess it's a full-circle moment really!

Also yes, their appearances have been tweaked slightly since Mountain King (both Geoff and Layne have different horns, Eli and Geoff have different 'shirt' things, and Geoff's skin is more blue than it was last time), but I have many other things to talk about, so I shan't spend too much time on this.

The queen has arrived! Or rather, should I say, the White Witch!

Pfft I love Cesar's face here 😆

Man I really love Rachel's makeup and costuming here, she always looks amazing in VoicePlay videos! Also definitely Elvira: Mistress Of The Dark vibes

(And of course shoutout to Rick Underwood and Renette Feren for makeup and prosthetics for everyone in the video!)

Geoff is Planning Something(tm) 😝

The fire in this video works similarly to how the cauldron did in Mountain King in regards to colour coding, but while the cauldron only appeared to change colour whenever someone added something to it, this fire changes colour whenever a different person starts singing lead vocals! E.g., white for Rachel, as shown here. (I'm not sure how tough this was to pull off in editing/post-production, but it turned out amazing!)

The queen White Witch is busy casting spells and doing witch stuff! Do not disturb and definitely do not touch the spellbook!

(Also Cesar manages to be as adorable as ever in this video 😄)

🎶I could put a spell on you and you're done for!🎶

No wait wrong fandom 😝

Eli: "Ooh maybe while she's distracted I could-"

Rachel: "NOPE don't even think about it!"

Layne: "Lol rip tough luck"

(But seriously *pfft* @ this screenshot 😂)

Wait for it...

"WHERE IS THE BOOK?"

Even Layne is like "oh dang" 😂

Geoff got a hold of it! (good for him) Using what I can only assume is the power of Looney Tunes Logic! 😝

Geoff: Hey look I got this cool book! Isn't it neat? The other three guys: GIMME! Rachel: *Big Mad*

Okay I do kinda love the huge grin on Geoff's face here - it's very him, and he's having fun!

(Also notice how the fire has turned blue now that he's singing!)

Geoff holds up the book...

...And suddenly he no longer has the book!

Unfortunately for Geoff (and Rachel), he's not the only one with the power of Looney Tunes Cartoon Nonsense Logic! 😝😂

(Also the fire has changed again!)

Okay I have to talk a teeny bit about the music here because 1, I love how Geoff's "wait where did it go" head turns are perfectly timed to the "doo-doo," backing parts here, and 2, as I said in my Thoughts And Commentary post, I find it very amusing that Layne's section here is The Blue Danube, considering he just yoinked the spellbook from Geoff, who is Very Blue 😂

*pfft*

"Don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious-"

Aww look at that mischievious-but-lovable grin!

And look at what's happened to the fire! It's still mostly orange, but with a bit of green on top! Kinda like... a carrot! Layne The Carrot Lord strikes again! 😆

Rachel: "Yeah I'll have that back thanks"

And I've officially hit image limit, so that's part 1! Now you understand why I made this into two posts, not one? You can go find part 2 here! See you there!

[velvetwarfare]

welcome to a lore dump of pre-turned and some notable turned betty facts that explains why she’s this bad

🐀

- First and foremost, literally everything I write about her pre-turned verse derives from the LARP I attend and act out in person while playing her character. It’s a weekend long, I’m actually going this coming week (that’s when her brother dies and she officially becomes a vampire lol), and anything important that happens there is written into her backstory here. I play her future verse here. Both her past and present are constantly being updated, as whatever occurs in LARP directly influences her present, making her the only character I have that will be consistently updated for years coming.

- Leathe is the hometown/world she comes from. She is a Shavali — a spiritual and Slavic based group that are very, very tight knit and essentially act like a mafia. Family and freedom means everything to them. They are externally performers, jesters, entertainers, wear a shit ton of colorful clothing and bells and sashes to gain the spotlight. Internally, they are very perceptive, keen, eavesdroppers, sly, and can even be murderous as all fuck should someone harm one of the family.

However, their two-sided reputation eventually caught up to them and towns often view Shavali in a negative light — murderers, thieves, liars, etc. They’re often the first blamed for town crimes, even if they had nothing to do with it. Shavali are constantly fighting to prove their worth.

To lose a family member is to lose your entire self.

- Betty as a human used to have a personality similar to Charlie. Save your people under any cost necessary, redeem the misunderstood and damned. She loved so hard, cared very deeply, and was always on guard to protect. She was a heroine — a front liner, a fighter with a two-sided battle axe the same height as herself (5’7). She was also a bard and performed under the stage name ‘Lullaby Betty’ — and all of her bardic spells dealt w mind manipulation. She was very persuasive and charismatic, occasionally sultry and seductive to get information out of someone.

This bled somewhat into her turned days — her axe isn’t used as much and her bardic spells were entirely forgotten, replaced with her vampire powers as well as blood magic. She’s even more conniving in her persuasion and charisma and she’s even worse with being seductive to get what she wants. Before it was usually for fun, but nowadays it’s used with malicious intent. Her turned days are chaotic evil. Her pre turned days were chaotic neutral.

She slowly forgot about her good morals and regards for others the more the vampiric disease festered. Love became obsession, the plethora of traumas and losses turned her into a selfish and closed off creature coupled with unbridled rage and bitterness, and her respect for the Gods went out the window. Any hope to be a heroine was trashed due to how badly it hurt and how horridly the expectations of the townsfolk damaged her, leading her to entirely discard the optimistic look on anything that walked the earth. Obsessed with freedom and getting to do whatever the fuck she wanted with no repercussion, she became a villain, never wanting to feel the pain of loss and rejection again after failing too many times to save her people.

- People don’t necessarily die in Leathe. They die often in AWFUL ways — but are usually sent back to the living with no memory. If your luck is particularly shitty, you could not come back though.

Yeah, that fucked her up pretty badly. That meant she would have had to watch ALL of her family and friends die CONTINUOUSLY and never know if they’d return or not. Too many times had she watched her loved ones perish in some freak accident or failure in battle, sob out, then wait in the freezing cold for them to come back in fears they wouldn’t. Her father figure once was turned to ash right in front of her. Her older brother was poisoned slowly. She once was eaten alive by a zombie lord herself. The dead may not remember, but she sure as fuck does.

Over and over and over and over again.

- Her older brother, Dimitrius, taught her everything. He raised her, protected her, taught her about the culture, taught her how to honor the spirits, how to get around town, etc. She looked up to him like a fucking God more than a brother — she wanted to be like him when she was older. He was a role model and her last saving grace.

However, he turned his soul over to an infernal many moons ago to save some of the family — which means when he dies for the last time, his soul doesn’t get to reincarnate or go anywhere. It goes to the infernal’s lantern — and used as ammo against the celestials, ceasing to exist. Nothingness.

He was killed in front of her. She screamed, begged, tried to attack the infernal, her father figure had to hold her back — and nobody could do anything. All she had left of him was his bell of healing, which she still wears on today centuries later. Despite the countless years passing, she never forgot about Dimitrius.

It was the same day she too died and became a vampire — and it was that very day the original Betty died with him.

She was never the same again upon respawn.

- The townsfolk eventually split into unsure gossips when they found out she was a vampire amongst the living.

On one side, she DID continue to fight for her people — albeit a lot more violently and mercilessly now. She was BRUTAL with her axe and carried the rage of a barbarian (her father figure was in fact a barbarian lmao) and was taught lethal blood magic by the same vampire that bit her. She was melded into a winter soldier by the church of Drevarria — a goddess that created the undead and taught her followers necromancy and lessons through unadulterated agony. Meaning she would be trained so violently that she nearly DIED relentlessly. Broken limbs, punctured organs, open lacerations, violent spellwork, etc and still forced to fight and endure to become numb to the agony.

All of this made her a fucking TERRIFYING opponent to deal with became she was immune to common physical bludgeons, mind alterations, and fear itself. She often carried about an aura of intimidation and a spell that caused others to cower in fear, only to decapitate them once they fell to their knees.

The other side feared her so much for being undead that they actually tried to kill her. Her own friends did in fact turn against her and tried to kill her despite her trading in mortality in order to protect her people better.

And thus, the anger and bitterness grew.

- When I tell you this bitch became a force to be RECKONED with after she left Leathe on nothing but HATRED, ANGER, BETRAYAL, AND A DISGUST FOR ANYTHING THAT BREATHED OR EXISTED LMAO

Thus, the lovely Ubersreik (Warhammer End Times) days commenced ✨

The era of self experimentation to see how far she can push her immortal body, getting appointed as a war commander for these giant ass mutated rat men, claiming part of an abandoned castle to train her men and herself, raiding clans, mass genocide on both other clans and humans, interrogation and torture, black market business with her elixir brewing, etc. This resulted in a LOT of deaths — but due to her immortality and never ending spite for the Gods, she kept coming back. Which made her power trip all the more insane.

- And then FINALLY, on her tenth death, the Gods went god fuck this bitch and shot her down to Hell to punish her for the novels worth of crimes.

and she just set up shop in the hotel with her elixirs and thrived with the chaos, not regretting a damn thing GFGDHDHFHVBB

[snow-system-wol]

An assessment of one Warrior of Light, upon first actual meeting, from the esteemed Emet-Selch.

(A fun short thing that may end up needing to be changed after EnW. Hm. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

Ao3

 

You cannot deny that you are curious. What you shall deny, wholeheartedly, is to what extent that runs and directions you may go with it. Oh, yes, you are curious about this vaunted Hero of the Source that has so antagonized your colleagues – in so much as one could be curious about such a simple creature, a mortal man.

You are curious because of the potential directions your plans could go, of course, now that the quickest and easiest road has been denied. There are many paths forward, all hinging on how this Warrior responds to the remaining Lightwardens. Would he handle one, two, three more before it was too much? If he could hold onto all five and not crack, what might you be able to do to tip the scales in your favor? It promises to be interesting, if nothing else.

You'd love to convince yourself that that's all this is, but – you don't really need to go introduce yourself, do you? You could've taken his measure a myriad other ways, continued to watch very closely without his knowing, but that isn't what you're doing right now. No, you've instead decided to put yourself in his presence, in plain sight.

Ah, well… mostly in his presence. You can see from your illusion’s perspective and he can see you, so it is really mostly the same as actually standing there in front of him, yes?

Of course, he regards you so suspiciously even before you give your name… how very unfriendly this supposedly kind Warrior is – you could call him something else, other than Warrior, but you don't truly need to acknowledge that you know his name. Warrior, among other things, would suffice.

There are others there with him, though you care rather less about them. That Elezen was clever, but perhaps to the point of stealing your limelight. And the Hyur – you'd rather he let the Warrior respond to you, thank you very much. It is still a good initial conversation, to watch and see what they could possibly make of your offer of cooperation.

You are not fooling yourself very well, try as you might. You know why you've chosen to speak with him as… almost yourself, why you've chosen to set yourself on the path of intentionally spending more time with him. It's because of… them. You want to see whether this Warrior is actually –

Really, it is just a quirk of coincidence, of you becoming slightly delusional after all these years. The hair, yes, something about the face, yes, the gentle affection and fierce protectiveness he regards his companions with (not you of course)... But everything else is all wrong. The Warrior may somehow feel like Azem, but he is not them. The hair is not truly correct, a similar pink but a different fade. The green eyes are not a perfect match, you just know. And, of course, they'd not had those ridiculous ears or tail either.

Those physical misalignments are not really the most important parts, though, if you can admit that. It's their spirit and sense of self. You see it when he laughs with those white haired twins. You see it when he returns the grateful smiles of those around the Crystarium he helps with the most mundane tasks. You see it in the way he seems absolutely bloody incapable of turning away if someone is in danger. You see it in the determined set of his jaw as he makes choices that may well spell the end of their life, facing it with a stubborn determination that bordered on self-sacrificial –

Damn it all.

You'd hoped talking to him would make any of it more sensible. It only makes it worse. You stride towards him, still a ways off, and after a few steps he flinches back so obviously that it nearly throws off your entire monologue. The angry set of his jaw doesn't match the exhausted fear in his eyes, and you are forced to acknowledge the things you'd been ignoring in your desperation.

As much as many of the traits you'd noticed were so very Azem, some key things were just… missing. They'd always been so happy, so good at keeping up a carefree energy, so freely giving with their physical affection – you'd call it a nuisance, if you could possibly pretend you disliked it.

This Warrior is rather the opposite of those things.

He is afraid, you can see it. He hates to be touched, even by those he is closest with, he is so clearly haunted by wounds both fresh and very old. The Warrior emits a bone-deep exhaustion and a soul-deep despair. He won't look people in the eye very often, he flinches if any of the taller Scions draw near, his gaze grows distant when he thinks no one is looking, and you, quite frankly, do not know how you are meant to react to that.

A part of you wants to be angry for what's so clearly been done to him – but that anger comes from imagining him as someone he is not. If someone had ever laid a hand on Azem… but they would surely never have allowed such a thing to happen in the first place, not as powerful as they were. No, the remainder of you simply feels anger at him for being such a poor mockery of your memories, just close enough to be cruel.

You try to dismiss these thoughts. This Sundered world is fundamentally broken, it should be of no surprise for any shadow of your Azem to be so broken as well.

(But then why does it still hurt to see?)

[elkenbulwark]

@wildskissed cont.

Oh, he damned well knew he was out of his mind indulging her like this. He was already out of it- a comfy home for a mindflayer to take over without so much of a twitch from him to protest when he'd gathered the weeds to start with. Even if initially he hadn't planned on handing them over to her, the drive to occupy his hands and then not want to waste his efforts got the better of him. Surely- that was all it was. Elves liked flowers anyway, so why not? Wood elves especially. Not that he knew too many of those personally, but she'd started the trend, he supposed. At least he was mildly sure she had wood elf somewhere in the line up, though he wouldn't stoop to asking her more to not come across so...curious. He was by no means a cat, but he still didn't feel like having his whims backfire in his face like the strange, wild magic spells she wielded.

Speaking of, he was somewhat surprised he had just her lips to answer to and not a random explosion in his face...as of yet, anyways. He was much too glad to silence her sass for even just a brief moment in returning her lips with a fond rutting of his jaw against hers to consider the possibility of such an explosion, but he'd taken his share of friendly (not actually so friendly) fire from Ren's fire spells against a gaggle of enemies surrounding him that he did not think about his own well being at the time, though the tingle in his lips and the tadpole in his brain would argue this was the best for his well-being, in their highly held opinion.

His movements were careful, yet assured when he toted her off the beaten path, well aware of the full daylight that offered to expose the sudden spark of activity between them. He could curse about it if her lips weren't so demanding of his during their 'bartering' session. With how it was going, there was no way he'd come out of it with a shred of dignity to his name. Especially not if word made it to that fucker, Astarion-...no, he didn't want to think about that now. Though the thought introduced a level of authority briefly explored by swinging her weight round as if he'd press her against the wall of the abandoned shed. Instead, he swung further than needed and dropped back himself with his back against the wall and her weight balanced against his mid-murmur against her lips when they drifted off the distance needed for her to admonish him. Or whatever it was she had planned- river current that she was and he just waiting to see what direction it would take a leaf like him.

The crushed flowers noted, he huffed at her as she mused about the predicament, looking about as red in the face as some of the petals...though she was one such creature he'd met without shame. Well, if they had to steep low, he could bend. Or at least lean in to nuzzle just so under her ear at the hair tucked behind it like he meant to nudge it free with his persistence and cause her face to itch for all his efforts. "Not deeper than these tadpoles, that's for sure." As he rested his back against the wall, he took to stroking up through the valley of her shoulder blades and further into the mess of her hair as his other remained a support beam beneath one of her thighs. Something about how he had his back pressed firm to the wall seemed to calm him to her further affections, and he found himself groaning with his chin tipped up to the snap of her teeth. Though anyone else would have found the most comfort in being butted and held against a wall for safe, if not selfish safe keeping, the half-orc felt more useful the other way around. No random orc weapons sliding through the wall would bother them...and if it did, at least it was his back that would take the blow this go round.

"We-...can't keep this foolin' up." Birvor reminded her hesitantly, sharp-ended fingers already tangled in the mess of her hair which he used to guide her in to what anyone else would see as a kiss from some distance away, though it was really just a close ghosting of lips where he deposited a heavy breath or two against her mouth. "Can'tcha be normal 'an rile us up under the cover 'uh night?" Complaint huffed, he let his hands explore their holding place at her hips with a soft squeeze and a rumble in his throat against the teeth taking a snap at it.

"...so m'takin' it ya liked'em?"

[the-chessboard-is-personal]

my budget and ethics and legality prevents this, so it's only possible to read my resturant (fuck you its spelled this way now) idea as a story, but i swear its a damn good one. from the POV of a bystander to an entitled customer encounter. under cut because long

TW slight description of gore(?)

You approach a resturant called The Kiedrus' Pasta Palace. 'weird name,' you can't stop yourself from thinking, 'but okay.'

It's unusually tall for a resturant, four, maybe even five floors by the looks of it. As you walk inside, however, you notice there's only actually one floor. 'What's that on the ceiling?' your thoughts are interrupted by the person at the front desk.

"Welcome to The Kiedrus' Pasta Palace," she says, customer service smile plastered on her face. "Be nice."

You have to admit, the slogan is weird and slightly off-putting. Like, of course you had planned on being nice, but the reminder felt a little too much like a warning. But that- that was probably just your anxiety, right?

After a moment too long, though one maybe expected by the hostess you speak. "Table for one, please."

"Right this way!" she says, opening a waist-high gate and holding it for you. She's still smiling, but it looks almost genuine this time.

There are eyes on the ceiling. Golden flashlight eyes, sets of two that belong to what is no doubt some strange animatronics, but eyes nonetheless. You don't take more than a glance yet.

As you follow the hostess to your table, you find yourself asking what actually is on the ceiling. How could you not? They're the weirdest thing about this place. Or at least, they were, until she answers your question with a nonchalant tone that only made you worry more.

"Oh, those are the Kiedrus."

You recall the small creature that seemed to be the place's mascot, a pitch black thing with straight horns and a small tail that stood on two legs and held a plate of spaghetti, smiling a jagged grin that looked rather cute in the cartoonish art style of the sign. If the things roaming the ceiling were in fact the same creatures- or at least caricatures of them, that would make sense.

"Right..." you say, trying to hide your nervousness. Your anxiety is calmed, if only slightly, when you reach the table. It's far enough from other people that you can just drown out the other customers talking, but close enough that you don't feel alone. There is a menu placed neatly in the center of the circular table.

"The waiter will be with you shortly." the hostess says before walking off, presumably to wait for another customer. Once you're sat down, you open the menu to find as many different types of pasta as the owner seemed to be able to reasonably fit on a 6 page book. You decide on a spaghetti without sauce dish that looks strangely good.

Looking around the rest of the place, it's not too unusual if you ignore the Kiedrus. The reddish-orange walls and the lamps that only light so far up them, while it doesn't bring a sense of comfort, per se, it's acceptable. There are some round tables and some booths, the place isn't too full but it's not empty either. So what if the ambient chatter of the other customers is occasionally joined by a metallic creak or clang? If the food is good and the staff don't blatantly fail to hide that they secretly hate both you and the higherups, then the slightly unsettling atmosphere is actually probably a bonus for the average horror fan.

For a while, everything is normal. The waiter stops at your table, writes down your order and walks away. That wouldn't last your whole stay, however, as the hostess leads a family to a booth close enough that you can make out what the people there are saying. The tone of the mother reminds you of when a reddit youtuber uses their "Karen voice".

After a moment, you can't help but overhear the mother at the booth ask what could be the dumbest question possible in this context.

"Why do they only serve PASTA here?!"To

Now eavesdropping intentionally, you hear the conversation as follows:

"Honey, it's.. it's a pasta place. You specifically chose a pasta place."

"Well, couldn't they at least have SOMETHING else? Corn, steak, anything??"

"Yeah!" one of the kids pipes up. "I want a burger!"

"It's okay sweetie," the mother responds, "you'll get your burger. I'll make sure the staff make one just for you!"

For the next five or so minutes, you do your best to ignore the mother's blabbing about how it's been so long and don't the staff know how important she is?

To be completely honest, it's kind of ruining your experience here, although you know that's not the resturant's fault. When the waiter arrives to their table, you roll your eyes at how dragged out the woman's "Fiiiinally" is.

Half-listening to an angry woman argue about burgers with the waiter, you notice that the Kiedrus seem to be... gathering in one general area of the ceiling. Looking down, you don't know whether you should be surprised or not to find that area is where the entitled woman's table is.

"Ma'am, you-" The waiter is cut off a few times by the woman's angered rambling, before he raises his own voice a bit. You expect him to say that they do not sell burgers or something like that, but what he says instead gives you pause.

"Ma'am, you might want to look up."

She stops almost yelling at the waiter, a look of confusion creeping its way onto her face.

"What?" She says, in a tone so 'quiet' that you almost can't hear her. The waiter stands there as she processes what he said. When she looks up, you take what you initially think will be just a glance back to the Kiedrus as well.

You drop your fork in shock.

Their eyes, once golden, are now a harsh red. They are all staring down at the table, and their eyes are bright enough that you can just make out the odd detail. Mouths that end in sharp points instead of teeth, claws that look more like hunting knives than anything an animatronic at a resturant should have. The occasional clacks and clunks have been replaced with a low, constant whirring.

The moment lasts too long. It feels like time is slowed. The lonely sound of mechanical growling is finally interrupted after seconds that feel like minutes.

"What the hell are THOSE?!"

The question snaps your attention back to the table. One of the kids is holding their father's arm in fear, the other is staring in what you can only guess is fascination.

The waiter stared blankly at the woman, the customer service smile had presumably left his face when she looked up. The seemingly angry Kiedrus, however, didn't stop her from acting like she had the most important family in the world, second only to herself.

"I... I DEMAND a discount for scaring my kids!! Or I'd have to leave a one star review and get this place shut down. You wouldn't want that, now wo-"

Click.

The woman's lousy excuse for a threat was abruptly cut off by all the lights simultaneously going out. The entire building was now completely dark, save for the eyes of the Kiedrus. All noise stopped.

Then, suddenly, one set of eyes dropped right onto the table. The sound of metal against wood shattered the silence, soon to be followed by a horrible tearing sound, and a shrill scream.

The eyes flew back up as fast as they went down, and the lighting in the building came back on. You look back at the table and gasp.

There was blood everywhere.

The woman had three large knife marks in her arm. The waiter was nowhere to be found. Suddenly the whole table was in a panic, the father took off his shirt and put it around the mother's wound.

"What the fuck?! This place is a death trap!!" She shouted, sounding more entitled than fearful. The whole family then ran out of the resturant, and everything was seemingly back to normal, whatever "normal" was in this place.

A janitor walked over to clean the blood off the table and booth. The Kiedrus were roaming again, eyes golden. You now understand the rneaning of the slogan.

But hey, the food was good, and the staff were nice. Overall, four out of five stars.

Just, maybe don't come back with your entitled friend.

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 235

Baby/Death in Heaven

“Baby”

Plot Description: shot entirely from within the impala, this episode follows Sam and Dean as they hunt a ghoul-like creature and try to make sense of an ominous dream

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I’m GUESSING Dean’s not actually dead there, but he IS majorly unconscious

First of all, what a fucking weird episode concept

We are missing Jensen in shorts because it’s shot from inside the impala??? Rude. Like, if every other show can have scantily clad women washing cars, spn should show us Dean in shorts again. They may not even be scant

Sam, that’s not much of a smoothie

How does Cas know everything about pop culture now but doesn’t know what Netflix is??

How many years back y’all work that w****go case with Heather? Because y’all haven’t had time in the past like…six or seven

I can’t believe Dean’s not more annoyed with Sam for having sex in the back of his car.

It’s hard to be mad about seeing small moments between them in the car. Things normal people would say on long car trips, not always end of the world type shit and lying to each other all the time

WHY IS JOHN THERE??? GET OUT OF THAT CAR. It’s young John so not…AS bad as the John we all know and hate…but now I hate him too

It’s SO REFRESHING to hear them actually talk about what’s going on. Of course Dean is miffed that Sam didn’t tell him he got infected but………they’re talking about their literal DREAMS now. My heart is so soft

I don’t understand how what Dean is saying is any different than what fake dream John told Sam. That it’s up to them to bring down the Darkness, and that there’s no help…though I never really thought about what “god helps those who help themselves” means.

Good. Don’t indulge Dean calling a werewolf vampire hybrid a werepire

I knew his opposition to valet was about the car and not paying for it

Aaaaaaaand that’s why you don’t joyride the car you’re supposed to be valet parking, kids

“I’m mostly confused. I’m not sure how orange correlates with black in a way that is new” never ever change, Castiel

Dean, stop trying to make werepire happen. It’s not going to happen. Yeah, whisper is a lame name for whatever this…isn’t, actually.

The best thing about putting Cas on speaker while he’s in infodump mode is that he doesn’t realize Dean’s not there til he hears gunshots and Dean comes back in saying that it turns out he did shoot the deputy.

However, shooting him with silver bullets and decapitation DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE WORKED. HOW.

If no one says “what’s in the box?” even once it’s a waste of putting the deputy’s still growling head in a cooler

Dean, DEFINITELY don’t try to make ghoulpire happen. DEAN. Stop calling it a ghoulpire. You sound ridiculous

Oh shit. The original victim’s wife is one of the……..ghoulpires (I don’t have subtitles on so I’m not going to try to spell out a name I can barely remember. Dammit, Dean). She beat Dean unconscious and stole the impala. She might be the alpha ghoulpire. (I’ve now typed that enough times to have my phone recognize it. Great.)

$20 says the purse left by the valet girl’s friend she went joyriding with has a penny in it minted before 1982

K she’s not the alpha. The deputy is. Omg…the hairpin Piper lost after her romp with Sam is find to get the handcuffs off Dean. The knife will decapitate him and the purse WILL have the penny. I’m sure of it.

Poor Baby. She doesn’t deserve this. She’s got no windows left. I know Dean will fix her up but damn.

That’s actually smart…instead of sifting through the pennies to find one minded before 1982, just shove them all in the ghoulpire’s mouth and hope for the best. Which does seem to have worked

I take it back. She’s got her passenger’s side windows left. To think we started this episode with a fresh wash, and now Dean’s rolling her totally busted up, engine barely working, hardly any windows left (and the ones she does have are covered in blood) out of the Oregon town. Poor Baby

“Death in Heaven”

Plot Description: with cybermen in the streets of London, old friend unite against old enemies

Does that mean we’re gonna get Not Vriska, Jenny, and Strax?? Perhaps a little River??

Ok, Clara, you pretended to be the Doctor once, let’s not get carried away and think you can pull that off again in the face of the cybermen

Missy calling the cybermen her boys is hilarious. I love it

Oh, Oswin! And Kate Stewart!! I AM excited to see her back! Both of them, really, but kind of mostly Kate

Join me in this episode where I try to figure out if I like Kate or Missy more of if I can simply simp for both

🎵I think I’ve seen this film before, and I didn’t like the ending 🎶 (and I mean like…three days ago on supernatural)

(I’m also now thinking about how I’m going to have to purchase season 4 of Sherlock…and within the next month because we are winding down on this project)

Why…would you incapacitate the Doctor??

I’m trying to trust the process but am I supposed to believe that human consciousnesses are being literally rained down into graves and THAT is somehow going to create more cybermen? Does that make sense to anyone else??

This guy working in the morgue would not survive the first five minutes of a Supernatural episode

The differences between how members of the government treat the Doctor and his authority on Earth is incredibly interesting. Harriet Jones immediately went behind Ten’s back to shoot retreating aliens out of the sky. Kate said Twelve’s word is literally law as soon as he boards this plane

The Doctor’s disdain for the military never fails to make me happy.

EXCUSE ME?? He’s president of EARTH? The DOCTOR?!?!

I had no idea Clara was canonically like a month older than me. She always seemed younger. Is Jenna younger than me? (Quick google break) She’s older than me! By like 8 months but STILL!!

I knew from the moment this cyberman showed up, it was Danny. But the sad head fall as he said “correct” when Clara (still trying to pretend to be the Doctor) said she’s an excellent liar. Oh it’s heartbreaking

The Master tried to either enslave or destroy the ENTIRE human race and Oswin is still like “she wasn’t even the worst” also…love that she used Missy’s new pronouns. Trans inclusive radical misogynist Steven Moffat wrote this one

Gotta love the Doctor’s subtle way of telling people “you’d make a really good companion.” When you only have to say “all of time and space?” And people know? Hell yeah

Everyone’s being advised to stay the hell away from cemeteries so of course we’re gonna plop Clara down in the middle of one. Makes sense

I can’t even take the trope of sex pollen in fanfic seriously, how are you going to try to make me take cyber-pollen seriously??

That’s a really good question. How DO you win a war against an enemy who can weaponize the dead?

I saw a post here the other day that I wish I had either reblogged or liked or thrown in my drafts about how the worst thing you can do to the Doctor is interrogate or torture him. Because the person being interrogated or tortured is the only irreplaceable person in the room, and you’ve just given the person whose main weapon is words a stage where their words are the most important thing. And it’s a little bit what Missy’s doing here. She fed info to UNIT about 3W, the company she founded to figure out how to turn the dead into cybermen, so it would bring everyone together including the Doctor to do her big reveal. I love her

(Oh this is a LONG episode)

I love her even more now. She’s singing “Hey Mickey” but replacing Mickey with Missy. We stan a bitch with audacity and confidence who’s definitely unhinged

Sorry rando guards and Oswin, but it was also really delicious when Missy killed you

They really need to stop underestimating how many cybermen are around

This is TORTURE. I don’t even like Danny that much but it’s AWFUL to have to watch him hear Clara say that she’ll always trust and forgive the Doctor. That she’s his best friend and he’s hers…….and she’s never lie to the Doctor. OMG.

YEAH! How shit do you feel now, Clara??

Missyyyyyyyyy, why’d you have to go and kill Kate too??

Missy has exactly zero hinges. I love her so much

Omg, yeah. Justified.

Yes, it was cool that the Doctor called the TARDIS to him and dove into it but…please. Some decorum.

I’m not saying that Danny’s necessarily wrong about the Doctor, I’m just saying that his hatred towards him has been the most complex of all the companions’ attachments. And I do think that Danny does…or did underestimate Clara a bit

There’s no way she did all this solely to give the Doctor an army as a birthday gift…oh…look, the Doctor has taken some undue authority roles over the years but that’s not what he wanted. And to make him the general of this army of cybermen because the only thing that will keep humanity alive is going out and conquering the rest of the universe is DIABOLICAL (I say kicking my feet and giggling)

See? Yeah. He’s an idiot with a box and a screwdriver (his words). So he gives the army to Danny, who gives the order to burn the clouds turning people into cybermen. I’ll admit it is a nice full circle moment

How did Kate survive that fall? *the dawning realization* one of the cybermen who was near the plane was her father. He caught her and saved her and I’m CRYING (I’ve seen very little Old Who, but I’m still crying)

Danny sending the kid he either couldn’t save or got killed (I truly wasn’t paying attention at that point) back to earth to live his life as he should

Omg, they’re lying to each other worse than the Winchesters. He didn’t find Gallifrey and she’s not still with Danny. Missy lied and Danny’s very dead now. Wtf? Why are they like this??

Oh thank god someone finally said that the two of them weren’t alright. BUT I WASNT EXPECTING IT TO BE ACTUAL SANTA CLAUS

[archive-double-knots]

NOTE, when discussing Xia, the word ‘demon’ is used to refer to non-human & otherworldly creatures. They were here before humans, and are likely to be here after.

By calling them ‘demons’ this does not mean they are negative nor positive, nor are they good or bad forces. They are simply otherworldly & have magic of some kind innately to them.

Xia is also referred to as a demon, but it’d be fair to call her a spirit, or even an angel due to this distinction.

reminder that her name is

Shǐ Xia

pronounced

she she-ah

spelled

史夏

meaning

History // Summer

casual reminder that Xia’s been around since the beginning of our solar system at least, if not OLDER. She can remember a time before the sun was around. She can remember a time when the universe was dark. Because Xia was not from earth technically. She uses the word demon, but she’s far more than just a demon or spirit.

Xia is a being of the universe itself. Once things began to formulate into more solid creatures and beings, Xia took on the form of a fox, and this was her first and still her only true earthly body. She learned how to exist on earth from the time it was created, and slowly over many many years eventually earned her nine tails through a lot of tasks that some might consider to be gruesome.

She’s seen many other creatures like her, the ones that have been hunted, killed, destroyed, consumed, or otherwise. But Xia is the only one left.

casually reminds everyone how very very OP xia is.

like, she literally turns humans into demons just for the fuck of it, takes the literal souls and essence of demons and humans alike, has the ability to turn into a giant nine tailed fox, can manipulate water into just about anything, travel between realms of reality, has a vast amount of knowledge beyond most any creature alive, can release souls from purgatory, has the only way in and out of purgatory btw, can create magical weapons that can easily steal magic from one creature and give it to another, has a multitude of demons working under her command, and all she fucking does with this op-ness is try to fuck / fuck with some people sometimes.

like,,,, she could easily be the big bad tm but she’s just so apathetic to most things that at this point she no longer sees the world for what it is, but what it has been could be and will be. shes not evil shes not good shes just there and does whatever the fuck she wants which tends to be ,,,, sitting around and smoking her damn pipe

so the version i watched of green snake used ‘SHURA CITY’ but its also referred to as ASURAVILLE in the version released on netflix today. there isn’t a difference besides translations, shura was used in the japanese translation, asura was used in madrin and english.

SHURA, an alternate Japanese term referring to one of the six realms of reincarnation; the kanji are also used in the name for the Buddhist entities known otherwise as ASURA

Asura: in Buddhism is a demigod or titan

basically, the japanese translation made it a play on words for asura and shura because Shura City / Asuraville is a realm that stops your reincarnation and is plagued by monsters that look like an Asura.  its just clever and i like shura city slightly better for that reason, so for Xia and Yue, i will refer to it as Shura City

casually reminds people that xia is,,,a bit abusive towards her two main underlings, Mu & Li, at least that’s how it appears.

They,,,,actually take pleasure from it, it’s why I don’t heavily address it often, because it’s a lot to unpack lmao. Also they are demons so her smacking them around actually doesn’t cause them any harm.

Xia compares her treatment of them to kicking a rubber ball on the playground, if that is it’s purpose, who are you to deny it something that it was made for? And since it is made out of rubber, kicking it would cause it no harm, it simply falls back into form.

On top of that, Mu & Li are lesser demons who get protection from Xia. They were often mistreated & were almost consumed multiple times by larger demons before she took them in. They worship the literal ground she walks on.

But yeah, TL;DR: Mu and Li deeply love Xia and happily do anything for her. And she loves them, just…differently than they love her

Also, for the record, Xia is a creature on Earth, technically Yue-Yan died prior to the Tang Dynasty ( 618 to 906 A.D.) Meaning he’s been dead 1403+ years at least

MEANING, XIA’S BEEN CARRYING HER GRIEF & SORROW FOR 1400+ YEARS.

Hi we’re gonna talk about XIA’S PIPE! Because fun fact: She’s NOT smoking. Not actually, anyway.

Her ‘canon’ ( I say loosely ) material is from either before or during the TANG Dynasty ( 618 to 907 ). Tobacco was first brought to China in 1570. Hence, smoking pipes actually didn’t exist in China during Tang dynasty. Therefore, Xia CANNOT be using a typical smoking pipe, nor can she be using tobacco.

Her pipe is actually a CONDUIT of magical essence. Okay, hear me out. Throughout her scenes, she has the pipe, and she appears to be smoking from it; however, this smoke is also used to analyze the magical hair pin and for Xia to disguise her transition from wolf head to human head (although, she later has no issue doing so without the literal smoke screen, i digress) So, the smoke has to be magical in some sense.

Her pipe is ALSO how she brands weapons and items she considers “good enough” to be labeled as a Precious Jade craft. It embosses the items with the signature like we see here, on the hair pin:

The ‘smoke’ she inhales is actually pure essence; and when she exhales, it’s literally just like when you breathe on a cold day at that point. So, yeah, it isn’t tobacco, but it is something sort of worse? since …to get essence, she had to kill people or turn them into demons lmao

 Xia can indeed speak with both heads at once: she just finds it takes more energy and will only do it for emphasis

In the movie, her ‘character’ says: “Yes, young one, I can help you. You know, I was young once too. I had been young, been frivolous, been indulgent, and I am filled with lots of regrets nowadays. You should know one day, you could regret this… So be it, you are young, aren’t you? (though a more accurate translation is: Youth is Youth) Though transactions require an exchange. Can you afford what it will cost?” and does continuously try to talk Xuan out of his choice.

in Xia’s bio I wrote: “ Xia was in love with a human once upon a time and would have done anything for them, but when their family discovered her true nature, they turned and tried to kill her for the power one would get from killing a demon like her, killing her lover in the process. “

Basically; Xia REGRETS having ever loved a human, knowing how it turned out in the end. While her lover did not try to kill her, his family did, and ended up killing the human she was in love with on accident due to how reckless both the family was & how thoughtless she was. It’s a sore topic that she doesn’t touch on, and hardly anyone will get her to open up about it. She’s not against love, but she will go out of her way to avoid it herself. But she will help others who want to be in love.

casual reminder that Xia is a predator :)

Xia would enjoy hunting.

Xia has killed before.

Casual reminder that Xia is currently the only one left of her kind; the rest having been hunted down and killed, by both humans and other demons

Xia has actively watched those of her kind be killed, and in some part, helped kill them, due to valuing her own safety over those of others. Also, because Demons do not care about other demons, typically.

Now, centuries after the only other huli jing has perished, Xia has begun to realize what this truly means for her in her ever lasting life, and therefore, ever lasting loneliness.

Yet another reason that Xia has succumbed herself to a life in the workshop.

REMINDER that Xia’s true form is a nine tailed fox; and that she simply takes on the form you are used to seeing for every one else’s comfort. She’d show either more of her fox form, or be FULLY in her fox body if she believed she would be allowed too and if it would be comfortable for whoever else she was with.

& while its possible for Xia to turn fully human; without her fox head, she WON’T UNLESS ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY. She loves herself and her true form far more than she cares for comfort. She has only appeared fully human once in her entire life, and that was for Yue-Yan. If asked to hide her fox face, or fox appearance, she will happily bite your face

also, Her neck can spin 360 degrees to reveal whichever face she prefers to use. Fun lil tid bit there.

Basically: She is NOT human.

Reminder that Xia is actually a spirit / demon / something otherworldly and is NOT human!

She is a HULI JING and more specifically, she is a JIUWEIHU.

Her original earthly body is not human: but is a nine-tailed fox. She learned how to change into a human form over many years and now resides in that form most of the time!

However, that is not because she LIKES being human; but because it makes her job easier, & it makes others feel more comfortable. They tend to trust a pretty human more than a demon, after all.

her two main demon workers are named MU AND LI ! She is NOT kind to them, and tends to manipulate them. They are low level demons, and Xia tends to use them as literal stepping stones.

u cannot run ur hands through her hair

you also cannot hold the back of her head to kiss her

u would be better off just,,, not touching her head, otherwise u might poke one of her eyes; or grab her nose, and she’d be v upset if u did that

hi if u kiss xia’s pretty human face, u also gotta kiss her pretty fox face

Xia’s human lover was named YUE-YAN. She loved him more than anything she had ever loved prior or will after. He’s been dead for quite some time, but Xia still cares about him. She does regret being with Yue-Yan but only because it ended with Yue-Yan dying.

[kcamberart]

i don’t know exactly how big painted buntings are or where they live but the idea of tiny gryphons brings me great joy

[thesunicarusfellfor]

Mortal of Gold - Part 3

(Yandere!C!Techno x GN!Shy!Reader x Yandere!C!Philza)

Anyone want my list of the characters as gods? There were a few characters that I couldn't think of like Ponk, so I just left them out. ANYWAY. Hi, how's it going? ALSO I CANT EDIT THIS DAMN POST AND THE SPELLING ERRORS ARE SO IRRITATING

Part 1 Part 2 TW: Mention of amnesia, memories being altered Send me a message via inbox if you wanna be added to a general or series tag list. Make sure to turn off anon, please. ------- “They weren’t born… A mortal?”

A light wind brushed over your features, causing you to give a small sigh and roll over onto your side in an attempt to block the light from hitting your lidded eyes. It was nice and quiet for once… “(Y/n)?” A distorted voice echoed softly, causing you to flinch a bit. You opened your eyes slightly to see a silky blackbird sitting on the sheets beside you, a few golden trinkets laying beside it. Upon seeing your eyes slide open, the creature hopped up onto its legs and began making soft cooing noises, “(Y/n)! (Y/n), you’re awake!” Glancing around at the surroundings you had been placed in, racking your mind for any sort of familiarity but failing to come up with anything at all, even who you were. You sat up, slowly brushing your fingers along your ombre silk clothing before putting your hands on the sheets below your body, frowning as you didn’t recognize the bed as yours. “Hello…” You murmured softly, reaching your hand out to the crow who eagerly jumped forward to nuzzle your hand. The feathers of the bird felt… Odd. They felt more like grabbing at misty fog, but with a light staticky cotton texture that caused a buzzing sensation on your fingertips, “I’m sorry, my memory… Seems to be a tad faulty… Could you tell me your name?” “I’m Chat, Dadza- er… Philza’s familiar! I was a gift from Mumza, oops... Kristen, the Goddess of Void and Death.” It chirped, its voice having multiple layers in your head, causing you to shake your head a slight bit, “No, they’re not married, only parental figures to the souls that pass on to the afterlife or those they saved sometime before they passed on… I believe they have more of a co-worker relationship.” You nodded slightly, pursing your lips at how the creature’s voice sounded in your mind. It was unsettling and caused shivers to crawl up and down your back, but at the same time, it was incredibly calming and had a soothing aura. How that worked, you had no clue whatsoever. Brushing off the unsettling voice of the bird, you decided to focus on the name that caused a light to go off in your head, “Alright… Philza… I think I remember that name…” “Yeah! Dadza- Eck… Sorry. Phil, he’s the God of Survival and Crows! He controls not only every crow in the mortal land, but he also controls whether or not someone will survive a situation. If there is no way that the mortal can survive, he will send a crow down and have them guide the soul of the mortal to him! Then he escorts them to Kristen! He has gained the name Angel of Death because he works for Mumza!” You decided not to question why the crow called Philza and Kristen Mumza and Dadza, knowing that you’d probably find out later, but by the sound of it Chat seemed to be multiple children, “Okay… Makes sense…” You mumbled slowly, nodding your head up and down. With a sigh you slowly brought your legs over to the side of the bed, only now becoming aware of how large the soft mattress was. Lowlands! (Hell) You could probably fit six people who were ten feet tall in it with room to roam! Pushing yourself off the bed, you also realized how high the beautiful bed was off the floor, Gods, whoever lived here was tall! Behind you, you heard a small chirp, and you saw Chat watching you curiously. With a small shrug, you decided to pick the familiar up and hold it in your cupped hands as you walked out the door, “Oooh! Dadza never carries us like this, and Technoblade does only when he’s about to yeet us out a window!” “Yeet?” You scowled in confusion as you walked through the arched doorway, your bare feet padding silently on the quartz flooring, “I'm scared to ask. Technoblade? Is he also a god of some things? He sounds familiar as well…” “That’s its word for throwing something. Well, it yells the word when they throw something or get thrown, so I assume it’s yelling in excitement,” A deep voice spoke from in front of you, causing you to gasp and lift your head from the crow. The telepathic chirping and squeaks from Chat in your mind quickly formed the name Technoblade, so… You had a feeling that your answer was on its way past his

lips, “I’m Technoblade, or Techno, the God of Blood and War. It’s… nice to see you finally awake…” He shifted awkwardly on his feet as you curiously studied him. His appearance could certainly be described as godly if anyone asked you. His long pink hair was mostly twisted and tied into a braid with bits of golden chain and a polished golden crown adorned with rubies, garnets and diamonds. Upon his pale skin, dozens of scars of varying sizes decorated his skin in different areas, but they were displayed in an almost proud manner. Almost. When he spoke, his dark pink eyes hidden behind cracked glasses searched your form for any sort of injury, “I’m… (Y/n)... I think. I don’t know if this bird is exactly trustworthy in its information… Do you know where I am?” Techno snorted as Chat gave an offended squawk at your statement, “That’s very fair, to be honest. You’re in the Tundra of the Upperlands, and this is my palace. No there is no snow, I believe the person who named this place has never looked into the name or word Tundra, but it’s been like this for too long to change it-” He paused for a moment as he noticed you looking extremely confused, “Ah. Right. Desert. Don’t worry about it.” “Oh… Okay…” You frowned at the tusked male for a moment before shaking your head, deciding not to question it much, “Now, uh… How did I get here, and why don’t I remember anything about myself? Or, about you and this Philza guy, I was told about.” You lifted Chat slightly toward Techno as a silent indication that Chat was the one who told you about Phil. “That’s uh… Phil’s field of expertise.” He rubbed the back of his head with his black-tipped fingers before adjusting his crown, “I don’t understand much of what happened, and Phil will tell you what you need to know that will keep you safe.” Hesitantly, he held his free hand out towards you making you realize that he was easily over seven and a half feet tall, “C’mon, I’ll take you to him and get you the answers you need.” His hand was extremely steady, you noticed as you stared down at it cautiously. Once you noticed that he didn’t seem to want to do you harm, you slowly shifted Chat into one hand and used your free hand to take the one extended to you, which you couldn’t help but notice, made Technoblade very happy, “Okay. Thank you.” The god held your hand in his calloused one for a few moments before beginning to lead you down the tan and white hallways that were turned a light golden hue from the rising sun. It was quite a long walk filled with a slightly uncomfortable silence, but you distracted yourself by looking around the palace curiously. It was obvious he was the God of War by how many swords hanging on walls and sets of armour he had placed on armour stands in the hallways. Eventually, he walked you through an archway that led into a wide-open room with multiple windows that had many crows perched on the windowsills, some chirping and singing some little tune in perfect unison while others shuffled around, seeming to do a little dance. You were quick to realize the whistling of one of the birds didn’t match up and noticed that it was coming from the man with the large white and green striped hat as well as massive black feathered wings dangling on his back, fluffing themselves up every so often. When you and Techno stepped in, the blackbirds started chirping loudly, losing the rhythm of the tune the winged man was whistling as Chat started telepathically squealing about… 2/4? Two out of four what? “Ah!” The hat-wearing male turned around and clasped his hands together upon seeing you standing up, “(Y/n), you’re awake. I was worried the injuries you sustained were enough to keep you out cold for a few more weeks. I’m glad to see I was wrong. I’m Philza, God of Survival and Crows, and I see you’ve met Chat and Techno. Pesky bird, I told it not to wake you...” You pursed your lips for a moment, analyzing the shorter god as the bird squealed out its protests. While he was shorter than Techno, he was certainly tall, standing roughly around six feet tall, his wingspan

probably double that for each wing! His blonde hair was long around his face but was pulled into a loose braid like Techno’s was, although instead of gold intertwined into his hair, it was silver. His outfit was made up of a loose green shirt and black pants, with a red heart-shaped pendant dangling off of a chain into the center of his chest. Why did that pendant… Look familiar? You slowly rose your hand up and clasped at the pendant around your neck, noticing how Philza smiled softly, “Technoblade… Said you could tell me why I can’t remember anything?” “You’re still wearing my gift, I see,” Philza gave a soft hum as Chat jumped from your hand and onto his shoulder, before gesturing for you and Techno to take a seat where he already had drinks and some form of cakes set out, but they certainly weren’t there when you came in. Upon seeing your confused blinking, he gave a soft laugh, “I’m a god, mate, magic is no difficult task for me, let alone creating some measly tea and desserts. Now, sit down and I will tell you everything…” - General - None Mortal of Gold -@generalalmond @binas-idea-vault @ohworm-writes

[fic-chi]

100 Prompts in (late) celebration of hitting 200 followers

This was truly a rough year for us, eh? Some of us who made it through the pandemic, the shitstorm that is the American govt, and all around bullshittery destiny through at us have made it through, and, boy, an I so proud of you all! I've been having a hard time myself. 100 prompts aren't as easy as I anticipated, but here it is! As always, if you like my prompts or use them, please tag me! I'd love to see your interpretation!

1. "Nothing short of hellfire could possibly keep me from coming home."

2. "The skies weep when you tell me goodbye."

3. "There's a real possibility, right now, that mom let in a racoon the house thinking it was Bubby."

4. "Mad at you? I thought you were mad at me."

5. "No one, not even you who were so cruel to others, deserved to be punished in this way."

6. "I don't remember my past lives, but I guess it's innate to find you every time."

7. "Sometimes, we have to sacrifice things in order to keep the ones we hold dear safe. Sometimes, the thing we must sacrifice is ourselves."

8. "I-I didn't know you'd be home, but I got you an "I'm sorry for embarrassing you at the dinner" cake."

9. "Honey! The kids took another stray home!"

10. "Humans are vile creatures, yes, and ridding the Earth of them all could solve so many problems. But, to rid the world of human violence, it will also rid the world of human kindness."

11. Sleepy are the hearts that await a love most deserved.

12. "You do some bad things, but that doesn't mean you're a bad kid."

13. "This is nothing but a small price to pay for the privilege of cherishing you."

14. From their fingers, they casted one last desperate spell, hoping it would hit before darkness claimed them forever.

15. She sat in the dark, allowing the cold embrace of shadow lull her to bed.

16. He clung to what he could, his fingertips tearing away from the bones leaving streaks of sticky blood on the concrete walls.

17. "The world does suck, but I'll be damned if I'm going through it alone."

18. "Don't think too hard on that. He's one of those high intelligence, low wisdom guys."

19. "Every wish you made with your heart was heard. I promise."

20. "They say when you're drunk, you forget, but I seem to miss you more."

21. "It must be magic or something because I can't think of a reason why you're still here with me."

22. Soft candle light danced in the shine of her eyes like how the stars danced in the sky.

23. Everything she touched became so beautiful.

24. Forests of sunflowers, radiant as can be, were the domain of sprites and me.

25. From her bag, she pulled out a golden feather quill to make her final wish.

26. A trio of siblings, a band of brethren, to be forever connected both on this plane and whatever plane awaits them.

27. "Y'know, sweetie, everyone deserves to be loved even when you, yourself, believe you don't deserve it."

28. The bed already felt empty before he left.

29. "After all you've done to me, I must be drunk to still love you, but I haven't touched a drink since you left."

30. She was like a painting come to life with such perfection in her imperfections.

31. She held his face in her hands, lightly rubbing his cheeks, knowing that tomorrow will only bring heartbreak.

32. "I cry for you, feel for you, but who will do that for me?"

33. "Can't you take me home one last time?"

34. With his life fading ever more, he sweetly uttered their name as his body crumbled to nothingness.

35. "Dear diary, I'm back on my bullshit, and I'm not sorry."

36. As much as the loneliness ate away at her heart, she couldn't risk letting anyone in her heart to destroy what little she had left.

37. "Perhaps, you never needed to get piss drunk to forget someone. Lucky you..."

38. "I-I'm really trying here, but you're making me feel like my efforts are unappreciated."

39. The same nightmare plagued them these past several months when  things from the nightmare begin to manifest in real life.

40. After the loss of their creator and purpose of existence, an Android is met with a dilemma in the form of a lost baby.

41. "You have to get this right because you can't go marrying an orc and braid like you don't have thumbs."

42. "I know this is awkward because I never meant to release the great devil of the 7th Circle of Hell nor have intentions of making a deal, but I did make too much pasta again."

43. "My Hell ain't fire and white hot coals. My Hell is a big beautiful home with an equally big yard with no one, no family or friends, to share it with."

44. "Dying ain't too scary, but, I'll tell you what, if dying means I'll be alone on the other side, you can consider me terrified."

45. "Either my parents were cursed with over sensitive children, or I was cursed being born into a cruel family, and I don't know which is worse."

46. "Let me return to a time when everything was still perfect."

47. "Take this heart from me! The weight of a human heart is too much for me to bear."

48. "So many words bubble up in my throat when I see you, but all I want to tell you is you're beautiful."

49. "I can't even remember what I was worried about when the sight of you melted away all my anxiety."

50. "From just the simple touch of our fingertips, I already felt the sparks, baby."

51. Her eyes, just the right shade of amber, caught mine, and time slowed and only we existed.

52. "I could never let you go. Not even the strongest of winds or hottest of fires could get me to."

53. "I, uh jeez, I really wanted to say something, but I got all caught up in your radiance."

54. Curse my weak heart! Tomorrow, I will confess my feelings to him or forget it all!

55. "Theft! There's been a theft! My heart's been taken!"

56. "Pfft, you're not as scary as you make yourself out to be, ya know."

57. "You're either hungry or angry so have some pancakes first, jerk!"

58. "You didn't have to pack your whole house for a day trip!"

59. "You're a real piece of work, ya know, but you're hot so I guess I can let it go."

60. "I gotta thank sober me later for setting out the hangover kit."

61. "It's not hard to read you when you wear your heart on your sleeve."

62. "Gosh, my hands are just so cold! If only I had mittens, or gloves, or even the warmth of another pair of hands."

63. They felt like their mind was slowly losing itself the more they stayed in the same room as that person.

64. "Hey, give me some of your burdens to shoulder, too. You don't have to be afraid of me leaving you because of them."

65. The loving dreams have ceased, and my heart is missing its piece.

66. "I can be his mama AND his papa because, as long as that child needs a loving adult in his life, I'm not going anywhere."

67. In my dreams, I only see you, but my eyes open, upon the shiny light of day, and are pleasantly surprised to find my dream sleeping peacefully next to me.

68. "I'm afraid if I don't tell you now, you'll have lived your entire life not knowing how you had my heart and will always have it."

69. "Nice."

70. The world stopped and held it's breath as we danced under the moon, and your eyes captured the light of all the stars.

71. "Oh, spare me the lecture. I know you wish I was more like my brothers and sisters, and I'm sorry my existence itself is a pain, but you could at least pretend to love me."

72. "Oh, child, it doesn't matter that you were born of me or not because I can't imagine how to love you any more without suffocating you!"

73. "Sweetie, no matter what happens between us, you'll never be a mistake to me because there's no way I could ever stop loving you."

74. "Ain't nothing wrong with crying and snotting and drooling all over the place, sweetheart. Gotta let all that shit out so your heart don't have to carry all that hurt."

75. "I don't want you getting lost in the crowd so I guess you can hold my hand or whatever."

76. "I didn't buy extra food for you! I just happen to redeem my points on the night you were coming over... that's all."

77. "God save us all. I think your brother went to fix the fridge again."

78. No one could have survived that, yet he fervently rubbed his dear friend's hands and face, hoping that the pinkish blush color would return.

79. "Daffodils, honey, pine, and nectar, but the sweetest of them all is something that cannot be replicated, duplicated, or copied: you."

80. "I'm most afraid that, in my mind, you will be nothing more than a distant, flittering memory."

81. "Promise me! You must promise me that, in another life or another time, you'll find me again."

82. And then I was given a choice: love or reason.

83. "Why am I still a monster if she loved me?"

84. "My heart doesn't flutter for you anymore."

85. "Stay by my side... please."

86. The rumble of the bus lulled them to sleep, their hairs tickling my neck as they slowly drifted to my shoulder and to the land of dreams.

87. "You don't understand! There is- no, there must be something wrong with me, fundamentally... otherwise I'm, I'm just a terrible person for no reason."

88. "I want you to make me just another lovely memory for you to look back on. Can you do that for me, love?"

89. "The taste of your lips left me breathless."

90. "What good are my eyes if not to soak in the magnificence that is you?"

91. "Countless times I've poured my heart onto paper, proclaiming the absolute passion in my heart for you, but it always ends with me waking up."

92. "It breaks my heart to see that I haven't got yours while, at first sight, you've stolen mine."

93. "You are a beautiful candle flame for your warmth and comfort is something I can never grasp."

94. "I, normally, am eloquent, well spoken, among many other things, but, around you, I've become speechless."

95. "An anchor to the ship in my mind, you've become more than a friend in my eyes."

96. "Days, or months, or years have passed. I cannot tell you which for even a minute without you is eternity."

97. "I feel like I'm floating with you."

98. "You may not deserve someone to love, but am I not deserving to love you?"

99. "Even when you think you've hit rock bottom, and everyone's left you, I'll always be there."

100. "It was tough, huh? I'm so proud you got through the thick of it."

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - The First Year

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies.

Chapters will have additional warning when necessary.

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

//////////////////////////////////

Part I - The First Year

Hogwarts will be fun was the first thought you had when you opened the letter in your hands.

Tony, your older brother, ruffled your hair slightly as he came down into the kitchen and watched you open the mail.

"Your letter finally arrived, huh, little witch?" He joked with a smile as he sat down at the table. 

"I can't wait to go!" You commented excitedly rereading the acceptance letter for the third time.

"Miss, after coffee, can we go to diagonal alley if you like?" Jarvis, your butler, asked you politely as he poured Tony's coffee making you hesitate slightly. Tony, who had his eye on you, forced a smile as he patted you on the arm.

"I'll go with you, don't worry." He assured and you nodded.

"I wish dad would come." You grumble as you sit down and Tony sighs.

" Yeah, me too." He says. "But you know he's busy, and we can't leave it to the last minute."

You mumble in agreement as you serve some sweetbreads on your plate.

Eating in silence for a few moments, you are startled slightly when Tony lets out an exclamation.

"Damn, I forgot to write back to Steve." He announces getting up and walking over to the next shelf where there were some stationery and pen.

"Your boyfriend will be upset." You tease lightly, and Tony mumbles softly without responding.

When he finishes writing the letter, he goes to the kitchen window and opens the metal, whistling loudly in a familiar rhythm. A few seconds later, Iron, his barn owl lands in front of him. Tony stroked the animal gently before dangling the letter in his paws.

" Please take this to Steve, Iron." He ordered and the animal made a noise before flying away again.

"Jarvis, I'll get ready to go." You tell the man as soon as you finish eating and head off toward the stairs.

//-//

Diagonal Alley is a noisy place.

Tony asked you to walk beside him, but you stopped walking at the first Quidditch shop you spotted, and he had to turn back halfway when he noticed you were no longer beside him.

"Don't do that." He warned, mildly annoyed, but you glazed over at the exposed broom in front of you, and he let out a chuckle when he noticed. "Come on, Y/N, you already have a broom."

"But that's no ordinary broom." You retorted with an impressed look. "It's a Nimbus 2000, it's the fastest broom there is."

"You have the 99, I don't understand the difference." He retorted with his hands in his pockets and you shrugged.

"Tony, can we buy it?" You asked pleadingly, making your brother laugh slightly.

"Let's buy your stuff first please" He retorted with a smile and you grumbled but accepted the arm he offered for you to hang on. Jarvis walked behind you with a keen eye on your surroundings.

After you had bought the vast majority of your supplies and replenished your stocks of potions items for Tony, Jarvis took you to Blossoms and Blurbs to buy this year's books.

"Good morning! Hogwarts, third and first year books, please." You heard Jarvis tell the clerk who approached you three. Tony nodded his head signaling you to feel free to walk around the bookstore in the meantime, and that is exactly what you did.

You found many interesting books in the place as you walked among the shelves. One in particular caught your attention, as there seemed to be little miniature magical creatures trying to jump out of the cover, and you grabbed it on a table, watching the item carefully.

You smiled when an ink dragon jumped into your hand, moving your head as if you were looking around. Distracted by the book, you let out a low exclamation when someone bumped into you.

"Sorry, kid." You heard a female voice speak in a humorous tone. It is a girl taller than you, short red hair. "I ended up tripping over some of those runner books."

"It's okay." You said with a smile. The girl looked at the one book in your hands for a moment.

"Do you enjoy creature tracts?" She asks casually as she reaches for a book on the bookshelf beside her.

"I don't know yet." You say and she looks at you slightly confused, "I never studied."

"Ah, first-year." She understands and you nod in agreement. "Hogwarts too or some other?"

"Hogwarts." 

"Cool, I guess I'll see you there then." She says. "I'm from Slytherin, third year."

You let out a surprised exclamation.

"Maybe you know my brother." You say and the girl takes her gaze from the books in her hand she was checking to look at you with her eyebrow raised in curiosity. "His name is Tony Stark, he's also from your house."

The girl lets out a short laugh.

"I can't believe you are Stark's sister." She says. "We're not exactly friends, but I've seen him around the dorm several times. And your brother is a pain in the ass, by the way."

You laugh lightly, agreeing.

"I am Natasha Romanoff." She introduces herself next, balancing her books in one hand to greet you. You introduce yourself with a gentle smile. "Good luck with your books." She says before turning away.

You think it's cool that you already know someone besides your brother before you start at Hogwarts.

//-//

Buying your wand is a rather strange experience.

Mr. Ollivander has a glint in his eye as if he knows everyone's secrets, and seems to disappear and reappear in his store very easily.

Tony sat on one of the stools while he waited for you, and Jarvis went to buy something for you two to eat.

After trying almost five wands, and exploding a glass vase when he tried the last one, Mr. Ollivander sighed.

"Sorry, I don't know why it's not working." You asked feeling nervous, but he smiled.

"Don't worry, dear." He said. "Difficult customers are so much fun." 

He walked back in between the shelves after that, and then reappeared with three new packages.

"I remember when Howard Stark bought his wand." He told smiling nostalgically as you opened one of the packages, a black wand in front of you. "Phoenix, Cedar, slightly flexible."

"Dad has changed wands thousands of times." Added Tony wryly, but Mr. Ollivander didn't seem to mind.

The wand you tested let out a faint spark when you tried to cast a simple conjuration spell, and the man in front of you was quick to take it from your hand the next second.

"I think I have a better idea." He announced turning around, and then climbed the ladder supported by the wall, picking up a package at the top.

"Try this one dear." He asked handing you a dark wand, the wood was shiny, a color you didn't know exactly what it was, but it was beautiful. 

When you grabbed the item, you felt a tingling sensation spread throughout your hand, and the wand vibrated slightly for a few seconds, causing Ollivander to let out a noise of excitement.

"You see, I knew I would find an owner for you dear." He spoke and you realized that he was speaking with the item in your hands. Soon he turned his gaze back to you. "Take good care of this one, will you, it was quite difficult to get dark elf blood for the core."

"R-right." You said with a slight frown, not quite sure what to make of that information.

Tony laughed lightly at the interaction, he should be used to Mr. Ollivander's eccentric manner by now, since he kept breaking his wands just like your father and often returned to the store to get a new one.

After paying, you and Tony met Jarvis outside, he was carrying some sweet rolls.

//-//

July ended too quickly for your happiness. You were very eager to go to school.

You spent most of August at home, playing quidditch with Tony in the backyard, curiously reading the magic books you bought, and trying to peek into the basement where your father worked, but he always caught you looking and smiled, asking you to go back to your room.

You would like your father to take you to the station, but he said he had a magic conference in September, and would be traveling for the next few weeks. Tony was upset, but he put his arm around your shoulders and asked you to hurry to get your bags.

When you finally got to the station, you were slightly nervous about going through a wall, but Tony laughed, and showed you how to go first.

You hugged Jarvis good-bye before following your brother along the way.

Tony dragged you across the train cars to the first empty cabin he could find. He commented that it would be nice if you made your own friends, but that he would like you to sit with him.

So here you were, sitting with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, Tony's best friends since the first year. The boys smiled encouragingly at you. You already knew them, because Tony kept inviting them to spend holidays with him all the time.

"Hey, Y/N, how was your vacation?" Steve asked as soon as you sat down next to him. You shrugged, saying that it was nice, but that you were looking forward to attending Hogwarts.

Soon the boys started talking about what they were excited about next year, and you did your best to keep up, not knowing exactly who the people they mentioned were, or knowing the classes they talked about.

Many minutes after the train was moving, a girl opened the cabin door.

"Hey, strangers." She greeted with a smile. 

"Hi Peggy." Steve said with a smile, you frowned at the slight scowl on your brother's face.

"They're calling for us in the prefects compartment, Steve." She warned and Steve nodded, getting up. He and the girl then left, and Tony crossed his arms.

"What's wrong?" You asked noticing his posture and the way Bucky had a little smile on his face.

"It's nothing." Grumbled your brother, and as he turned his face to the window, Bucky who was standing in front of you, whispered to you.

"Tony thinks Peggy likes Steve." He recounted. "So he doesn't like Peggy very much."

"Oh." You said, pretending to understand the whole plot. It didn't make much sense to you because everyone couldn't be friends, but you figured that when you were your brother's age you would understand better.

//-//

The Hogwarts Express only stopped at night.

Properly uniformed, you smiled when your brother patted you on the shoulder, telling you that he would meet you at the castle, since the first-year students had to go by boat.

Your hands were sweating a little as you walked up to the extraordinarily tall man who introduced himself as Drax.

"First-year students, please, six in each boat." He shouted to the crowd, and the students moved closer together.

You sat in one of the first little boats, five other children you didn't know surrounding you.

"I'm so excited." A blonde girl commented cheerfully, waving her hands. She smiled at everyone as she introduced herself as "Harley Quinn". 

"I bet you''ll blow something up once we get there, Harley" Added a redheaded girl sitting next to you, you could tell by her tone that they were probably friends. The blonde, Harley, laughed.

"Shut up, Ivy." She said, and then Drax was back, climbing into one of the boats beside her. He checked the boats one last time, then waved his hand, and the transports began to move.

Everyone, including you, let out a chorus of excitement.

When you noticed the castle, you smiled. It was huge, and just as amazing as Tony used to tell you. 

"Wow, it must be amazing to fly over all that." You quietly observed, and the girl next to you turned her head in your direction, smiling.

"Do you like flying?" She asked, and you nodded. She looked at you for a moment and then held out her hand to greet you. "I am Diana. Diana Prince."

"Hi, Diana." You said introducing yourself next. "Do you also like to fly?"

"I love it." She says. "I hope i can make it onto the team."

"I don't know if the first-years have any chance, but I'll be rooting for you." You assure, and Diana smiles.

When the boats stop in the harbor, the students are all excited to get out and see the castle, but Drax's almost intimidating posture makes everyone properly behaved.

He leads the crowd to the staircase, and then there is a lobby. There is a woman waiting for everyone, her strict posture makes you think she is someone you wouldn't want to upset.

"Welcome to Hogwarts." She announces. "I am Professor Okoye, head of Gryffindor house."

The students exchange burbles next, but the teacher's gaze shuts them up almost immediately.

"As long as you are here, your houses will be like your families." She continues. "Your triumphs will earn you points, and if you break any rules, those points will be taken away." 

She says, casting a disapproving glance at one of the students in the corner, who giggled. "In a few moments we will begin the sorting hat ceremony."

The teacher then turns around, heading toward a large bronze door, and talking to someone on the other side. You hear someone laughing near you, and you turn your head to the side in curiosity.

It was a blond boy, and he seemed to be enjoying himself as he balanced one of the gold cups he picked up from the surrounding shelves. You thought he would be in trouble if he knocked it over, and this seemed to be exactly the same opinion as the girl next to him, who was looking at him disapprovingly.

"Stop being an idiot, Peter, put that back." She complained and he laughed, shrugging.

"Gamora, you're a spoilsport you know." He retorted and when he put the cup back, it spun and fell to the floor, breaking into several pieces. The boy turned pale as Teacher Okoye turned her head in his direction.

You rolled your eyes, walking over to them.

"Reparo" You said drawing your wand as you pointed at the broken object. Some children let out impressed exclamations when they saw the bowl form again, but you just put your wand away in shame. It was no big deal. Okoye caught up with the three of you next, looking reproachfully at the boy.

"I expect better behavior during the ceremony, sir..."

"Quill"

"Mister Quill." She completed and took one last look at the boy that had with his head down before turning back to the front of the crowd again, waving for the students to follow her.

"Hey, that was pretty cool." Peter commented beside you as you walked. You shrugged, focusing on the path.

//-//

The sorting hat was something exceptional.

Tony never told you how the choice was made, and you knew it was only to annoy you. He had sometimes joked that the students faced each other in a duel, and even though you told him to shut up, you had a look at his spell book before you came.

The actual ceremony was much simpler, however.

When it was your turn to climb onto the small stool, you bit your lips, hoping that everything would go smoothly. Just as the old cloth of the hat fell over your eyes, blocking your view of the rest of the hall, you heard a voice in your head.

" Hello, dear, no need to be so nervous." Announced the hat gently. "You are a curious little thing, I see."

"Is that a good thing?" You thought, and the hat chuckled lightly.

"It might be." He said mysteriously. "Interesting what I see here. Very interesting."

"What are you seeing?"

"Your memories, dear."

"Oh." You thought, feeling slightly embarrassed. That seemed like an intrusion of your privacy. The hat laughed again, and you remembered that he was on your head.

"You're hard to sort out." He says, and you squeeze the stool. "Don't worry, I'm not going to send you home, that's not how it works."

"Oh, right."

Hat was silent a few moments. 

"I see courage in your heart." He says and you try to remember the characteristics of the houses. "But that courage is well forged with your loyalty."

You swallow dryly, feeling your anxiety rising. This was definitely taking much longer than the people who went before you.

"You are as smart as your father and brother, both members of the Slytherin house." He says.  "There's a willingness not to let them down."

"That's personal." You grumble feeling your cheeks flush, but the hat doesn't care to apologize for bringing up your insecurities.

"Ah, this is interesting here. A pure kindness, yet pruned in your origins of shallow paternal affection”.

You frown, not understanding what he is saying.

"You are quite adaptable child, it has always been one of your best virtues." The hat remarks, and you get the impression that the next part is only said for you. "Tell me, where would you like to stay?"

"Isn't that your job?" You retort in thought, and hear him laugh again. You rush to correct yourself, not wanting to be rude. "Sorry, hat. I don't really know. I'd like to stay where I fit in best."

"You would do well anywhere." He retorts, and you frown. "And that's pretty impressive, you know. I haven't met another hatstall since the last century."

You swallow dryly, not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I'll work hard, sir." You tell him. "I don't want people to think I'm a special witch just because of my family. That's something I'm sure, I don't know if it helps you choose."

Hat lets out a sigh of relief.

"Actually, that's exactly what I needed."

It takes a moment for him to speak again, and when he does, you feel your whole body shake.

"Hufflepuff"

//-//

Steve Rogers is the head boy of Hufflepuff and he celebrates excitedly when you sit down at the table next to him.

"That's so cool" He comments. "I'll be able to tease Tony all year about it."

After that, director Agatha Harkness, made the announcement of the beginning of the year. If her goal was to scare the students, she succeeded when she talked about the deadly dangers surrounding the forbidden forest and the punishments for the disobedient. Professor Strange interrupted her speech as he cleared his throat, awkwardly waving for Agatha to stop saying such things, and the woman giggled. 

Dinner is delicious, and then you are following the crowd of students into the communal rooms. 

"Butterbeer" Steve said to the portrait on the wall, and you blinked in surprise when the painting moved to the side, a door behind.

You sighed when you realized how cozy the Hufflepuff's common room was.

"Everyone please come in." Asked Steve in the center of the room, waving to the students who stayed behind. When everyone was around him, he smiled. "The dorms are divided by gender, but you can sleep wherever you feel most comfortable. I will only suggest that none of you try to sleep with the seventh graders, because they are scary." Steve joked making the crowd laugh lightly. "We have a supply of food in those lockers, just in case you feel like having a snack in the early morning, outside of the permitted hours for walking around the castle." He continues and stands thoughtfully for a few moments. "Most of the things you need to know are on the bulletin board on that wall, and you can also ask me anything you want. Your belongings have already been taken to the free beds, but if you want any help, you can organize among yourselves or just come talk to me."

Steve smiled as the crowd moved. You headed in the direction where he said the rooms were.

//-//

You let out a surprised exclamation as something landed on your head.

"Damn, sorry!" Asked an asian girl approaching you, and pulling the small being out of your hair as you entered the room. "Groot, I told you to behave yourself."

"I am groot." Grumbled the little creature. You looked at it wide-eyed, impressed.

"Wow, is that a tree?"

The girl laughed, putting the small creature sitting on her shoulder, sitting on the bed next to the one you identified as having your things.

"Yes and no." She said. "I found Groot in my garden over the vacations, and well, I don't know what he is exactly. But I think he was trying to make my mother's plants grow."

"He's really cute." You commented approaching with your finger extended. Groot smiled, accepting your touch.

"I am Mantis." Says the girl next and you smile at her as you introduce yourself. "We're going to be roommates."

"Yes, and so is Groot." You add as you take off your cape to throw on the bed that would be yours.

After eating so well at dinner, it doesn't take long for you to fall asleep. 

You dream of glowing green eyes and a red light, but you don't recognize them or understand what it means, and when you wake up, you no longer remember.

//-//

Two weeks since you started at Hogwarts, you are used to how eccentric everything can be.

The classes weren't as difficult as you imagined, but that's probably because you've had contact with magic all your life and always had an easy time learning things. All the teachers were unique in their own way. 

Professor Rocket, for example, taught Transfiguration and spent almost the entire period transfigured into a raccoon, even outside of class hours. He was temperamental and got irritated very easily when students talked too much in his class, so it was not recommended to do so.

There was also Professor Fury, who had an eye patch as a mandatory piece in his daily costume, and all the students spent more time trying to guess how this happened, than listening to his explanations of defense spells against the dark art.

Your astronomy class on Wednesdays was taught by Professor Odin, who like to claim that he was a descendant of the Olympian gods, but no one believed him. He was also the father of two of your classmates, Thor and Loki Odinson, who were the exact opposite of each other. While Thor was warm and friendly, Loki was cold and reclusive, plus the former was from Gryffindor and the other from Slytherin. Surprisingly, you liked them both. 

You ended up meeting the head of your house only on the second day.  

Professor Heimdall taught Divination, so you wouldn't have any classes with him until the third year.You bumped into him when you were late for fifth period and had to run to the common room for your Potions books, and almost fell on the floor when you turned the corner without looking and the professor was there.  He prevented you from falling with a wave of his wand, smiling gently. 

" Forgive me." You said clumsily, feeling slightly intimidated by the yellow irises as the magic set you on your feet properly, as well as catching your books in the air and placing them in your hands again. 

"Be careful with the castle corridors, Miss Stark." Said the man, and for some reason, you thought he wasn't just talking about this little incident.

"Professor Heimdall, let's talk in a private place, please."  Asked Professor Okoye, who was standing at his side, she looked at you with a certain disapproval, and you couldn't tell whether it was because of your intrusion, or the fact that your tie was hanging loosely around your neck, in addition to the open buttons on your shirt.

After this little incident, you asked Steve who Professor Heimdall was, and he explained that he was the head of Hufflepuff, and might seem intimidating at first glance, but that he was very kind.

But so far, the professor who has intrigued you the most was Professor Erik Lehnsherr, who taught Potions. He didn't say anything that wasn't related to the subject, didn't make any comments about behavior or events at school. And he had such a stern and mysterious look in his eyes that no student had the courage to ask him anything. You heard Peter Quill make a bet with Thor Odinson that Professor Erik was unable to smile because of some particular sorcery, but you thought it best not to laugh, especially since Mr. Lehnsherr was looking at your direction.

When you had your first Potions period with Slytherin, after herbology professor T'Challa needed to reschedule classes for an appointment, you were surprised to discover that professor Lehnsherr had children.

Gamora ended up on the same bench as you, and she was talking to her sister, Nebula, about an incident that occurred in their dormitory.

"Clearly, the professors' children have an easy time getting away with punishment." Nebula bitterly remarked, and you frowned in confusion. 

"I don't think it was the girl's fault." Gamora retorted as she put the ingredients into her cauldron. She looked at you quickly, realizing that you were listening to the conversation, but she didn't scold you, she just kept stirring the mixture.

"What happened?" you asked next, and Nebula looked at you with mild irritation. She seemed about to tell you to mind your own business, but Gamora smiled, moving closer to whisper to you.

"A girl lost her temper in the Slytherin dorm bathrooms last night." She told. "She's a second year, her name is Wanda Maximoff. She and her brother are Professor Lehnsherr's kids, and everyone is saying that she didn't go to detention because of it."

Your jaw dropped, impressed. 

"I can't believe Magneto has children." You said making Gamora and Nebula laugh at the nickname. Last week you found out that the school had been calling Erik that since he stopped the hall chandelier from falling on the teachers' desk two years ago when he used non-verbal magic to attract the metal, and everyone started calling him that behind his back. Tony told you and you liked the story.

"I know right, he seems so self-contained." Gamora remarked looking back briefly. Professor Erik was focused on his own potions book.

"That noisy kid from Gryffindor said he's married." Nebula added next and Gamora laughed lightly.

"Peter Quill?"

"Yes."

"Wow, that's surprising." Says the girl. You both return to stirring your cauldrons in silence after that little conversation.

When you have finished your mixing, Professor Erik gives Hufflepuff five points for your good work, and you smile with red cheeks.

"You're nice." Nebula suddenly said beside you as you were leaving the room. Gamora stood next to her. "Do you want to walk around with us?"

"We're already walking." You joked and Gamora laughed unlike her sister who grimaced.

"Yep, definitely cool." She added. "Do you want to have lunch with us?"

"At your table or mine?"

Gamora and Nebula exchanged glances.

"I'm not sitting with Hufflepuff." Nebula declared and you sighed, rolling your eyes.

"You know I'm from Hufflepuff, right?"

"I'm reconsidering the invitation." She retorted and you frowned, but Gamora smiled at you.

"Will you sit with us, please?"

You sighed, nodding in agreement. You could talk to Tony after all.

//-//

Lunch at the Slytherin table became an everyday thing after that day. It took two weeks for Mantis to start joining you, and then you realized that you had a small group of friends now.

At Christmas, neither you nor Tony came home, because your father was working and you didn't want to be alone in the Stark mansion. You ended up turning down Tony's invitation to spend Christmas with Steve Rogers and his family, because you weren't really friends with Steve. Tony insisted, not wanting you to be alone, but you assured him that you would be fine in the company of your friends, and that he needn't worry.

On Christmas morning, Groot woke you up by jumping on your face. You laughed lightly because he was so small that he was like a tickle, and stood up as you returned the little creature to Mantis' bedside table.

A few hours later, as you were opening your presents at the Slytherin table along with Gamora, Nebula, Mantis, and Peter Quill, who had also stayed at Hogwarts for the end of the year, you let out an excited exclamation.

"I can' believe it." You spoke, opening the package in front of you. It was a large box, it was bewitched and only revealed the actual wrapping once you tore the paper off. It was actually a broom.

"Wow, that's cool." Peter remarked as he looked at your present. 

That's how you ended up in the middle of the snow, testing your new broom while your friends cheered and celebrated below you.

"Are you sure you can fly?" You asked Peter as soon as he asked you if he could ride. He shrugged, smiling.

You and the girls watched as he controlled the broom for a few feet above the ground, and then he overspeeded it and sped away.

You all ran into his direction, while the broom seemed almost annoyed at his lack of control, and knocked him into a tree. Peter fell between the branches, onto someone who was resting under it.

When you all reached him, you frowned when there was a boy pushing Quill.

"Watch it, dude!" Warned the boy, but before you could say anything, Gamora was already stepping forward, wand in hand.

"It was just an accident." She said and the boy looked at her surprised with her wand outstretched. He crossed his arms however, not looking scared.

"Oh, you're going to spell me now, are you?" He teased.

"Piss off, Maximoff." Warned Nebula next, taking a step beside her sister. So this was Pietro Maximoff. You figured that confidence should come from being the son of one of the professors.

"I suggest you leave my brother alone." Warned a voice behind you. You turned next, only to catch sight of a girl with brown hair, green eyes that glittered with anger. 

Gamora clenched her jaw, and Nebula drew her own wand toward the girl, who also had her wand in her hands.

You sighed, raising your hands as you stood in the line of fire.

"Would everyone please calm down?" You asked. "It was just a misunderstanding, and the broom is mine anyway, no need to fight about it."

It takes a moment, but Gamora puts down her wand, and everyone follows her after that. She has an insinuating smile on her face.

"You really are a Hufflepuff, aren't you Stark?" She teases, and you laugh sheepishly, putting your hands in your pockets.  "Come on Quill." 

Gamora warns and the boy shoots Pietro an ugly look as he leaves. You accept your broom that he hands to you, and turn around, your gaze meeting that of the girl who is supposed to be Wanda Maximoff for a moment. You feel your face heat up at the intensity of the angry look, and you look away, following your friends.

//-//

The months went by quickly as the rest of the school year passed. You managed to do very well on the exams, and didn't get involved in any near-fights again.

When the year ended and the Hufflepuff didn't win the House Cup, you thought you should have been more upset, but you didn't mind having Gamora and Nebula celebrating beside you, laughing and hugging you excitedly.

You also didn't understand why you felt your stomach turn when you caught Wanda Maximoff smiling amidst the Slytherin celebration when you looked around.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself. 

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence,  now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A  beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.” 

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.  

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition. 

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

[kookicat]

A Gift of Telling & Trust

Nate's words fade away and for a moment, they're all quiet, absorbing the story. There's a sheen in Sophie's eyes that looks suspiciously like tears, and Parker has curled into Hardison's side, resting her head on his shoulder. He's got one arm around her, thumb rubbing absent circles on her side.

Eliot clears his throat, feeling just a little self conscious, and downs the last of his long neck before he speaks. "Before… Before my Mom died," he starts, voice soft, reflective, because it's been a while since he dug up the memories, and he's not sure how they're going to make him feel. "I was twelve, Erin was ten. Mom had been wanting a puppy for a couple of years, and one of my friend's farm dogs was having a litter." He smiles at the memory and glances up, seeing everyone's eyes on him. He's not sure why, but it feels comfortable, and he feels the smile get a bit bigger. "They were seven weeks old on Christmas eve, all bitty black and white things. Only one girl, and we picked her and snuck her in the house. We'd saved up our allowance to buy food and such. She slept on my bed, and we put a bow on her and took her downstairs at the crack of dawn." He pauses, accepting a fresh bottle from Hardison, giving the label a quick check to make sure the other man isn't slipping him one of his weird brews. He's not sure he'll ever cleanse his senses of the last one- pumpkin spice and mint, for christsakes, but the bottle is one of his favourites and he twists the top off.

"What happened?" Parker asks, because she's an instant gratification sorta girl, but they're all still watching him, waiting for the end of the story.

"Well Mom fell instantly in love," he says, lip quirking into a smile, "Dad took some convincing, threatened to take the belt to me but I'm pretty sure he was smitten too."

The end of the story isn't so happy, and he's not sure he wants to tell it and break the spell. "They were inseparable. Mom named her Dodie."

"101 Dalmatians? I loved that book." Sophie asks, and he glances at her, nodding.

"What happened to her?" Parker leans forward to poke him and he bats her hand away, gently.

Part of him wants to lie and tell them a happy ending, but life doesn't work that way. "She was in the truck with my Mom when a drunk driver ran them off the road. They hit a tree. Both killed instantly," he says, and his voice only cracks a little.

It's a hard memory, but he's mostly made his peace with it. It's nice, too, to be able to remember his family and share that with his new one.

Sophie presses her hand against his arm. "I'm sorry, Eliot. I had no idea."

He covers her hand with his own, for a beat. "It's okay. Thank you."

Another memory sneaks in, one he'd all but forgotten about and he laughs, earning startled looks from the others that only make him laugh harder. It takes him a second to get control and he's pretty sure they think it's the start of a hysterical breakdown.

"I'm fine," he says, and waves his hand. "Just remembered something. My fourteenth birthday, Dad decided I was finally old enough to learn how to use the grill. Bought a big rack of ribs. Damn dog stole them from the counter. We spent half an hour chasing her around the yard but every time we got close, she'd manage to escape. I'd never seen my Dad so mad." He laughs again, then takes a swig of his beer, content to settle back into silence and just enjoy the memory.

They spend an agreeable hour, just trading bullshit stories about past jobs before they decide to call it a night.

He wakes up the next morning, more hungover than he'd ever admit, to find a black and white puppy staring at him from the other side of his bed. "What the hell?" he says and blinks, rubbing his eyes, convinced he's seeing things until a wet nose unerringly finds this side of his neck. He rolls out of bed, scooping the puppy up and heading to his living room, trying to ignore the soft brown eyes staring at him.

Just as he suspected, Parker is sleeping on his couch. The bigger surprise is that Hardison is curled up in the recliner in the corner, one arm draped over his face to block out the mid morning light. He's pretty sure it was Hardison's idea to break out the tequila. He's also pretty sure that they killed the bottle between them.

"Parker," Eliot says, trying to sound serious. It's a lot harder to do with a puppy trying to lick his face. "Parker!"

She jerks awake, and he blinks, feeling a little bad about that. "What?" she mutters, shoving her hair out of her face and stretching like a cat, all liquid grace.

"What's this?" Eliot asks, with what he feels is commendable patience, especially considering the marching band that's doing laps of his brain.

"That's a puppy," Parker says, like he's being slow.

"Yes, I know that," Eliot says through his teeth. "Why was she in my bed?" The puppy lays her head on his chest and sighs and he knows that if this gets out, he's going to have to blow up an orphanage or something to maintain his reputation.

"Because she wouldn't stay on the couch," Parker says and throws a cushion at Hardison.

The hacker jerks awake, flailing and the puppy barks. "I don't think she liked that," Hardison mutters.

"Why do I have a puppy?" Eliot asks, absently stroking the dog's head, surprised by how soft and fine her fur is. It's like silk against his skin and it feels nice. He's always liked dogs, but with the life he's lived, he's never had the chance to own one.

"Because they were going to kill her at the pound because no one had adopted her!" Parker says, just as Hardison blurts "Parker made me do it!"

Eliot rubs his face with his free hand. He's pretty sure he doesn't want to know the full story. He's also pretty sure he can't keep the puppy, no matter how darn cute she is. "Please tell me you didn't steal the puppy," he mutters and turns towards the kitchen, needing coffee and food.

He sets the puppy down, watching her as she sniffs her way around his kitchen, clearly looking for something. "You hungry, pup?" he says, and opens the fridge, pulling out a bit of roast chicken and almost losing his fingers to sharp puppy teeth. "Guess that's a yes."

He takes out the rest of the chicken, chopping it into smaller chunks before dumping it into a dish- though not one of his good ones, thank you very much-- and putting it on the floor with a bowl of water.

"We're sorry," Parker says, leaning on the door frame. "A puppy is a huge commitment and we should have checked first."

Eliot pulls the eggs from the fridge. "Have you been talking to Sophie?" he asks and sets a frying pan on to heat.

"Yes." Parker stoops, picking the puppy up and stroking her. "She did say a dog would be good for you."

Hardison joins Parker, reaching over to fuss the puppy. "I found a rescue that'll take her and make sure she gets a good home. We can drop her off later today."

The thought of handing the puppy over to someone else sends an unexpected pang through him. "You checked them properly?" Eliot asks, adding pre chopped peppers to the eggs.

"Have you met me?" Hardison says, voice full of only mostly faked offence. "Excuse you. Of course I checked them properly."

"Make some damn coffee," Eliot grouses at the other man. He's pretty sure they all know the damn puppy isn't going to any rescue. He has to admit, some nights it would be nice to come home to some non judgemental company.

"She's so cute," Parker says, sneaking a look at Eliot under her lashes. "Maybe I'll keep her."

Parker is proficient at many things, including keeping Parker alive but he's seen what she does to house plants and the thought of her being responsible for a living creature sends a stab of alarm through Eliot. Hardison is sharing the same thought, if the look in his face is any indication.

"Fine," Eliot snaps and portions the eggs with more force than strictly necessary. "She can stay here!"

He knows he's been caught neatly in a trap when Parker turns to Hardison, grinning. "Told you," she says and ducks when Eliot throws a dish towel at her head.

[1magine-engine]

Obey Me: MC is Hiding Something

When MC first awakens in the council room no one thinks much of them. They’re sitting there shivering like a dog left out in the rain and refuses to meet anyone’s eyes.

Lucifer starts to wonder what in devil’s name made you a good candidate for this exchange program. You barely had enough courage to answer when Lord Diavolo welcomed you so graciously, much less look dignified in any way.

Something odd he does observe though is, despite your silence and obvious terror, you seemed to accept the concepts of a Devildom and of RAD and him and his brother very easily or maybe you were just nodding along insipidly.

Mammon’s opinion of you is even lower. He already hated the idea of having to watch and make sure some stupid human didn’t get themselves killed on their first week. Damn it! That wasn’t his job! They can’t even carry a conversation, always just staring and watching everybody.

The human doesnt seem to have any kind of motivations or idea as to what they wanna do. Lucifer will never know if he leaves you alone at school for a while considering you’ve found your friends group with the other exchange students. And at home he sees no problem with letting you go off for just an hour or two. All you really do is walk around and examine the rooms and grounds. Maybe you’re an architecture freak or something.

Leviathan barely pays you any mind when you arrive, not like he ever has the chance to, being that he never leaves his room outside of going to class. But during breakfast he does notice how interested you seemed in the game console he’s playing on. And for a moment he wonders if you’re a gamer or an otaku too

but no, ugh you’re just some normie. You watch Asmo obsess over his compact mirror and Satan over whatever book he’s holding just the same. And you’re conversation is shit like Mammon said. Listless and lacking enthusiasm. But he doesnt stop you when you watch over his shoulder when he plays.

Satan doesn’t have a problem with you. That said, he doesn’t particularly like you. But he can respect how much time you seem to spend in the library, and how many books you borrow about the devildom and kinds of demons. It made sense, you wanted to know the kind of creatures you were surrounded by.

he does wonder though, why one day you seem to be borrowing a lot of Solomon’s books and Solomon’s time as well. But then again, that makes sense too, you were both human after all. Maybe you would stop flinching and get even a little more comortable with someone your race around. When one of his tomes disappear, he interrogates Mammon because of course, it’s Mammon.

Asmo likes your style. It’s not particularly glamorous or eye-catching but it matches your aesthetic. He especially admired your choices in acessories. The amulet you’re always wearing is so pretty and he swears sometimes it almost glows. And your rings were peak Devildom fashion, sharp, edgy iron designs. But he especially adored the silver spike earring you wore.

He was both delighted and smug that he was the first one to get a little closer to you. But of course, how could you resist! You even complimented the perfume he was wearing and asked where he got it. And he directed you to his favorite oils and essences shop that supplied products and ingredients from every realm. And while applying some to your wrist he catches a glimpse of a tattoo peeking out from under your sleeve but you pull your hand away, bashful. Oh, he’ll get you to show him someday. Heehee.

Beel is curious how a human can eat so much. He’s been told human athletes apparently eat a lot to maintain muscle mass and strength and the like but looking at you, you didn’t seem the type to do anything strenuous. Except he does notice that when a demon bumps you in the hall, you’re not hurt or thrown off despite the size difference. And when you’re purposely knocked into by someone else, your reaction is fast, pivoting out of the way and behind the demon and you almost look like...

Nah. You weren’t going to attack him, you began to cower and apologize again and again until Mammon had to drag you way before it got any more embarrassing. The next time you pique his interest is at the gym in the house. You always make sure to go at a time when there isn’t anyone else and he happened to go after you. But it couldn’t have been you that just used that machine. Were you really capable of lifting that much?

Luke and Simeon are sympathetic, Simeon understands the discomfort and the adjustment and answers any questions you have about the brothers and how not to piss them off or placate them if ever you did make them angry. He answers your questions about RAD and the program but does wonder. Wherever did you get an angel relic like the one hanging from your ear?

Luke says you shouldn’t be afraid of those no good demons, if anything happens you can run to Purgatory Hall and they’ll help. He promises. He likes your company and starts up baking with you, teaching dishes and pastries. He tells you a lot about Michael and lets slip things about Lucifer and the brothers back when they were still angels. You don’t push him on the subjects but you do seem pretty interested.

it all came together, very easily. First the lights, Leviathan’s screams echo in the halls as he laments not having saved soon enough. Asmodeus’ whining about losing such good selfie lighting came next and both come out into the hall, yelling for their older brother. “Lucifer!”

If not for that, Lucifer probably wouldn’t have noticed, having been locked up in his firelit office since dinner was over. Heaving a sigh he gets up. All of the yelling told him the lights were out so how could he have expected the brilliant flash of white that burned his eyes when he opened his door. He stumbles, leaning on the door frame for support as footfalls race down the hall.

He growls, feeling his wings and horns materialize but something isn’t right. His vision doesn’t return and his skin starts to burn. In the air he catches the faintest scent of something he hasn’t smelled in a long time. Holy oil.

When the little light in the fridge fades, Beel thinks he may have fucked up. But then it turns out the whole house is out so it must just be some prank. He keeps eating, uncaring whether or not he identifies what it is he’s shoveling into his mouth. Then he smells it.

once upon a time he’d caught Luke with some kind of cookies from the celestial realm. And they were some of the best cookies he’d ever had in his existence. He could never forget that smell, so when it wafts through the air coming from the main hall, he follows. Drool begins to gather beneath his tongue.

He misses the sharp, metallic scent drifting beneath it.

Satan’s vexation spikes when his reading light goes out and his peace and quiet is distrubed by his idiot brothers. Mammon probably tried to turn the power off in Levi’s room to get him out so he can sneak in and steal his stuff again. But then Asmo starts yelling, and one cry from Lucifer rattles his bones.

It’s enough to get him on his feet. But what draws a gasp from him is the flash of lightning that gives him his sight for a moment. White lightning, an impossibility in the devildom’s ever red tinged sky. He goes to the window, knocking a stack of tomes over and unlatches it. But it doesn’t budge. Using the light on his D.D.D. he tries again but it just won’t open.

Outside Satan’s door heavy footsteps, thump along in a slow rhythm. Satan races to the door and Beel is there trudging along the carpet like a zombie, his nose perched in the air.

“Beel?! What the-? What are you doing?”

“Hey what’s the big idea!? Where are you guys!? Who’s doing that weird singing?!”

Mammon calls out into the mansions, just as confused as everyone else. Satan’s brows furrow; he didn’t cause this, then. He’s about to answer but Mammon yelps, and a resounding thwack has Satan grab Beel, and race towards the sound, almost stumbling over each other’s feet in the dark. They’re only guide is the ocassional flash of white and the sound of chanting growing louder as they grow near.

It is still pitch black but years of experience and spatial awareness tells him they’re in the foyer. Satan ventures out, almost tripping over something on the ground; it’s Mammon. He lays at the top of the steps, passed out. Satan is about to shake him awake when Leviathan and Asmo come out of a hall holding up Lucifer between them. Another flash. Lucifer’s demon form flickers in and out, smoke rising from his blistering skin. Satan freezes and Beel picks up Mammon in his arms.

“Satan! What the hell is going on!?” Levi calls out into the dark over the spell.

The chanting stops. So does the lightning and they’re plunged into complete darkness. They hear the sound of plastic and a baggie hits Beelzebub square in the chest, landing on Mammon’s stomach. “Cookies?”

He smells that first but then they recognise the other scent prominent in the air as blood.

Human blood.

“Wait, where’s MC?!” Asmo’s voice comes from the black. “Are they trapped somewhere?”

Someone laughs.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that.”

Lightning flashes again, bathing the foyer in glaring white. It’s only for a moment but their eyes are quick enough. It becomes clear where the stench of blood was coming from. “After all, I’m not trapped in here with you...”

Your eyes seem to glow, vacant of whatever fear or trepidation you’ve deceived them with for weeks. In your hand is the earring Asmo admired so much, the silver tip dripping red. At your side, your palm is sliced open, already clotting as you’ve used all you needed for the seal activating the devil’s trap around the entire house. Your sleeves are pushed up to the elbows the sigils and signs inked into your skin tasting air again after so long. As you place your hand on the seal they come alight. Your lips curl over your teeth.

“You’re trapped in here....with me.”

Solomon knows a demon slayer when he sees one. And he tells you right off the bat whatever you’re planning it isn’t a good idea. You’re outnumbered and overpowered by them.

but then he sees otherworldly magic light up the skies and decides maybe it’s a good time to visit the House of Lamentations.

Part 2

[nightowlwriting]

summary: you've always known there's a soulmate on the other end of your injuries. when you're working the victory pit during the harvest close festival, though, it's the furthest thing from your mind. ironically, it's the closest mollymauk has ever been to you.

word count: 4.0k

warnings: canon level violence, mentions of molly activating his swords, canon level allusions to war and corruption

title credit: the steve miller band

note: takes place during episodes 17/18, requested from the soulmate abc list: damage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body (cuts, bruises and all).

masterlist - request - support my work? - ao3

Throughout your childhood, you’ve been called blessed. It started with bruises and scuffs. Little things that are perfectly normal for a child to receive and not remember. The problem with your bruises and scuffs was that they were not your own. When you grew into your celestially gifted powers, it started to make more sense.

Your family had stories of soulmates bestowed upon their clerics, but it wasn’t something that had happened in many generations. Nobody was really concerned until the wounds you received from your soulmate began getting worse - deeper, taking longer to heal, more life-threatening. It worried you, and your family, but it pressed you to become a better cleric. To find your source of power and lean into it. You heal yourself each night before bed, hoping that you’re giving some sort of comfort to the person you’re connected to. Even if you have no energy spells, you pull a pearl you were gifted when you left your hometown and press your lips to it and let it fill you with the love and warmth of life and still heal yourself. It’s your nightly ritual and, since you’ve started doing it, you haven’t missed it once.

Except once, but really that doesn’t matter because of how you miss it. It’s the Harvest’s End festival and the Victory Pit, and you’ve been conscripted to work it. You hate working for the Crown, but it pays well and allows you to help people. Your clerical skills and magic get used every day and you help the people that really need help. Still, the inevitable war looming over the Empire worries you. You’re skilled for your age, more so than the other clerics who perhaps have years over you, and War Clerics don’t have the longest life expectancy. After the last time that your soulmate died, and the grief and pain it inflicted upon you, you don’t want to do that to them. You try not to think about the several times you’ve felt their death and resurrections, though, because it worries you.

Most of all, it tells you very important information about them. They’re some sort of adventurer, best case scenario. The worst case, though, is that they’re a criminal. Regardless, you’ve become fond of them. The cuts don’t really hurt as much anymore, but they still pucker and scar when you heal them at night. There have been a few times when you’ve gotten hurt and you know that they’ve received those wounds, so perhaps they know about you as well. You hope they do because it would be awfully lonely to be the only one out of a pair to be aware that there is, in fact, a pair.

Still, your soulmate is the furthest thing from your mind as you funnel people into the Victory Pit. Clerics double as security, mostly because the Guard want to watch the fights more than they want to keep people safe, and you grit your teeth trying to keep your prepared spells at the back of your mind. You have several healing spells in your mind, but a few offensive ones as well. In Victory Pits of the past, you’ve had to use them. Now, you’re just sore and aggravated with the hickey that appeared on your chest last night - that you did not receive yourself. It doesn’t bother you that whoever you’re linked to is getting lucky, but it would be nice if you didn’t have to look at the proof for the next week or so.

Someone stamps on your toe and you bite back your curse, skittering backward and colliding with someone who is cursing. “I’m sorry,” You apologize on instinct, turning and grabbing the person by the arms. You’re momentarily struck by how beautiful they are, but you’re at work. “Are you okay? I’m a cleric working in the Pit today.” They glance down at you, baubles and trinkets swinging from their gaudy horns, and you realize with a start that they're purple. It’s not that tieflings are rare in Zadash, but purple ones are. The group they’re with also has a blue tiefling, a small green halfling, and a half-orc. Truly a strange band of people.

“No, no,” The person you’d run into says, voice smoother than you’d anticipated, “I’m alright. Are you okay, darling?” They smile down at you, completely red eyes smiling with merriment as they settle their hands on your biceps in a mirror of how you’re holding them.

“Please, I ran into you,” You shake your head, “Besides, I’m working. It’s my job to make sure that you’re okay.” You give them your name, telling them to seek you out if they shall become injured.

“Oh,” They sweep you grandly underneath their arm, squishing you into the side and stepping toward their group for a few steps, “I will get painfully injured today, but I will seek you out specifically, darling. My name is Mollymauk Tealeaf, and I am fighting with the Mighty Nein. You may call me Molly, all my friends do. I am a man of many friends, and you are one of them now. Keep your eyes on me today.” He winks and then sweeps himself away with a flourish, leaving you standing and a little flustered.

After that, the Victory Pit starts faster than you anticipate. You're stationed in the Pit itself, one of the more powerful offensive clerics on the roster today when you start to put the pieces together. You're not sure why you didn't notice at first, but Mollymauk - Molly - has a lot of scars. A lot of familiar scars. You trace a particularly deep scar on your collarbone as you watch the first Pit fight and wonder. What are the odds? Could Mollymauk really be…? A horrible thought hits you, and you can feel yourself pale. He's fighting in the Victory Pit today. He's going to get hurt, which will either confirm or deny whether or not he's your soulmate but if he is… Shit, you're in for a rough day. You know that The Mighty Nein is slated for the first fight against an Otyugh. They're nasty creatures, although not really native to Zadash you've still had to heal up some rather awful sucker wounds in your time.

You're glad to see that Mollymauk holds his own in the fight, and stays far away from the Otyugh. It's hard to keep your eyes off of him with the idea that he might be your soulmate and you get the sense that he's a melee fighter more so than a magical fighter in the beginning, but then he activates his swords, and the pain blossoms in your ribs as he drags his blades along his.

There's no question now. Mollymauk Tealeaf is your soulmate. Watching the way he fights and interacts with the Nein during their fight with the Otyugh everything about the injuries you've received from your connection with him makes so much more sense. You actually find yourself… Weirdly proud of your scars, then. You've heard about the Nein, how they're swords for hire and defeated the Fey Spider in the tunnels, but still. Mollymauk seems like good people. Maybe it's naïve to hope on your part because he's your soulmate, but you'll take it until you're proven different. You've been doing things like that for most of your life, and you'll be damned if you stop now. You know you can hold your own, too, so that helps. The next fighters pass in a haze to you, as you stand ready to save someone from death the Banderhobb fight passes with no need for clerics, and the fights with the Giant Crocodile and Ice Troll are much the same.

When the Mighty Nein is back up, your senses fire to life. The next monsters are Winter Wolves, nasty creatures with powerful ranged attacks. You steady yourself against the half-wall you're stationed behind, readying yourself for whatever pain Mollymauk is about to feel. The beginning of the fight is tense, and your fellow clerics watch you curiously as your hands grip tight and relax intermittently on the wall in front of you. When one wolf whirls and releases a nasty, icy breath you heave a sigh of relief that Mollymauk wasn't hit but then the other does the same thing. You feel it more than see Mollymauk get hit, sharp shards of pain washing over your skin so intensely that your eyes roll back in your head and the only thing that keeps you from collapsing is the fervent grip on the wall. Someone lays their hands on you and you feel a swell of magic before you shake them off. "I'm fine," You grit out, "Save your spells for the competitors." Even though you could use the healing, there's a reason clerics wait in the wings at the Pit. It's very possible that someone could be on death's door before the end of the day and if they die because you wasted a spell you'd never forgive yourself.

By the time you fight the darkness from the edges of your vision, Mollymauk is delivering the killing blow to the final Winter Wolf. You're not sure how he's still standing, let alone aware of his body enough to swing his swords like they weigh nothing. Your knees practically knock together as you gather your wits, wiping a hand down your sweaty face. The trials only get harder, and one hit almost took you down. You know you should heal yourself but you're not really sure if your nightly heals affect Mollymauk and, while you have no love for the Empire, it wouldn't be fair if your heals do help him. (And, again, there's the preemptive guilt of maybe not having enough energy for a lifesaving spell. You're just too selfish to use your pearl, too, so you have to make do and conserve your energy.)

The next group comes out and whispers flitter down the row of clerics to you: Owlbears are next. They're awful creatures, nasty when there's only one but two are damn near unmanageable. You happen to know these two aren't even mated, but that hardly matters. It's going to be a bloodbath at best, and at worst there'll be a death. Reaching over the wall, you unhook the latch that keeps it connected just in case you need to rush into the field. The beast-keepers are technically supposed to be the first on the scene, but you're also technically more powerful than they are. You rarely listen to the rules at the Victory Pit, mostly because you're a Crown Cleric and not from the Temple of the Platinum Dragon.

The fight is intense and the clerics next to you barely hold you back when several members of the team go down. They have clerics on their team, yes, but it's hard to tamp down your instincts when you were practically raised by your family for clericdom. It's only when you hear the whispering chatter that the beast-keepers are gathering the magical manacles that you jump into action, flinging open your door and sprinting into the field. The gasp from the crowd barely registers in your mind as you dodge an attack, skidding underneath and stopping next to what looks more like a bloody lump of cloth than a humanoid. The beast whirls on you, but you're faster. You've cast spiritual weapon before it can strike, the air in front of you and the injured party member shimmers and then, the first thing you thought of, a replica of one of Molly's scimitars but three times the size, appears and blocks the strike.

The Owlbear reels back again, going for another, but you're right there to block it. The beast-keepers are going to get an earful from you when you're done with the Pit, but for now, you're relieved that they've managed to subdue the beast and you can focus on the fallen. They're not in great shape, and with a precursory feel of their pulse, they're incredibly close to death.

You put your hands on either side of their neck, close your eyes, and pray. It's not necessarily a religious relationship with the deity that gives you the powers you have to heal, but it's still technically a prayer. The contestant heaves a deep breath, and you can feel the life rush into them from the fold between this plane and the next. The other clerics have gotten everyone else, so you focus on your patient. They probably need two or three more spells before they’re fully stabilized, which is going to burn through either your higher energy spells or all of your lower levels. You grit your teeth as you roll your patient onto the blade of your spiritual weapon, using it as a makeshift gurney. They’re already calling for the next team as if the clerics they’ve hired aren’t already spread thin trying to keep this team from dying. The Mighty Nein are at the doors, holding them open for the clerics, and you barely catch Molly’s eyes as you bring your patient off of the Pit floor and into the waiting room. The scimitar disappears as you lay them on a cot, quickly finding the worst wounds and sealing them with magic, burning through a lot of the spells you prepared and the arcane energy that it takes to cast.

The next beasts are angry and wily - displacer beasts - so you don’t really have time to think about how Molly is lingering near you, trying to find a time to talk to you while you’re trying to keep this person from dying. You stabilize them eventually, but the scarring will be intense. There’s nothing that you can do about that with what you’ve got now. Outside you can hear the next team win against the beasts and stress begins to bundle in your shoulders at the thought of how quickly the Pit is moving. Molly is hovering over your shoulder as you step back and begin clearing the blood off of your hands, despite his group being called out once more.

“That was my sword,” He rumbles, keeping his voice down and stepping even closer to you when you turn around. You track his tail thwipping through the air behind him, either very agitated or incredibly curious. Either could be incredibly accurate, and you don’t really have enough time to parse any information from the rest of his body language.

“Yes, it was,” You want to grumble, but it comes out softer than you intended, “Sorry, but you’re being called and I have to get back to my station so that you don’t die.” Molly tries to catch your arm when you slip around him, but with a promise and a smile you turn back to face him. “Don’t fucking die out there, and then we can talk, okay?” You wish that you could tell him, warn him really, that they’re about to face a Hill Giant. An incredible creature, really, but pushed to a near unreachable limit by the beast-keepers and their prodding, angry spears and arrows. It makes you sick to your stomach, but this is your job. The Empire pays your bills and keeps you fed - they would not tolerate any dissent from you on the matter of the Victory Pit and the treatment of the creatures captured specifically for death, no matter how strong of a case you can make. Instead of telling Molly what he’s up against, you casually brush the back of your fingers against his hand and let your magic make its way into his system. He should be okay, you think, the blessings of a cleric are strong.

Making your way back to your station, you fidget with your uniform. One of your friends - using the term loosely because you’re more like coworkers - catches your sleeve as you pass him. He’s grinning, mischief in his eyes. “You’ve never given a contestant your blessings before, what’s so special about him?”

“I didn’t do anything,” You pull away from Brock, “I just told him that if he wins, we can have a conversation. That’s all.” You shoot him a pointed look and then, after glancing around to make sure nobody else is looking, a wink. Brock grins and relaxes into his station, shaking his head. You’re known to push the limits, but outright break the rules? It’s almost unheard of for you. Everyone knows you’re blessed with a soulmate and Zadash is a bustling metropolis, frequented by the sort of people who get the injuries you sometimes show up to work with. They know you’ll need to stick around to find them, so you’ve only pushed the limits the Empire gives you, not outright shoot past them. By the time you’ve found your station again, the Hill Giant is almost out onto the Pit floor, and Brock has probably figured out why you’re so soft on one particular contestant.

The giant knocks out one of the pillars, roaring so deeply it vibrates in your chest. He’s pissed, rightfully so. The spines sticking out of his body make you sick to your stomach, and you have to look away. Your eyes find the halfling that was with Molly earlier, but as she sprints off toward the human woman, you realize that she’s a goblin. An interesting myriad of people traveling together, but you’ve seen strangers come through your town. She fires off two of her bolts, missing entirely, and you watch one arc through the air and strike off of the helmet of a Guard, who yelps.

You snicker as she takes off again, and the human man fires off his magic. It’s strange to see magic come from another person, especially magic that is clearly learned and not given. It almost makes you wish that your magic was learned instead of bestowed upon you but that would mean losing Molly, who you’re already rather fond of. You’re watching the man try to keep his cool and almost miss the other tiefling casting - a giant fucking lollipop appearing out of the air, smacking the giant, and then flames rocketing out of her hands to hit him, as well. You grin when you realize she’s a cleric, too. You wonder if she has a soulmate, but it would be improper to ask.

When the giant reels back and hurls a large chunk of wall, you suck in a breath. Everything is happening so fast, and Molly… Not only will it hurt to take the hits, but he’ll get hurt. It’s not just about you, but if he goes down so will you, and then you can’t help anyone. You’re almost relieved when the giant turns toward the half-orc, but then Molly is sprinting up toward the giant’s legs, his swords out. He’s a melee fighter, getting right into the thick of it and making your skin crawl. Molly’s swords carve through the giant like butter, making you cringe because the giant is pissed, and Molly won’t have time to get away from whatever is about to happen to him.

When the giant whips around, his eyes are fully black and bleeding down his face. You’re almost certain that’s Molly’s doing, but you don’t really have time to figure it out. The giants club swings up, and then down, and before Molly hits the ground your world has gone hazy with pain and darkness.

The pain and darkness keep their hold on you for what feels like forever. You know that eventually you’ll wake up, but floating in the darkness of unconsciousness you think of Molly. Did someone heal him? Is he okay? You’ve felt the other times he’s died, the way it rips you apart inside, the way you sleep for what feels like days before you wake up. Is this the same way? Has Molly died, even for a second, and you’re left to suffer the consequences? The stories your family told you all ended with soulmates together, no longer bearing the injuries of the other, because of the love that they share and the way they give and take equally. Nobody told you stories of soulmates where one dies over and over again - or at least comes close to doing so rather regularly. You’re still floating in the abyss when you hear his voice. Molly’s voice startles you because normally it’s the deity who blessed you with magic that comes to you, reminding you that everything is going to be okay.

But this time it’s Molly. He’s saying your name, asking you to wake up so that he can see your eyes again. Faintly, as you drift closer and closer to the surface, you can feel the light tracings of fingertips against the crest of your cheekbone and the faint wisp of breath against your hair. He keeps speaking, telling you things that you’re not sure you’ll remember when you finally float to the surface.

That happens faster than normal. When your eyes finally feel light enough to open, Molly is there. He looks a little worse for wear, but you can tell he has at least one healing spell in him. When he realizes you’re awake, a large grin splits his face. “There you are, darling,” He sighs, leaning forward in his chair to be even closer to you, “Scared me for a moment there.”

“Now that I’ve found you I highly doubt that you can get rid of me, Mollymauk.” Your voice is hoarse as you push yourself up, one of Molly’s hands curling around your shoulder to help you sit up on the cot. When you’re upright he moves from the chair he had set up next to your bed to sit next to you, his entire side pressed against yours. “You are a man who is constantly in danger.”

“That I am,” He leans against you, his horn pressing into the side of your head but you don’t mind. He’s warm and nice. The aches in your body numb a little bit just by being near him, but Molly seems like he has a bit of an ego so you don’t mention that. “Do you know why we feel each other this way?”

“Have you heard of soulmates, Molly?” You drop your voice to a whisper and turn your face to him, your lips pressed against his lavender forehead, “My family has legends of them, given to clerics to help them become the best healers they can be. Pushed to their limits by the other’s injuries, but also filled with an overwhelming need to be good enough. To have enough power. To protect, and love, and heal.” You kiss his forehead, hoping it’s not too bold, and let one of your last healing spells flow through his body. The last one you cast on yourself.

“It’s rotten work to love me, darling.” Molly finally says, one hand searching yours out, “But I do feel much better having met you. I feel connected, loved.”

“It’s not rotten work to love you, Molly. I’ve loved you for a long time, and I do not plan on stopping now.” You kiss his forehead again and his head turns, his own lips pressing against the side of your neck as he sighs, “Perhaps your work is not done in Zadash, but it should be soon.” You drop your voice to a conspiratorial whisper so that only Molly can hear you, “War is coming, Mollymauk. You, The Mighty Nein… You should run before you’re conscripted to fight.”

“And you?” He asks, red eyes never leaving yours as he pulls you impossibly closer, “What about you?”

“I… I’ll come with you, if you’ll have me.” You watch the shock flicker across his face for a brief moment, but then it settles into something that you can’t find a name for. “But if not, you don’t have to worry about me. I won’t be conscripted to be a War Cleric, not at first. They’ll take the clerics from the temples before they take me.”

Molly caresses the side of your face with his other hand, a small and hesitant smile playing on his face. “Darling, of course, I’ll have you. The Nein will, too. We’re meant to be together, after all.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

Superstitions and Curses

Pairing: mummy!Bucky Barnes x archaeologist!Reader

Warnings: slight dubcon, obsessive and soft!dark!Bucky, mentions of torture and being buried alive.

Words: 2163.

Summary: It wasn't your first expedition, but pretty much the first time when you had helped to bring an ancient being back from the dead.

P.S. Huge thanks to dear @navegandoaciegas who helped me get inspired again <3

_______________

"Please, let me in."

You clenched the amulet in your hands, nervously staring at the door of a hotel room and hoping he wouldn't enter. Despite the fact that you were an archeologist, a woman who believed in nothing but science, you were ready to pray to all the gods if it would help to keep this creature away.

"I mean no harm to you." His husky, dangerously low voice made you lick your lips as you thought of all the things he whispered in your ear the other night. "Didn't you like the way I treat you, love?"

"It was a spell you put on me!" You furrowed your brows, making a step away from the door and bumping into a nightstand with a loud thud - the bottle of water in top of it fell down to the floor.

"A spell?" The man behind the door chuckled, and you could hear him breathing out loudly as he peered through the crack in the door, his hands pressed against the dark wood. "You know I haven't done anything of this kind. What you felt was the chemistry between us, don't deny it."

It was true. That night when all you wanted was to forget the events of the last couple of days, forget all about the whole reason why you came to this ancient country, you rushed to a bar to get drunk like a fish, hoping the next morning once you'd wake up, it would all be a bad dream and nothing more. That's where you met him, the man who you had seen laying in his grave just a couple of hours before. Of course, you didn't know it was him - he looked like any other man, enough flesh on his bones not to cause any suspicion.

Oh, but it was him. He had followed you in that bar, pretending to be a stranger eager to know you; fooling you, he soon slipped into your room where he made love to you, completely drunk and fallen under his charms. How stupid you were, trusting a complete stranger after what had happened that day.

It was several hours after when you woke up in the night, and the moonlight coming from the window lit the room a little: as you stared at the man sleeping soundly next to you, you saw the ancient symbols on his chest.

The next minute you were out of your room, hoping he wouldn't wake up in the next hour. It would give you enough time to reach the railway station.

Why was he following you? You could understand his reasons since you had pretty much broken his tomb and opened his grave, but why on Earth did he sleep with you? Why didn't he kill you? Was it some kind of a ritual? Despite the fact that you were specializing on local customs and traditions, you have never heard of anything of that kind.

"You can't get rid of me." He murmured behind the door, and you sensed something wicked, resentful in his voice.

"Why can't I? What do you want from me?" You asked on the verge of tears, your arms trembling - you very much doubted the amulet you were holding was of any use to you.

"Shhhh." He cooed softly, feeling you fear and somewhat content with it. "I promise I won't hurt you. Let me in, love. Let me in."

For a couple of seconds you froze, listening to the man breathing softly behind the door. Strangely, you could almost hear his heart beating in his chest as if he really were human, not a rotten corpse you saw in the coffin a couple of days ago. The night you spent together you felt like he was the most tender and affectionate man you had ever met. Why did he do it? What was his purpose? Why were you opening the door for him when he ordered you to do it with that hypnotic voice of his?

You realized he had entered your room once he touched your cheek with his hand, rough fingers brushing against your wet skin. Oh, apparently, you were crying.

"I know it is beyond your comprehension, but please trust me, My Immortal Beloved." He made a step forward as you shriveled and slinked back, staring at his perfectly blue eyes adorned with black kohl. "Do not be scared. Even though it seems horrifyingly wrong to you, things are exactly as they were meant to be."

Despite the fact you had a thousand questions inside your head, the words were stuck in your throat. You couldn't even scream, asking for help. Besides, it would be pretty worthless, wouldn't it? No one could protect you from someone who rose from the dead.

"You were meant to open my tomb and set me free. You were meant to resurrect my body and let my soul return to it."

When you reached the wall, your back pressed to it as if you wanted to slip through the stone, the man had inched closer to you and lowered his hand on your chest, the other one right in front of your face as he moved his hand, drawing a circle in the air with his palm. I see you. You are important to me, a sign of both trust and affection - you had seen it so many times on ancient drawings it was imprinted on your brain.

What? Why was he doing it? Why it was you who set him free? You were just one of a whole team of archaeologists and wage earners. You did nothing special, nothing that differentiated you from others - you weren't the one who physically opened it nor did you read any ancient spells locals were so superstitious about. You were as much in shock as all others when the mummy had suddenly disappeared from the tomb.

At first, even though most of you were people of science, all of you thought of ancient curses and all those archaeologists who had supposedly died from it. Then, when you came to your senses, you thought of the thieves who might had taken the mummy. But then again, although it were the remains of someone very, very important, no treasures were buried with him - apparently, this person had done something terrible when he was alive, especially remembering the curses written on the walls. So why steal just the corpse, then? Without decent care, the bones would crack within minutes of carrying them. Why would thieves want the mummy?

"I want to come back home." You whispered, shivering and averting your eyes.

"I will bring you whenever you want once you swear loyalty to me, love."

You blinked as you stared at his tanned face, symbols painted with gold shining on his temples. It was getting more and more insane with every passing minute.

"Why would I swear loyalty to you?"

"Because I am your Sun, Moon and the Stars in between."

The silence felt heavy, suffocating as you kept looking at the man, not knowing what to say. He was right - you didn't understand a thing. You didn't even know who he was and why you swearing loyalty to him seemed so important so this stranger. The only thing you knew for sure was that he was dangerous, far more dangerous than any other human being - you felt it in your bones.

"Before I d-do that, may I know your name?" You wanted to add something like "Your Majesty", but you had no idea what kind of title the man once had - that is, if he had any at all.

He chuckled, "It would be hard for you to pronounce. But you can call me James, it is the closest you can get."

A part of you was offended - for heaven's sake, you were specializing on this exact area and surely knew how to pronounce ancient names - but the other part of you now wondered how come this being knew a real English name and could actually speak modern language. Surely, he was at least a thousand years old. How come?..

"Why were you buried so disrespectfully?" You started questioning him out loud, furrowing your brows. "This is not my first expedition, but I have never seen a tomb like yours before. No treasures, no name, nothing that could identify you at all."

"The Witch-king, that's how they called me." His handsome face darkened, and the man took a step away, turning his back to you. "The one who had surpassed his high priest and could read the Book of the Dead. Once my chancellors learnt about me practicing the magic of the ancient, they made my priests spread the word to my people, and I have been overthrown. They have tortured me, blinded me, cut off my limbs, and then sealed me away in the tomb when I was still alive. Because of their fear of me and my powers, they condemned me to the worst of fates, and broke the line of kings."

As he kept speaking, his dark long robe fell down to the floor, opening his half-naked tan body to you: you saw two deep scars on his shoulders that still looked raw, horrifying you - the man was telling you the truth. He had been dismembered.

"They have cursed me to stay neither truly dead nor alive till one day somebody would open my tomb and set me free. They have kept the location of my grave a secret, thinking no one would ever discover it in the sand, but they all were wrong. I will suffer no more in that place where not a single ray of light had shone over two thousands of years."

Your head was spinning from all this, and you quietly slid to the floor, your hands in your hair as you tugged on the roots in frustration and fear. For the love of God, was it all true? Did you help resurrect the ancient being that could use some scary black magic and probably kill lots of innocent people? Did he want to drag you along with him once you swear loyalty to him? If you didn't, would he actually murder you?

"But this is of no importance now." The man turned back to you and, suddenly seeing you on the floor, hurried to gently pick you up and place you on a spacious bed, watching you with worry. "I am sorry for I have frightened you, love. I swear this was not my intention."

You had troubles understanding what his intention was, but you kept silent, too scaried to say something to him. You had a dozen thoughts what a creature like him would want to do to people for all his suffering.

You should have left that damn tomb alone when your team found twice more death traps than in any other grave. You read the curses left on the walls, but they only fueled your interest. Of course, you had never been superstitious in your entire life, so you simply disregarded all the signs that now seemed so clear you were ready to slap yourself.

"Why am I important?" You asked in a shaky voice, your eyes trailing down his chest with ancient symbols tattooed on it. "Why spending a night with me? I am just a woman. I have opened the tomb, but I was one of many."

"No, you are special. You won't understand now, not yet, but think of it as your destiny. Your fate is bound to mine."

As he inched closer to you, you finally realized you were almost in bed with a half-naked handsome man resurrected from the dead. Immediately crawling back, your stared at him wide-eyed. No, no, no, whoever he was and whatever he thought your fate was, you didn't want him in your bed the second time! Well, almost. Maybe you wanted a little bit. Just a little.

"S-so, are you going to destroy the country and claim your kingdom again?"

Your words made him laugh as he bared his perfectly white teeth while touching the side of your face.

"Two thousand years were enough to change my priorities. Ruling the world of humans who know nothing of magic isn't interesting to me anymore."

"I see. That's a relief." You murmured, still very uncomfortable with him being so close to you. "Please, can I just leave? There are millions of women, I'm sure you'll find someone more attractive to be your... your concubine."

_____________

"Concubine? I did not have a concubine, and neither did my ancestors." The man tilted his head to the side, looking at you surprised as you were ready to bite yourself for your own stupidity: of course, the rulers of these lands only started having concubines in the fourth dynasty and onwards, James was definitely either from the first or second one. "I can't let you leave, love. You will have to come with me."

Part 2

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