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peachbear88 · 3 years

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A Whole New World (Pt 2)

A/N: Part two of "A Whole New World"

Word count: 1063

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You race down the crowded bright streets of Sokovia, a steep contrast to it's alleyways. Wanda's clutching your hand so hard you think it's going to explode but you keep running.

"Stop thief!" You hear a police officer cry behind you. Pulling Wanda into an alley, you drag her under a musty tarp, clamping your hand over her mouth in a silent warning. The footsteps grow louder, slowing down right next to your bodies. You can hear the officer inspecting the heaps of trash, looking for any place you could be hiding. Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a small marble, rolling it across the gunk covered floor and hitting a sewage pipe with an audible CLANK. The officer jumps, whipping the gun from his holster. He lowers it when he sees no sign of anyone. Sighing, he jogs out of the alley. You let out a sigh of relief before yanking the tarp off the both of you.

"Come with me. I know a place we'll be safe."

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"Welcome to my humble abode!" You pull back the ragged cloth to reveal the view from the slightly rundown roof shack that you called your home. Ever since your mother had died, you had taken shelter in a little room on top of the roof of an old apartment building.

"Wow... The view is amazing up here." She murmurs, leaning against the chipped stone railing. You watch her, a smile on your face.

"Yep! Best view in all the city, except for maybe M Tower." You scrunch your nose in disgust. Wanda takes note of that, turning to face you.

"What do you have against M Tower?" You snort, staring at the brightly lit tower contrasting with the dark alleys of Sokovia.

"Their family is just living the high life, sitting on a throne of literal gold. Meanwhile, the rest of Sokovia is sitting in poverty, suffering and starving." You gesture down at the streets. Wanda crosses her arms over her chest, taking a more aggressive stance.

"We-They're not all that bad. They really do try to help out-." Her sentence fades off, landing on something behind you. "Shit. I have to go." She curses, running down the rusty metal stairs of the building. You chase after her but by the time you reach the street, she's gone. You sigh, reaching into your pocket dejectedly, pulling out the bracelet.

"You forgot your jewelry." You whisper dejectedly, flipping the gold bracelet over in your hand. Something catches your eye and you bring it closer to your face to inspect it. It's a very small engraving but the writing is unmistakable.

Maximoff.

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You slink past the security guard, under the cover of dark, making sure to stay out of range of his taser baton. You take the stairs, deciding that people were more likely to use the elevator. The tower is elegant, even the emergency staircase being made of marble. Selfish bastards. You think to yourself, shaking your head as you hike the stairs. One slab of that marble could feed 5 families for a week. You arrive at the 3rd floor, the floor that you presume contains their bedrooms. It's dead silent as you creep through the hallways, stopping when you see a golden name plate that reads "Wanda Maximoff". You push it open quietly, closing it behind you. There she is in all her glory, wearing a black, slim dress, a firm opposite from what you saw her in 9 hours ago.

"Hi." She whirls around, hurtling a knife at you. You sidestep it, noting the impressive marksmanship.

"I must warn you thief, I have many more knives, some much sharper than that one." She warns, brandishing another knife. You raise your hands in a peace gesture, the golden bracelet dangling off your finger tips. She lowers the knife slightly, a silent gesture for you to come closer.

"I forgot to give this back to you." You toss it to her and she catches it, deftly slipping it back onto her wrist. Smiling, she drops the knife back on the bedside table before patting the spot beside her. Wordlessly, you walk over to her, sitting down on the bed.

"Surely you couldn't have come just to return this? It could've easily sold for a good amount." You shrug bashfully, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Well... I also wanted to see you again." You admit. She smiles shyly, fidgeting with the golden bracelet. The two of you stare into each others eyes and you risk it, flashing a brief glance at her lips. You're leaning forwards, a bold move but whatever. Heavy footsteps echo down the hallway and you jump up. Wanda pushes you towards the balcony. "Wait! Will I get to see you again?" She purses her lips before smiling.

"Yes. Tomorrow night at 11:00PM. On this same balcony." You smile, running your hand through her hair gently. She melts at the touch but you pull your hand away to reveal an emerald green brooch. Her hand subconsciously flies up to her hair, confirming that you stole it. You smile slyly at her, waving it in front of her as the footsteps grow louder.

"I'll return it to you when I see you." You wink and she pushes you off the balcony right as her door bursts open. You fall, catching the branch of a particularly tall tree before swinging down with the agility of a monkey. "A little warning would be nice next time." You mutter, brushing yourself off before sauntering down the hallway cheerfully, forgetting all about the need for stealth. Rounding the corner, you run smack dab into a particularly bulky security guard who grabs you instantly, fumbling for his baton. “Aw man...” You kick him in the shin but to no avail. He drags you towards the elevator as you continue your miserable attempts to remove his vise-like grip. Instead of throwing you onto the streets, he brings you to the 15th floor where a beautiful, bright office is, with a great view of the dark city below.

"Here you go sir." The guard grunts, slapping his palm with his baton menacingly. You gulp, stepping towards the desk. The figure turns in his chair to reveal dark long hair, eyes the color of pools of ink and a cruel yet handsome grin.

"Nice to meet you. The name's Loki."

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PART 2! BAMMMMMMMM! I'm now binge-listening to the Aladdin soundtrack on repeat xD

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda fluff #wanda angst #wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #marvel mcu #avengers

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lancermylove · 3 years

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Mixed Signals (Oneshot)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Barbatos x fem!Reader

Warning: N/SFW! I MEAN IT! Kinda slow burn.

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hi. Could I request a one-show with a female reader and Barbatos (Obey Me). It's holiday themed so if it's not you cup of tea I understand. Both are attracted to each other but never said anything, though they have friendly banter often and think the feelings are mutual. There's a party going on and they end up under the mistletoe. She thinks it's going to give them an opportunity to open up to each other but he is reluctant to do it (fearing she likes one of the brothers). After he pecks her cheek she thinks she read the signs wrong & feels down. After the party she decides to find his room. She confesses her feelings, he explains why he acted the way he did. He didn't want to do it just because of tradition, he wanted it to mean something. Maybe he mentions wanting to know a side of her the brothers don't & keep it to himself. I'd like it to be cute but spicy so you can go as n.sfw-ish as you feel comfortable. I hope it's not too long/confusing. Thanks.

A/N: I know you said n.sfw-ish, but it turned into n.sfw...no wait, DETAILED N.SFW. XD Also, I know Barb’s bedroom is filled with door, but I’m just going to pretend he has another room that’s like a normal room. 😂

Word Count: 2,973

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Your first day at Devildom was completely unexpected. Aside from being teleported into a different world, and that too hell, you didn't expect to meet such good looking men.

As time passed, you met all the brothers, angels, Solomon, and Diavolo. You found each one attractive in his own way, but you never considered dating any of them. That is until you attended the party at Diavolo's castle and met Barbatos.

When you saw the butler, you couldn't take your eyes off him. Was it his looks? His calm demeanor? The sense of mystery about him? You couldn't put your finger on it, but you were drawn to him.

Unfortunately, since you lived at the House of Lamentation, you rarely saw the butler. Your eyes yearned to catch a single glimpse of the green-haired man, and one day, your wish was granted by none other than the demon king himself. Diavolo invited you to his castle to ask about your stay and experience at RAD thus far. On top of that, he informed you about your weekend meetings with him.

"(Y/N), I would like you to visit me every weekend to share your experience and progress in Devildom." Diavolo flashed a friendly smile, "Also, if you don't mind, I would like to hear stories about the human world. Your world intrigues me."

You immediately agreed to his invitation and took it as an opportunity to meet Barbatos.

At first, Barb simply greeted you while serving you refreshments and then excused himself. As you visited the castle more frequently, the demon butler became friendlier towards you. He started to converse with you, asking about your day and classes. To your surprise, he even asked about your favorite foods, so that he can prepare them for your next visit. You merely took as his kindness, not realizing that Barbatos began to develop feelings for you.

Even the Ruler of Devildom noticed the changes in his trusted butler when you were around. Diavolo wholeheartedly supported Barbatos's feelings for you. Every weekend, he made excuses to show up late for the meeting, allowing you to spend more time with the demon butler. Slowly, the two of you began chatting about topics other than food and Devildom.

Your friendship grew to the point where Barbatos invited you to help him in the kitchen as an excuse to spend more time with you. More than anything, the demon enjoyed teasing you - smearing flour on your cheeks, dabbing icing on the tip of your nose, playfully arguing about Devildom food being better than human food. His actions made you think of him in a different light. No man would tease and banter with you to this point if he didn't like you, right? You didn't get the answer to your question until Christmas came around.

Diavolo planned a grand party for all the important people of Devildom, and of course, he invited you. You donned your finest outfit, picked by none other than Asmo. The Avatar of Lust knew about your feelings for Barbatos and supported you.

"Sweetie, when I'm done, you'll look so beautiful that Barb won't be able to take his eyes off you." Asmo winked while applying blush to your cheeks.

The fifth-oldest brother was not kidding. When you entered the party, everyone stared at you in awe, including the demon brothers, angels, Solomon, and Diavolo. Unfortunately, Barbatos was nowhere in sight, so you exited the party in search of him. Though you looked and looked, there were no signs of your crush anywhere, not even the kitchen.

You returned to the party once more, hoping to find him there; instead, you found yourself standing under a mistletoe. As you stared at the green branch overhead, you wished that by some miracle, Barb would join you. Unbeknownst to you, your partner in crime noticed you staring at the mistletoe and immediately found Barbatos, dragging him in front of you.

"Sweetie, I found him! Barbatos, (Y/N) has been looking for you everywhere." Asmo chuckled, "Hm? Why are you blushing, (Y/N)?"

The Avatar of Lust moved his eyes to the branch above you and gasped, pretending he never saw the mistletoe above you. He glanced at Barbatos before shifting his eyes up, clapping his hands together. "Barb, please do the honors of fulfilling the Christmas tradition!"

This was the happiest moment of your life. To think that you were going to kiss the man of your dreams, all thanks to your fairy demon. While you indulged in the thought of how the kiss will feel, you failed to notice Barbatos hesitating. He slowly leaned in, but instead of kissing your lips, he pecked your cheek. The butler quickly excused himself, leaving both you and Asmo in shock.

Your chest tightened, making it difficult for you to breathe. You instantly walked out of the party with Asmo following in your trail.

"Sweetie, please wait," Asmo gently held onto your arm and pulled you closer to him, turning your body to face him. The demon cupped and wiped your tear-stained cheeks.

"I...am stupid," you began and bit your lower lip, fighting the tears threatening to escape your eyes, "I thought he liked me, but I misread everything."

"Don't say that, dear." Asmo drew you into a hug and rubbed soothing circles on your back. "Please calm down and don't jump to any conclusions. Talk to Barbatos first."

You weren't sure why, but a strong feeling told you that you didn't misread the signals. Barbatos was not the type to get friendly with just anyone. You thanked Asmo for comforting you before rushing to find your crush, knowing well that your heart was not going to be at peace until you got the answers to your questions.

After a while, you found yourself standing in front of his bedroom door. You raised a shaky hand to the door and took a deep breath before hitting your knuckles against the wood. The butler was stunned to see you but stepped aside and invited you into his room.

"Did you lose your way?" He questioned, closing the door behind you.

You weren't sure if he meant 'lose your way' in a literal direction or figuratively, but you pushed on. "Barbatos, do you have time to talk? I need to tell you something."

The butler studied your averted eyes and red cheeks as he nodded. "What would you like to tell me?"

"When I first came to Devildom, I was surprised to see the men here. I found them all to be attractive in one way or another, but none of them tugged on my heartstrings. That is...," your voice turned into a whisper, "until I met you."

Upon hearing your words, Barbatos's eyebrows tugged up as his body stiffened. He remained silent and waited for you to continue.

"I felt drawn to you and wanted to spend more time with you. That's why I always looked forward to the weekend." You couldn't bring yourself to look at his face, so you continue speaking with your eyes glued on the stone floor. "When you started to spend more time with me, I was very happy. Um..."

You gathered the courage to lift your head and look at the handsome demon. Barbatos stared, expressionless, but you didn't let that faze you.

"I thought you liked me. Your behavior around me was different, bu-but...," you curled your damp hands into a fist, preparing yourself for the worse as you asked, "why didn’t you kiss me properly under the mistletoe? Did I misread your signals?"

You felt your eyes stinging, but you dug your nails into your palms to hold back the tears. Barbatos didn't expect you to ask him such a direct question, but much to your shock, he smiled.

"You did not misread my signals. I presumed that you held feelings for one of the brothers, considering you seem to be quite attached to them." he paused to see your reactions and chuckled. "As for the kiss, I apologize for hurting your feelings. I want our first kiss to hold meaning, not for the sake of tradition. Also, I did not want to kiss you in public."

Barbatos stepped closer to you, delicately wiped away the tears collecting in the corner of your eyes, and whispered, "I apologize for causing your pain and bringing tears to your eyes."

“Y-You like me?” You couldn’t believe your ears and weren’t sure how to react. You always dreamt of this moment, but now that it arrived, you were at a loss.

“I do.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and looked into your eyes. "Might I be selfish enough to ask for a favor?"

"S-sure."

"I always considered the brothers lucky for being able to get friendly with you. How I wished my lord had asked you to stay in this castle instead." The demon butler gave a small smile. "Would you be kind enough to show me a different side of you? A side that not even the brothers haven't seen."

It took several seconds to digest his words, and you weren't sure what exactly he meant. So, you pursed your lips and closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. Barbatos held a finger to his lips and chuckled, finding your action adorable. He rested his hand on your cheek delicately as if he was touching glass.

"I am not familiar with the traditions in the human world, so forgive me if my words frighten you. Physical intimacy holds a deep meaning for me, so my love, would you permit me to hold you? Would you be mine?" Barbatos held out his hand in front of you and waited patiently for your reply.

You stared at him with your lips ajar. ‘Be his...what does he...?’

A deep shade of crimson covered your cheeks as you gasped, clamping one hand over your mouth. Your heart jumped with joy as your head spun slightly from the sudden rush of blood. Only when you nodded did the demon plant a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

Barbatos placed butterfly kisses on your face before capturing your lips. He gently pulled away from the kiss, his hot breath tickling the lower half of your face. Barbatos slide the tip of his tongue along your lower lip, waiting for you to part your lips. A shade of red once again spread across your cheeks, but you granted him entry. The demon impatiently thrusted his tongue into your wet cavern while his hands stroked the curves of your waist. He explored your mouth and rolled his tongue on yours.

You dug your fingers into his jacket as his hands began to roam freely around your heated body. Barbatos drew his tongue out and wiped saliva running down your chin. He ran a finger up your back, tracing the zipper of your fitted dress before tugging down the pull tab. Not breaking off eye contact, Barbatos helped you out of your clothes and undergarments. Feeling the cold air against your warm skin, you shivered and crossed your arms over your chest.

"You look breathtaking," he complimented, scooping you in his arms and walking towards the bed.

The red on your face grew darker as you nuzzled your face in his warm neck. He gently set you on his bed and straddled your body. Barbatos tugged his gloves off with his teeth while giving you a teasing smile.

"You are such a tease." You mumbled and tried to pry your eyes from his face in vain. He chuckled at your statement and continued his venture.

Taking hold of your hand, he kissed your fingers, the back of your hand, and up your arm. Barb trailed wet kisses to your shoulder, neck, and up to your lips. He pecked your lips before tenderly kissing down the other side of your neck and to your chest.

You watched him examining your mounds, finally realizing that your dream was coming true. The man you yearned for was in bed with you, physically showing his feelings for you. ‘This isn’t a dream, is it? This is...really happening.’

The demon butler rolled his tongue on your perked nipple before taking the bud into his mouth and sucking on it. Gasping loudly, you closed your eyes as your heart pounded against your chest. You ran your fingers in his hair and dug your nails into his scalp, prompting Barb to take your whole breast into his mouth as his free hand massaged the other mound. Your muffled cries only added to his desire.

After leaving both your breasts sore, the green-haired man processed to kiss down your stomach while caressing the side of your hips. His touch was even more satisfying than you had imagined in your fantasies. He pushed your legs apart only to have you press them back together.

Barb brushed your pelvic bone with the tips of his fingers and smiled tenderly, "Let me see how beautiful you look."

Though you were nervous, you gave in to his request and slowly parted your legs. He sat in the middle, taking hold of your right leg and ghosting his lips over your ankle. The entire time his eyes stayed glued to your glistening womanhood. Barbatos trailed his lips up your leg, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"My love, you are beautiful." He whispered, his hot breath caressing the area between your legs. He sunk his teeth on the side of your thigh, marking you as his before pressing his lips deeply between your legs.

"A-ah, Barb." You groaned, arching your back.

Your voice was music to his ears. Barbatos slowly ran his tongue up and down your slit, drawing more lewd sounds from you.

“You taste so sweet,” he groaned, pressing the tip of his tongue to your clit, sliding it down to your entrance. Shifting his eyes to meet yours, Barbatos shoved his tongue inside your entrance.

"Oh my god," you exclaimed in a breathy voice, earning a witty reply from your lover in return.

"There is no god here, my dear."

Barb teasingly thrusted his tongue in and out a few times, earning a series of moans from you in return. He licking up to your slit, and without warning, he pushed two digits into your entrance, wiggling his fingers to get a feel of the soft flesh inside. You yelped, gripping the bedsheet with both your hands.

"B-Barb. A-at least wa-warn me."

"Where's the fun in that?" He chuckled as he gently began stretching your insides with his fingers.

Barbatos withdrew his long fingers, earning a disapproving groan from you. He brought his digits to his face and licked them clean of your essence. "I could get used to this taste."

You averted your eyes and bit down on your lower lip to suppress a groan.

Maintained eye contact, he stood up and started to undressed. The butler took his time, peeling each layer off one-by-one until you cried, "Barb...hurry!"

"My, someone is impatient." He teased while pushing his pants down to his ankles. You stared hungrily at his precum-soaked erected manhood.

Barbatos positioned himself between your legs and pressed his tip at your entrance. "My love, are you sure about this? If you are not ready, then I do not want to pressure you into this. We can always-"

Not being able to take it any longer, you shot your eyes to his face, "Barb, I want you NOW!"

The butler let you a small laugh at the unexpected reaction as he gripped your hips. Little by little, he pushed his length inside, taking care not to hurt you. You cried as your inside stretched to accommodate his large size, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked, concerned by your pained expression.

"Y-Yeah," you managed to answer.

"You are taking me in quite well." He stole passionate kisses while cooing words of praises as you adjusted to his size. When you gave him the green signal, Barbatos slowly started to move inside you. You held onto his arms as your body gave into the intense pleasure. He studied you with a smile, watching you melting under him. Barbatos was truly happy to finally become one with you.

The butler hovered over you, sweat bead rolling down his face. He kissed you hungrily as he changed his angle to hit you deeper. His focus was on you, and his only goal was to please you. Barbatos took note of every expression, movement, and sound you made.

"There! B-Barb h-hit t-there." Your voice drove him mad, but your words made him crazier, "ugh...g-go f-faster."

The butler pinned your trembling hands next to your head, pulled out his length, and slammed into you. He hit your sweet spot with enough force to make you scream his name. Though he had picked up his pace, Barbatos tried not to be rough with you. He wanted your first time with him to be passionate and memorable.

As you got closer to your climax, Barbatos moved his hips faster against yours, leaving you a moaning mess. The sound of your bodies slapping against each other and your mewls filled the room. Not long after, your vision went white as your body shuddered under the demon. Your head was spinning as your essence coated his length. Barbatos held you closer to him, his thrusts losing their rhythm. Soon after, he pulled out and released on your body, coating you with his essence. The butler rested his forehead against yours as he caught his breath.

"Thank you for agreeing to this," Barbatos whispered in a breathy voice, "I promise to always be there for you and love you till your last breath. N-No, continue to love you even after your last breath."

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➣ Obey Me Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi or Commission?

#obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x reader #obey me diavolo #obey me asmo

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whumpster-dumpster · 3 years

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Tag game by @bad-behavior

List your top three whump tropes and tag people.

Whoever gets tagged gets to say how they feel about your top three tropes.

After finishing that, they then list their top three tropes, and the tagging cycle goes on!

I’ve been tagged by multiple people so I’ll address them in one post! Beware, it’s a long one!

@bad-behavior:

1. Bad caretakers

2. Cynical and mean Whumpees that don’t know just how much they need a hug.

3. Sleep deprivation, and exhaustion induced illnesses

1. I do like it sometimes, but I have to be in the right mood. I like caretakers who are bad by accident and then feel guilty about it once they realize.

2. I usually prefer a sweet and vulnerable whumpee but I’ll beat up some of the dry, cynical ones too, if I have a villain who can break them easier than they ever anticipated.

3. EVERYTHING I EVER LOOOOOVED

@novawhumps:

1. Unconscious, fainting, getting knocked out all that stuff

2. Whumpee having an oxygenmask and they are desperatly trying to get it off

3. Environment whump. A building that collapses earthquakes, getting trapped in a fire. Being trapped in the water.

1. YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, it’s everything I love!

2. I love oxygen masks, but usually prefer the moment when the whumper (or caretaker) is holding it onto the whumpee’s face and they surrender to it

3. That’s some good stuff! The building collapse is probably my favorite out of the ones you mentioned. The claustrophobia of being trapped under debris in the dust and the dark...Oof.

@whumpwillow:

1. Painful wound cleaning. I just love the tenderness, the intimacy (platonic or otherwise) of being up close and comforting the person while taking care of their injuries, the flinching at the antiseptic, the gentle hands dabbing cuts on the face. good stuff.

2. Messy recovery. non-linear progression of the whumpee working towards getting over their trauma. self-sabotaging themselves. getting angry at caretaker and then feeling guilty about it and hating themselves even more. it’s good angst.

3. Enemy to Caretaker. perhaps in a hero x villain context, or just some good ol’ fashioned rivals, one of them needs help and goes to the other. Perhaps the enemy is the only one around, and perhaps the whumpee just has that much of a shitty support system that their enemy is the only one they can think of to go to, but just...yes.

1. I love the intimacy too! Especially when the caretaker’s soothing them in a soft voice while they work, Whumpee gritting their teeth but resisting the urge to push their hands away because despite the pain, they know they can trust them. Good stuff!

2. Yes, always. Recovery is messy. Recovery can take a long, long time. Recovery affects everyday life. It’s good to see it explored.

3. Ehh, I’m not as big on this one. I’d rather it be a frenemy than a real enemy. I feel like legit enemies should stay on their own side XD

@the-metalhead-chick:

1. whippings

2. brandings

3. being collared

1. I don’t have any big feelings about whipping most of the time; I think I’d rather see the scars from it afterward than see it in the moment, I don’t know why

2. I like it a little more than whipping! It’s not a huge favorite but still enjoyable! The screams while they’re being burned are legendary!

3. Yessss! Especially if the whumpee frantically claws at the collar, trying to pull it off! Fun times.

@whumplance:

1. pet whump

2. non-human whumpie, but I especially love it when whumpie has feathery wings

3. Whumper pretending to be an incompetent caretaker. the levels of deceit and betrayal in that is just.. mhmhnmm👌🏻

1. That’s a lot of fun! It’s interesting to see just how far it can go. When the whumpee eats and drinks out of dog bowls, that’s just the lowest of the low and I love it.

2. I usually prefer robots as my non-human whumpees, but winged whumpees are great too! Those poor babes getting their feathers ripped out or their wings clipped, that’s so angsty!

3. I haven’t seen much content for that trope so I’m not sure how to feel about it, but a whumper undercover always has potential.

@thinkingofausername:

1. Whump aftermath. No matter how good the actual whump/hurt is, I’m waiting for the comfort. Painful caretaking, soft caretaking, long recoveries, wounds that never heal, whatever - gimme

2. Breakdown. Whether it be the whumpee finally received some gentleness, or they’re delirious, or they’ve had a nightmare - let them break and let someone hold them!

3. Strong caretaker. Have they been hurt before? Are they the medic? Are they the leader? In any case, they’re the rock, they’re there for others, but who’s there for them?

1. I love myself some comfort but I will confess sometimes I like to beat ’em up and go XD It can be funny to see the readers react in outrage at a cliffhanger.

2. YES, please and thank you. No matter how stoic or strong or angry my whumpee is, they are guaranteed to break down and cry and be held at some point if I have anything to say about it!

3. My favorite kind of caretaker! Ever! The one who would do anything to protect the whumpee, who’ll pour everything they have into making them feel safe and taking the pain away -- even at the cost of causing themself pain.

@twistedcaretaker:

1. The Box BoyVerse. Just *vaguely gestures* everything! This is the most charming, and attractive part of whump for me. I love the whump community as a whole, and I especially love the partakers of the Boxyverse and just a special breed of sickos💖💖

2. Inhuman Whump. Particularly winged whumpees. Particularly vampires, demons, and angels in that order.

3. Heroes x Villain to Lovers😂 yeah. Just leave me in my Wattpad days of shame alone!

1. I haven’t really come into contact with much of this universe, which is probably shocking to everyone XD It sounds fun in theory!

2. I don’t often delve into demon/angel whump so I’m kind of ambivalent to it, but hey, that means more for you!

3. Naaah. Not really my thing.

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

Okay, so here are a few of mine!

1. Fevers! The haziness, the delirium, the glazed eyes, the sweat beading down the whumpee’s face, sticky damp hair, the chills, lukewarm baths and cool compresses -- it’s all just a great Aesthetic.

2. Feeling each other’s pain through a soul bond. Not something I see as often, but the caretaker stumbling as fear and pain fills them, the urgent sense that something is wrong, the whumpee’s in danger, they need to find them now -- and imagine if Whumper found out they can cause both of them pain at once! Two birds with one stone!

3. Manhandling, especially when the whumpee is grabbed by the hair, the face, or the throat. It can be intense, it can be creepy, it can leave some great bruises...Plus it’s a good way of measuring how defiant or submissive the whumpee will be.

My brain is a little dead now, I can’t think of anyone to tag. If you want to do this, feel free!

#whump #whump community #tag game #long post

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snowdice · 4 years

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Little Kestrel (Actual Part 13)[Birds of Different Feathers Series]

I messed up and published chapter 14 as chapter 13. This is the actual chapter 13 and what I put out yesterday is chapter 14. I guess you get a bonus update this week. XD

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Logan & Patton & Virgil (future Virgil/Patton but not in this story)

Characters:

Main: Logan, Patton, Virgil

Appear: Thomas

Mentioned: Janus

Summary:

It was supposed to be a quick job either way. Either Virgil would assassinate King Thomas of Prijaznia or he’d be caught and get executed. Yet, when Virgil gets the wrong bedroom and gets caught by Prince Logan and his future royal advisor, Patton, the job ends up getting way more complicated for the 14-year-old. He also ends up sleeping in a (actually pretty comfortable) closet for a few weeks…

Notes: Implied/referenced child abuse, assassination attempt, knives, torture mentioned, captivity, teenagers being really dumb

This is a prequel to Kill Dear. I wrote it 100 words at a time on my blog, but this is the edited version. If you want to see how it was crafted, look at the tag proofread stories.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 is this one Part 14 because I messed up and published that chapter first on accident.

Logan was able to quickly set up the station for making protection charms. Patton had always liked making them, though he often used his more as fun accessories than for protection. The one he was going to show Virgil how to make was a very simple low level one used for little more than to keep bugs off of yourself and, in the event of a well-made one, alert one to imminent danger by changing temperature. It was a nice thing to hold in the middle of the night if one was frightened by real or imagined threats. It would be warm to the touch when one’s environment was safe; he thought Virgil might appreciate it.

He and Patton decided to wait until Virgil woke up naturally which only took about 30 minutes. Then, Logan brought him to his set-up supplies. He explained briefly the process for making a protection charm. “I will be the one performing the enchantment for today,” he told Virgil. “I will show you how to make your own later, but I thought seeing how to make them would help with the learning process.”

“Plus, it’s fun!” Patton said.

Logan flashed a smile at him. “And that as well. I’ve prepared a small number of possible pendants for you to choose from. You can choose the shape and color, then we will put on a custom engraving, as well as decorations.”

“Glitter! Glitter! Glitter! Glitter!”

“Yes, Patton, everyone knows you’re going to choose glitter,” Logan said, amused, “but why don’t we let Virgil decide for his own pendant?”

“Fine,” Patton said, “but mine will be glitter.”

Logan grabbed the box of blank pendants and offered it to Virgil. “Choose whichever one feels right,” he suggested. Virgil moved forward and looked over the box. “You can touch them,” Logan said. “In fact, I would suggest it as it is meant to be held when it’s done, and you may as well get a feel for it.”

At his prompting, Virgil did. He reached into the box and shifted a few to the side. Eventually, he started picking a few up. “I like the crescent shape for holding the most,” he said, holding a blue one up, “but I don’t know.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Patton asked.

“Oh, um,” he mumbled. “I dunno.”

“Well here,” Patton said, reaching for the box. He dug through it and pulled out every single crescent moon shaped pendant and lined them up. “What do you fancy?”

Virgil considered them all for a long moment and then tentatively pointed the purple one out.

“Great!” Patton said. “Then, we’ll use that one.”

Virgil nodded and Patton picked up the pendant to drop it into his hands. His fingers curled over the shape and he seemed satisfied by the choice, so Logan turned to Patton. “Your turn,” he said.

Patton happily grabbed out a heart shaped blue one, but then paused and exchanged it for a purple one. “We match!” he said.

Virgil smiled slightly at his enthusiasm, and Logan dug out a blue crescent moon shape for himself. “Now that you have your base, you get to choose the engraving.” He opened up the instruction book to the correct page and showed it to him.

Virgil looked over the two pages of designs with careful focus. He wavered between the spiral sun and the flames for a moment, but eventually settled on the flames. Patton chose the interlocking hearts design as anticipated; it was his favorite, and Logan chose the spiral sun design for himself.

“Now, I’m going to engrave this design onto yours,” Logan said getting out the thin pen like instrument and dipping it into the slightly glowing bottle of potion he’d set out. “In the meantime, Patton will show you what we have for decorations.”

He was careful to get the symbol as perfect as he could and then started on Patton’s. Patton apparently managed to corrupt the boy because both of them came back with brushes and glitter to add as decoration.

Logan shook his head and handed them their freshly engraved pendants. “Apply the glitter how you like,” Logan said, moving on to his own engraving. Once he was finished, he selected some glow in the dark paint to decorate his own.

Once he’d finished decorating his own pendant, Logan looked up. “Are you finished?” he asked.

“Yep!” Patton said, shoving his pendant at Logan while Virgil nodded. Virgil had been far less enthusiastic than Patton, having carefully brushed glitter into the flame design only whereas Patton had haphazardly covered his own all over with glitter. Logan took both pendants.

“This,” Logan said, bringing over a different potion, “is used to make sure the decorations never fall off. It basically allows the other substances to become a part of the stone. “It isn’t too dangerous, but I’d suggest you stand back for the moment.”

Virgil stepped back farther back than was strictly necessary and gave the potion bottle a wary look. Logan moved all three pendants to the prepared surface (else they ran the risk of also getting stuck to the table) and put on gloves, having learned that magically gluing rocks to ones hands was not fun years ago. Then, he carefully drizzled a bit of the potion onto each rock. The rocks fizzled loudly, and Virgil gave off a startled yelp before toppling over flat on his face with his wrist glued to his sides.

“Oh no, honey,” Patton said immediately crouching next to him. “I’m sorry. We should have warned you about the noise.”

Logan wasn’t sure what type of action he’d tried to take when the sound started up, but whatever it was, it had caused him to move his arms fast enough that he’d activated the binding potion and it snapped his wrists to his side, overbalancing him.

Patton’s hands hovered over the startled boy, but he didn’t touch. After a few moments, it was clear that the magic keeping Virgil’s hands at his side released because his hands slowly crept forward to push himself up, so his face wasn’t planted against the ground. His eyes still looked incredibly startled.

“Are you alright?” Patton asked.

Virgil blinked. “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said.

Logan took his words as permission to move without risking startling him more. Virgil’s eyes bopped back and forth between him and Patton a few times as he crossed to his wall of potions and grabbed one.

He also selected a clean cloth from a basket on his way over to them. “A light healing potion,” Logan explained as he knelt in front of Virgil. He uncorked it. “May I?”

“I’m fine,” Virgil said with a frown. “I’m not even bleeding. It’s barely anything.”

“Which is why it’s a light healing potion,” Logan said. “You are sure to bruise with the way you hit. This will prevent it and make it stop hurting.”

“Okay,” Virgil agreed after a moment. Logan dribbled a bit out onto the rag. After a moment of thought, he touched the damp part of the cloth with his own finger, just to quash any fears that it would harm him.

“It will tingle slightly,” Logan warned. Virgil tilted his head to let him dab it onto his nose and the light scrape on his face. His nose scrunched up and he moved to rub the sensation away quickly only to have his arms slam back to his sides.

Patton caught him so the sudden involuntary movement didn’t cause him to fall back, and then giggled when Virgil titled his head to what could only be described as pout back at him.

“Aw, poor thing,” Patton cooed, reaching forward to rub a hand across the top of his nose and then his forehead where the potion had been applied for him.

“Better?” Patton asked.

“You’re really bad at this being captors thing,” Virgil commenting, willingly leaning back into Patton. Patton just smiled happily.

Logan took the bottle and got to his feet, before returning it, and then glanced at the pendants as Patton helped Virgil to his feet. The pendants had stopped fizzing, so Logan felt okay reaching in and grabbing them all.

He handed both Patton and Virgil their pendants when they walked closer to the table.

“And now for the actual enchantment,” Logan said. “For today, I already prepared the potion up to the last step as it has to sit for a few hours, but I will show you the last step and eventually teach you everything if you are still interested.”

Virgil nodded, but said. “No more noises?”

Logan smiled. “No more noises,” he confirmed. Then he pushed forward all of the ingredients he was about to put in the pot for Virgil to study one by one before putting them each in it in the correct order. Then, he demonstrated how to stir it correctly and told him how many times, though he doubted he’d be able to retain all of the information from this one demonstration. “There,” he said, setting down his spoon. “Now we just all put our pendants into the pot, and they should be ready in 25 minutes.”

Logan showed Virgil around his potion’s lab while they waited, explaining what certain pieces of equipment did and a bit about his organization system. Virgil followed him around, looking at the things he pointed out curiously. He, however, got very distracted when Logan showed him one of the experiments he’d concocted. It was a thick liquid that was super attracted to itself and would form a small ball that could be disturbed by touching it. He seemed to like the sensation of squishing it down onto a table… over and over and over again.

“We should get him a ball of yarn,” Patton said out of the corner of his mouth. He may have been enjoying watching Virgil play with the substance more than Virgil was enjoying playing with it himself. And that was saying something.

Eventually, however, the pendants were finished, and he dragged Virgil away from his new toy to show him the finished product.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Is it supposed to be warm?” Virgil inquired.

“Yes,” Logan replied. “It’s temperature changes based on if the magic on it senses a threat or not. Warmer temperatures mean you are safe.

“Oh,” Virgil said softly, hand squeezing around it. “I like it.”

Logan found himself smiling. “I’m glad. It’s yours.”

“Thank you,” he said.

“If you would like, I’m sure Patton has some suggestions if you’d desire a way to keep it attached to your person. He in particular likes to make them into necklaces or clip them to his clothing.”

Virgil looked over at Patton and nodded shyly. Patton immediately perked up. “I’ll go get some supplies!” he said.

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 14 Part 15

#sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #character thomas #virgil sanders #little kestrel #adriana writes #birds of different feathers #not pieces fic #implied/referenced child abuse #assassination attempt #knives #torture mentioned #captivity

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headfulloffantasy · 3 years

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First Lines Meme

Thanks for the tag @nock-and-bolt and @sv926 !! <3 This fits well with the Wip game xD And the concept is so cool! How do I start my stories.

List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

DBH/Reed900 fics

“Gavin? Gavin, hey! Are you even listening to me?” (Soft Spot)

The air rushed past him, whistling in his ears while the ground came closer and closer, making him grip the handles of his blades tight as he jumped down the roof of the old church, now just a sad pile of stones and tiles, like a memorial of what had happened to the people living here many years ago. (Valerian)

„Uuhh.“ (The scent of lavender) XD

Gavin needs the money, he tells himself as he undresses in front of 15 pairs of eyes studying his body. (Fine lines and heartstrings)

„I look pathetic.” (Just another job)

Gavin was a light sleeper. (Cookie Monster)

Nines tried to be as careful as possible as he dabbed the alcohol on the wound, a cut across the forehead. (Patch me up)

“Nines, can’t you tell me where we’re going?” (Smile for me)

Gavin looked down at the small blue box, wrapped with a red ribbon. (Secret Santa)

"And the explosion was soooo big, you could see it all over Detroit's night sky!" (Fluffy family wip - Pops and Daddy)

"Shh, stop moaning or the kids will hear us." (Fluffy Family wip - Morning as parents (nsfw xD))

„I can’t believe you taught our daughter to 'kick someone in the balls' when they are mean to her.” (Fluffy Family wip - Phck)

Yeah so, voila ^^ I probably have more shorts flying around on tumblr, but I wasn't smart enough to make a tag for them. 😅 So have my Ao3 stories and the beginning of a few wips. This was so fun 😊 The pattern I notice is that I like to start the works with direct speech and just throw the reader into whatever is happening 😂

My favorite opening line: Hmm. I laughed the hardest at the Fluffy family wip Phck xD But one of my all time favorites will be Soft Spot's opening because it gives me nostalgia. Was my first real fic on Ao3. So I have to go with that one.

Tagging: @fandom-necromancer @sv926 @yayen-chan @six-video-game-peaches @msquarmby @pinkwebby @xxnounaxx @inspiration-in-process @nock-and-bolt @phckingusername @tristinai @yvy-900 If you write and want to of course 💙

#tag game #first lines #this was really interesting to see #love the concept #fantasy talk

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nutley-rp · 3 years

Photo

GETTING TO KNOW THE MUN

(That’s my kitty, Pixie!)

NAME: Nutley! :D

NICKNAME: The Nut, Nut, Nutto

FACECLAIM: >:3

PRONOUNS: She/her

HEIGHT: 5 ft 4 in

BIRTHDAY: It’s a secret to everybody

AESTHETIC: Like my fashion choice? Loose jackets and streetwear.

LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO: This amazing gem! (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8uDQ0P9AWc8)

FAVOURITE MUSE(S) YOU’VE WRITTEN:

FF14: They’re all my favorite...I do think I’m a world focused writer as opposed to character focused. That’s why I make so many NPCs and get drawn in on how their stories weave together for some overarching message. Anyway, Cravs if I had to choose! I’m a sucker for tsunderes xD

OTHER: Tully! A character I made in my ACNL days. I really enjoyed his muscle-bro friendship with Peck. Not really a RP character but one that I still think about from time to time. It doesn’t matter when or where, I love good friendships and ill-fated characters that fight against circumstance.

GETTING TO KNOW THE ACCOUNT

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO TAKE ON THIS MUSE:

My path to roleplaying as Cravs is all over the place...When I first started FF14, I made a character with my partner, but it felt like I was ‘held back’ from making MSQ progress if they weren’t also playing. So I made an alt on Balmung to go at my own pace, leaving open the possibility of rping with her someday. That alt was Aiswyda. I found Heartwood and soon after, being the wacko I am, decided to run an arc (Crystal Beasts) with almost no FF14 rp experience under my belt. Things naturally progressed from there as I worked backwards to fill in Wyda’s story. A big step forward was writing “Hound Dog Blues,” which set main themes of sisterhood, finding courage, and coping with loss in stone...it also sealed Wyda’s fate in stone? I wrestled with that for quite some time before finally deciding to go forward with it. Cravs was originally a side character in Wyda’s backstory and now she’s her own, fully fledged person! I do, in fact, like to have my cake and eat it too. Nothings truly closed, anything’s possible. :D

WHAT ARE YOUR FAVOURITE ASPECTS OF YOUR CURRENT MUSE:

Crav's struggles are a reflection of my own. Of avoiding problems, of being scared of change, of being genuine while having ‘baggage’ of how others perceive you now. There’s a story I’m trying to tell with her, and I can learn from it too. I’m trying to.

Simply trying to improve is enough. You will not be able to resolve everything. You will make mistakes. You will be scared and that’s okay too. Hang onto your friendships. Do what you feel is the right thing to do; that’s enough. Take ownership of what has happened and what will happen, so anxiety doesn’t rule over you anymore. And one day, you will look back and see yourself, the same but different. And you will look forward and see yourself, different but the same.

Cravs will not be forgiven by all - there are things she has done that are simply unforgivable. It is what it is. You can only do what you can do now.

Ahh this got personal didn’t it? Sorry!! But I think this all is very human, and it’s interesting how storytelling impacts us. Fantasy affecting reality! <_>

WHAT’S YOUR BIGGEST INSPIRATION WHEN IT COMES TO WRITING:

My rp partners!! Reading what they’ve written, chatting about scenarios, etc! But to be honest, what inspires me most is knowing that they also enjoy rping and we can rp together and it’s fun! Hanging out with a real person, nerding out over OCs and writing, is great motivation for doing it again. That’s why only in-game rp keeps me hooked, and why OOC chemistry is important. The collaboration and human aspect is what’s great about rping, otherwise I’d just write alone.

Other inspirations are the games I play - I steal bits here and there. And then music for fueling daydreams of course!

Roleplaying is great...it’s led me to write, draw, make videos, run campaigns, hang out with cool people...Without it I definitely wouldn’t be creating so much. Roleplaying is my biggest inspiration when it comes to roleplaying pwahahahha

FAVOURITE TYPES OF THREADS:

A balance between the mundane and the spectacular! You need the ‘normal’ to give weight to larger events. Also, doing too much of one thing gets stale or becomes taxing.

Thanks for the tag @bek-sc! Tagging: YOUuuuu *dabs*

#big ol' block of text yessiree

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firewoodfigs · 4 years

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we might be made of scars, but we’ll be alright

read on ao3 | song: miho fukuhara, let it out

For @royaiweek day 3: old wounds - thank you mods!! 💕 y’all are amazing ✨

(a/n: it’s my first time trying out the “5+1 things” tag, and I thought I’d experiment with another writing style again xD feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated! <3)

“This one had it coming, this one found a vein This one was an accident, but never gave me pain This one was my father's, and this one you can't see This one had me scared to death But I guess I should be glad I'm not dead” - Stone Sour, Made of Scars

Lieutenant Hawkeye traces the long scar on the back of her calf idly as she changes out of her military uniform. It’s coloured a faded, nostalgic pink, and it reminds her of the innocent childhood that she shares with the Colonel.

She’d gotten it from a bad fall when she was only twelve, and her father’s apprentice had been terribly worried when he witnessed her limping back home. He had rushed over immediately with a first aid kit in hand, before propping her gently on the couch as he pleaded with her to let him take care of it.

It was hard to say no to such an earnest face like his. Having already suffered enough from the long walk back home, Riza wanted nothing more than to rest at that point. Eventually, she relented, though with a hint of distrust.

Because they weren’t even friends then, and what business did he have being so nice -?

“It might hurt,” Roy whispered before dabbing the damp gauze pad on her wound.

Hydrogen peroxide on open wounds, of course, stung like hell. But for every wince, every grimace, he’d responded with a soft apology, whispering soothing platitudes as he worked on the gaping wound meticulously to avoid causing her further pain.

It was the first time Riza had felt a touch so tender and kind.

Even then, his compassion hadn’t stopped there. After he was done with the bandages he had practically ordered her to bed and appointed himself as head chef despite her objections.

“You can’t be moving around like that,” he said, ushering her into her room while lending his shoulder for support. He had helped her - much to her abashment, and much to his amusement - onto her bed, before commanding her to stay put while he prepared dinner. She obliged reluctantly, fiddling with her blanket while waiting for him.

Not too long after, he came back with a bowl of hot stew and a delighted, affable smile.

“Thank you, Mister Mustang,” she said shyly.

Roy frowned. “Please don’t call me that. Just… just call me Roy?”

She politely refused, telling him that it would be terribly inappropriate to do so, but something between them had changed. Any tension that might have existed previously was beginning to dissolve, and Riza was starting to treat him less like the plague.

Sensing this, Roy continued to stay by her side despite her proverbial disinclination for small talk, hoping to finally befriend the introverted blonde.

Over dinner, then, he’d regaled her with tales of his unfortunate misadventures with alchemy when he first started out and silly jokes that he often made with his sisters. In turn, she had reciprocated with reserved laughters and hunting mishaps of her own and a budding trust.

In the end, the injury became an insignia of when her loneliness ended, and when their friendship started.

ii.

Then, of course, there were the scars on her back that contained deadly secrets, prolix poems and meaningless apologies. To an alchemist, the intricate, complex array might have been beautiful. A transfiguration of sorts, even.

To Riza, though, it was nothing but disfiguration in its purest, most unadulterated form. Engraved within were memories of pain and abuse and estrangement, and she would have honestly appreciated being able to live without a daily reminder of those.

He had known he was dying, even before Roy returned from the military, and had called this his parting gift. To her, to an apprentice worthy of its power, to the world. Donatio mortis causa.

Riza thought it was the furthest thing from a present - it was her father’s curse to her, and it would haunt her even after his death.

And when he’d finally passed… Riza had been terrified to show it to Roy.

It wasn’t so much that she didn’t trust him, but - would anger consume him at the realisation that her father had done this to her? God forbid - would he think of her as ugly, marred? Would he still think of her as desirable?

But he was the chosen one; the one that her father had deemed worthy of learning flame alchemy. Ultimately, her desire to assist his goals, his wonderful dreams and ambitions for the future and for the country had outweighed whatever trivialities that might have deterred her from doing so.

With trembling hands, thus, she had unbuttoned her cardigan to reveal the array to him. He’d been speechless. There was a silence that lingered in the thin, dusty air of the Hawkeye manor, but before it could persist he had crossed the distance between them in two long strides.

“Riza,” he whispered. Her hands weren’t the only ones trembling - his hands were, too. She felt it when he rested them on the planes on her back, tracing the grooves of her spine reverently, affectionately.

The trembling hadn’t stopped even when he circled his arms around her waist to bring her into a warm embrace. He had whispered apologies onto her shoulder, then. Blamed himself for not being there to stop his teacher, her father, from doing this to her, for leaving her alone to deal with this. It was a sincere apology, unlike the ones inscribed onto her skin.

Suddenly, the weight on her back had felt a little lighter - perhaps from a burden shared, or from his sweet reassurances.

Either way, Riza remembers it as the night where her trust in him had developed into full bloom.

iii.

Eventually, though, Riza comes to learn that psychological wounds ached more than physical ones. The latter was temporary, but the former - hell, they were indelible, inescapable. This much was heavily reinforced, at least, by the horrors of war that they had encountered during their time in Ishval.

She’d told her superior officer that a gun was good, because it didn’t leave the feeling of a person dying in her hands. It was a partial lie. One that she was willing to let slip from her mouth placidly if it meant that she could be by his side and utilise her gun as a tool for protection, rather than murder and war and genocide.

Because no matter how much she scrubbed her hands after in the sink, she realised that she could never wash away the red on her hands. While the distance between her and her unfortunate victims meant that blood had never fallen on her hands, the entire experience had stained her soul a deep crimson.

It warped her heart; her conscience and morality, and it was a burden that she - no, they - would carry to their graves.

Nonetheless, Riza finds herself sending a short prayer of thanks to any god willing to hear from a wretched sinner like her as she stares at Roy’s peaceful sleeping form. Dreamless slumbers like these were uncommon for the Flame Alchemist, the Hero of Ishval, but it seemed like they were getting increasingly frequent as they progressed along further with the project after the Promised Day.

(Of course, neither of them had come to forgive themselves entirely. They probably never would - for their burdens and sins and iniquities still remained, and would linger on to their very last breaths.)

But their work of atonement and reparation had assuaged their consciences somewhat, even if only marginally. Roy, most of all, deserved this brief respite. He’d been working himself to the bone ever since he regained his vision, and she found herself having to play the role of babysitter less and less.

Riza allows a subtle smile to cross her stern features as she drapes his coat over his tired frame before returning to her paperwork.

iv.

After the war came the burns on her back. They’re splattered across her upper back in irregular splotches of pink; etched with guilt and reluctance and self-reproach.

To say that asking Roy to burn her back was difficult would be a gross understatement. He had already endured enough, and to ask him to use the power bestowed upon him to burn even more skin was akin to putting him through another round of purgatory.

Riza was disinclined to repeat his suffering, but she needed it. Desperately. She couldn’t bear the thought of creating another Flame Alchemist, and the array was literally a back-breaking burden. She’d begged him once, twice before he relented. Very unwillingly.

They’d gone back together to Tobha to do it, back to the now-decrepit Hawkeye estate that held an eerie resemblance to a haunted mansion. In some ways, it was poetically fitting - ending it where it had first begun. The estate bore apparitions of their innocence, their childhood memories, but now it would bear the ghost of flame alchemy as well.

Riza came to learn, then, that whatever she’d conceived of as pain from having hydrogen peroxide dab at an open wound paled in comparison to fire searing her skin. It took all of her willpower to not scream, but she withheld the urge to do so. Even if it meant biting her lips, digging her nails into her palms until they bled.

Like he had once done when they were children, Roy was quick to come to her aid. He came with water ice-cold and embraces lovingly-warm; painkillers and repeated apologies and constant reassurances.

Riza manages to respond to all of this with reminders of forgiveness through her pain. Because for the first time since the needle had met her skin, since the war, she’d felt free. Liberated.

Libera me.

Roy had allowed her to be Riza Hawkeye - her own person, her own being - instead of just the bearer of a lethal, fatal secret that could kill thousands. Despite how much it pained them both to burn her back, she's never been more grateful.

Had she murmured her thanks, her apologies? Riza’s not quite sure. The memories after are a blur. She only remembers passing out in Roy’s arms and the tender, apologetic kiss on her forehead before unconsciousness had dawned upon her like a comforting blanket to stave away the unbearable pain.

The cold water falling on her skin in the shower reminds her of his warmth after the flames had died down. Riza can’t help but laugh slightly at the distant memory.

It’s ironic - Roy lives up to his moniker for reasons more than one.

v. / vi.

But none of the scars she’s sustained throughout her life can compare to the ones they’d gotten from The Promised Day.

The only comfort through all the hell they had endured was probably the fact that they were now lumped together in the same hospital room. Nonetheless, the quiet solitude of night-time is filled with unspoken apologies and unshed tears. It’s unbearable. Roy can feel the guilt radiating off every fibre of her being despite his blindness, despite the distance separating them -

- and so he orders his subordinate to come over.

Hesitantly, Riza complies. She crawls into his bed cautiously, careful not to jostle the wounds on his hands. They mark her failure. Roy was nearly killed before her very eyes, and she’d been powerless to stop it as the sword pierced through his palms. She wants to cry, wants to wail out loud and mourn for his loss of sight, for how useless she had been in the face of it all -

- but her vocal cords are strained. The only thing that escapes her throat is a soundless sob. Riza forces herself to hold in her tears - you don’t deserve to cry, no, stop - but Roy knows. He knows her like the back of his hand, and so even if she’s temporarily mute he can already hear what she’s going to say; even if he’s blind he can see the tears beginning to glimmer in her ochre eyes.

With a bandaged hand he carefully finds her face and caresses it tenderly. “It’s not your fault, Riza,” he whispers.

There’s a wetness to her cheeks now, like it’s raining. “Please don’t blame yourself,” he murmurs. “If anything, all the fault’s mine.”

As if to reinforce his point, his fingers make their way down - to her jaw, and then to the dressing on her neck. A sigh escapes his lips as he traces the scar underneath, remorse and regret dripping from his fingertips.

“No -” Riza croaks. Not your fault, Roy.

“If it’s not my fault, then how could it ever be yours?”

She’s silent again. There’s so much she wants to say - I’m so sorry, Roy, I should have been there, should have done something, can you ever forgive me, I was so afraid to lose you - but the wound renders it impossible.

Regardless, they’ve always had a knack for understanding each other, even without words or eye signals.

He searches for her face again, using it to guide his lips to her forehead. “Not your fault,” Roy says once more for added emphasis. His voice is louder than a whisper this time. It’s filled with conviction and relief and affection, and in their close proximity he can’t help but press a chaste kiss on her messy fringe.

“I was so afraid of losing you, Riza. Nothing scared me more than seeing you bleed on the ground, watching you almost… almost dying.”

They’re both crying uncontrollably now.

“But you’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I might never get my sight back, but I have the Hawk’s Eye with me,” he manages to quip through his sobs. “With you by my side, I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine, Riza. As long as we’re together.”

Riza manages a slight nod under his chapped lips, before reaching for his hand to place a gentle kiss on it. It’s a soothing salve to the dull ache underneath and a promise, a vow. I’ll always be with you, Roy.

Roy retracts his hand to wrap his arms around her, pulling her body to his chest in a tight, haphazard embrace. Riza feels his heart beating against hers, all life and strength and fervor, and she thinks he’s right.

“We’ll be alright, Riza. I promise.”

#royai #royaiweek20 #royai fic #royai fanfic #royaiweek #young royai #ishval #post-promised day #fma #listen I was listening to let it out while writing this and crying #especially at the last part #HAHAHAHA

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calliecat93 · 4 years

Text

Top 5 Things I Disliked About Red vs Blue: Season 2

When I decided to do this series, I knew it was gonna be hard to do lists for Blood Gulch. Not because I can’t think of anything I like or dislike specifically, but as I said before, BGC is mainly comedic driven. The worst I can say is ‘this isn’t funny’ and critique the earlier production standards. Which that’s kinda mean since they were working with what they had and trying to learn to do the show. As such, I have to reach on Dislikes for these and S2 was a tough one in that regard. I managed to come up with five, but GOD I had to stretch haaaard on it.

But still, I did it. Just remember, take this with a grain of salt. So here we go, Top 5 Things I Disliked About RvB S2.

#5. Doc

If you asked me which of the BGC to write out and never bring back… I’d probably have to pick Doc. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate him, but I’ve also never loved him. He comes off more whiny than funny, and most of the time he’s only funny due to the back and forth with O’Malley. Otherwise, usually… he’s just there. Even here in S2, while having a pacifist medic in a cast where several are trigger happy could lead to some funny stuff, Doc was just an annoyance. The situations he got into were funny, like getting knocked into the Warthog when the Blues unknowingly made it go rogue, but he was literally just there for the ride. Something IDT later season really improved aside form 16 and 17, which tbh I think is stretching it.

IDK, I just find Doc whiny and kinda boring. Even if he’s meant to be the annoying, disrespected nice guy, doesn't Donut kinda fit that slot already? Heck, they both even have the recurring ‘disappear for seasons and then suddenly comes back’ joke. The only times that I feel invested in Doc is when he has O’Malley, which is how he re-entered the plot here. I’m gonna save more about that in the S3 posts, but on his own? Doc just… doesn’t really work and I didn’t really miss him in between the Reds dumping him and him reappearing when O’Malley infected him. It’s also a flaw IDT recent seasons have really fixed, though they are trying. Plus I don’t hate Doc and some jokes with him do work (the gag of his naming made me giggle), I'm just… indifferent. But that’s why he’s at the top of the list since the most I can say is I find him whiny and not as funny,

#4. The Cyborg Subplot

So due to losing Lopez and because he’s Sarge, Sarge decides to turn one of the Reds into a cyborg to do all the stuff that Lopez did. He settles on Simmons. Now in and of itself, the subplot is fine. It leads to a good few jokes, like Grif trying to ruin Simmons’ parts after the surgery or a few gags like Simmons shooting his own foot and of course, faxass. While IDT the season would have been hurt without it, it has plenty of funny bits. Sow hat’s the problem. Well… like I said, cutting it wouldn’t have hurt anything. It kinda is just there to give the Reds something to do during the O’Malley and Tex stuff since otherwise, they’d just be standing around and taking… well, more than normal. Otherwise, it’s only significance plot-wise is Tucker tuning into their frequency, which is important in the finale when he picks up Vic and Sarge’s conversation.

So yeah, the subplot isn’t all that important. But it is still funny, so I don't mind it being there. But nowadays… how much so we see this come up? I mean Grif got mutilated by a tank and got another guy’s body/organs haphazardly stitched on. Simmons, while he possibly gave up those parts to Grif willingly, was otherwise forcibly converted into a cyborg. This… hasn’t really come up again. I mean the only time I think Simmons mentioned it in-show was as a brief joke in S11. Nine seasons later. I don’t think Grif’s side of it has come up at all ever again. Though… considering you can only get so many jokes out of this setup since everyone is always in armor, I do understand why. Though I feel with Simmons’ side at least, they could play with it some more, both comedically and maybe even storywise. But that may be my need for Simmons content talking…

So yeah, the subplot was okay. It’s at Number Four since I don’t hate it and it was funny. I just feel like nothing would be lost without it, especially since it pretty much never comes up again. Maybe one day though, who knows? At least the fanfic writers keep it alive XD

#3. The Caboose Forgetting Church Thing

Okay this is brief, but it does annoy me. During the whole trip into Caboose’s mind, Caboose’s memory of Church gets shot. As such, Caboose forgets who Church is. Makes sense, O’Malley killed the personification of Church in Caboose’s mind, so his mind would forget it. It also explains why Caboose got, well… for lack of a better way to put it, intellectually challenged later on due to having three AI’s in his brain and all the chaos that broke out. But Caboose forgetting Church lasts like… one episode? Maybe two? Anyways, Burnie explained on the commentary that it was just too hard to write out so they did one joke with it, and then just dropped it. Probably for the best... but then we have to figure out how this works in-continuity... damn it.

Really this is only on here because it forces me to try to figure out how this is possible in a show sense. Which yeah I probably don’t need to, but I am a continuity loser who tries to piece together these things. If I had to guess, maybe the memory of Church fixed itself somehow or Caboose was able to recall after being around Church for a little while. But I honestly really don’t know, and trying to think it through hurts my brain. It also did little to nothing either story-wise or comedy-wise, at least we got a few jokes out of the cyborg subplot. IDK, I feel like they gave up on it too soon. But then again this is the saga where they’ll break/ignore continuity for the sake of a joke and that’s just how these seasons worked. Hence why I put it smack-dab in the middle.

#2. Some Holdover S1 Issues

You can tell that there was a mass improvement in terms of production for Season Two. Pacing felt stronger, more was going on, characterizations began to settle in, and they even began to form more of a plot. They clearly had a much better idea of what they were doing now that they got through Season One and I think things like Matt becoming more involved in writing and production as well as Gus moving back to work on the show really helped as well. That being said, not everything got resolved. Most did, but there are still a few holdouts.

Audio mixing is a LOT better, especially when it comes to effects. The filter is still a little distracting, though better compared to S1. Not all the characterizations really set in. Grif and Donut are about 75% there and Simmons and Tucker are probably the least set in stone. The traits are there, like Simmons clinginess to Sarge and Tucker actually showing some competence when forced to, but nothing set in stone. Donut’s also on the right path with his hobbies and tendency to babble into TMI territory, but the voice is still off and his personality isn’t quite there yet. There’s some other, but I’ll touch on it in the Likes list. Some jokes could also still drag, like the whole switch joke where some of Church and Tucker’s back and forth went on a little too long.

We’re clearly making progress, but the mark hasn’t quite been hit. It’s still an improvement over S1 though, the pacing especially. This is nitpicky, but still it’s there. But hey it’s progress, and that is never a bad thing. So yeah, RvB is still evolving here, but the progress bar is loading steadily and trust me, by S3 I think we’ll be settled in… well, for the most part.

#1. Some Outdated Humor

The BGC was made from 2003 to 2007. Obviously, there’s gonna be some stuff that is outdated. Take the graphics themselves for example. Halo has evolved, so the game can look a little outdated, especially when you compare the original footage to the remastered footage. Let's put it this way, VIC is uncanny in the remaster… and is utterly horrifying in the original version. Thank God that the DVD is the remaster and I was spared of looking at that monstrosity. Visuals aren’t the only thing though, some pop culture references can also come off as outdated, like Creed joke in the RL vs Internet PSA. So can some of the humor that shows how stupid we were back only two decades ago.

There are… some jokes that are uncomfortable to listen to. For example, there’s the Grif shaming himself joked by saying he’s a girl and likes ribbons in his hair. It’s not the worst joke and clearly, it isn’t made to offend… but nowadays I think it could look offensive to certain individuals. It didn’t necessarily offend me, but it did kinda make me feel uncomfortable when I first watched it, but it could be me thinking it over too hard. There’s also the casual usage of the R word. Last season it came up a bit, but I noticed it came up more frequently here. Not excessively, but there were quite a few instances where it was treated as a casual curse word. Obviously back in 2004 we didn’t realize this was an offensive term, and I think they’ve even said that they regret the casual usage of it during the early years. You certainly would probably not hear that word used unless maybe to emphasize how terrible a character is, but even then I think they’d be more careful.

Now obviously RvB uses a lot of adult and offensive humor, especially in this era. I guess you can kinda call it the web version of South Park, only RvB has never really resorted to shock humor. It puts it above many, /many/ animated adult comedies in that regard. Still, when you run for this long, you’re gonna have some outdated elements. It’s not necessarily their fault, it just shows that times has changed. Still, it does make some stuff hard to look back on without cringing, and I imagine that the Founders would agree. So yeah… there’s just some stuff that wasn't fun to look back over and S2 isn’t the only offender, but this was where it stood out to me and took me out of the moment. As such, it is Number One.

(Top 5 Likes)

#rvb #rvb reviews #top likes/dislikes

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mycandylovefanatics · 5 years

Note

I loved when anon asked about the boys getting stoned xD I was dying of laughter. Can you please do that for Nath, Priya, and Ken? You're awesome 😊😍

Nathaniel

Nathaniel is another one to not want to regularly get high, if at all. Honestly I really don’t think using marijuana is in his realm of activities lmao he might have tried it out of curiosity ONCE after high school or something but there’s also a chance he stayed away from it altogether. Idk man I need more information on this dude but ANYWAYS for this scenario we’ll say he tried it out.

He’s been stressed as all hell this past week, and he thinks he’s about to lose his mind if he can’t catch a break at some point. We’ll use the same outing scenario as last time. You invite him to hang out with you and some friends for a little get together. He has nothing better to do so why not?

He’s having an okay time, enjoying your company but you can feel that he’s still a little tense. “Nath, are you okay? You seem a little out of it tonight.” And he’ll sigh, “I know, I’m just pretty stressed out. I have to deal with some... things this week.” You already know from the look on his face what he means by ‘things’. You think of something to make him feel better, to get him to relax and then you remember! You brought some goods with you. You offer him to take a hit off your dab pen, and the look on his face is hilarious. He’s like wtf candy since when do you smoke the DEVILS LETTUCE? Nah, lmao he’s not a prude or anything anymore but he’s definitely a little taken aback by your offer. “When did you start…?” His first reaction is to get a bit annoyed with you, because he’s not really a fan of any of that stuff. Buuuut when he feels the headache that he’s had for three days straight now, he’s like “...Fuck it.” He knows that weed has its medicinal purposes, and even if it isn’t intended for that in this case, at least he knows it doesn’t have necessarily bad effects. And he trusts you enough to know it’s not laced lmao In this case a dab pen for him is the best option because he doesn’t want to have to keep dealing with that burning lung sensation. Let him take one good hit and leave it at that. He’ll still cough though cause poor baby has never done this before.

Give it a good 30-40 minutes. You’ll probably notice he’s high before he does. You’re all chatting about any and everything. He’s listening, laughing occasionally when someone says something funny. He’s holding your hand, man it feels so nice and warm. He realizes his headache is gone and he feels great. He thinks he’s perfectly fine, until Rosa asks him a question. “Nate do you want another beer?” And Nathaniel just looks at her, and it takes him like ten whole seconds to respond. He’s like “......what??” And now he’s even more confused because everyone is laughing at him, but this just makes him laugh right along with them. “What’s so funny guys?”

And then self awareness hits him and he’s just so… chill? He’s the type of person who gets high and just rides the wave man. He knows he’s high, he can tell because he feels like everything is moving in slow motion lmao. But it feels niiiice. His whole body relaxes, his headache is gone, and he’s got his girl next to him? Hell yeah. He’s fine but just check on him occasionally to make sure he doesn’t need anything. He’s got real bad cotton mouth so some water will do him well. “Nath are you okay?” You ask, and he just looks at you with this dumb smile on his face, his eyes nearly closed from how much he’s squinting. “...uhhh yeah I’m good babe,” he giggles a bit. And then he’ll go back to his little realm of paradise. Honestly he’s handling this pretty well for his first time, just keep holding his hand to comfort him and all will be well.

Priya

I have no doubt that Priya has definitely had a few encounters with Mary Jane. She may not be a regular smoker or anything but when she’s in a really good mood she for sure will indulge herself in some recreational activities. 4/20 celebrations are always fun if she decides to go that year. She’s definitely more of a blunt gal too, so she can pace herself. She knows her limits and she knows how to handle herself probably the best out of everyone. But she’s not stupid and she’s not going to smoke if she doesn’t know who the green is coming from. She doesn’t trust just anyone and she certainly doesn’t pass the blunt to just anyone. Only trusted friends in her circle, so you, Rosa, Alexy, Morgan, Castiel, etc. Honestly if she feels like everyone would be okay and comfortable with it, she might be the person offering it up in the first place lmao. And Priya’s got some GOOD shit so don’t try to hog the blunt or you’re gonna end up on your ass somewhere. (Lemme get your weed man’s number girl)

When she’s high she’s sooooo chill and nice to be around. She’ll just lie back, laughing and joining in on whatever convo. You’re laying on her chest while she runs her fingers through your hair. She’s like the mom friend when she’s high, because she makes sure everyone is okay instead of the other way around. It’s weird because while she is high, she’s also fully capable of doing everything? Like, she could drive if she really wanted to but she won’t because she’s got common sense.

So with all of that being said, don’t even worry about her. Her and Cas are probably having the time of their lives watching everyone else get all loopy. She also has mad munchies!! So if you can’t find her, your best bet is the kitchen. She’s on the floor with Castiel, both of them eating out of a giant container full of ice cream, not even caring to get bowls. She’ll see you standing there with a raised eyebrow and with a mouth full of triple chocolate brownie ice cream, she asks “You want thome Y/N?” And hands you a spoon. So now you’re sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor with Priya and Castiel all eating out of this container.

Kentin

Ohhhh boy. Kentin is that one who gets wayyyyy too high for his first time. Curiosity probably gets the better of him and he tries an edible. Normally he’s not interested in that kind of thing, but he's around people he trusts, and you’re there so you’ll make sure he’s okay right? He eats about half of it and waits for about 20 minutes. Nothing is happening and he’s like, hm these must be weak and decides to eat the other half too…. Jesus Christ Kentin why are you so impatient all the time. You’re all sitting around Rosa’s coffee table hanging out. Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves with light conversation about whatever, someone is laughing about something. He’s listening, eyeing the burning candle in the middle of the table. Wow, fire is so cool. Oh man, this candle smells so good. At some point, he’s not sure when, but at some point…everyone’s voices turn to a weird muffled background noise. He can hear what’s being said, but none of the words are processing. And man this candle sure is nice to look at??

You notice he’s completely zoned out, eyes red and squinted at the candle. He’s been like that for about 5minutes but to him it feels like it’s been forever. You grab his hand and ask if he’s okay, and that’s when he snaps out of his trance for a bit. “Um, I think so? I feel really heavy Y/N, am I gonna die?” And then he’s like ohhhh myyYY GOD, and he lays his face on the table, groaning. “Y/N I can’t feel my face,” he says rubbing his cheek. And then he keeps rubbing his cheek.

“Oh my god you’re peaking, how much did you eat Kentin?”

And he looks at like and shrugs with his hands up like “I ate the whole thing because it wasn’t working.”

“Kentin that’s why you have to wait at least 45 minutes!”

“Ohhh... haha! Oh well then. Are you gonna take care of me babe?” And at that point you just have to sign and rub his head. “Yes, I’m going to take care of you.”

You really have to watch this one because if you’re not careful he might start freaking out ever so often. Like logically he knows he’s okay with you but his brain is just like no DANGER. Just keep rubbing his head, holding his hand and give him lottttts of water. Keep reassuring him that he’s fine and like Lysander, give him some music to listen to. He’ll be okay after about an hour. Still high as shit, but he feels safe now lmao and you can tell by how he’s dancing completely off beat to music that no one else can hear. Give it another 20 minutes and now he’s bugging you for food. “Baaaabe, do you have any candy? I really want some gummy worms.”

#mcl #amour sucre #mycandylove #corazon de melon #cdm #nathaniel #as #mclul headcanons #mclul nathaniel #mclul priya #mcl kentin #nathaniel headcanons #priya headcanons #kentin headcanons #mcl priya #mcl ken #mcl nathaniel #marijuana #weed

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occasionally-writing · 5 years

Text

The Art Of Making Apple Cider

A/N: Man, I haven’t written for this fandom in a long time. Well, here it is and yes most of the prompts I’m probably going to write are all Fall themed since my favorite season and Holiday is right around the corner! Now, please enjoy the fic and maybe have some apple cider on you as you read? XD

Summary: Patton invites Virgil to go with him and pick some apples for the apple cider he suddenly wanted to make.

Word Count: 1740

“Hiya Virge! Want to help your good ol’ pops out with something?” Patton asked once he noticed the anxious side stepping into the kitchen on a semi-late Wednesday afternoon. Pausing slightly when he noticed the other holding a wicker basket along with a stepping stool, Virgil’s head went to all the bad ideas first before he took a deep breath and stepped towards Patton, placing his hands in his hoodie pockets to show that he got his attention. Grinning happily, Patton explained how Roman had conjured up some apple and orange trees in the backyard of their mind palace and that he wanted to go pick some of the fruit so he and the rest of the sides could enjoy some homemade apple cider. Letting out a hum as he rolled over the explanation Patton had given him, Virgil stared at the fatherly side before he let a small smile lift on his face, nodding to show he would help. “Aww! Thanks Kid-Virge! Now come on! Let’s go out and have some fun, yeah? I’ll tell you the kind of apples we need when we get out there!”

Taking the stepping stool out of Patton’s hold before he ran, Virgil snorted and followed the excited other out the door, following him as they made their way off the stone porch and out into the backyard. Peering around the area, Virgil took in how the leaves of the trees were beginning to color with the promise of Fall coming around the corner. Taking in a deep breath, Virgil grinned when the scent of his favorite season reached his senses, silently applauding Roman for putting so much finesse into everything when it came to the seasons and holidays. Finally making it to the trees, Virgil set the stepping stool down while Patton squinted at all the trees, trying to find the right apples to go with. Spotting the ones he wanted, Patton squealed and pointed towards them, practically bouncing with excitement.

“So, we’re going with the...Honeycrisp and Granny Smith apples?” Virgil asked, making sure those were in fact the ones Patton wanted before he climbed the stepping stool to pick the apples. Nodding, Patton quickly climbed the stool and carefully picked the apples he needed with a gentle touch. Moving towards one of the orange trees since Patton asked him to pick one, Virgil jumped up and skillfully pulled an orange from the tree. Cupping it in his hands, the Anxious side strolled back over to Patton to see that he already had ten apples in the wicker basket, five of the Honeycrisp and five of the Granny Smith. Placing the orange in the basket as well, Virgil sighed softly as the soft Fall breeze twirled his and Patton’s hair around before the air around them was silent again. “Okay, we got the apples. Now what, Pops?”

“Now! We go back inside and get everything ready for the cidering!” Patton cheered, giggling happily as he practically skipped back towards the house. Rolling his eyes as a soft smile rose on his face, Virgil followed the cheerful side in a much slower pace before both of them were now back in the kitchen, getting everything they needed to start the process of making apple cider. “Okay, first we need the slow cooker out...there you are! Virgil, could you cut the orange into a few slivers and make sure to peel them? I’ll get the apples ready!”

Nodding, Virgil got to work cutting the orange and peeling it while Patton got to work with washing the apples and slicing them into little slices, placing them into the slow cooker before he got to work on the others. By the time Virgil got the orange all peeled like Patton wanted, the younger side turned around and carefully slid the fruit into the cook with the rest of the apples. Pulling on Virgil’s sleeve, Patton bumped their hips together playfully as they dunked their hands under the faucet and washed them, rinsing the stickiness the fruit would later leave on their skin if they didn’t. Moving back towards the slow cooker, Patton conjured a huge wooden spoon and began to gently stir the fruits together. Turning towards Virgil, Patton smiled and gently nodded towards the spice cabinet that Logan had Roman install so it would be easier to find whatever spice they needed for cooking.

“Could you get the...ground cloves and the ground cinnamon down?” Patton asked, keeping his eyes on Virgil as he climbed up the counter and looked for the spices that the Moral side listed off. Once he found them, the Anxious side stored them in his pockets before he carefully got down, closing the cabinet doors as he did so. Pulling them out, the younger side gave them to Patton and watched as the side placed them on the counter, now giving the apple cider is full attention. When he was sure that everything was stirred in how he knew they liked it, Patton handed Virgil the spices and smiled brightly at him, moving to the side so the other could get closer to the slow cooker. “Now, we need two teaspoons of the ground cinnamon and a half a teaspoon of the ground cloves!”

Nodding softly to show he was listening, Virgil added the right amount of spice while Patton stirred it all in, making everything was mixed properly. Putting the spices back while Patton finished up, the two carefully added the water and Virgil let the Moral side know when to stop as it was almost full. When he was sure that the fruit was covered by the water, Patton nodded and turned the heat on the slow cooker to high, glancing at his phone to count three hours in. Telling Virgil this, Patton smiled and laced their hands together, pulling the other into the living room of the mind palace to watch the new Steven Universe movie that just got released! They’d been meaning to watch it and now’s their chance! And it would give the cider a chance to cook without them watching for the whole three hours.

“The movie was good, right?” Virgil asked, leaning into Patton shyly before the Moral side clicked some previous episodes to watch. Hearing Patton ramble on about the good parts of the movie, Virgil nodded and snickered at some of the jokes he made before the sound of a timer went off and they were alerted that it was time to check on the apple cider. Sliding in front of it, Patton took his wooden spoon and began to mash the warm fruit, grinning when it mashed nicely, making it into a soft smoothie looking liquid that even had Virgil’s mouth watering. “Weren’t we supposed to add sugar or something?”

“Oh yeah! Brown sugar, can you fetch that for me Virge?” Patton asked politely, flashing the Anxious side a silly face that had Virgil hiding his laughter as he went to grab the bag of brown sugar. Putting in a cup and ignoring Patton’s efforts for him to add more, Virgil quickly snatched the bag away from the sugar loving side before he dabbed a bit of it on Patton’s nose, making his getaway to put the sugar back in the food pantry. Once he got back, Virgil sniffed the air and sighed softly, the wonderful scent of the apple cider they made just beginning to waver around the home, obviously getting the attention of Roman and Logan since the two of them heard their doors open on the second floor. “Better get some Virge before they come down. You know how those two are.”

Snorting softly, Virgil smiled a little and moved towards Patton, grabbing his favorite ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas’ mug and handing it to the Moral side. Filling it up just as the two sides entered the kitchen, Virgil held his mug close and playfully growled at Roman when the Creative side went to reach for it. Having their own given to them, Patton was last to make his and when he did, he noticed that there was barely any left to really fill his mug up halfway. Letting out a small sigh, Patton smiled sadly and took whatever was left, which made Virgil frown. Moving closer to Patton as Logan and Roman bickered about something Virgil rather not get into, the Anxious side pressed their shoulders together and peered in Patton’s mug with furrowed brows. Biting his lip, Virgil glanced down at his own filled to the brim mug before he quickly made the decision to pour some of it in Patton’s cup.

“Here, you can have some of mine. I don’t mind sharing...after all, I had fun today Pat,” Virgil whispered into the Moral side’s ear, keeping his voice low so Roman wouldn’t notice him talking and want to listen in as well. Blinking into his now fuller cup, Patton felt his eyes grow teary as he glanced up and stared into Virgil’s worried gaze. Placing his cup to the side counter for a moment, Patton moved until he was face to face with the other, just staring into his eyes with an unreadable expression on his face. “U-um...Pat? Everything okay? I-if you uh..don’t..w-wha!”

Not getting a chance to finish his sentence, Virgil barely bit back the yelp that left his mouth as Patton pulled him forwards and pressed a quick kiss to his hair covered forehead. Flushing underneath the makeup he was lucky to put on in the morning, Virgil cleared his throat and shyly moved his gaze away from Patton, who was quietly giggling as he lifted his mug back up and hid his grin within the cup. Leaning into Virgil more, Patton sighed and continue to sip his cider, observing the way that the two others finally stopped bickering enough to appreciate the beverage he and Virgil made for the whole group. Making a mental note as he peered at Virgil again, Patton glanced towards the backyard again and wondered how long it would take to quickly make another batch. Afterall, he didn’t want Deceit to miss this yearly special, right?! Making up his mind, Patton kept it to himself as he just listened to the pleased hums the rest of his family gave off as he huddled closer to Virgil, who for once, was completely relaxed as he passed against the Moral side as well.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #mentions of deceit #my writing #Not a request #Please enjoy the fic

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warrentrash · 5 years

Text

unusual love

warren worthington iii x reader

summary: ‘Hi hello! Do you think you could do something for a girl with yellow eyes, wolf ears and tail who can transform into a giant wolf (think twilight style) and they rescue her from a fighting ring where she's been for four years and she's terrified/agressive to everyone but slowly falls for Warren (he falls for her right away but pretends not to but is super sweet to her) ? Sorry I know that's a lot to ask xD It'd mean a lot though! 💖💖.’ requested by @shadowhiver

a/n: im pretty sure you just described a furry and i dont know how to process that so imma just go with the twilight thing and the yellow eyes ALSO I KNOW I KINDA STRAYED FROM THE REQUEST A LIL BUT IT ALL TIES UP I PROMISE

warnings: swearing, TW (TRIGGER WARNING) mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, mentions of mental health, mentions of drinking

the ‘+’ is always change of scene

You weren't nice. So what? There were enough nice people in the world, it wasn't your fault you weren't one of them. Well, you were, once. Many years ago that was.

Everyone in life starts out as innocent, it's what happens later in life that makes you who you are.

Metaphorically speaking, there's scars on everyone’s hearts. The more scars you have, the more lost you are. Sometimes people's hearts are so scarred, that there's no going back for them. Their heart turns to stone, and they aren't given any more chances and they become miserable, and lonely, and just plain cold.

Now you had many, many scars. You've been on the verge of never coming back. After years of abuse, both mentally and physically, it drained you to the point you had given up.

But, there was brighter days ahead.

Your rescuers had found you, battered and bruised, barely alive. Barely breathing. You weren't aware that they had found you until days later when you awoke to a girl dabbing your forehead with a wet towel.

Surely enough you freaked and turned into your wolf form, scaring the poor girl so much she had almost mear fainted. It took three people to calm you down enough you turn back into your human form. You had a panic attack and locked yourself away for days.

Charles eventually came in and explained everything that happened. They found you in a mutant fighting ring that had obviously been evacuated, you were on the floor of the ring, forgotten like a piece of trash, half alive. You didn't remember much of what happened. They brought you to Xavier’s School For The Gifted where you rested and got your health back to normal, though you were still weak.

You were somewhat grateful they found you and let you live at the mansion, but you weren't going to tell them, and you definitely weren't going to be nice to them because of it. Sure, they let you stay, but you couldn't trust them, you could never trust again. Or so you thought.

"Everyone comes back today, do you think you can handle that, Y/N?" Charles asked you as you sat on the end of your bed and he sat in front of you.

Looking at him through your eyelashes, you shrugged the best you could.

Charles sighed and nodded, "I want you to meet a few of my best students, later on. I think you'll benefit from having them around, Y/N.." he said quietly.

“Look, I never said I wanted your help. I don’t need you to tell your student’s to be friend’s with me. I don’t want them, and I don’t need them.” You told him with an icy glare.

“Yet without me and my student’s, you would be dead.” He bit back. You stayed silent as he stared you down. “Now while you’re under my roof, you have to live by my rules. And starting from today, you will learn to work on your anger issues. I understand you have had a tough life, believe me I get that. But there’s hope for you. We have two studen's here who used to do cage fighting like you. They’re fine now, and they work fantastic as part of team. That could be you one day, Y/N. Get some rest, I’ll be back to get you during lunch.”

You stared at your hands while Charles left the room. Maybe he had a point. But you still didn't like the idea of having to meet new people.

When Warren first laid eye's on you, he literally crushed the chip in his hand. You were following Charles who was heading right towards him with a smile on his face. It wasn't that he had never seen you before, he was actually the one who carried you from the ring and onto the jet. He just didn't expect you to be up and about so quickly. If he was being honest, he had a crush on you, but he'd never tell a soul.

"Excuse me, Warren? I hope I'm not distracting you from your... lunch." Charles said as he glared at the boys feet who were on the desk. Warren quickly stood up and dusted his hands on his pants.

"Uh no, nope. What can I do for you professor?" He questioned and glanced at you.

You were watching him with an inquisitive look. He seemed like a clumsy mess. Yet you weren't disgusted by the fact that he just wiped his hands on his pants. If it was anyone else you would have said some nasty remark.

"This young lady here is Y/N L/N. I was wondering if you two would like to spend some time together, get to know each other?" Charles glanced at you and you wore a sour look but nevertheless you sat down in the spare seat.

Warren slowly sat back down as Charles smiled at him before turning to you.

"Behave." He warned quietly before wheeling himself away.

The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, Warren didn't really know what to say so he held the bag if chips out to you. You glanced at them and ignored his offer.

He put them down and puffed his cheeks out.

"So.. cage fighting huh?" He asked. You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "How long were you there for?"

"That's none of your business." You told him and crossed your arms.

Warren sighed a little and continued to sit hunched over, just staring at you. Your golden eyes had him curious. He wondered what your mutation was, it had to be something interesting.

You looked at him again, "why are you staring at me?"

Warren jumped a little, "no reason. So uh, what's your mutation?"

"Look pigeon boy, I don't know what Charles said to you or bribed you with to get you to talk to me, but you don't have to and I would prefer it if we sat in silence." You gave him one last final look before sitting back in your seat properly.

You raised an eyebrow as Warren started laughing.

"Do you think I'm getting something out of this? Up until five minutes ago I wasn't even sure if you were still alive." You sat up taller at his words and he must have realised that you would have had no idea on what would have happened.

He grinned and winked at you, "I'm your lord and savior, baby."

Oh boy..

He held that title over you for weeks. And he promised to stop calling himself your "lord and savior" if you agreed to show him your mutation. So late one afternoon you took him out into the fields behind the mansion to show him.

"Is this where you kill me?" He asked as he followed you quickly through the grass.

"Yes, if you don't shut up." You told him and sent a glare his way.

As you came to a stop, Warren bumped into the back of you roughly. You would have falled over if it wasn't for Warren grabbing your waist. You cleared your throat and stood up, pushing his hand's from you roughly.

"Turn around." You told him as you took a few step's backwards. He was hesitant but did as he was told, he almost turned back around when he heard a loud thud, but he stayed put.

Last time he ignored your word he copped book to the face and he wasn't going to risk another injury.

Warren tensed when he felt something soft nudge his shoulder, and slowly he looked to his left and he completely froze when he saw a literal wolf. But it was bigger than the average wolf, much bigger.

"Y/N?" He asked quietly and turned to see if you were there. You sat down and watched as he went over to your ripped clothes on the floor and began to put two and two together.

"S-so this is your mutantion?" He questioned as he circled you a few times.

Realising he wasn't going to get a reply he broke into a grin. "I like it. You can't talk back." He teased and laughed a little as you growled at him.

Warren will admit, he wasn't prepared to see you like this. Like at all. But another thing he will admit, it was a pretty badass mutation.

People annoyed you. It was as simple as that. You hated being around them, you hated the way you had to interact with them on a daily basis, and you hated the way they were all friendly to you.

After years of neglected and abuse, you learnt to push away all the good things in your life. If you laughed at something, you would get mad at yourself. If your feelings grew for a person, you would push them away.

But that wasn't the case for Warren.

You didn't know what it was, but he didn't annoy you nearly as much as everyone else did. And he was an ass to you most of the time. Maybe that's what it was, you balanced each other out.

The two of you were on the roof of the mansion, you weren't going to lie, the two of your were pretty drunk and how you actually got up there baffled you completely. Though the alcohol seemes be have a heavier toll on you than it did Warren. Then for some reason, you just exploded and told him everything. You told him about how you were homeless and forced into cage fighting. How you escaped death every night. How you became suicidal. How you almost ended everything. How you found out that you couldn't bring yourself to actually do it.

That was the first night you had emotional physical contact with anyone in years. It felt, nice. Different. But in a good way.

Warren didn't say much, he let you vent and express your emotions. That's how he knew you trusted him. He didn't let go of you until you decided to go to bed.

He had carried you down the hall, even though you insisted that you could walk. You even allowed yourself to laugh as Warren threw you onto your bed roughly.

It felt foreign to be laughing. You were drunk, but you were aware of how you felt. And besides feeling drunk, you knew you felt happy. Warren pulled the blankets over your head and patted your head before whispering a goodnight. You watched as he walked out of your room and turned the light off ever so quietly.

You hadn't seen that side of him before, with anyone, ever.

What you didn't realise was that he had fallen for you, and hard. That's why he was always around you. You learnt to tolerate him, and eventually, how to love him.

It took at least a year of Warren trying all his little tricks on you. You then knew that he liked you, and he knew you knew. You liked him as well, but you wanted to make him wait.

You don't know why, but you enjoyed seeing him frustrated with you.

Eventually you agreed to go on a date with him, but warned him you would complain the whole time. And you did, but so did Warren. You went and saw a movie in the park, and you both got kicked out of the area for making such loud comments.

Warren got you to tolerate people. To an extent. Now you can smile at people politely without making any rude comments.

He worked wonders with you. He got you to do things you never thought you'd do. He helped you with your mutation, and you helped him with his.

Some how, you two were meant to be despite the obstacles you both faced to get where you were today.

i know i drifted away from the prompt but i finished this in like an hour aksksk

#warren worthington iii #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington iii fic #xmen #ben hardy

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teekapoaold · 5 years

Text

a big replies post! ❤❤❤

Uff some of these are so old, sry

amphoraesims replied to your photo “it’s a grey rainy day ”

Lovely ❤️

Love grey days ❤

camicrazygirl replied to your photo

eternal love to Bonehilda ��

She sure needs more love!

amphoraesims replied to your photo

lovely pic <3

Thank you!

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

“Things to know about Nellie; she never take off her cape, and she...”

Awwwwww! ��

I know right!

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

��

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

“Dextor do not like bath time!”

Bahahahah! Dextor DOES NOT WANT BATH!!!!!111!!! xD

Heheh xD

froggypixel replied to your post “��”

Love you tooooo��

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

I �� your scenery pictures ��

iii thank you!! ♡-♡

alfalfalegacy replied to your photo “This cutie aged up! Dislike Children // Brave”

she's adorable!!

I think so too!

iliketodissectsims replied to your post “��”

*blows u a kiss*

♡ ♡ (ノ*°▽°*) ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

amphoraesims replied to your photo

Awwww :)

ktarsims replied to your photo “teekapoachive: Teekapoa’s follow gift! A big thank you for everyone...”

��

amphoraesims replied to your photo “teekapoachive: Teekapoa’s follow gift! A big thank you for everyone...”

Love these! Thanks for converting them :D

Glad you like them! :3

pixelbots replied to your photo

��

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

mspoodle1 replied to your photo

Beautiful! ♥

Thank you!

rollo-rolls replied to your photo

❤❤❤❤❤

♡♡♡♡

ktarsims replied to your photo

So pretty!

Thank you!!

ktarsims replied to your post

“I’m v close to a follow stone, so i think when i hit that, i will...”

Being blunt is not always a bad thing. ^-^

True!!

amphoraesims replied to your photo

“wip; Museum // the upper floor”

It looks great!

Thank you, it just takes so damn long to be finish with xD

amphoraesims replied to your photo

Pretty! I love scenery ❤️

Ah me too!! ♡♡

dreamsongsims replied to your photo “Oh noo :(”

So sorry.

It’s okay :3

bravetrait replied to your photo “Bye Champs Les Sims~”

this is SO pretty

It’s honestly soome of my favorite scenery pics i have taken ♡

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

“Off, it’s a good thing sims can’t break a hip”

LOOL! Too right xD That'd be a downright dangerous activity for elders if they could- I bet a hip replacement in Champs Le Sims wouldn't be cheap either ;p

Oh gosh i can imagine, the treetops would be bankrupt! xD

danjaley replied to your post

“�� New icon [needed a change], and congratulations replies below ...”

Awww, I love the new icon! ❤️

Thank you!! ♡♡ (/ω＼) ♡♡

ktarsims replied to your photo

“Ah so i kinda learned to convert objects from s4 to s3, because i...”

Hmmmmm. Ideas... how about silhouettes of spy poses? If that makes any sense.... ��

Sorry i wan’t able to find any good ones :(

iliketodissectsims replied to your post

“Forgot about the summer time change, and didn’t change the time on my...”

mine did too stupid system, why bother setting our timezones huh

I know right!

ktarsims replied to your post “Forgot about the summer time change, and didn’t change the time on my...”

I got so confused by all these time change posts... I had to go and verify that our time change here in California took place a few weeks ago. xD

It honestly is very confusing. And apparently they are going to vote for it to perhaps get it removed. Dunno if it’s just here tho or like eu??

ktarsims replied to your photo “Ah so i kinda learned to convert objects from s4 to s3, because i...”

NIFTY!

Thanks!

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo “After a few weeks of dating Raina moved in ”

They are so cute together :D

They really do fit so well together!!

danjaley replied to your photo “Dawns wall of mounted fishes”

Wow!

It got bigger xD

ktarsims replied to your photo “teekapoachive: Jetson Adventure - TS3 As requested, here is my...”

OMG! ��Awesome!

Thank you ❤️

amphoraesims replied to your photoset “wip; Museum”

Looks great! And more power to you, I could never have the patience for building and decorating a museum xD

Uff it also takes all my patience which is why it takes so long!! Thank you again tho

froggypixel replied to your post “wcif the jetson’s photo in the birthday twirler post?”

YES!Upload them! You can never have too many paintings in your game

So true!!

alfalfalegacy replied to your photo “Thank you for everyone voting for the next heir for generation two of...”

Woo I'm happy Pelorous won! He was who I voted for!

Hehe, i’m excited to see what he will be up to, tho i kinda have lost the interest in the family i hope the new gen will bring it back!

amphoraesims replied to your photo “Sometimes you game is just more pretty unedited”

love this!!!

Me too!! xD

dustofsims replied to your photo

*yawns into a dab*

She really did xD

amphoraesims replied to your photo

“That doesn’t seem safe!!”

Such a cute toddler!!

She really was, really awkward as a ya tho xD

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

��

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

“Aurora skies in snow~”

Gorgeous!!! ��

I thought so too ♡♡♡

ktarsims replied to your photo

WOW

romeo-and-simulet replied to your photo

your scenery is some of the best on here honestly

(*/ω＼) Uhh nuuu thank you so much!!

romeo-and-simulet replied to your photo

it truly does it's so beautiful

♡ (ノ*°▽°*) ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

awww I miss his blue glasses :)

Me too xD, they will make a comeback

mikminicule replied to your photo

“A very dapper boy aged up~ Grumpy // Star Quality // Loves to swim //...”

I love his lil moustache xD That's puberty for you!

I never really put on beard or moustaches on the teens, but it fit him so well xD!

froggypixel replied to your photo

Look at his little peach fuzz��

I know right!

ohthesefaces replied to your photo

“A very dapper boy aged up~ Grumpy // Star Quality // Loves to swim //...”

omg how. freaking. cute.

Hehe, he really was!

littlemicrocosims replied to your photo

oh my god this is tooooo cuuuuute more please

asdfghj i know right, poor ludvig tjo

ninjaofthepurplethings replied to your photo

I'm sorry I haven't said it sooner.... but I absolutely ADORE Ludvig. HE IS SO CUTE ��

Awee, he really is a cutie potutie!

mikminicule replied to your photo “And they are now wife & wife!”

Beautiful :')

it really was :o

mikminicule replied to your post “replies, i didn’t forgot!”

I hate it when the game does that! Even if you've made sure that no they're single, not dating anyone, but nope they set them up somehow anyway?!?!

I know right!! ugh

rollo-rolls replied to your photo

Wow *-*

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

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pippa-writes · 6 years

Text

With regards the lack of Cherik phics...

It wasn’t supposed to be so angsty, but here we are I guess XD

"It's not the same kind of love I have for you," she'd promised, her voice more confident than she truly felt. "It's not the same at all!"

She'd kissed him, though perhaps to reassure herself more than him.

It hadn't worked.

Christine stared up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, and not for the first time. Phillippe snored quietly beside her, as he did every night, completely deaf to the music that seemed to fill the room whenever she closed her eyes. The music always seemed to wait for him to fall asleep, before it began its lonely serenade.

It didn't matter how often she reminded herself the soft sounds of a flute were just in her head, the products of a grieving mind, or how often she listened to Phillippe's or Gerard's gentle reassurances that her Maestro was sleeping quietly five stories below the Opera House, she simply couldn't hear anything else but that terrible music, music so soft and sweet it plunged daggers into her heart over and over until she wept silent tears into her pillow.

Gerard was usually more patient with her when she told him of the dreadful flute of the night. He sat with her as she described the careful notes and calm, gentlemanly rhythm that only her Maestro could create. Sometimes, his tears would join hers and they would weep together for the lost genius, teacher, friend, son. Phillippe tried, he truly did, but he would often times grow weary of her mourning and ask her desperately, usually on his knees before her, to try and cheer up, to perhaps distract herself from the memories of the man who looked at her with all the admiration she'd ever seen a human being possess.

It was such suggestions of distractions that saw Phillippe leading her to a spare room one day, pressing her on from behind with his hands over her eyes. That was how she came to sit daily before an easel with a brush, dipped in a mix of coppery auburn, poised over the canvas.

She always painted the deep blue eyes first, always added the white flicks of light through them, and therefore added life. His eyes kept her company as she painted, for he was all she painted now; the vase of marigolds set on the table before her had long since wilted away into thin stalks over the past three months.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

She closed her eyes and pushed herself up from the mattress, as slowly and quietly as she could, as not to wake Phillippe. Amid the darkness, she found her dressing gown and flat shoes and tiptoed to the door.

Phillippe stirred as she crept out and shut it behind her, but she was already gone, and he slipped back into the thick, cloudy confines of sleep.

Christine knew her way to her little painting room even through the pitch of night by now, as though she'd worn the carpet down and followed the same trail every night. It wasn't too far from the bedroom, just two corridors away and the third room down. She pushed the door open and within minutes the little, converted salon was awash with candlelight.

She set herself before the easel and eased the cover from the canvas. Her breath caught; she'd never get used to meeting those impossibly intelligent, shimmering eyes. Her heart thudded painfully against her ribs. It was no use denying that she missed him, that his death had shattered something so deep within her that it had taken a month or two for her grief to show upon her face. No use denying she often thought of nothing but his voice or music or dreamt of him when she, at last, managed to sleep.

Or that she loved him.

Even Phillippe knew that.

A deep breath to calm her racing heart. Christine found her brush and paints in the little artist's box Gerard had presented her with.

"A friend's," he'd explained when she unwrapped it that sad, terrible Christmas. But the look in his eyes when they caught hers gave it all away.

She treasured that artist's box now. It never, ever left her salon, and woe to any servant who dared enter the dusty confines without her permission.

She hummed as she dabbed some copper into his fluffy hair, hoping the melody would raise her spirits somewhat.

She didn't have the heart to paint his mask. It was always the last addition to the paintings, a begrudging feature she felt she simply had to add out of respect; her Maestro would utterly detest any portrait where he was unmasked. She could never give him an unmarred face, for that simply wasn't him. And yet, she could not bear to detail his true visage, and therefore set in stone his accursed ugliness. And so, the mask must be added, she'd decided unhappily.

Bit by bit, she brought her lost Maestro back to life on the canvas, first by finishing his eyes and hair, then adding the detestable outline of his mask, followed by his ever-pristine clothes, for she would never see him in any less than expensive tailcoats and finely sewn trousers, with newly-polished boots. It was just his noble head and shoulders on the canvas tonight, with perhaps the top of his pocket square peeping from his coat.

"You have nothing to be concerned about," she could imagine him saying, his voice close and soft by her ear. Despite her sorrow, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips and she felt her cheeks go a warm, rosy red. "I have faith; I promise you you're going to be fine."

This had not been the sort of distraction Phillippe meant when he'd funded all the paints and canvases, but what did it matter? Her heart had slowed to a steady pace and her tears had dried on her cheeks.

By now, her Maestro smiled proudly back at her from the confines of his fabricy realm, contained forever in his little prison, unageing, unchanging, undying, and eternally hers.

It was dawn by the time she finished. Servants had long since begun their daily bustling about outside, but still, she sat before the easel, adding carefully placed, colourful marks to the mask and hair. The sun peered over the horizon and almost through window and slowly lit the canvas from top to bottom with its gentle, golden caress. Christine bit her lip. Moving her hand away, the light fell upon her Maestro's eyes. It was as though, for a split second, it had never gone out in the first place.

Someone passed in the corridor, humming, and she jumped. Another voice that sounded too much like her Maestro's, only noticeable for its untrained melody.

A wash of fatigue reminded her that she hadn't slept one wink. She slouched on her stool, washing the brush yet again and setting it aside to dry, free of its colourful stains.

Her eyes almost flitted back to the canvas as she stood to cover it once more and put it away. But no. However long she spent painting, she could never look at the final product, and she feared she would die of guilt if she did. Any finished piece would be covered and put away in the cupboard, one on top of the other in a neat pile, never to be regarded again.

Perhaps if she looked closely, she would notice that the pile never grew.

A yawn. She made sure to lock the door firmly behind her.

Phillippe had already risen when she returned to bed and flopped into the silky sheets in the most unladylike way she could manage. For that brief, sweet moment, she forgot her husband, forgot her duties and forgot her Maestro. Instead, she gazed through heavy-lidded eyes at a pair of stars that the morning light had not yet faded, for the bedroom faced west and the sun had not yet illuminated the shaded tree just yet, and would not for another few minutes.

Her eyes closed, and, at long last, her breaths shallowed.

But what Christine did not realise, was that the stars that peered through the branches of the old oak outside her window, the ones she always watched rise in the night sky as a means to find sleep, could themselves blink. She fell asleep that morning to the same thing that kept her up throughout the night: the soft, lonely sound of a flute.

Yup, I went there. Dedicated to @ladycavalier because I found their profile and was totally inspired to write something Cheristine; thank you for loving the smol Phantom!!

#cherik #cheristine #phantom of the opera #phanfiction #phanfic #phiclet #ficlet #poto #charles dance phantom #erik #christine daae #phillippe de changy #dance!erik #phantom 1990 #it was late #so if this is bad #i apologise #pippa-writes

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idontdohats-archive · 5 years

Note

🎉

((Because I still owe you a fic, I decided to kill two birds with one stone. XD Hope you like it!

It seemed like Christmas had been months ago.

In a way, Harry mused, it had been. They’d been trapped in a kind of pocket universe, created or maybe just shaped and sustained by Mab, for an extended period of time while the queen of the wicked faeries tried in her own indirect, manipulative way to wrest a suppressed memory from Wynonna.

Oh, and there had also been a truth spell in effect. It had caused… issues between them. It had also resolved some of them.

Harry sat beside Wynonna on the couch in the Earp’s cabin, one arm around her shoulders, watching the flames leap and shudder in the hearth. Thoughts whirled inside his mind, and he realized the irony of the fact that there were still many things left unsaid, even after their innermost thoughts had been laid bare to one another only a week ago.

The steady ticking of the clock echoed against the crackling fire, the only sounds in the room. Waverly and Nicole had gone to a party. Harry had in no way wanted to deal with a room full of people he didn’t know, especially the people of Purgatory, and so had opted to stay at the house and help Wynonna finish off the eggnog and cookies.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

He found himself counting the seconds.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The new year was rapidly approaching. A time of new beginnings. Yes, New Year’s Day on the Gregorian calendar was an arbitrary distinction attached more to cultural norms than to any natural cycles, but perception shaped so much of human experience, and when that perception is threaded through a massive collective, reality itself bends and twists and refracts around it. The energy in the air was palpable.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He looked at Wynonna. She had fallen asleep against him at some point and was softly snoring. The coffee table bore the aftermath of their eggnog and cookie indulgence, glasses and crumb-dusted napkins nestled in with an empty bottle of whiskey. Wy had taken a little eggnog with her alcohol tonight. One side of his mouth quirked into a small smile as her watched her sleep, her head resting on his shoulder.

He loved this woman.

He had loved her for years.

In a way, Mab had given them a gift, in her own twisted way. She had made them say the words that they had danced around and avoided for so long. Words have power. They solidify ideas, provide structure for energy, bring tangibility to the intangible. Three simple words that had been floating around in the space of raw potentiality crystallized and shimmered into sharp focus when they had formed on his lips. He loved her. It was a Truth.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Wynonna stirred against him and mumbled as she drifted towards wakefulness. The weight of her head lifted from his shoulder as she sat up, blinking bleary eyes and dabbing self-consciously at a small streak of drool at the corner of her mouth. “Well, shit,” she said. “Guess I fell asleep there for a bit.” She peered suspiciously at her empty glass, her lips turning up into a smirk. “What, did you spike the nog or something?”

Harry snorted. “You spiked your whiskey with nog.”

“Oh. Well, then. That explains it. Nog just flattens me the fuck out, you know. Can’t handle it at all.” Her eyes traveled around the room, the rustic space still festive and colorful from the holiday. “What time is it?”

“About three minutes to midnight.”

Wynonna stretched and yawned, then reached for the whiskey bottle, giving it a shake as she squinted at the few drops of amber liquid left inside. “They’re probably making a hell of a racket in town by now. Purgatory’s annual Blow-Up-The-Sky display. People getting smashed. Smashing things.”

“You could have gone if you wanted.”

“What, and miss all the excitement here?” She pointed at the hearth. “Look, fire!”

“It’s staying in the fireplace and everything,” Harry said.

“See what I mean? Wild. Contained fires are a rarity around you, you know. Almost mythic, like finding a unicorn. Or a lawyer with a conscience.”

Harry snorted again, then stood up, reaching down to pull Wynonna to her feet and then pulling her close. “Well, I am a wizard. We kind of fall right square in the middle of the mythic category. I got a staff and everything.”

“I do like your staff.” Wynonna’s eyebrows lifted as she put her arms around him. “What, we gonna tango? Maybe do a little waltz? Last I heard, you only knew how to ballroom dance, not sway to the music with no rhythm whatsoever like a normal person.”

“I don’t hear any music. And you wouldn’t like me so much if I was a normal person.”

“Point to the wizard.” She let him guide her into the steps of a slow waltz, though she stepped on his feet a few times. She laughed. “I could invent a new dance step. Wizard-stomping.”

Harry grinned and stopped moving as the old grandfather clock began to chime. “How about Wizard-kissing?”

Her smile lit her eyes as she looked up at him. “I could live with that. You corny bastard.”

“Well, good. Me too.” He leaned down to kiss her, wrapping his arms around her and tugging her body against his. Her nearness warmed the ice in his blood, and something stirred inside him that was not of Winter.

It was all him.

When Waverly and Nicole crept back into the house at half past four, they found Wynonna and Harry entwined on the couch, bare limbs tangled together as they slept deeply, covered with a patchwork quilt.

#nowmakeyourpeace #i hope i did wy justice!#prompt was 'peaceful'#my fic #long post

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