#am I crazy. yes. am I also often right when I have hunches on when genshin is going to suck and when it’s going to be good esp character

[waitimcomingtoo]

Peppermint

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: when you wear peppermint chapstick, you discover Peter hates peppermint

Masterlist

It started as an ordinary day.

You saw Peter and Ned in the dining hall between classes and went to join them like you normally did.

“Hi.” Peter smiled up at you from his seat when he saw you approaching.

“Hi, Petey.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders before moving to kiss him. He craned his neck to kiss you back but pulled away sooner than usually.

It only went downhill from there.

You looked at him curiously and sat down, wondering why he stopped kissing you so fast.

“Oh.” He grimaced as he puckered his lips.

“What?” You looked between him and Ned, hoping someone had answers.

“You’ve made a bold choice today.” Peter nodded as he wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand.

“What?” You laughed in surprised.

“A lot of bold flavors going on.” He continued, taking out a napkin to wipe his mouth.

“What is he talking about?” You asked Ned when Peter gave you no answers.

“Oh, I see.” Ned realized. “Is your chapstick spearmint?”

“No, I think it’s-“

“Peppermint.” Peter cut you off with a sour face. “It’s peppermint.”

“Am I missing something?” Your eyes shifted between the boys, still extremely confused.

“Peter hates peppermint.” Ned told you.

“You do?” You laughed and looked at your boyfriend. “Why?”

“It’s so gross. Oh my God, it’s still on me.” Peter gagged as he wiped his lips again.

“What is your problem?” You raised an eyebrow at his odd behavior. “You don’t want to be minty fresh?”

“Thats not minty fresh. That’s disgusting.” He shook his head and rubbed his face. “Ew, my hands smell like it now.”

“How did I not know you hate peppermint?” You sat back in your chair as you wondered out loud. “Is this why you threw up my my gingerbread house party last year?”

“Yes.” Peter answered. “And I guess I never told you because I assumed you would know I hate the most putrid smell on earth.”

“Peppermint is not putrid.” You laughed again, still not taking this seriously. “It’s sweet and minty.”

“No.” Peter shook his head repeatedly. “Evil spawn.”

“No, not evil spawn.” You insisted. “It’s a nice scent.”

“Princess, you know I hate to disagree with you, but I’m pretty sure Satan keeps a an diffuser with peppermint essential oil on at all times in hell.” Peter told you as he squeezed your hand.

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” You teased. “It’s just chapstick.”

You leaned in to kiss him again and he put his hand on your face to push you away.

“No. I can’t.” He gagged. “It’s too gross.”

You stared at him with a dropped jaw, not believing he just pushed you away. You realized that this wasn’t a joke to him and he actually hated peppermint.

“Fine.” You shrugged. “Then I just won’t kiss you today.”

Peter said nothing to this and instead nodded, as if he agreed. You raised an eyebrow, expecting him to object like he usually did if you said you weren’t going to kiss him. Peter was a very affection person, so you often teased him by threatening to withhold affection. You looked at Ned to see if he was seeing what you were seeing, and Ned looked scared.

“Oh No.” He gulped. “This isn’t good.”

“Peter!” You softly hit his arm, making him jump.

“What?” He asked.

“You’re supposed to protest!” You told him. “I’m your girlfriend and I just told you I’m not gonna kiss you.”

“And I’m being a good boyfriend and supporting your idea.” He smiled sweetly at you and rubbed your back. You scoffed and looked at Ned for help, but he offered none.

“School is the only place we can kiss each other anytime we want.” You reminded him. “You know Avengers are still banned from dating at the tower. Are you seriously not going to kiss me because of my chapstick?”

“It’s not because of your chapstick.” Peter told you. “It’s because of the scent of your chapstick.”

“Are you sure this is how you want to play this?” You asked Peter, giving him a chance to change his mind.

“Um…yes?” He said weakly, now worried about your sudden mood change.

“Fine.” You shrugged and stood up. “Then I’ll see you at the tower.”

“You’re not eating with us?” He asked, giving you puppy dog eyes.

“No.” You gave him a tight smile. “Clearly and me and my lips are not welcome here.”

You turned on your heel and walked away, leaving Peter and Ned alone.

“Bye!” Peter called after you. “I love you!”

“That went well for you.” Ned chuckled once you were out of sight.

“You don’t think she’s actually mad at me, is she?” Peter wondered.

“No.” MJ said, making Peter and Ned jump. “She’s not mad at you. She’s upset that you didn’t want to kiss her.”

“How long have you been listening?” Ned asked as he looked up at her.

“Since Ned said Senora Chavez had a nice ass.” MJ stated as she sat down next to Ned. “Listen, I know Y/n better than anyone-“

“Uh, I disagree.” Peter cut in. “Hi, Y/n’s boyfriends, nice to meet you.”

“Cute.” MJ deadpanned. “Best friend trumps boyfriend. Everyone knows that.”

“That’s not true.” Peter snorted. “Is it?”

“No.” Ned answered. “But I also don’t know.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you won’t win this.” MJ continued. “You have to get over your little peppermint tantrum or she won’t kiss you. Simple as that.”

“She can kiss me as long as she’s not wearing peppermint chapstick.” Peter shrugged, not seeing anything wrong with what had happened.

“She’s not gonna stop wearing peppermint chapstick, dummy.” MJ flicked him on the side of the head. “You just started a fight.”

“What? That wasn’t a fight.” Peter insisted.

“It’s a silent fight.” MJ explained. “She’s not gonna say anything about it and wait for you to apologize. If you don’t, then it becomes a real fight.”

“Apologize for what? For hating the worst smell in the world?” Peter scoffed.

“For being a diva and calling her gross.” MJ said like it was obvious.

“I didn’t call her gross.” Peter corrected. “I called her choices gross.”

“And that’s where you fucked up.” MJ made a face. “It’s fine if you don’t want my help, but you’re gonna lose your girlfriend over it.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Peter laughed in dismissal. “I am not going to lose Y/n over something as meaningless as peppermint chapstick.”

“See for yourself.” MJ shrugged and got up. “Later losers.”

Peter sat in silence for a moment as he thought about what MJ had said. You did seem upset when you left, so MJ might be right.

“You don’t think…” Peter began, and Ned knew where it was going.

“No.” Ned assured him. “But also I don’t know.”

“I’m sure we’re fine.” Peter said to convince himself. “It’s just chapstick.”

“Yeah.” Ned agreed. “Unless it’s not.”

“Yeah.” Peter worried. “Unless it’s not.”

~

Peter couldn’t keep the interaction off his mind all day. He could barely focus in the lab later that day when Tony had to take of you writing down chemical reactions he needed in a future experiment. If you were mad, you didn’t let on. But you also didn’t give Peter the impression that everything was fine. After ten minutes of writing in silence, he poked you with his pen.

“Psst.” He whispered.

“What?” You whispered back.

“You look pretty today.” Peter smiled softly at you.

“Oh yeah?” You tilted your head. “Then kiss me.”

Peter’s face fell, cheeky smile long gone.

“I can’t.” He whispered again.

“And why’s that?” You stopped writing to give him your full attention. Peter looked up as he thought of a good enough lie to tell you.

“I’m waiting for marriage.” He answered finally, making you nod your head.

“Were you waiting for marriage when we had sex last week?” You kept your tone neutral.

“I temporarily stopped waiting and I have now resumed.” He corrected himself.

“You’re an imbecile.” You spoke at full volume now, earning a glance from Tony.

“I hate peppermint!” Peter whined. “It’s gross!”

“Dumb and Dumber.” Tony called to you. “Is everything okay over there?”

“Yes, sir.” Peter calmed down. “Sorry, sir.”

“You’re gonna be sorry.” You laughed humorlessly as you started writing again.

“Princess.” Peter softened his voice and stroked your hair. “Just take it off and we can go back to normal.”

“I don’t want to take it off.” You shrugged. “In fact, I think I need some more.”

“Don’t.” Peter deadpanned as you reached into your pocket and took out your chapstick. You smiled sweetly at him before generously lathering the chapstick on your lips.

“Ew!” Peter began to dry heave and got out of his chair. “I’m gonna barf.”

“All right. That’s enough.” Tony sighed and stopped working. “Peter, hit the showers or something. I need you out of here.”

“Gladly.” Peter said as he glared at you.

“Gladly?” You raised an eyebrow. “And you said I was bold?”

“Y/n. You too. Out now.” Tony commanded so you gathered your things. You started putting on chapstick again, maintaining eye contact with Peter as you did it. He gagged before clutched your stomach while pinching his nose. You blew him a minty kiss before walking out of the lab with Peter following behind you.

“Are you happy now? Are you pleased as punch, Parker?” You spat as he continued walking. “Mr. Stark probably thinks we’re crazy now. Or even better, he’s gonna figure out that we’re together.”

Peter ignored you and kept walking, not wanting to talk when he was angry.

“You know what?” You continued. “He’s probably right. Since only crazy people would hate the luscious, beautiful smell of peppermint.”

Peter suddenly turned around and grabbed you, rubbing his hands over your lips to wipe off the chapstick.

“How dare you?” You gasped. “You ghoul!”

“You’re the ghoul!” He shouted back. “Peppermint is a sin!”

Steve and Nat, who were sitting in the living room and watching this unfold, exchanged a look.

“It is not!” You shouted. “You’re just being dramatic!”

“I can’t help it.” He shrugged. “This calls for drama. I hate it so much.”

“How much?” You asked as you slathered it on again. “How much do you hate it?”

“Please.” He covered his mouth and gagged. “I’m gonna be sick.”

“You need to get over this. It’s just a flavor.” You insisted.

“Demon flavor.” He shot back, hunched over with his hands in his knees and coughing.

“This is super weird, right?” Steve whispered to Nat.

“Yeah.” She nodded as she watched the scene in front of her with a disgusted look. “I think we should go.”

You watched Steve and Nat leave the room, feeling embarrassed with the strange looks they gave you. No one actually knew you and Peter were together, so you could only imagine what they were thinking. You looked back at Peter and saw that he was still gagging, bringing you to a decision.

“Fine, Peter.” You sighed and rubbed your mouth on the back of your hand. “I wiped it off. Are you okay?”

You crouched beside him and rubbed his back, worried he was actually going to puke. He slowly stood up and blew out a breath before nodding.

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” He frowned at you. “I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you.”

“I’m sorry too.” You said as you rubbed his shoulders. “We shouldn’t be yelling at each other in the hallway. Someone’s either gonna realize we’re dating or think we’re unstable.”

“Yeah. We do look a bit ridiculous.” He laughed shyly as he looked around.

“Yeah.” You chuckled as wrapped your arms around his neck. “And I’m sorry about the chapstick. I didn’t know you didn’t like it.”

“It’s my fault.” He insisted. “I should have told you. And I definitely shouldn’t have gotten that upset.”

“Maybe not.” You agreed. “But I should not have taunted you after I knew you hated it. That was mean.”

“Just a little.” He pinched his fingers together. “Are we okay now?”

“We’re okay. I love you, Petey.” You rubbed your thumb over his cheek, happy to have resolved it.

“I love you too, princess.” He smiled before leaning in to kiss you. Before your lips could touch, he sharply pulled away.

“Oh no.” He said gravely.

“What?”

“I smell it.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to freak out.

“It?” You wondered.

“Your chapstick.” He admitted, making your groan. “I can smell it from here.”

“I wiped it off.” You whined, pulling your arms away from him.

“The smell.” He gagged. “It lingered. I cant kiss you. I’m sorry.”

“Are you serious?” You out your hands on your hips and stared at him.

“Yes.” He answered. “I’m sorry. Can we make up but not kiss?”

“You’re not gonna kiss me because of a lingering smell of peppermint?” You said as more than a statement than a question.

“This is true, yes.” Peter nodded.

“Then I’ll see you later, Parker.” You shook your head and walked away from him. Peter sighed sadly as he watched you walk away, knowing that wasn’t how he wanted to end things.

“What was that about?” Sam asked as he wandered into the hallway. He overhead the fight from the kitchen and arrived in time to watch you leaving.

“Um.” Peter thought of a way to explain what just happened. “We had a little fight.”

“About what?” He pressed.

“Y/n is wearing peppermint chapstick today.” Peter answered honestly.

“And that concerns you because…?” Sam questioned.

“I don’t like the scent of peppermint.” Peter scoffed. “Does that make me a monster?”

“So what?” Sam snorted. “It’s not like you’re kissing her.”

Peter turned his face to the side so Sam wouldn’t see his inability to keep a secret.

“Hm.” Peter nodded stiffly. “Yes. It is not like I am kissing her. That was be absurd.”

“Right.” Sam said skeptically. “Because Avengers aren’t allowed to date each other. You know that, right?”

“I know.” Peter nodded too many times. “We’re not dating. I just hate peppermint.”

“For arguments sake, let’s say you were dating.” Sam began. “Because everyone knows that you are but no one cares enough to report you.”

“What?” Peter forced a laugh. “That’s ridiculous. We’re not dating.”

“Yeah. And I’m white.” Sam humored him. “If you were dating and fighting over the flavor of her chapstick, I’d give you one piece of advice.”

“What’s that?” Peter asked.

“Get over it and go kiss your girlfriend.” Sam sighed. “It’s just a flavor, but she’s not just a girl. Don’t risk a good thing over a bad scent.”

“Wow.” Peter soaked it in. “That’s pretty good advice. Thanks Sam. I always thought you didn’t like me.”

“I don’t.” Sam told him. “But I like Y/n. And I don’t want to live in this tower while you two are going through a messy breakup. So make up or shut up. Your choice.”

“Okay.” Peter nodded confidently. “I know what I have to do.”

~

Peter went back to his room and began to brainstorm ways to make it up to you. Before he could put his plans into motion, he heard a knock at his door.

“Come in”. He called from his bed.

“Hey, Petey.” You spoke timidly as you opened his door. You weren’t sure if he was mad at you or not, and he was wondering the same thing about you.

“Hey, princess.” Peter smiled softly. “It’s nice to see you. I’m glad you came to see me.”

“I missed you.” You smiled back as you sat on his bed. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just taking my daily vitamins.” Peter said as he laid his gummies out. You furrowed your eyebrows and moved his hand to see what his vitamins looked like.

“These are fruit snacks.” You told him as you held up a bright orange gummy.

“I’m so fragile right now.” Peter whispered before downing his fruit snacks in one go. You chuckled a little at your boyfriends antics and scooted closer to him.

“Talk to me about it.” You said as you rubbed his arm.

“I feel as though our relationship is not in mint condition.” Peter said without looking up at you. You caught on to his pun and let out a groan.

“Peter.”

“I’m sorry.” He smiled weakly. “You look beautiful.”

“What are you doing?” You asked skeptically.

“Giving you a compli-mint.” He fed you another pun.

“You don’t have to do this.” You assured him. “I caved. I’m wearing cherry chapstick.”

“You are?” His eyes lit up.

“Yeah. I threw the other one out.” You shrugged. “I don’t even like the smell of it. It was just the first one I grabbed this morning.”

“You don’t like the smell either?”

“It’s a little harsh on my nose.” You scrunched your nose. “Plus, it burns my lips.”

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Peter smiled wickedly.

“What does this mean?” You laughed.

“We are mint to be.” He said with a cheeky smile.

“Stop.” You whined. “The fight is over. No more puns.”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” He held up his hands. “I’m sorry I yelled at you. And I’m sorry I wouldn’t kiss you all day.”

“I’m sorry I yelled too.” You frowned and cupped his chin. “You can make up for it by kissing me now.”

Peter nodded happily and leaned in to kiss you, giving you a real kiss this time. He pulled away and kept his lips puckered, realizing he was tricked.

“You’re wearing peppermint chapstick.” He said matter of factly.

“Yep.” You smiled. “And you didn’t die, vomit, or burst into flames.”

“Hm.” Peter realized you were right. “It stings my lips a little. I kinda like it.”

“See? It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, it’s bad.” Peter corrected. “It’s just not as bad as I thought. Maybe I was a little too dramatic.”

“Maybe?” You teased.

“Fine.” Peter agreed. “But you knew I was dramatic before you started dating me. If anything, this is all your fault.”

“Why don’t we blame this on the entire concept of peppermint of call it a night?” You suggested and you laid down on his bed. Peter laid down beside you and wrapped his arm around you, still rubbing his lips together.

“You know what, princess? That sounds like a great idea.”

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#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #spiderman

[thesolferino]

Hell On Earth

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: fluff

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: you barge into clay’s office to complain about his broken air conditioner, unaware that he’s streaming.

Florida was hell.

You liked to say it as a joke, during October when the rest of the world was freezing, during December when the insane temperatures finally went back under control, and the sun granted you its blessing of a refreshing gust of wind every now and then. You liked to say it as a joke, mostly, but God, did you mean it whenever summer would creep around the corner and you’d get reminded of why you told your boyfriend so often that the devil must’ve left hell, came down to America, and bought himself a nice penthouse in Florida.

It lived up to its title of the hottest state in the US, by far, considering the hellish temperatures that constantly made you dizzy whenever June rolled around. You had great air conditioning in your apartment, though, and as soon as the sun started burning skin, plants, water, and everything in its way, you and your college roommate would lounge at your place as the air conditioner blew cold wind and thank the lord (and the person who invented AC, bless his heart) for providing you with at least one blessing during these trying times.

So, of course that as soon as summer came about, your air conditioning conveniently broke.

Your roommate was out of the apartment within two days, flying to her family in Wisconsin, bidding you farewell as she left you to cook like a raw chicken in your shared apartment. Thankfully, you had a boyfriend - and what a boyfriend he was.

You don’t like to brag, but at these moments, you feel grateful to the universe and whoever else is looking over you for providing you with a rich boyfriend, with quite a big, echo-y house, and air conditioning made of pure heaven. As soon as your roommate packed your bags, you packed yours too, - if one backpack filled with makeup, your laptop, meds, underwear and hopes that he’d let you steal all of his clothes could count as “bags” - locked the apartment and left, ready to leave the AC on snowman temperature for two days minimum and ignore all his complaints.

Bad luck seemed to follow you everywhere, though, because you were there for merely three days when the air conditioning started stuttering.

You were sprawled on the cold sheets of his bed, listening to the low hum of the AC as you scrolled through your phone, his white T-shirt sticking to your back, the cold air cooling the sheen of sweat that covered your body, leaving goosebumps all over. One of your fingers started lazily petting Patches’ stomach, and you could faintly hear Clay talking in the background, the sounds coming from his office.

“Thank you for the gifted subs! Um, yeah, it’s really hot here, I can barely, like, breathe in here. I have the AC on at highest, but all it’s doing is giving me a headache. Even-even my water bottle is completely hot.” You heard him rant and chuckled, turning on your side and continuing to scroll through random videos.

You sort of tuned out his talking, knowing he’d most likely be cooped up in that office for hours before your shared dinner, and started watching random YouTube videos, ignoring your surroundings as you shoved your earbuds in your ears. 

The longer the videos lasted, the more you felt like you were suffocating. The heat crawled up on you slowly, sneakily, almost unnoticeable yet undeniably there, hand made up of pure fire gripping at your throat tighter and tighter. It started off seamlessly, with you rolling around, trying to find a new cold spot on the sheets, to pulling at the shirt, trying to create cold air to soothe you, to wiping the sweat that basically covered your entire forehead, when your eyes finally peeled away from your phone and you realised you were basically choking in the heat, feeling like you’re breathing fire. 

You lift your head off the bed way too quickly, head pounding, and look at the one thing meant to save you from this madness - just to see it leaking water down the wall, barely coughing out any air. Your head miserably falls back down on the bed, hands rubbing at your face, dangerously close to both crying and screaming in distress. After a few moments of self-wallowing, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend’s office, being met with nothing but silence as you walked to it, happy he ended the stream so you could complain and wail to him, possibly cool down using the AC in his office. 

You slam the door open, seeing him hunched over in his gaming chair, Minecraft open as usual, and as soon as he takes one headphone off, turns around and sends a surprised but oddly panicked gaze your way, you start ranting.

“Babe, you won’t believe what just happened.” you said, rubbing a hand over your face again, eyes closing as you feel the coldness - in comparison to the living hell that was his bedroom right now - of the room wash over you. You don’t even let him speak before you continue.

“The fucking AC in your bedroom just broke. It’s leaking right now.”

Clay looks like he wants to say fifteen words at once, and the first one that comes out is: “What?”

“I swear. I was watching something on my phone, and I realised it’s crazy hot, so I looked up and realised it’s broken. Why does this happen to me!” you complained, and he tried pulling his headphones off for a second but instead pulled the cord out of the computer entirely, letting you hear everything that goes on in his headphones.

It’s silent for a second or two, before you hear a familiar voice.

“Dream.” you hear a British man with an awfully posh accent speak, and your eyes meet Clay’s in pure horror and realisation, when you slap a hand over your mouth. He looks as equally terrified as you, but also disappointed, because oh, that’s why he looked so panicked when you stormed in.

Then you hear another voice, equally British, but higher pitched. They laugh. “Is that Drista?”

Clay seems to snap back into reality, turning around towards the computer and adjusting his mic before speaking. “No- it’s- Tommy she said babe, why would Drista call me babe?”

“You’re so stupid, he was trying to help you.” You hear his long-time friend, Sapnap, deadpan, and you can practically feel all of them freaking out, while you stand in the doorway in horror, cheeks heating up despite the fully working AC.

Another laugh. “No, I wasn’t, I was genuinely asking. Why- Sapnap, why would I be helping Dream?” 

“Dream, you are so stupid.” you hear George laugh into his mic and your boyfriend immediately starts stuttering, trying to defend himself.

“How-how am I stupid?! She’s the one who walked in, what was I supposed to do?” you lean against the doorway as he defends himself, head buried in one of your hands.

“Mute!” you hear Sapnap borderline yell, almost mad. 

“Wait- I don’t get what’s going on- Does Big D have a girlfriend?” you hear the British boy, Tommy, ask, and all of them go silent for a few seconds before a loud, screeching laugh breaks out through the speakers, and when Clay turns around to look at you, all you can do is mouth an apology as you almost break out into laughter at how ridiculous the whole thing is.

“Oh my God, chat is going crazy right now.” George says while Tommy is laughing his lungs out in the background, still.

“Did you actually- did she actually- oh my GOD, Dream has a girlfriend! I can’t believe this!” Tommy keeps on laughing, coughing between sentences. “Dream stans, I am so sorry, this must be just a terrible, terrible day for you all.” 

“You’re probably already trending on Twitter, dude.” Sapnap adds, sounding more worried than your own boyfriend did at the moment.

“It was bound to happen at some point, I guess.” he huffs out, turning around to look at you every so often, gesturing for you to close the door and come in, which you did, guilt weighing you down as you moved.

“Are you serious? Can I- Can I speak to your girlfriend, Dream?” you can practically hear the grin in the boy’s voice and Clay doesn’t even turn to you before replying.

“No, you can’t.” 

“Oh, come on! You let me speak to your mum but not your girlfriend? Just for a little bit, please? I just- I just wanna see which lucky woman managed to get the attention of the Minecraft God, Dream himself. That’s it.” Tommy asks and you don’t even have it in you to laugh because of the anxiety that eats away at you, but then Clay sighs. 

“...Fine, I guess.” he looks up at you. “D’you wanna speak to Tommy?” 

You’re not quite sure what the expected answer is, but you shrug, gaze darting from his eyes to the computer, and then back to him. “Um… I don’t mind, I guess.” 

You hear him sigh and plug the headphones back into the computer, handing them to you. “Alright, she said yes. Here you go.” he stands up out of the chair and lets you sit, placing the way too big headphones on your head as your heart races, standing closely by your side as you roll the chair further towards the desk and microphone.

“Um… hello?” you shyly speak, and you hear something like groans of mixed annoyance, confusion and nervousness coming from George and Sapnap as Tommy starts laughing immediately, greeting you loudly. 

“HELLO, DREAM’S GIRLFRIEND!” you hear him yell in response as your shaky hands land on the keyboard, moving his character left and right. 

“Is the AC really broken?” Sapnap asks and you hear George laugh in response, considering how unimportant that information is right now. You know both of them, obviously - you’ve talked to them more than a few times, joining in on their jokes when Clay talks to them on speaker, growing as close as one can with their boyfriend’s friends.

“Yeah, it is. The AC in here is really good, though. Maybe I should stay and just take over the Dream channel.” You joke and they laugh.

“Yeah, I mean it would probably be better. A woman owning the Dream channel would make it so much better. The views would skyrocket.” Tommy says and you see his character walk up to you before he randomly laughs again.

“I can’t believe- I can’t believe Dream actually has a girlfriend. Is he, like, paying you to do this, or are you really…” he trails off and you giggle at his question, switching tools in the hotbar as you try to figure out how to play the game again.

“No, he’s not. We are dating, yes.” you confirm with a nod, and you feel Clay’s elbow sink into the chair, almost trying to listen.

“Say 1 if he’s keeping you hostage.” he says and you laugh again, shaking your head.

“No, he’s not- he’s not keeping me hostage.” you reply and you hear Clay go “WHAT?” right behind you.

“Well, of course, of course, I mean, who could ever pass up dating the great Dream. With all those subscribers, and Twitch primes, and Minecraft skills. Did- did his Minecraft skills get you?” Tommy asked, but before you could even respond, Sapnap jumped into the conversation.

“Oh yes, absolutely. She loves it. Yes, Dream, speedrun faster!” he sarcastically replies and for a few moments the whole call is blown into loud laughter, screeching and yells before it quiets down.

“Yes, what Sapnap said. I was so impressed, he just blew me away, with um… with his, um, Manhunt skills? I dunno, I don’t play Minecraft.” you hear him laugh at “Manhunt skills” behind you as the rest of the boys start laughing too.

“Dream’s girlfriend doesn’t play Minecraft?! What?! Dream- how could he allow this, seriously…” Tommy argued dramatically, his character staring at yours - or rather Clay’s.

“I can’t imagine if we were both Minecraft players, that would be a nightmare.” you replied.

“Why?” you heard George laugh through the headphones.

“Who do you think peels him away from the damn computer? If I was just like him we would never get out of the house, probably.” you argued.

“Dreamfriend, what is Dream like, you know, in real life?” Tommy spoke up and you heard George giggle again.

“Dreamfriend?” you repeated, a grin forming on your face at his stupidity, finally deciding to move the character around and switch back to the sword in the hotbar.

“Yes! Dream’s girlfriend, Dreamfriend, Dreamgirl, Girldream, whatever you like.” Tommy said and you laughed.

“Dream girl… if I wanted to get clout off Dream I’d use that, that’s genius.” 

“Thanks, I know I’m a genius, everyone tells me so.” Tommy claims and you shake your head, checking your boyfriend’s inventory to see if there’s anything interesting in there.

“Alright, I’m gonna check on the AC, I’ll be back in a second.” Clay says to you, before lowering himself to the mic so the boys could hear him. “Tommy, don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“Oh you know it, big man! I’d never!” Tommy yells back, despite Clay being unable to hear him, and he leaves the office with one last, quick kiss to your temple.

“Is he gone?” Tommy asks, and you nod and hum, despite him not being able to see you.

“Okay, so you don’t play Minecraft, right?” he asks.

“No, I don’t.” you reply.

“So there’s this really cool thing, right. If you just go in and type /op tommyinnit, there’s this thing that’s gonna-” Tommy doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s cut off by Sapnap, whose character suddenly appears in front of you.

“No, no, no, no, don’t trust him, you should-” Sapnap cuts in, but Tommy still loudly protests in the background.

“BE NICE TO OUR GUEST, SAPNAP! Let her do what she wants! She is Dream’s girlfriend after all, the most powerful woman.” Tommy claims and you laugh, sort of blushing from all the attention. You don’t even dare to check the chat or the donations that come in from Twitch, because it must be blowing up by now. As if he can hear your thoughts, George speaks too.

“Oh my God, Dream’s already trending on, like, five different spots on Twitter.” he says, and you instinctively grab your phone to check, before you can even think about it.

“What?” you and Sapnap both say in sync.

“Yeah, ‘Dream’ is trending #2 worldwide, and ‘Dream girlfriend’ is #4.” he lets out a shocked laugh.

“Oh my God…” you mutter out in both excitement, nervousness and dread as you open Twitter and confirm that George is indeed correct. You don’t even dare to press on either of the trends, simply turning off your phone with a sigh and moving back to stream.

“Wow, you’re famous now! How does it feel?” Tommy asks and you let out a quite dry laugh.

“Amazing. I can feel my value as a person increasing as we speak.” you respond sarcastically and hear George quietly laugh in the background.

Just then, you hear the door to the office opening again, but you ignore it because Tommy starts speaking.

“Okay, well, I’m sure that must be very fun and exciting for you, but I really will need you to type in /op tommyinn-” 

“No! I’m not listening to you, Tommy! I’m not about to type in some stupid command and get yelled at!” you cut in, but he keeps on whining.

“Come on, we know Big D would never yell at his… beloved girlfriend! Listen, just do it, I promise he will not be mad.” he argues.

“What does /op even mean?” you ask out loud, and suddenly Clay is yelling behind you. 

“Who is asking you to op them? Give me the headset!” he says, one hand already tugging at the headphones as you laugh while Tommy panics.

“Well, it was fun talking to you guys, but I have to go. Bye!” you bid them farewell and heard George and Sapnap say goodbye as well while Tommy yelled, and you took off the headphones and passed them to Clay who immediately put them on and adjusted them, plopping back into the chair. You left, moving to the living room to process everything that happened and abandon your phone for the next few hours because you were not ready for that type of attention in the slightest.

You laid in front of the TV, watching random shows on Netflix and grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen while you could still clearly hear him yelling and streaming, wondering how he’s still going as if nothing happened. The temptation to check what people were saying was overwhelming to the point your hands were itching to grab your phone and open all social media - before you even realised it, you were on the trending page again, thumb tapping on the “Dream girlfriend” tab. 

You braced yourself for the worst, but that’s not what came at you - sure, there were a couple of tweets telling people to lay off you, and delusional shippers getting ratioed, but they were mostly positive, lighthearted jokes, from single people making jokes about how a Minecraft YouTuber can get bitches but they can’t, to people calling you cute/funny. One hate comment obviously stings more than a million positive comments make you happy, but they were mostly misogynists calling you annoying for the roughly five sentences you spoke on stream or shippers disappointed that their favorite YouTuber isn’t gay, so you didn’t really let it get to you. 

When the house finally quieted down the sun was lowering itself into darkness and melting into a pot of blinding orange and golden honey, and you heard Clay’s footsteps when he finally turned off the stream, stepping into the living room a few seconds after you heard him. He sat down on the couch next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close to him, sitting there in silence with you.

“So… that was something.” he finally broke the silence and you nodded.

“It really was.” 

Another beat of silence passes.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I really need you to stop breaking all these ACs.”

“I’M NOT THE ONE BREAKING THEM-”

“Sorry, but I’m noticing a pattern here.” he wheezed, obviously just trying to get you riled up as you pulled away so his hand gets ripped off your shoulder.

“Shut up. You better have called someone to repair that damn thing, cause there is no way we’re sleeping in there without an AC.” you huffed, and he shuffled closer to you, arm wrapping itself around your shoulders once again.

“I did, they’re coming by tomorrow.” he assured.

“Tomorrow?” you asked, looking at him in disbelief. “How are we gonna sleep tonight?”

“Who says we have to sleep?” the glint in his eye and the stupid grin plastered on his face tells you everything you need to know, and you roll your eyes.

“If we fuck, I’ll actually die of overheating. Absolutely not.”

“Well in that case, I need to get that AC fixed as soon as possible.”

#dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream imagine #dream fluff #dreamwastaken imagine #dreamwastaken fluff #dream x y/n #dreamwastaken x y/n #dream x you #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt fluff

[girlhomosonly]

Smuca, oh Smuca [ Alberto x Luca ]

Inspired by @luca-x-alberto-prompts​

Also posted on Wattpad.

This is my first Luca related fanfiction! I fell in love with the movie, and I had to write more content of my sons and daughter hehe. Hope you like it!

Six months.

It's crazy to think half the year has already passed. Alberto never expected his past summer to turn out the way it did but he's pleased nonetheless.

Meeting Luca, and then Giulia, winning the Portorosso Cup...

Spending years admiring the town from afar, he was still adjusting to calling this place home. Sure, the town and its people adapted quickly from being sea monster hunters to lovers of sea monsters. But it was different from the time he spent on the island.

He now has friends that adore him and gained not only one family Massimo and Machiavelli, but also Luca's parents and grandmother. He also got along with the other kids in town, and he helps the elderly sea monster couple from time to time.

Again, it will take some time to fully adjust, but everything will be fine.

Perfectly fine.

Alberto will have to wait five more months tops for Luca to return. Only then will he be a hundred and ten percent fine.

      "You are drifting again, Piccolo (little one)." Massimo's gruff voice brought the young boy out of his thoughts. He looks up at the older man, who he now sees as a father figure. "Anything you want to discuss?"

Alberto hesitated, mouth hanging open but no words came out. It would be silly anyway, wouldn't it? He thought shyly, breaking his gaze from the man. Not that Luca is silly, no! Well, yes, but not silly to be thinking of him... Right? The young one is once again brought back from his thoughts with a grunt.

      "Nah," Alberto replied with a dismissive wave and he tried giving a reassuring smile to the fisherman. Who didn't seem convinced but didn't want to keep pressing on the topic for his son's sake.

      "Alright, give me a holler if you change your mind." Massimo reminded, and the boy nodded his head in acknowledgement. "Finish up your plate-" Alberto instantly grabbed the last handful of pasta and shoved it in his mouth, "wash up and try to get some sleep. Got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

      "Don't gotta tell me twice!"

He jumped out of his seat and raced towards the stairs. Heading to the washroom, he washed up and went straight to his room. Hearing the click of the door closing Alberto lets out a soft sigh.

He plopped himself at his desk, where several letters from both Luca and Giulia scattered the surface. There were pictures of the two of them, sometimes just Luca. Many drawings and trinkets were sent to him.

His favourite of them all being two photos of Luca. The first showing him intently writing a letter to Alberto, with his eyebrows furrowed and the tip of his tongue sticking out in concentration. The second was taken a few moments after the first, a frantic Luca covering his writing with his arms, big brown eyes staring at the camera. With flushed cheeks that would shame a tomato.

Alberto often reread his letters, searching and scanning which one he wrote that would have made him so shy about.

All of a sudden, his fond memories that spread warmth and a sense of belonging, now felt bitter.

<◉ )))><<       <◉ )))><<       <◉ )))><<

Once he was absolutely sure Massimo was asleep, Alberto quietly crawled out of bed and tip-toed to the window. Opening the window, he winced as it creaked.

His heart about dropped to his stomach when he heard the creaking of his own door opening. Jerking his head to peer over his shoulder, he slumped in relief.

      "Machiavelli!" He hissed at the feline, who sat at the doorway. Eyes peering into his soul, judging him. "Ai, I won't be gone long. Don't wake up papà!" He ushered out.

With that, the boy lept onto the tree branch that leads to the treehouse. He climbed down, careful not to let gravity take him. Looking up at the house, he held his breath and he only left when he heard Massimo's snoring.

He snuck through the back and ran to the town square.

There, awaited three statues humbly named after The Underdogs. Luca and himself were in their sea monster forms, standing proud with an even prouder Giulia standing between them.

He walked to the smaller sea monster statue. Smuca, he liked to call it. It was an inside joke between him and Luca after he first showed Alberto his makeshift lookout.

      "Ciao, Smuca." The words were barely audible.

This is stupid, Alberto huffed in annoyance but immediately shook his head. Silenzio, Bruno. Coming to talk to this version of Luca did help to a point but he wanted the real person. Alberto was craving the real thing.

      "Sometimes... When I feel selfish- Shellfish," Alberto chuckled to himself, a small yet sad smile reaching his lips. "I wish you stayed here. Wished you didn't have to be so far."

      "I miss you every day. Both of you guys... But especially you." His eyes began to sting with tears. "I get lonely."

Alberto lets out a shuddering breath in an attempt to calm down. He didn't mean to come here to cry. He just wanted to talk... Vent about how he's feeling? He should've just spoken with Massimo.

      "I'm really proud of you, Luca. I really am, and I can't wait to see you again." Alberto rests his head on Smuca's leg, tears freely rolling down his cheeks. "I just-" a loud sob escaped from his mouth.

He hunched over, bringing his knees to his chest and lets himself cry. Not caring if anyone can hear.

      "I want y-you to come home now. What if you d-don't come back?" He sniffles. "Ever?"

      "Please don't.. forget about me, Luca. I miss you." Luca looks up at the Smuca statue. "I love you..."

#one-shot #luca 2021 #disney pixar luca #luca paguro #alberto scorfano #giulia marcovaldo

[samstree]

Hug a Witcher Day (3/4)

In which Jaskier goes missing in the spring. Can Geralt finally realize his feelings for the bard in the middle of a crisis?

(hurt/comfort, soft geraskier, 3k, rated T, cw: mentions of a canon-era plague, sick children, and a citywide lockdown.)

part 1, part 2, read on AO3

The third year since Jaskier invented Hug a Witcher Day, Geralt all but forgets about it completely.

He steps into the Two Weatherfish, where they agreed to meet, and realizes that the bard isn’t here. Or in the entire city of Ard Carraigh. No one has seen any trace of the famous bard who won’t quit singing praises for witchers.

Geralt pushes down the slight panic in his chest as he steps out of the last tavern in the city, and decides to just head for Oxenfurt.

It’s not like Jaskier has been the most reliable companion in the past, often distracted by dalliances or even anything shiny and new. One time he wandered off to watch a local celebration and Geralt found him hours later next to a lake, with thousands of lanterns floating above the water, illuminating the night sky like burning stars peppered on a dark canvas.

The soft, orange light spilled over Jaskier’s features, his eyes gleaming like the stars too.

Geralt snorts despite himself. There’s no doubt the bard is just delayed by someone who caught his eye and decided that a promise to a witcher isn’t all that important—the same witcher who he keeps claiming to be his best friend.

Geralt isn’t sure how to feel about that, or how to react when he finally sees Jaskier. Perhaps he will cease to talk about hunts for a while, leave the bard hanging, just so he can get a taste of the same frustration.

The pettiness remains in Geralt’s mind up until he steps into the academy and rampant fear licks up his chest.

Essi is the one who meets him at the gates, worry deep between her brows and rambling about how Jaskier never made it to the yule ball like he should. In her hands are two letters, clearly Jaskier’s handiwork judging from the neat curves and flourish, talking about his excitement to see his ‘Little Eye’ perform again, and how unfortunately his travel would be delayed due to an unexpected ailment.

Don’t you fret, poppet, for I am sure to beat this sickness within days. The promise of listening to your new ballad is already doing wonders for my health! It is a shame that my stay in Vizima is soured thus. The city, so beautifully rich in culture…

“Vizima,” Essi says frantically. “A plague broke out in the city last winter. Smallpox.”

A buzz begins to ring by Geralt’s ear, muffling out Essi’s voice and leaving only the thundering of his own heartbeat.

“They told me King Foltest sealed the gate to stop the spread, and…and no one has heard from anyone inside since then. Geralt, please, you are a witcher. Aren’t you immune to human sickness? That’s what Jaskier told me, isn’t that right?”

“I…yes.” The lump in Geralt’s throat stops any other words from getting out. His blood runs cold in the warm breeze of Oxenfurt’s spring.

“Please, Geralt, you must find him. I need to know. The university won’t allow me to go, but I…I must know. No matter what happened to him.”

The implication hangs in the air.

Tears well up in blues eyes too similar to Jaskier’s. Essi would be my sister in another life, Jaskier once commented adoringly and it’s only standing right here that Geralt can truly see the identical fierceness in her eyes.

As if Geralt needs her to ask. As if he isn’t willing to charge into the land of the dead if it means Jaskier gets out of it unscathed.

“Of course, Essi,” he promises solemnly. Her clutch on his forearm is so tight that any other man would be bruised by the force. “I promise.”

“Keep him safe, if it’s not too late.”

In his near-century long life, Geralt has rarely felt cold, unrelenting fear as he does when Essi breaks into sobs.

 *

The sickness in Vizima casts a gloomy cloud over the sky, choking Geralt’s breaths. The streets are eerily empty. Only a few people will pass through in a frenzy every now and then.

Geralt’s legs take him right through the main streets, to the far corner of the city, where countless makeshift tents are set up and stretching towards the edge of the woods. If anyone has indeed fallen to the disease, that’s the most likely place they will be sent to. If anyone passes, that’s also where they keep the records so friends and families can look for their names.

Bile rises in his throat at the idea of looking through stacks of books for Jaskier’s name.

Geralt walks between hundreds of beds of one tent after another. Some healers throw him an odd look but carry on with their work, the flash of their white scrubs weaving through the busy establishment.

Against all odds, a pang of relief hits Geralt when he notices how the patients are well-treated by healers who seem to know what they are doing. The fever is brought down with a soaked cloth and a minty salve is applied for the irritation on the skin.

He searches and searches, until the sun is almost down, when—

A soft tune is carried over by the gentle breeze of spring.

And there Jaskier is, kneeling next to a little boy on a bed and humming a lullaby that Geralt only remembers vaguely. The bard is wearing the same white scrub like every carer at this camp, his brown hair slightly ruffled, and dark circles are hanging under his eyes. Geralt can see how tired he is by the hunch of his shoulders and the barely-there quiver in his singing, by his unkept stubble and the smile that’s dangerously close to falling.

And yet, he makes the most beautiful sight in the world.

Geralt stands there, drinking in the presence of his bard. The languid heartbeat of a witcher picks up, fluttering and almost bursting out of his chest.

Jaskier runs his fingers through the boy’s hair when the lullaby comes to an end. He tucks in the blanket and slowly pulls himself up, his knees creaking from the strain.

Blue eyes meet Geralt and Jaskier’s shock morphs into unbridled, blazing joy. Within the blink of an eye, the bard is standing right in front of Geralt.

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathes oh so carefully like he’s scared of waking from a dream. “What are you doing here? Wait, you don’t have any protec—oh right! Witcher biology. Can’t catch anything from us.” The bard lets out a sigh and his shoulders drop in relief. “How did you get through the gate? Punched another guard, didn’t—”

“You are okay,” Geralt says, dumbly.

“I am. Why wouldn’t I be?” Jaskier frowns. “Geralt, why did you come to Vizima in the middle of a plague? Not that I’m complaining about seeing you, but how exactly did you find me?”

Geralt doesn’t want to look away from Jaskier’s face—ideally for a long time to come, but he needs to rummage through his pack for the crumpled letters.

“You sent these to Essi last winter.”

Jaskier takes the letters, flattens the frayed edges before reading his own words.

“Yes, I did tell her…” Cold horror takes Jaskier aback. “Shit. She must think—Oh, Geralt, that wasn’t it! I only caught a stomach bug. It was never the pox! But then…they locked the city gate so fast and everything was in chaos for weeks. I couldn’t get more letters out. Oh, I wish I could take it back! I didn’t think—”

“You damn well didn’t.”

The words come out a lot harsher than Geralt intended, and Jaskier flinches back. Geralt pinches at the bridge of his nose, feeling contrite at his untimely outburst.

“No, Jask—I’m not…” he heaves out a sigh. “She didn’t even know if you were alive for months.”

Neither did I.

“I’m so sorry.” Jaskier is close to tears. “She must be worried sick.”

“She is.”

I was.

“And you too, Geralt. Please forgive me.” Jaskier’s chin wobbles, his arms hovering between the two of them as if he wants to put them around Geralt. “I want to ask you not to be cross with me again, but that seems to be all I do.”

“Jaskier…”

Geralt calls out when he finds not even an ounce of anger in his heart, not when he just spent weeks fearing the worst, not when Jaskier is standing right in front of him, safe and hale, his eyes flowing with guilt.

Jaskier might just be the death of him.

“Fuck. Just don’t pull this again.” Geralt softens his tone, knowing how unfair the request is when such things are out of Jaskier’s control, but the bard replies in earnest.

“I won’t. I swear.”

Exhaustion washes over the bard once again, making him look a lot older than he is. From the looks of it, Jaskier has been working in these camps for months and the last thing he needs is an unsupportive friend.

And Geralt doesn’t intend to become one.

“And you are dressed like this because?” Geralt nudges Jaskier in the shoulder to ease the apprehension on his face.

“Funny you should ask.” The bard presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. “I may have lied—nay, implied—that the seven degrees I acquired at Oxenfurt included…medicine. Hold on! Before you judge, I do know how to care for pox patients. I caught it as a child too and that’s why I’ve been fine this whole time.”

“Hmm. But you don’t have the—”

“The scars. No thanks to my grandmother’s secret healing salve that she insisted on keeping secret. It worked like a charm back then, almost like magic. We’ve been trying to replicate from whatever I remember. The mint is helping a little but something is still missing. Oh, well.” The bard rubs his fingers at the hem of his scrub. “Perhaps that explains all these crazy rumors about her heritage, with all her herbs and teas that always miraculously cured everybody. Honestly, I don’t even blame them.”

Geralt muses the possibility of Jaskier’s grandmother not being completely human and makes a silent decision to unpack it later.

“Then I guess your personal experience should come in handy if we are going to stay here for a while.”

“We? You are staying?”

“The exits are still closed.” Geralt tilts his head in nonchalance. “Might as well lend them a hand.”

And never take his eyes off of Jaskier again.

“That’s…wonderful, in a terrible, terrible way. Being trapped in the same place during a plague. Gods, that sounds like something out of the cheesiest romance novel.” Jaskier gasps as soon as the words are out. The smile on his face blossoms into a heated blush.

“Just promise me one thing, Jask.”

“What?” The cornflower blue eyes uncharacteristically avoid Geralt in a vain attempt to hide how flustered he is.

Don’t scare me like this again.

Don’t get taken from me.

Don’t leave me.

“Read less romance novels. Once this blows over,” Geralt answers, finally.

The fluttering in his chest returns, although this time for a completely different reason. The reason not being how adorable Jaskier looks embarrassed and rosy-cheeked.

No. Definitely not.

 *

“Little Simon asleep?”

Geralt asks as he stokes the fire, watching Jaskier struggle out of the sweat-soaked scrub and throw it into the laundry pile. The bard sits down next to him on the log with a groan and leans into his arm.

“As flattered as I am that he can’t fall asleep without my songs, it does get a bit taxing to sing every night while kneeling on the floor.”

“The kid is sick. Can’t blame him for having bad taste in music.”

The jab would have landed better if he isn’t wrapping his arm around Jaskier so that he can rest his head on Geralt’s shoulder. The days are too long even with most of the patients released home, and it’s been taking a toll on Jaskier.

“Cruel to me when I’m down, huh?”

Under Geralt’s palm, it’s unmistakable that Jaskier’s arm isn’t as thick as it once was, and he really doesn’t want to think about how the sharp of Jaskier’s jaw is becoming more prominent by the day.

Geralt rubs gently up and down Jaskier’s bicep to draw a contented purr out of him.

“Hmm. Now you’re forgiven.” Jaskier nuzzles into the crook of Geralt’s neck so his muscles loosen under the ministration. “It’s so unfair that a shift never wears you out like the rest of us, my dear. So unfair that you don’t need as much food too. I’d kill for some witcher superpowers these days.”

“Trust me, you won’t like what they cost.”

The late summer heat, mixed with the smell of sweat in Jaskier’s hair, should make it extremely uncomfortable to be sitting so close, but Geralt only finds it calming to have Jaskier sagging against him.

Jaskier’s thinning shoulder is too worrisome. Geralt will have to leave him most of the dinner rations again. Excuses are so easy to find, once Geralt realized that Jaskier never questions what he’s told about witcher biology, trusting every word from Geralt’s mouth. It’s just a little lie, a little exaggeration.

The bard is rubbing off on him.

“Simon is among the last ones here,” Jaskier says tiredly into Geralt’s neck. “It will soon be over. They are saying everyone can go in a month or so.”

“We can go even now.”

The prospect of traveling again stirs up something hopeful under Geralt’s skin, prickling with excitement, but he knows more patience is required for now.

“Nah, I should at least see little Simon home. You were right that the boy has suffered enough. The fever is terrible. Even I still have nightmares about it after so many years. It’s excruciating, almost like death is trying to mock you. One moment a fire burns through your whole body, the next it swallows you whole into this…nothingness, cold and alone.”

Geralt tightens his hold and breathes in the melancholic scent emanating from Jaskier’s skin.

“It was my grandmother, again. She sang the same lullaby to me every night, kept me sane. It’s helping little Simon too.”

“It’s in elvish,” Geralt murmurs absently when Jaskier is close to drifting off. The bard’s leveled breathing fans over the collar of Geralt’s neck.

“…hmm?”

“Nothing. Maybe for later.”

Geralt’s fingers reach the side of Jaskier’s head and thread between the soft brown locks, keeping his drooping head in place for the nap. When he looks down to where Jaskier casually drapes over half of his body, the two of them almost melding into one, Geralt is suddenly hit with how much their relationship has changed over the past few years, and at the same time, how it feels completely natural like puzzles fitting into place.

This newfound intimacy should scare Geralt, but strangely, it doesn’t. Maybe it’s because the witcher has learned long ago to treasure his bard as a companion and friend, to protect him and care for him, even without ever admitting it out loud.

Maybe he should.

And what would he even say? Geralt is equally elated and stumped at the thought of the two of them growing into something more. If the fluttering in his chest is a result of loving Jaskier, the bard deserves to know, and he deserves the best words.

Geralt scoffs softly when he realizes that he’d kill for something completely opposite. Not the strength of a witcher, but the silver tongue of a bard, the ability to weave the most beautiful prose to describe what Jaskier means to him.

The summer cicadas are singing with renewed vigor, the sizzling sound disrupting his train of thought. For now, Geralt will need to content himself in simply being with Jaskier.

And, perhaps, in pressing a tiny kiss into his soft brown hair as well. Under the night sky, only the stars will know.

--

I didn't know plague doctor Jaskier could be a thing until I started writing this chapter, and the ending just had to make way for it. Sorry that the chapter count has gone up. I promise hugs are cuddles are on the way!  <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @birdsflyhome @dapandapod @artisanbaguette

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #hug a witcher day #soft jaskier #cw: plague #guess this should be a warning #protective geralt #essi daven #jaskier sings to children

[soulmate-game]

Can you do a prompt of Marinette being the daughter of the Joker and Harley but Harley left him before Marinette was born and when Joker found out about his daughter He decided to kidnap Marinette so she can become like him (Ace chemicals) (Daminette)

Woot, my first ask in a while! Let’s see how I can do this oddly specific ask that reminds me of a fic that might actually exist but tbh I���ve read so many fanfics idk if my brain is remembering right

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette knew Sabine and Tom weren’t her biological parents. She had known ever since she was eight, when her mother by blood visited her for the first time, sat her down, and explained everything. Including, but not limited to, her disastrously toxic past relationship, her new girlfriend, and her recent success with long term rehab (unofficial rehab that mostly consisted of illegal anti-hero actions, but hey if it worked it worked).

Marinette understood. Well no, she really didn’t since she was only eight, but she understood that her mom— that Harley— was genuine. She had always had a knack for emotions and telling when people were sincere or not. And Harley really was regretful about not being in her life beforehand, and was serious about wanting to be part of her life now that her own was mostly sorted out.

So Marinette was not surprised when Harley really did stick it out. When Harley cooed over Marinette copying her hairstyle to show her support of her biological mom, when Harley never failed to call at least once a week even if she was in jail for punching some asshole or another. Harley never stayed arrested long anymore, she was usually found to be on the right side of the moral scale more and more often so the police didn’t bother keeping her locked up anymore. Through the years, Marinette always looked forward to her mom’s calls. Looked forward to being lulled to sleep by one crazy story or another from her mother’s past. Everything was nice. Perfect, even, for a while.

A thump sounded from her balcony, one late night when Marinette was thirteen. Blinking, the dark haired girl furrowed her brows. Who would be on her balcony? Cautiously walking towards the trap door leading to it, grasping her metal pencil holder as a weapon (she remembered all of her Mom’s stories about break-ins and random attacks back in Gotham), the teen strained her ears. Akuma attacks were only a few months old now, but she had already become in high alert for any sign of Hawkmoth or his victims. As per usual, Marinette’s paranoia began to kick in. Did Hawkmoth already figure her out? Was he here for her earrings? Would she be able to fight him?

She gently pushed up the trap door, catching a glimpse of black leather. Huh? Marinette narrowed her eyes, confused. Was it Chat? He should have been on patrol, on the other side of the city. What was he doing visiting her?

Suddenly the trap door yanked the rest of the way open, making Marinette yelp as the handle for it rugged away from her fingers. And there, backlit by the pure blue-white moonlight, was Not Chat Noir. It was Catwoman, in all her skintight black leather glory, grinning at her before pushing her cat-eye goggles up to the top of her head and crouching down by the trap door’s entrance, balancing only on the pads of her feet.

“Well hello there~” the woman purred. “So you’re the cute little kitten Harley is so secretive about. Nice to finally meet you,” the woman held out a hand, sending Marinette a sweet, if mysterious, smile. For a while, the pigtailed girl only stared before a squeal of excitement left her throat, leaving very little room for any doubt as to her bloodline. A large smile curled over Marinette’s lips, leaving her beaming widely at the catlike woman on her balcony.

“Auntie Selina! Mom’s told me so much about you! Come in, come in, come in! I’ll sneak some macaroons up for you. Or do you prefer croissants? What’s your favorite flavor? Are you really dating Batman? Oh my goodness, that necklace is so lovely! Did you steal it?”

Selina could only chuckle fondly at the word vomit, letting the smaller girl drag her down the trap door and into her very… pink room. Looking around, Selina was once again slapped with just how similar this kid was to her outgoing friend. Marinette clearly had no shame in indulging in the things she liked, such as the color pink and anything regarding fashion. But there were other things amongst the girliness of the room, like the posters of Jagged Stone and the training dummy half-sticking out of her closet door. There were a few ornamental knives hung up behind her computer, seemingly just for decoration although Selina could see that they were definitely battle ready and sharpened. A small mallet, clearly a miniature replica of her mother’s own signature weapon, leaned up against the side of the girl’s laundry basket. But then there was Marinette’s mannequin, which was surrounded by meticulously cut pieces of cloth and had other pieces pinned to it strategically. Marinette clearly had the same professionalism and love for her chosen career that had so completely defined Harley in the Time Before Joker. The same genius intellect hiding in those deceptively cheerful bluebell eyes. And for the first time, though not for the last to be sure, Selina found herself thoroughly relieved that it seemed Marinette had inherited very little from her father.

Except, as she would learn from stories Harley told her later, an apparent affinity for chaos.

“I’m not that picky, kitten. But I’m not that hungry, so don’t go too out of your way,” Selina decided to just react the same way she did with Harley’s rambles, and answer one question at a time. “Also, I am actually dating Bruce Wayne. But, if you promise not to tell anyone—“ she waited for Marinette’s eager nod before continuing casually, “— the two are maybe not as mutually exclusive as many think,” Selina finished with a conspiratorial wink. “No, I actually did not steal this necklace. Bruce has been adamant in trying to curb me of my thieving habit by buying me almost everything I so much as glance at sideways. It’s sweet. Naive, because I like stealing for the fun of it, but sweet.”

Marinette giggled, bouncing in place happily. She loved a bit of innocent gossip like this. “Is Momma Ivy ever gonna visit? I don’t think Mom told her much about me yet, and I still gotta give her the shovel talk!” the fierce look that overcame Marinette’s face made Selina laugh again. Oh yes, definitely her mother’s daughter.

“Pam has been trying to sneak over, but the laws regarding Metahumans in Paris suddenly got much stricter a few months back and have caused some problems. You wouldn’t happen to know what happened, would you?” Selina did not miss when her seemingly innocent question caused her niece to close off almost instantly. Bluebell eyes took on a familiar guardedness, and scanned her with the same soul-searching intensity that Harley had when she was channeling her Psychiatrist side. Selina found herself in a slightly concerning spot though—

Because she couldn’t predict Marinette at all. She was left to simply stand there as Marinette searched for some unidentifiable thing in her eyes, completely unable to read the younger girl’s face and with no idea of what to expect. The side effect of having chaos so thoroughly entwined in both of her biological parents, she supposed.

“Nope, no idea.”

Selina knew that was a lie, but knew equally as well that she would not be getting a better answer anytime soon. So, she let it go and the two of them once again dipped into innocent chatter.

Later that night, when Selina left and the sun threatened to rise at any minute, Tikki flew up from her hiding spot under Marinette’s pillow to land on her holder’s shoulder. Marinette giggled and looked over at her little friend.

“Tikki?”

“Yes, Mari?”

“Why was I chosen to be your holder?” She asked suddenly, flopping back into her bed and staring at her ceiling. The little goddess hummed, smiling knowingly before flying down to cuddle in the crook of Marinette’s neck.

“Because you are born from luck itself. Even when bad things happen, you have the luck and determination to get out just fine, and stronger than before. And despite the destruction and anarchy in your blood, you have the willpower to reign it in and keep control of yourself. That’s all order really is, Marinette. The decision to take all the chaos and madness around us, and make it make sense. Make it do something good. And that’s a large part of who you are, I could feel it in your soul the moment we first met.”

Marinette closed her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. “What if I lose control?”

“... You’ll just have to get it back. It’ll be hard, but as long as you have people to support you, you will be able to do it. You aren’t evil, Marinette,” the small God seemed to sense the true question her holder was asking, and did her best to soothe the doubt the girl felt. “Just remember the reasons you fight against chaos. Remember everyone you love, and you’ll be okay. And you have me, I’ll always help you.”

“... thank you, Tikki.”

—*—*—*—*—*

“He’s going to find out, Mom.”

“No he won’t, don’t be silly! I’ve been very careful about hiding you from him, Nettie-pie.”

“Mom… I just have a bad feeling. I don’t think we can hide who I am from him. If he sees me, I think he’ll know.”

The phone went silent.

“If he hurts you, I’ll kill him. If I was crazy about him, Sugar, then I’m head over heels for you. Not even he can stop me from caving his skull in if he tries his usual tricks with you.”

“... My plane leaves soon, I’ll talk to you when I land. And mom?”

“Yeah, honeycake?”

“I love you.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was uncanny just how often Marinette’s hunches were right. Her intuition was something to behold, truly, because it only took three days in Gotham before Joker snatched her right out of her room at Harley and Ivy’s apartment. At least Marinette had sixteen by then, so she had had enough experience as a hero in Paris and with generally unpredictable situations and people who were absolutely nuts for her to not immediately panic. Too much, anyway.

Because there was definitely a little panic there.

See, Marinette knew herself inside out by then. After her own battle with her toxic feelings towards Adrien and doing her best to heal from those before she turned out like her mom, she knew she was by no means mentally indestructible. Mental illness ran the high risk of being inherited, and Marinette was well aware that her own personality was scarily similar to her mother’s at times. She got attached quickly, felt affection and love for others very strongly and, as she found with Adrien, could easily become obsessive if she didn’t watch herself. At least Harley was the perfect person to help with that, and Marinette was serious about helping herself too. She did everything she could to keep an eye on her mental health and keep her behavior in check so she didn’t do anything too unhealthy with her relationships again.

But she knew, she knew she had a soft spot for family. She got attached too easily. And being in the same room as her biological father, despite being tied up by her hands and feet and knowing just how many unforgivable things he had done in his life, Marinette felt vulnerable. She didn’t want to hurt him, despite everything. She still loved him, despite every reason not to, despite her first meeting with him being with him shoving chloroform over her face and hogtying her to a metal chain dangling over a vat of acid.

Geez, she’d need more than just her mom as a therapist after this for sure. Even if her mom had a PH.D, Marinette felt like she’d need several psychiatrists to sort through her emotional turmoil right then and make sense of any of it.

Marinette licked her lips, aware that the only kindness that Joker gave his daughter was sparing her from the discomfort of being gagged.

“Don’t,” Marinette said, surprising herself with the amount of steel she was able to put into her voice. Somehow, she managed to make the single word sound more like an order than a plead. “Joker, put me—“

“Ah-Ah-Ah!” The clown walked over, tutting and waving his finger in the air in almost playful admonishment. He gave her a dramatically fake pout. “Don’t you know it’s disrespectful to refer to your father by his first name?” Neither of them mentioned that Joker was definitely not his real name. They both knew the point was moot. “Say it with me now— ‘Daddy dearest, I am more than willing to be dunked in acid for you,’ go ahead, say it.”

Marinette’s jaw clenched. Familial love or not, she would not tolerate being ridiculed like that. She dealt with enough ridicule when she was fourteen and fifteen during school, before she put Liar Rossi in her place. She had spent the past three years as a hero in charge of the war against Hawkmoth, in charge of protecting all of Paris from an emotional terrorist.

And gee, wasn’t that what Joker was, too? Sure, he was a terrorist in the classic meaning of the word as well, but he was nothing if not a skilled manipulator. He knew the human mind just as well as Harley or any other psychiatrist did, he just used his knowledge for different means. He had emotionally abused Harley for years, he emotionally abused and manipulated people all across gotham on a daily basis. He was just another Hawkmoth, but with more physical violence in place of magic.

With these thoughts strengthening her resolve, Marinette narrowed her eyes at the man who donated half of her DNA. She let her anger boil into her irises, hitting him with one of the few traits she knew she inherited from him.

Her ability to intimidate others on the tip of a hat.

“No,” she growled back at him. She took a deep breath. It had taken her a while, but she refused to be ashamed of who she was regardless of her blood relation. She would have no problem using the very things she inherited from Joker against him. She might have gotten most of Harley’s personality, she might have inherited her mother’s habit of falling in love hard, fast, and obsessively, but she also had Joker’s defiance. His bone-deep inability to be stopped from doing exactly whatever the fuck he wanted.

And then, there were Marinette’s own traits. The ones that were completely her own, developed over her life organically. Like her refusal to bow down to bullies, her creativity, her ability to take even the most chaotic situation and see some sort of balance and sanity in it that she could use to her advantage.

That she WOULD use to her advantage. The shadows she saw move out of the corner of her eye gave her the chance to do exactly that, she just needed to buy a few more seconds. Just a few more seconds.

“Excuse me?” Joker growled right back, his own intimidation, honed over more years than Marinette had been alive and thus much more potent than her own, reading its ugly head as he stalked towards her. His face was pulled down into an ugly snarl, his shoulders tensed and back straight as he glared right at her. From his spot on the metal walkway, he was easily able to reach over the railing and grab her chin in one pale, viciously strong hand. “I think you’re misunderstanding something here, little Marionette. I’m your father. Half of your life came directly from ME. That makes you my puppet. You exist to follow my orders,” his right grip suddenly let go, leaving behind the beginnings of a bruise as his entire demeanor changed from angry to cheerful. He spread his arms as if gesturing to the whole chemical plant victoriously, and an unnaturally large smile curved over his lips and bared yellowing teeth at her. “But that’s okay. I’ll forgive you this time, you haven’t learned any better yet. That’s why we’re here. We need to cleanse you of all those icky bad habits you’ve learned up until now, all you need is a little,” he bounced in place with a wicked smirk to illustrate his next words— “jumpstart. A little acid goes a long way to enlightenment you know, you’ll see my side of things in no time. And with my blood in you, you’ll make a better sidekick than that idiot Harley ever did. I can sense it, you’ve got a real talent for Chaos in you, it’s exciting, Heheeeheheee! Now then, we should probably speed things along before our family reunion is cut short. Hang in there, my little Marionette,” the man actually had the gall to spin in place while humming a tune cheerfully before all but dancing over to the lever that held Marinette’s length of chain in the air over the vat of chemicals below her. “Everything will clear up in that little head of yours in just a second!”

There! Right as Joker pulled the switch to lower her into the bubbling vat underneath her, Marinette was able to finish untying her hands. She couldn’t contain a small yelp as gravity flung her body forward, leaving her upside down on the chain for a brief moment. That was when the chain started lowering rapidly, and Marinette was barely able to rip the rope off of her ankles in time to swing off of it and onto the metal walkway that came up right next to the giant metal container of liquid death and insanity. Joker had barely enough time to shout in rage before the windows near the ceiling shattered, admitting the city’s vigilantes themselves. Batman, Nightwing, Red Robin, Red Hood, Robin, and evening Black Bat all landed on the same metal platform above Marinette’s head that Joker was still on, buying the teen time to start running. But she didn’t go towards the exit right away, instead heading right up the stairs into the thick of the fight. Robin briefly separated from where Joker was managing to hold his own, goons flooding from side doors to inhibit the heroes in their attempt to bring their boss down.

The katana-using vigilante kept one eye on Marinette the whole time, suspicious of why the girl would come back up if not to help her father. But that wasn’t what she did, instead she flipped and kicked and punched her way through the quickly growing sea of Joker thugs until she reached a small pink purse that had been abandoned near the lever that had nearly sent her into liquid insanity. Three thugs surrounded her right as she snatched the purse up and slung it over her shoulder, but Robin barely had the chance to head over before she was heaving the men, who were all easily three times her size, over her shoulder and was slamming elbows into soft spots and the side of her hand into pressure points. By the time Robin got to her side, all three men were unconscious and bound to wake up in utter agony.

Marinette glanced up, getting ready to haul Robin over her shoulder as well before she realized who he was. She let her shoulders relax just a tick, sighing in relief before returning her eyes to scanning their surroundings. She shot him a brief grin.

“Good thing my adoptive mother, Mom, Momma Ivy, and Auntie Selina all made sure I knew how to take down a small army on my own, huh?” She asked rhetorically before they were both unceremoniously dragged back into the giant brawl.

—*—*—*—*—*

“Nettie-pie!”

“Marigold!”

Harley and Pamela Quinzel-Isley shoved down anyone and everyone who dared block their direct path to their daughter. The girl of the hour stood next to the bat clan, a shock blanket held tightly around her shoulders as she did her best to finish her statement to both the vigilantes and Commissioner Gordon.

“You untied yourself… from a ship-grade knot in high quality rope… with a phone charm?” They heard Gordon ask incredulously, to which Marinette could only give a lopsided smile. That was when her mom and stepmom crashed into her, enveloping her in a nearly suffocating hug.

“Gah— mom— momma Ivy—“ Marinette flailed in their arms for a bit before finally getting her head free and continuing her statement as if she didn’t have two of the most dangerous women in the city still giving her a bone crushing hug. “That’s better. Yes, Commissioner. You see, I realized when I was in the car with Joker, while I was pretending to still be unconscious, that one of the charms on my phone had pretty sharp corners that I could use like a serrated edge if I had enough time. So I carefully detached it from my phone, and held it in my palm. It took almost an hour, but once Joker noticed I was awake I kept him talking so that he didn’t notice what I was doing even as he tied me up to that chain. Really, it’s just lucky that I was able to get it worn down in time,” Marinette rubbed the back of her neck with a nervous chuckle. “But regardless, I think Batman and his partners,” she nodded to the listening vigilantes just to the side of her. “Were close enough that I would have been caught anyway, I just wanted to make sure they had less work to do. The sooner I freed myself, the sooner ‘Daddy Dearest,’” she grimaced as she mockingly used the same term Joker had tried to get her to say earlier that night. “Could go back behind bars where he belongs.”

“Oh my little Nettie-cake,” Harley cried, finally pulling back from the hug long enough to wipe her cheeks. It was clear that she had been crying for a while, and her colorful pigtails were mussed and tangled from where she must have been tugging on them in worry. “You were right. I’m so sorry, I never should have let you come to Gotham when I knew he was out of Arkham.”

Marinette was quick to shake her head frantically, pulling her arms out of Ivy’s hold so she could grasp Harley’s shoulders firmly. “No. No, Mom, I’m fine! And besides, we knew I couldn’t stay secret forever. I really like staying with you and Momma Ivy! Everything turned out fine though, and he’s headed back to Arkham. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Nettle,” Pam argued, distracting herself by running her hands through Marinette’s bangs. She had only known the girl for two years, but that was more than long enough for her to consider the teenager as her own. “He took you right out from under our noses. You were supposed to be safe in our home, and he still got to you. That’s not okay. We weren’t able to protect you like we should have been. Maybe you should go back to Paris early.”

“What?! No way!” Marinette argued, eyes wide. “This is the first time I’ve been able to ever visit you guys in Gotham, I’m not letting some psycho sperm donor keep me from enjoying time with my family! I came here knowing full well that it was dangerous. I’m not gonna just run away after one bad experience.”

Harley snorted, and then devolved into uncontrollable giggles. “Heh— psycho sperm donor. Good one, sugar!”

Marinette smiled and rolled her eyes good naturedly at her mom’s usual immature antics. Seeing as Gordon had walked away muttering to himself a short while ago, Marinette pulled herself the rest of the way away from her moms and turned to the vigilantes. Without a second’s pause, she bowed to them just like her Maman Sabine taught her.

“Thank you for helping save me. I know it’s probably a shock that I’ve been kept secret from you guys all this time, but I hope you don’t lump me in with the likes of the green-haired half of my DNA. I’m staying with my Moms in their apartment, if you guys decide to patrol by our place like I suspect, I’ll leave some baked goods and coffee out for you on our patio. It’s the least I can do for you all after tonight. And don’t be too hard on Auntie Selina. Me and Mom swore her to secrecy, even from you guys.”

Batman jerked a little at the mention of Catwoman’s real name, jaw twitching for a second. Behind his cowl, his eyes narrowed. Marinette laughed, easily reading his body language and expression.

“She never told me who you are, but she didn’t exactly hide it either. It was easy to put the last pieces together on my own. But don’t worry, SHE swore me to secrecy too. I won’t tell anyone.

“How the hell are you related to the Laughing Asswipe from Hell?” Red Hood blurted out, his confusion clear even from behind his hideous helmet. Marinette burst into giggles, and both Pamela and Harley smiled knowingly.

“Mom gave me up for adoption when I was born, so I spent my whole life in Paris up until now,” she admitted. “Mom didn’t visit me for the first time until I was eight, and she and my adoptive parents are so awesome that it must’ve suffocated the worst traits from his DNA before they had a chance to develop,” she guessed out loud with a good natured smile.

Batman grunted. Marinette knew that one run-in wasn’t enough for them to trust her. After all, she was still the biological daughter of their arch enemy. But she didn’t mind, she understood the caution even if she didn’t fully agree with it. They weren’t outright hostile, despite the fact that Robin had never stopped glaring at her since they fought back-to-back against the mob of thugs earlier. She could live with their suspicion, as long as they continued to not be outright rude or mean to her.

At least she could empathize with Adrien now, whenever she figured out how to break it to him that Hawkmoth was definitely Gabriel and couldn’t be anyone else. Hopefully she could help soften the blow for him a little.

Harley and Ivy were starting to herd Marinette towards their car and take her back home, where they could continue to smother her in care and make sure she didn’t have even a scratch on her, when Robin’s voice stopped them all in their tracks.

“You are a surprisingly capable combatant.”

Marinette froze, blinking in surprise for a second before turning to stare at Robin in shock. The rest of the Bat Clam was doing the same, nobody expecting Robin of all people to be the first to directly complement Marinette. He tutted, crossing his arms, but never moved his gaze away from Marinette’s eyes.

“But your form could use some work. Most of your style is incredibly improvised, which I can appreciate since you do it well, but you would benefit from more structure in your fighting. I will set up a time and place for us to spar. We start in two days, if you think you can handle it.”

It took a while for what Robin said to sink in, and another few seconds for Marinette to decipher what his semi-aggressive, order-phrased proposal really meant. And she smiled.

“It’s a date.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Woo! This started off a little rough, but I really like how it ended up! Thank you, Anon!

#ml x dc #maribat #mlb x dc #eventual daminette #pre daminette #daminette #Bio!dad joker #bio!mom Harley Quinn #Joker Sucks #Request #Oneshot #Fanfiction #crossover

[kentokunn]

false accusations; (erwin smith x reader)

chapter one; gambler (3k words)

SUMMARY: Erwin Smith has always been a gambler. His decisions have always had promising outcomes. However, when one of his gambles ends with you in the custody of the Military Police accused of perjury, he is forced to come up with a scheme that will have only one solid outcome, the one which he needs to happen for thee wiring your safety.

His plan- to any other bystander -looks to be another one of his unpredictable gambles, but his long time friend Nile Dok knows Erwin's smile all too well to know that he had predicted every single consequence and what the outcome would be to the bitter end. The military Commander had proved to be far too clever for his own good on multiple fronts.

[canon divergence; season 2]

AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is my first time writing for Erwin that isn’t a headcanon. It’s also my first time writing a chapter story in months. I’ve had crazy writers fatigue so I had to take some breaks, but the idea for this story made me excited to write again! This chapter may seem like it drags on and is kind of dialogue heavy (at least I think it is), but it’s mainly just an introduction chapter to prepare for the actual story. So far, what I have planned out is 10 chapters and a prologue but it might change in the future. I hope you all enjoy, and feel free to leave feedback or constructive criticism!

It was the afternoon before the Scout Regiment was to make their way to the capital within Wall Sina. The Commander stood at the head of the oak wood table in front of a map of Stohess that covered the length of the table. The map was covered in short nails and strings with red, green, and black dots, made with ink, marked along certain points. Erwin was hunched forward a little, pointing to one exact spot on the map and revising over the plan that he and the young recruit, Armin Arlelt, had come up with to capture the Female Titan.

Tapping his finger on the map, Erwin looked up at the four sitting along the sides of the table. "Here. This is where Armin, Eren, and Mikasa will be leading Annie Leonhart for the capture squad to trap her." After a brief moment of silence, an invite for somebody to speak up, he continued. "While I am likely being detained by the Military Police, Levi and Hanji will be planted in Stohess already to engage should anything get out of hand," directed Erwin, who looked at the two in question for confirmation. He was satisfied once both nodded.

"Good. Now, Miche will be supervising a group of recruits in an isolated base located in Wall Rose. We can assume that there are more titans similar to Annie and that they could be conspiring together, Armin suggested this would be a good way to avoid interference from others," Erwin explained, lowering himself into his seat. "This plan has already been told to Mikasa and Eren but I'd like you four to talk with them at dinner to confirm that they're prepared. Everyone is dismissed."

Miche and Levi, who both sat across from you and Hanji- who was on your right -stood and saluted the Commander, Levi sharing a few words with Erwin, before they left the office. Hanji took a moment to gather the map they had brought for the demonstration and said a quick goodbye to both you and the Commander before exiting as well.

You remained seated, brows furrowed slightly in confusion. "Sir?" you asked, as he stood and made his way towards his work desk a few feet away. It was sitting by a window that stretched a large part of the back wall, overlooking the training grounds. The desk was filled with papers and had a few ink stains that must have been only a day old since the desk looks to have been cleaned fairly recently.

"Yes, Squad Leader?" Erwin questioned mentioning your name after your assigned title, raising a brow as he looked up to you from the letter he had grabbed before taking a seat.

You sat, silent for a moment in confusion. "Commander, what would you like me to do tomorrow?" you asked, standing and pushing in your chair, walking closer to his desk so that you stood in front of it.

Erwin placed the letter down at his desk, giving you his full attention as he folded his hands on the desk. "You'll join me to the capital. I'm expecting to be arrested by the Military Police once they find out about this plan so I'll need you by my side. Once the situation is explained I'm sure we'll be let go and allowed to join the others, but until then I'll need you to be with me in case a tricky situation arises," Erwin explained. "I was going to mention this later in the night since I'm still questioning whether it would be better for you to be with Miche, but for now the plan is for you to accompany me tomorrow. Understood?"

You fixed your posture into a salute and nodded. "Yes sir!" you exclaimed. Erwin offered a tight smile in response and dismissed you, returning to his paperwork.

Walking out of the office and shutting the door behind you, you made your way to your room. It was at the opposite end of the hall along with Captain Levi's- who had a slightly larger room than you -Hanji's, and Miche's. This floor was reserved for Squad Leaders, the Captain, and the Commander.

Your room was a decent size, comfortable for one person. It had a bed, bookshelf, desk, and lounge chair that fit comfortably within the room without feeling like it was cluttered. The bathroom and closet doors were beside each other on the left wall, both providing enough space for what they were required for. Your room had two windows on either side of the bed and two gaslights hung just barely above them.

All in all, the room was perfect for somebody who didn't spend much time in it. With most days either on the training grounds with your squad, in town gathering supplies, or on expeditions not much time was spent here. However, now was the perfect opportunity for you to take an hour or so to relax in bed before dinner time.

Grabbing your matches, notebook, and calligraphy pen off the desk you made your way to the right side of your bed, striking the match and igniting the gaslight. You walked over to the left side to do the same before blowing out the match and tossing it into the empty glass on your bedside table that was once filled with water.

Sitting up in your bed you grabbed the notebook and pen you had placed beside you. Using the ink container on the bedside table to dip your pen in you began to rewrite the plans explained earlier by the Commander. This was something you did often to keep everything you needed to know fresh in your mind so that should any mistake happen you could readjust a situation to fall along the original path intended.

This habit had come in handy many times throughout your years as a Squad Leader and has saved many misfortunes from happening. Your quick thinking and leadership in tough situations were often praised by young recruits and even your fellow veterans alike.

While writing your last few sentences the bell atop the headquarters had rung, signaling that the clock had struck six o'clock and that it was now dinner time. Lying the notebook open on your bed to dry and closing the ink container, you stood up and made your way to the mess hall once you put on your boots.

Hanji had left their room at the same time you had, calling out your name and walking up to you to join you on your walk downstairs. "Are you ready for tomorrow?" Hanji asked, pushing the door that leads to the steps downstairs open for you both.

"I am. In fact, I'm currently writing everything down in my notebook," you informed, quietly thanking them for the door.

Hanji clapped their hands together once, the sound echoing in the stairwell. "Great! That may very well come in handy tomorrow, especially since the plan is set to take place inside Wall Sina," Hanji said, opening the door to the mess hall once more.

You hummed, bowing your head down slightly as another thanks. "Yes, that's a little worrisome, but I trust Erwin and his plan so really, I'm more anxious for tomorrow to come than I am worried about it going wrong," you replied.

"I feel the same!" they exclaimed, taking a seat once you both reached your usual table. Levi was already sitting with his tray of food while Miche was grabbing both yours and his. Levi had already grabbed Hanji's tray for them.

You smiled at Miche when he returned, setting the tray he got for you down. You gave a small thank you and properly sat down so that you were across from Levi. The meal was relatively silent between you four while the others in the mess hall were rather rowdy as always. Miche was the one to break the silence.

"We should ask Eren, Mikasa, and Armin to join us quickly to confirm the plan with them like Erwin asked," he suggested, setting his fork down on his empty plate.

You nodded in agreement, "yes, we should. I'll go gather the three of them quickly." With that, you stood from your seat and walked over to the table where Eren, Mikasa, and Armin sat. "You three," you pointed to them, "follow me." You gesture with your finger to follow the order, leading them to the table. Usually, you'd have been more polite in requesting them to follow your orders, however with how few people knew of the plan and you didn't want to arouse suspicions and questions you were required to be more firm.

Once you led them to the table Levi instructed them to each take a seat, to which they took across from you- where you now sat beside Levi. "Commander Erwin requested that the four of us went over the plan with you three to ensure you guys know what needs to be done tomorrow. Are there any questions?"

Eren looked to be holding something in while Armin and Mikasa remained silent and shook their heads. You frowned at noticing Eren's inner conflict. "Jaeger, what is it?" you asked.

The brown-haired boy looked up at you, eyes wide for a moment before he sighed. "Are we really sure that Annie is the Female Titan?" he questioned. "Look, I know how smart Armin is and I'm not saying that his suspicions are wrong, but well... what if they are?"

Mikasa was quick to elbow him, her face as blank as ever, but a sound of disappointment left her lips. "Come on Eren, you know that all the signs point to Annie. You will see the truth tomorrow, accept it." That was the harsh truth. A young girl that the cadets had grown up with was a traitor.

Eren shook his head quickly, clearing his thoughts. "Yeah yeah, you're right, I'm sorry. I'll be prepared tomorrow, no matter what. We'll catch her, I promise!" Eren vowed, growing more enthusiastic with each word.

"You better be," was Levi's reply. "We need you three in order to get Annie to where we need her to be, so please, don't fuck this up."

You frowned, flicking Levi's shoulder. "They're children! Stop putting so much pressure on them!" you scolded, turning your head towards the cadets. "Just do your best, Hanji, Levi, and the others will be there as a backup just in case," you assured, alleviating some of the worries you saw in Eren's and Armin's eyes.

Once the three of them nodded you allowed them to stay with you for the remainder of dinner until the bell rang, signaling it was time to make their way to their rooms. You and the others remained still in the mess hall, however. Nanaba, Moblit, and a few other Survey Corps veterans joined you at the table.

It was common for you all to share a bottle of beer each before a serious plan. Not enough to get even close to drunk, but enough to mask some of the stress if even for a few hours. So, as Miche and Moblit returned back to the table with the bottles of beer, everyone cheered and took a swig from their bottles, settling into a small conversation.

The conversations went from one topic to the other, even a few stories shared amongst one another until the doors were heard creaking open. Everyone's head turned, assuming it was a cadet that'd have to be ordered to return to their room immediately, but everyone was surprised when they saw the Commander.

It wasn't often Erwin came down to the mess hall for dinner, typically getting his meals sent to his office so that he would be able to continue his work, but occasionally he'd make his way down to get his meal himself. He hadn't yet noticed everyone, since he was at the complete opposite end of the large room, but a quick glance around and his eyes had landed on your table.

He made careful steps towards you all, his eyes roaming each and every one of you, and then the bottles you all possessed- some empty, some nearly there, some barely dipped at. "Everyone," he greeted, dipping his head just a centimeter as a sign of respect.

"Commander," was everyone's reply, followed by the same action. You and Levi moved closer to the end of the bench you both were sitting at as an invitation for Erwin to sit, which he gladly accepted.

"A beer sir?" Nanaba asked, offering to grab him one from the kitchen.

"Please," was Erwin's answer. As Nanaba made their way to grab a beer for the Commander, he took the opportunity to ask a question. "Stressful night?" His lips formed a slight smile, almost like a knowing grin.

Levi scoffed, drinking what little was left in his bottle before placing it down on the table with a little less force than a slam. "You know damn well it is Eyebrows," he said.

You rolled your eyes, "Oh please, not this again!" you groaned. "Does it ever get tiring of using the same old stupid nickname? Honestly, be more creative!" you told Levi, causing Hanji to let out a surprised laugh beside you, nearly spilling the beer from their mouth and covering it with a napkin.

Levi was about to retort, pointing his finger at you when Erwin interfered, reaching his hand across the table to gran the beer Nanaba offered him. "Thanks," he said before looking at you both. "Now you two, is there ever a day you both get along?"

"Hey! We get along just fine," you defended, looking surprised when everyone laughed. "Oh come on! We just have a sort of sibling relationship, fuck off," you said, feigning anger when you grabbed your drink and took a sip. 

Conversations once again picked up, this time with Erwin participating this time round. It was a nice relaxer before a day like tomorrow, and it was nice for you to see the Commander so at ease. Everyone knew how much he overworked himself, but all attempts to remove himself from his desk were rendered fruitless when he was so focused on his work. It was only at times like these did he allow himself to take time for himself, and times like these also helped everyone else.

Seeing their Commander with a slight smile and loose shoulders, enjoying himself, was a relieving sight for all soldiers. It could even be a sign of hope for some of them, much like yourself. With little driving you forward, other than the freedom of humanity, it was difficult to find reason in why you fight. It was not uncommon for you to question your goal when it seemed unattainable at times, but when the leader of it all seems to have the hope and the drive for it, it gave you the motivation to do the same.

But unfortunately, like most things, all good things come to an end and it was time for everyone to rest up for what tomorrow would bring. Clean-up and 'good nights' were done quickly, everyone departing towards their rooms, all but Erwin who stayed seated. He allowed you to take a few steps forward before calling out your name.

"I've decided on a definitive plan for you tomorrow," he started, standing up and making his way towards you. He tossed out his beer in the trash near you. "I'll need you with me. Miche can handle the cadets by himself, and should he need help Nanaba is going with him. I don't yet know what tomorrow is going to bring, and you're one of our best when it comes to easing a tricky situation. We need you on the front lines, so you'll come with me."

His tone gave no room for questions, Erwin's plan was settled and nothing would change. Still, you replied with an, "understood sir," before making your way to your room again. You paused when you reached the door, and without turning around, said, "good night Erwin."

"Good night," he responded, a hint of a smile in his voice. Allowing the doors to shut behind you, you walked up the stairs and into your room, deciding to take a quick, cool shower. The cool, almost warm, water helped to clear your thoughts so you only focused on the temperature of the water. It wasn't your usual or go to temperature, but on nights like this, it was a good way to get your mind off things without writing yourself to death.

Once out of the shower, you dried yourself, brushed your death, and did your usual nightly arrangements before walking towards the bed. You took a few minutes to think to yourself, like you did most nights, and allowed for yourself to soak in the silence. Zoning in on one particular spot in the ceiling, you thought about tomorrow.

Everything about this plan Erwin had come up with was a gamble. It relied on the soldiers there to capture Annie without trouble, but there would be no idea what would happen. Stohess was in the center of civilization, in Wall Sina, and the fear of Annie transforming into a titan within that wall was frightening to you.

You had good reason to be frightened too, with what the results of this plan, this gamble, could mean for you and for many. However, while many feared for the lives of their family and themselves, you feared the truth that may arise, because although discovery could be a great thing, change was often terrifying in a world ruled by titans.

But, Erwin had trust in himself and his soldiers. He believed that sacrificing lives for change was necessary in war, much like many leaders before him would agree. Death was a result of war, and Erwin risked people's lives. However, he was a gambler after all.

And he would regret that by the time the sun set tomorrow night.

#false accusations #erwin smith x reader #erwin x reader #erwin smith #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #aot #aot x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk #snk x readers #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #miche zacharius #moblit berner #nanaba #mikasa ackerman #eren jeager #armin arlert #annie leonhart #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #action #titans #x reader #my writing #commander erwin #commander erwin smith

[theoreticslut]

Skating Around Our Feelings

pairing: oliver wood x reader

requested: yes (@mischievous-queen) ; 21 & 67 from holiday prompt list (ice skating & ‘I love you’)

word count: 2.1k

warnings: fluff, lots of fluff

A/N: ugh, I am so so sorry this took forever to get up!! It’s been a ride the last two weeks, but it’s up now & I hope you like it as much as I do!! General updates; I am working on other stories at the moment that will hopefully be up soon 🤞🏻 I’ve had some time to write this past weekend since I’ve been laying in bed with a cold/sinus infection (that still hasn’t really gone away) but yay fics!! Also, if you like to request more fics from the prompt list PLS do! I could really use the help getting in the spirit for the holidays. Things are not very merry here & I hate it. What better way to ignore it than to write happy winter-y/holiday fics?? So pls, pls request some holiday stuff I’m begging you. Other than that, just thank you again for everyone who follows me and reads my stuff, reblogs/comments/likes it. It all makes me so happy so just thank you! Like a hundred times thank you Xx

Taglist: @justmesadgirl @xuckduck @yikesyikesyikes95 @filipi-yes @aestheticwh0r3 @siredkai @matsuno-nadeshiko @msmarklee1213 @immajustreadwritereblog @msmimimerton @perfectlysane24 @mischievous-queen @bunnyboo7 @grandeoptimist @daddystevee @slytherinxhunter @streetfighterrichie @softlyqoos @sarcasticallywitty15 @isthereanymorejello @karushinekomiya @p0gue420 @hogwartslut @sebby-staan

^let me know if you’d like to be added/removed! Xx

“Hey, love. How’re you today?” Oliver asks as you sit down beside him on the couch.

“Good. Just tired from all the homework.” You say, curling up into his side as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“Did ya get it done, darling?”

You shrug, smiling lightly as you breathe in your best friend’s cologne. Somehow you had managed to befriend the quidditch-focused gryffindor and was able to worm your way into his life.

Normally, Oliver was so busy with quidditch and classes, he didn’t have much time for anyone else. That’s not to say that he didn’t have friends, because Merlin knows he had enough, but you were able to land yourself a spot as his best friend.

He would find the time to hang out with you, even if it was while he was doing homework or thinking up new quidditch strategies. Someway or another he’d make sure that you two spent time together.

Truthfully, you were the main reason he smiled each day. He looked forward to seeing you during classes or sitting with you at meals and in the common room. He especially loved when you’d join him for quidditch practices, sitting in the stands watching him and cheering him on, even if you had brought something of your own to do, such as homework.

He loved having you around and couldn’t picture having anyone else as his best friend. What he didn’t realize about being best friends with you, however, was just how easy it was to fall in love with you. He would deny it if someone were to point it out, but he was completely in love with you.

He’s not entirely sure when it had happened; Maybe it was sometime between all your late night study sessions in the common room where you would get so tired you would start laughing at anything, usually getting him to smile and chuckle along with you. Or maybe it was after you’ve spent a few too many nights crying to him after an unsuccessful date or finding out a guy you had been crushing on and thought liked you back ended up dating someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, it was something else all together.

Whatever it was, he had fallen for you hard and had no idea how to tell you.

You sigh in response to his question. You had managed to get most of it done, but it still seemed you had a lot left to do.

“Not all of it. I still feel like there’s so much to do.”

“It feels it, but is there really, love?”

He knows how in your head you get, which often leads to you stressing out over nothing at all. He’s only seen you do so a million times, occasionally getting so stressed out that you break down crying.

You think it over a minute, absentmindedly chewing on your bottom lip as you do. Oliver sighs happily as he watches you, wondering what it’d be like to chew on it for you.

“No, I guess there’s really not.”

“Alright. So stop stressing out over it, darling. Take a breath, would ya?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes at your best friend but smiling nonetheless, not being able to help it when he gives you that smirk of his.

“You know I’m right, don’t ya darling?”

“Shut up, Ollie. You know you are.” You huff, crossing your arms and pouting.

“You stress yourself out too much, love. Why don’t you take the rest of the day for yourself, yeah? I have an idea of something we could do.”

You frown in confusion, looking up at him. You were aware of the fact that he was your best friend and knew you quite well, arguably better than yourself sometimes, but you never had any idea what he was thinking. What could he possibly have been planning for you?

He smiles, looking down at your beautifully confused face. You didn’t even have to try to look cute and you were. It drove him crazy.

“What are you thinking, Ollie?” You ask, leaning up slightly to look at him better.

He was beyond handsome, simply born with unfairly attractive features. However, his years of playing quidditch did him well on top of it. You could see why there were so many girls, you included, that found him nice to look at...and occasionally drool over.

You realized you liked him fairly quickly after befriending him. You had gotten to see different sides of his personality and you got to know his deepest dreams, fears, and secrets. For you, liking him was so much more than just finding him attractive, but you could never tell him that.

No, you were much too afraid of losing him as a friend to even consider telling him how you felt about him.

You watch as he smiles, nodding his head in the direction of the windows.

“The black lake has frozen over by now. I thought that maybe you’d enjoy taking the afternoon to ice skate? I know how much you like it.” He smiles again, watching you for your reaction.

You light up, having not even considered it. It’s true that you liked skating, and Oliver definitely knew that. You had only taken him skating a dozen times on the rink set up in your town when he came to visit you on Christmas break in your guys’ second year.

“You’d really join me?” You ask, shocked that he would suggest it.

While you certainly liked skating, he could live without it. He wasn’t the most skilled at it, having fallen over many a time. He had gotten better over the years as you’ve been trying to teach him, but he still fumbled more than enough.

“Well, yeah. It was my idea wasn’t it?” He chuckles, loving how excited you were over it.

“Yeah, but Ollie you always complain about it.” You chuckle.

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. I have heard many choice words come out of you whenever we’ve gone skating together.” You giggle, poking a finger in his chest as he smiles.

“Okay, I’ve complained a little. But I think I’ve finally got a hang of it.” He smiles.

You roll your eyes, not being able to help but smile and chuckle at your friend. He was something else, but only you got to see this side of him.

~.~

It didn’t take either of you long to get ready, making sure to dress in layers and grab your skates. You had gotten him a pair of his own as a Christmas gift back in your third year, continually getting him a pair that fit him every year or so.

You had been out here for awhile, a good 45 minutes at least and you had done nothing but skate circles around your best friend, giggling when he’d curse you for being so skilled.

“Seriously?! How are you so good at this, y/n. It isn’t fair.” Oliver pouts, holding his hands out as he starts to lose his balance.

“You know, I would’ve thought you’d get the hang of it by now, being so good at quidditch and everything. It really isn’t all that different.” You say, skating over to him as he straightens himself out.

“This and quidditch are so different!”

“Not really, Ollie.” You chuckle, watching as he nearly loses his balance again.

“Look, you need your balance in quidditch, yeah? Well you need your balance here. Instead of sitting on a broom, however, you’re standing up.”

He tries straightening out again, standing too stiff and nearly losing his balance again.

You giggle, holding onto his arm so he doesn’t fall over.

“I don’t get it, love. What am I doing wrong?”

“Well first, you’re too stiff. Whether you’re trying to stand up or if your hunched over to keep from falling. Think of your posture like...dancing.”

“Dancing?” He looks at you confused, not following your train of thought at all.

“Yes, like dancing. You have to stand straight, but you can’t be as stiff as a board or else it looks and feels awkward, yeah? You have be fluid in your movements. Postured, but fluid.”

You smile as you take his one hand in yours, placing his other on your waist as yours rest on his shoulder as if you two are going to ballroom dance.

He smiles down at you, his heart rate erratic.

“Secondly, you’re overthinking it all. You just have to feel it. Just like dancing, or quidditch, you just do what feels natural. Eventually it starts to get better.”

You slowly start to skate backwards, pulling Oliver along with you.

“Woah. y/n.” you giggle as you can see him start to panic at the movement. After all these winters of you trying to teach him, he has still managed to barely move smoothly.

“It’s alright, Oliver. Stop thinking about it and just move. Small steps, like dancing.”

He sighs, holding onto you tight as he tries to do what you told him. He keeps his eyes on you as he makes small steps, like he’s dancing with you, not even realizing that you two were skating.

“There you go. Not so bad now is it?” You tease.

“Not like this.” He smiles.

“You want to try it without holding onto me? I can still hold your hand if you’d like?” You suggest, watching as his face shows panic.

“It’ll be okay, Ollie. I’ll be right here.” You smile, swinging yourself around so you were now side by side.

He looks over at you, already nervous about this but he relaxes when he sees your smile. You believe in him and he knows it, which makes him believe in himself a little bit more.

“You’re doing really well. Best you ever have, actually.” You chuckle, smiling at him, your eyes twinkling with happiness.

“I think I’m finally listening to you teach me. You’re a good teacher when I pay attention.” He smiles, causing you to chuckle.

“Alright, Wood. Now I want you to go out a bit on your own before turning around and coming back to me, okay? Just remember dancing. Postured, but fluid. And you’re going to lead with your body, yeah?”

“Wait, y/n -“

Before he can protest you’ve let go of his hand, leaving him completely on his own. He starts to panic before he remembers your words.

Slowly, he relaxes his muscles and stands up a bit straighter, but not too straight. He makes small steps forward, easily gliding across the ice. He smiles when he realizes he’s finally doing it. He’s finally ice skating without falling over.

“Y/n! Look, I’m doing it!” He cheers, slowly turning around to face you, skating his way back to where you stood.

“I knew you could, Ollie.” You smile, chuckling as he grabs a hold of you to stop, his hands holding onto your hips as yours are holding onto his biceps.

He smiles down at you for a minute, not quite believing how extraordinary you are. Here you are; his beyond beautiful best friend who has a heart of gold, who is constantly stressing herself out over nothing yet is so carefree and laidback, and who he wishes he could call his girlfriend.

He watches you for a minute, his heart melting as you smile at him. Before he can think much about it, he’s leaning down and kissing you, wrapping his arms around you as he pulls you closer to him.

It takes you a second to register what’s happening, but once you do you find yourself kissing him back, a smile growing on your lips as you kiss.

When you two pull apart neither of you can stop the smiles on your faces.

“What was that for, Oliver?” You ask gently, pushing some of the hair squished by his hair off his forehead.

“I love you. A lot.”

You smile, kissing him once more.

“I love you too. A lot.” You giggle, copying him but you both know you’re just teasing. You couldn’t be any happier at the moment .

He smiles, kissing you again, drawing a giggle from you as he starts skating forwards, making you glide backwards.

“Thank you for teaching me how to ice skate, darling. Don’t think I could’ve done it without ya.” He smiles, kissing your nose.

You chuckle, shaking your head at the brunette you get to call your boyfriend from here on out.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fluff #harry potter fanfiction #oliver wood #oliver wood x reader #oliver wood imagine #oliver wood fluff #oliver wood fanfiction #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp fanfic

[nygmobblepot-trash]

I think it's so funny that Mobius is just some dude. No powers. No fighting skills. Not a super genius. Just a seemingly nice guy who likes jet skis and refuses to stop researching Loki.

My headcannon is if you get high enough you can get assigned to high level variants (people who are highly volatile so they have a lot of variants) to focus on. Low level agents just get assigned to random rare variants who won't really be much of a challenge.

So Mobius is taught by Ravonna. She quickly realizes he can't fight... like at all. Not only that he is too nice and she is afraid he won't be able to prune variants. Mobius tells her he can do it and she reluctantly takes him on a case. She picks one that she believes will be too much for Mobius but easy for her. She thinks he would be a better analyst and wants him to see that as soon as possible.

Unfortunately things get out of hand almost immediately. The two get separated and when Rovonna finds Mobius he is badly hurt and about to be killed. For some reason he has gotten rid of the pruning stick and is casually confronting the variant. He says a few words and the variant crumbles to the ground in tears. She is too far to hear what he said when she demands to know later on he shrugs and says he read the variant's files. Then he does something that further worries her. He argues for the variant's life. She explains that this is the only way to maintain the time-line and prunes the variant without any more arguments. She notices he looks upset by this but figures he will get over it. They all had to, it is apart of the job.

Years go by and Mobius still tries to do things his way. He only prunes if it is absolutely necessary. He also annoyingly goes to every trial and tries to repurpose the variants. Even though the Judge rarely allows it.

She questions his loyalty to the TVA often. She assures herself that he is just too nice and hates violence. This is why she makes sure he stays under her. She also takes credit for his work (technically it is her work as well since she has to prune the variant or bring them in when Mobius refuses). It's for his own good of course. Who knows what the time keepers would do if they found out one of their own agents didn't want to do things the way they wanted. By becoming Judge herself she would be able to protect himself from himself. Or maybe she fears what will happen to her since she is his superior.

Mobius quickly realizes he enjoys reading about people and figuring out what makes them tick. Not only that, but what tiny change could change a person's whole trajectory for life. A simple sentence could break or build a person. Sure not everyone is that simple, but there are times when they are. Everyone has at least one point in their life when multiple different outcomes could be possible. Thus nexus events are born. They are supposed to prune the area and move on, but Mobius hated that. Just because you took one wrong turn doesn't mean you couldn't get back on the same path again. He had proven that when he had the chance. When he was alone and not with someone focused on the mission. The variants are people who deserve to live. They aren't trying to destroy the time line. So he did his best to save every last one of them. To find the one thing to say to get them back on the right path before it is too late.

He wanted things to change so he kept solving cases to climb the ladder to get a voice. If the time keepers knew there was another way maybe they could order the agents to keep pruning as when all else fails. So he researched and researched. One day he found a file that was impossiblely long.

Apparently this person had more variants than anyone. He was intrigued. So he spent any free time he had reading about the person and their many, many, many variants. The more he read the angrier he got. Yes this person was extremely troubled, but they were always so close to being something more. If everything went how it should go they are killed after they decide to go to the good side. Otherwise the TVA prunes them before they can even find who they are. Mobius believes they want to do good, be good, but they just need someone to believe in them, to support them. If he could be in charge of finding this variant he could save them. It would be different this time though, instead of putting them back on the correct path to die, he will give them a new purpose. A glorious purpose the variant would describe it as. What that purpose is will take time to figure out. He prepares anyways, by looking for key moments where a nexus event may happen. One of these plans involved making a 'greatest' hits playlist of the person.

Years pass and a variant of the interesting person has killed the agent assigned to them. Mobius knowing he is about to be assigned goes to Ravonna. She explains it is up to the time keepers and tells him there is no way it will happen. She tells him he would be killed almost immediately. A week later she is at a lost for words when she receives Mobius's assignment. All it says is, Loki. When she shows Mobius he hides a smile. She pretends to be happy for him, but can't help not to see the writing on the wall. This is where he will learn what his kindness will get him.

More time passes and hunters are killed, but Mobius still lives and he is struggling to bring in the variant. As time goes on and more and more die she watches him get more and more desperate. He explains if he could just talk to variant things would change. The only thing saving his life is that he hasn't gotten his wish.

Then the hunters catch one of Loki's variants. She quickly moves to trial before Mobius can hear of it. Unfortunately he arrives as she tries to get the variant to plead. She is surprised when Mobius stays quiet even when she decided to reset the variant.

That is until the variant shouts, "You have no idea what I am capable of!"

Mobius arises nonchalantly and explains he might know what the variant is capable of.

Rovanna decides to let Mobius approach. As he does she quickly realizes what he is doing. The variant wanted a task force to go after the Avengers. Surely Mobius wouldn't be crazy enough to use this variant. He explains he is due to a hunch. She knows she should say no, but she is willing to do anything that may help Mobius bring in the variant currently killing too many TVA personnel. So she agree with a warning.

Now she isn't sure she made the right choice... or ever made the right choice. That tends to happen when what you fought so hard for turns out to possibly be a lie.

Mobius on the other hand is ecstatic. This Loki variant is perfect. He had prepared for this day for years. If his hunch was correct (and of course it would be) then he could stop the cycle. Prove that even a Loki can be saved. Variants could be allies. What better way to do that then to send a variant after a variant (he realizes the irony of this later)?

If you could ask Mobius if he feels the same way now, he would tell you yes. He would tell you he would do it all again in a heart beat. But currently he is burning down the TVA so you'll have to ask later.

#headcanon #Mobius #loki #ravonna renslayer #sorry this is long #i just sort of went off

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 7

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

sdfsfdgdfgf

^^^^^ my actual thoughts after writing this.

There was no denying that he was still thinking about that Saturday night. The feeling had been extraordinary. It’s been some time ever since he felt like this, but there was also something more. And he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

First thing he did on Monday when getting to work was to lock himself in his office, his thoughts empty as he repeatedly drummed a pen against his desk, his gaze hardly focusing on anything. He did call for someone though at some point, taking this waiting time as an opportunity to collect his thoughts into something comprehensible.

Some knocks were heard at the door, a single “yes” escaping Donnie, an approval for the newcomer to come in. Next came into view another turtle adorning a red do-rag, this one much more massive when compared to the bespectacled mutant. It was none other than Raphael, the muscular terrapin a rare sight in the building as he was often more out to meet clients than stuck behind a desk.

“What’s up?” he started, closing the door behind him. “I’m on a tight schedule, so it better be important.”

Raph did frown a little as he noticed his brother’s composure, the purple clad mutant’s eyes speaking volumes.

“I, uhm... I need some advice,” finally said Donnie.

“What kind? A client’s giving you troubles?” added the other, taking a seat.

Donatello tsked, quickly waving that query away: “No, I know how to deal with those. ... It’s more of a personal matter. A... relationship one.”

Raph’s eyes widened a little, then relaxing his stance with an amused smirk.

“Well, well, well... back in business, I see? I thought that receptionist situation would keep you out of the market for quite some time.”

“Oh please, that girl was crazy. I’m just glad she moved out of the city. ... It’s been more than a year, I’ve moved on.”

“What’s the matter then?” added the red clad terrapin. “You forgot how to socialize or somethin’?”

Donnie quietly chuckled, leaning back in his chair, then thoughtful.

“Oh no, I’ve been socializing, alright... I just don’t want to fuck it up, you know? Things have been going so well now and on this last Saturday we took it a lil’ further-”

“How much further?”

“We kissed.”

“Bro, that’s nothin’.”

Tension was broken for a moment, both brothers snickering. That did help Donnie and calmed his thoughts a little.

“Who is it though?” next asked Raphael. “Someone working here or... ?”

“She’s a project manager for our creative team. She got here from Montréal a couple months back and we met one night by pure coincidence as we were both working late. Her name’s Véronique, but I call her Vee.”

“Oohh, already on a nickname basis, now that’s a feat,” teased the other.

“Please, she asked me to call her like that on the first night we met.”

“Ay, you know I’m just pokin’ some fun at you. ... What’s the matter, then? Why aren’t you talking about that to Leo or Mikey?”

“Because,” started Donnie. “Leo would try to dissuade me into pursuing this relationship, and Mikey well ... you know him. He’d say: ‘Invite her to my place and have her swim in the pool. Girls love pools!’,” mimicked the purple clad mutant. “... You know he’d only want that so he can have a look at her as well. I ain’t having none of that shit.”

Raph laughed once again, acknowledging those statements.

“And, to be frank,” added the bespectacled one. “I value your judgement. You get straight to the point and that’s what I need right now.” He leaned foward a little on his desk, hands joined. “So my concern is; what should I do next? We have interest for one another - we openly expressed as much. We obviously have a good chemistry together... but how do I know she’s the one? ... She feels different from anything, anyone, I’ve ever been with before, may it be in terms of relationships or not.”

“Easy,” shrugged Raph. “Have sex with her.”

“Raph!”

“I’m serious! ... You wanna know if she’s the one? Show yourself vulnerable before her. If there’s something more between you two, it’ll click.”

Donnie sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing them in slight annoyance.

“Okay so what, I just have to sleep with her, no strings attached? I hope you’re not suggesting for me to force myself upon her.”

“Hell no, stupid. I said be vulnerable, not a psycho,” frowned the red clad mutant. “Look ... you wanted my opinion, there it is. I believe in deep connections, and if right now you’re already feeling something special between you two, I don’t see what’s bad about wanting to explore that and see if there’s truly something more. ... Also, people can fuck for the fun of it, I hope you know that?”

Donnie exhaled sharply, half of a smile next on his lips: “I suddenly regret asking for your opinion, but I do see your point.”

“I’m sure you can be a gentleman about all of that.”

“My brain turns to goo whenever I’m with her. I try not to show it, but damn... I don’t think she’d get to that point though, I don’t know...”

“As long as it naturally gets there, that’s what matters. ... Those things are felt, Donnie. I’m not saying to rush it, but rather to not be scared.”

The purple clad one conceeded, lowkey admiring his brother’s wisdom about the matter. He finally rose from his seat, inviting Raph to do the same.

“Alright, I won’t take more of your time. You’ve given me enough food for thought.”

“‘Bout time, I have to go Uptown, I’ll be late ‘cause of you,” Raph teased, playfully nudging his brother’s shoulder along the way.

“Har, har, very funny,” added the other, opening the door so both could exit the room.

As they were about to say their goodbyes, a voice rose, followed by the light clicking sound of hurried heels against the floor.

“Donnie, good timing!”

Both turtles turned their attention to a woman coming their way; Vee. She was holding a pile of documents, already taking some apart and then handing them to the tall terrapin when she was next to him.

“I’ll need you to sign some of these before Wednesday. Some designs for an upcoming project need an approval and I thought you’d be the best for that task. And I- ...” She stopped, finally noticing the other mutant. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Absolutely not,” smiled Donnie, properly holding the documents now. “We had just finished our small meeting, actually.” He gestured the woman to his brother: “Raph, this is Vee, our newest project manager addition.”

The red clad turtle grinned, extending his hand to the human in a proper greeting.

“Ah yes, Donnie mentionned you a couple of times.”

“Oh dear, I hope it wasn’t in a bad way,” lightly laughed Vee, shaking Raph’s hand.

“I would never,” reassured Donnie gently, his free hand instinctively resting at the small of her back.

A faint blush appeared on the woman’s cheeks, next adjusting her hold on the documents as her handshake with Raph ended.

“Not to be a party pooper, but I’ve gotta run,” she said with a smile. “I have a lot of stuff to hand out. Have a good day you two!”

She made sure to cross Donnie’s gaze before walking away, wanting to express her small longing to him. As she was back on her way, Raph did not hesitate to follow her frame, judging her for a moment. He finally looked back at Donnie with a look of approval.

“... Brother, you got taste.”

Donnie only replied by hiding his face with the documents he was holding.

***

Raph had said to not be scared, but Donnie couldn’t help still feeling that way. A part of him wanted to spend every moments with Vee, but on the other hand he didn’t want to appear too clingy or demanding. Gotta savor it like a fine wine, he’d try to reason. ... But frankly he just wanted to chug the damn bottle.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and so far he had only exchanged some words with her on Monday, then Wedneseday when he handed her back the approved documents he reviewed. Then he’d retreat to his office and think. And think. And think.

A ping from his computer got him out of his reverie, noticing a direct message notification.

His heart skipped a beat, his lips forming a thin line as he thought about what to answer.

Hey, wanna bang? Gosh, he felt dirty thinking about that... Keep it natural, Donnie, you don’t have to think about that for now. See where things go from there, naturally.

ABORT MISSION. ABORT MISSION. ABORT!!!! He felt so goddamn cheesy after sending that.

If it were up to him 100%, he’d get on his feet right this instant and sweep her off to anywhere she’d want to go. But he tried to keep it cool:

You’re the best one so far...

More like I’ll be lying down on the floor, a blushing mess. He couldn’t erase his smile, rereading again and again this conversation. He’d definitely have to think of something!

***

Later in the afternoon, as people were finishing their day, Donnie had reclused himself back into his drawing room, continuing some work on the Lowline plans. He was so focused that he did not hear Vee come in, the woman calmly making her way to his position.

“Hey...” she started softly, leaving a hand on his shoulder.

Donnie gasped, his hand holding a pencil jerking and leaving a long mark on the paper. Both froze, eyes wide as they witnessed the horror.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you that much!” apologized Vee, already on the look out for an eraser. “Here, let me help you with that.”

“No it’s alright. I, uh...”

Donnie’s sentence died as the woman was now hunched close to him, already removing traces of that nasty mistake.

“I could’ve done it. I...”

His voice was hushed, having a hard time to keep focus on Vee’s movement, prefering to look at her features instead.

“I ... I could do it,” he added.

Vee slowed her movement, finally looking at Donnie.

“Do what?”

He paused, his heart drumming in his chest.

“This...”

He delicately placed a finger under Vee’s chin, not even needing to move much in order to bring them both closer for a soft kiss. The woman was surprised at first, but she quickly melted, not even denying that she had been craving the feeling as well since that Saturday night... She dropped the eraser, her hands prefering to trail along the mutant’s scales. As they broke the kiss to breathe, Donnie brought her closer to his sitting position, Vee now standing inbetween his legs. No words needed to be said, this sudden electrifying feeling passing through them. The terrapin’s hands couldn’t get off of her, either lost in her hair or tracing her back. The more they joined in a kiss, the more they wanted to be closer. At some point the turtle acted on instinct as he rose up, his hold on the woman’s hips as he laid her against the inclined drafting board. The paper crinkled underneath, but he gave no care in the world about that. Their kiss was heating up, a low pleasured churr rumbling in Donnie’s chest as he stood close to Vee’s core, feeling her desire as strong as his.

The distant sound of people talking and laughing, still around and about to exit the building, brought them both to a stop - looking at the room’s entrance, as if afraid someone would pop in at any second.

Both were lightly panting, their smiles shy after what happened. Donnie took that moment of grace to study Vee’s features, gently brushing away some wild strands of hair off her face. He straightened his stance back up afterward, helping the woman back on her feet.

“Welp, and here I came only to wish you a good evening,” chuckled Vee, adjusting her clothes.

“I’m sorry,” added the mutant in a similar tone.

“Don’t be ... I liked that.”

She rested her hands on his chest, slowly rubbing the fabric of his shirt over his plastron.

“I can’t stay late tonight, but I won’t prevent you from doing so. ... Just don’t stay here too late though.”

“No promises.”

“Please, don’t overwork yourself,” softly pleaded Vee.

“Don’t worry...” he reassured with a smile, a hand cupping the other’s cheek.

They added one good evening kiss. Nothing more, nothing less. A pleasant omen for feelings to come...

((Part 8))

#it's-a-moi #business au #dammmmmmmmmmnnnnnnnnnnnnn #usual sorry if there's mistakes #I need to go to bed right now #BUT I COULDN'T STOP WRITING FSDJFHBSDBFBSDHFBSD

[witchyintention]

Deities: What Are They, How to Work With Them & How to Find Them.

As a beginner witch deities are exciting and most want to jump into it right away. As someone who works with 7 let me tell you it is draining. Most people will simply tell you a big fat NO! At the mention of deities and not really tell you why it's a no for beginners. For one it takes a lot out of you. For two deities are a big step in your practice and you must work on the fundamentals before you even think of working with them. If you don't work on your grounding, shadow work, mediation and basic knowledge of witchcraft things can spiral out of control. This can get very dangerous very quickly. Deities are gods (or simply higher beings. I refer them to gods often so just keep this as a note) after all and someone weak trying to handle something powerful is disastrous. 

Think of tv, video games or movies. When someone who doesn't know what they are doing trying to summon something they have no business summoning it turns into a horror shit show. 

This is kinda how you should think of deities. However you are more than capable of worshipping them just like any other religion. Pray and leave offerings. You can even ask for guidance from them and that's perfectly fine. But do reframe from actually using them in your spell work.

Let me tell you about the difference. I have yet to go into spell work but you always cast a circle. So working with would be talking with a guide during any point of a spell. Your circle is a sacred space that's intended for your energy. By inventing other beings into the circle you are allowing them access to your energies.

When seeking help you pray and ask for a sign. Remember to keep this way from any sort of spellwork, you do not want just anyone to have access to your energies. 

Any time that you invite them into your circle, they are able to use your energy and feed off it. Now inviting them can be as simple as saying their name. From that point you are working with them. Because once they can work with your energy they can effect your spellwork. If it's an entity, that can then cause potential harm. By allowing them in your circle you're opening up the chance of that happening. Spells could go wrong or you could end up in the hospital. There are many stories of novice witches opening their circle to these entities because they don't know any better. Many ended up in the hospital and even dead.

I have said witchcraft, as fun and exciting as it is, can be very dangerous. I do not tell you the things I do to scare you but to educate you. You need to know exactly what you're going into. And that is the purpose of this series.

Though I have been saying deities this also includes spirit guides such as the Fae, Angels Ancestors and everything in between. When you do get to this point in your practice you can in fact have a mix of all of them. I primarily work with the greek pantheon however I have called upon others to aid me in the message they were trying to give. For example I do not work with Apollo however a friend of mine had been seeing signs of him along with the name being whispered in the back of their mind. 

(I'll take any chance to include anime. 😅)

This friend came to me to see if it was realy Apollo or something else that was pretending to be the god. This also frequently happens with beginner witches. They are more prone to believing something that isn't a god when told it is. This friend knew that and consulted me about it. As a result I found out it was Apollo and had him aid me in the message he wished to tell this friend through tarot. 

This was an example of me working with a god who I do not usually work with. However it is very much okay and actually encouraged to do some reading into Spirit  guides such as deities, Angel's and so on. Read about their lore and things associated with them. This will help you later or even now if you have been seeing signs from them. 

However if you anything like me you'll fall far down the rabbit hole of deities. I have been studying on greek and roman mythology since the 4th or 5th grade. Later when I moved halfway through 5th grade I was thrown into a group where we would choose a topic and do research on it. The theme we chose was greek mythology. The god I chose was Hades. I had always felt Hades had a bad reputation. With that I had this crazy goal to try and explain to everyone in my class he wasn't a bad guy. That he was just a guy who loves his wife and dog. 

Here I am nearly ten years later working with him. Did it take me a while? Yes. Will it take you this long? Maybe not. For me most of the years I have spent being a witch was studying rather than actual spellwork. You learn by doing, sure but when you already know the knowledge, putting it into action is much easier. Not to mention not all of us could do actually spell work due to this and that. Whatever reason you might be in the broom closet for.

Now once you have done your research keep an eye out for potential signs. It's best to look into all the gods. I had a witch who had thought she was dealing with Hades when it actually turned out to be Anubis. They both similar for what they rule over so getting them confused as a beginner is understandable. Especially when you only do research on one type of lore like greek. It's best to explore all the lore of all the different types. You have Egyptian, Greek/Roman, Norse, Celtic, Japanese, Angels, Fae and so many more. Do you have to read up about all of them? No but you probably should.

But let's be real here. Not everyone is going to. So pick maybe five that stand out to you then most and go fall down the rabbit hole of spirit guides. Also do keep in mind that if you see signs of one they could simply have a message for you rather than being a potential deity to work with. Like I had explained earlier with Apollo. He had a message for my friend and it was nothing more than that. Spirit guides of any sort can come and go as they please. Some might only come because you need them then in that moment.

What I have noticed is most don't have more than three spirit guides. I'm sure there are many who have more but from what I have seen in finding them for people they have had three or less. I find the hardest ones to figure who exactly they are, there the ancestors. I've had a few witches ask me to help find their guides and it was an ancestor who dated back 500 years ago. At that point I have absolutely no idea how to tell you exactly who this person was. Especially since not everyone in the world was written in a history book for doing something worthy of being written in books.

Also not many can actually trace their family tree that far back anyways. I sure as hell can't. 

Now you're probably asking when is the right time to actually start working with them? Well it differs from person to person. You can ask a more established witch like myself. Other times you just know. But I wouldn't trust that "I just know feeling" until you have strong intuition skills. I have many of my Protégés and regulars asking if they are ready all the time. How do I know? Easy divination. I have a strong bond with my deities so they always tell me the truth even when it might hurt me. Sometimes I have to tell them that when I notice a hesitation in their answering.

And truthful you will know when you know. Meeting mine just happened out of the blue. I was doing tarot readings during a live broadcast when I was suddenly hit with fatigue. I had the sudden urge to ask my pendulum if my spirit guides were present. I had a hunch of who they might have been and went through the list. If they said yes I then gave a true or false question about said deities lore. Let me tell you meeting all seven of them was exhausting. That night I did 8 readings with 8 different gods. One wasn't even my spirit guide or Patron God. Zeus just felt like hanging out.

And though I say you will just know when the time is right many will still just take that leap even when they are not ready. When it comes to deities you need to be cautious and actually ready for it. Don't just jump in because it sounds fun and you want them now. If you are uncertain about things in regards to them simply ask for help. I have built a community for exactly that.

Everyone needs help from time to time, even me. Do not be scared to ask for help because it's better you ask then things going wrong. I am always open for you to ask questions about the craft. I am always willing to help. If I do not know the answer I will however find it for you and the information will be trustworthy unlike the internet most of the time.

Witchcraft is exciting. I know. Yes it's a lot of fun. But please, you know yourself better than you think. Do your shadow work, meditate, learn your history and if you need help seek it out. 

That's all I have for today so until next time stay witchy! Blessed Be.

✩ Don't Steal Other Peoples Work ✩

Written:

June 28, 2020

By:

Reine Alicis

#magick #herbalism #hellenic gods #witchy aesthetic #oracle reading #healing energy #positive energy #hellenic community #candlemagic #candle #kemetic #norse gods #egyptian gods #celtic gods #Welsh gods #pagan gods #deities #partons #spirit guides

[butmakeitgayblog]

“ I hope you like the new chapter “?? You kidding right

Cuzzz believe me dude.. we will read it with PLeasUrE! I mean come on Demon!lexa???

God i’m so excited, and I’m excited more that you said it will be a LONG chapter! Awesome.

Anyway i’m waiting the pain and pleasure in this story that i lovvee.

Ps : you promised us for 😆sneak peek 😆just a reminder don’t say I didn’t remember 🏃🏻‍♀️

Oh yeah you're totally right. And yeah it's now over 11k and I still have probably at least, at 👏 the 👏 least 👏, another 6k to go. But I'm betting more like 8k. Heyo ok anyway, happy last day of pride! Cheers to us queers 🍾🥂🏳️‍🌈

Snippet for chapter 8 demon au, forgive mistakes it's unedited and might change a bit between now and posting

Also go give love to sassymajesty it's her birthday today

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

"Oh my God."

"You're very bad, Ms. Griffin."

She could only whine in agreement. 

"Look at you. You're not supposed to be enjoying this this much."

Clarke clenched down at the loud slap to her ass. She hissed at the sting of it, rocking her hips on the silicon that pumped into her from behind. 

Hands gripped at her waist and pulled her back into each rapid jog of hips, the clap of skin on skin ringing in her ears. Forehead pressed to the cool plastic of an industrial copier, she groaned and shook when the punishing rhythm quieted enough for her to breathe as sharp snaps of the strap slowed to deep, rolling thrusts. 

Clarke arched at the feel of a hand smoothing up her spine to wind into the sweat sodden hair clinging to her neck. At a gentle tug, Clarke moaned and let herself be guided up, using the palms of her hands to support the weight of a warm body draping against her.

"Still good?"

Half delirious with a laugh and wiggling to get back the friction she had lost, Clarke felt herself dripping at the warm breath in her ear. "Mhm. Just fuck me, Lex."

"I think you mean 'Ms. D'Angelo," Lexa whispered, nipping at the fleshy skin of her lobe. "Remember, now. We keep things professional at the office..."

Clarke smiled to herself, biting her lip as she envisioned herself being pushed face-down back onto the copier. She checked her watch and glanced at the door, tapping her foot alongside the whirs of its rhythmic back and forth blinding neon light.

She thought of exactly how good Lexa's ass looked bound in buckles and strips of leather. How the harness they'd gotten the week prior sat in just the right way that it accentuated the lovely bubble-esque quality that made it all the more kissable. 

Or biteable. 

It really just depended on her mood. 

A few solid raps sounded through the door as Clarke leaned back on the table beside the copier, a satisfied grin stretching across her face as she chirped a bright, 'Come in.'

The door opened and then slammed shut in a flurry of motion as a wild wave of chestnut slungshot into the room. Clarke let out a surprised yelp of laughter as the small space was crossed in two giant strides and hands cupped her face, pulling her into a messy kiss. 

Lexa's groan was loud enough that Clarke worried for a moment that someone might hear. But the thought fell away just as quickly when fingers trailed to Clarke's hips, squeezing tightly and lifting her onto the table. 

Clarke wrapped her legs around the waist that pressed into her, thanking last night's self for selecting such a forgiving dress.

"You… are driving... me crazy," Lexa breathed between kisses, pulling away just often enough to let fresh oxygen into Clarke's lungs. "What are you doing in here?"

"Making copies," Clarke smartly shrugged as dark eyes glistened in the low light. 

"I am with a client," Lexa said with a needy sigh, resting her head against Clarke's as her hands mindlessly caressed thighs, hips, and chest. "A client and his father."

Clarke burst out in a poorly stiffled laugh. "Oh shit. My bad."

"Fuck, gorgeous," Lexa breathed, pulling Clarke's hips to the edge of the table and rocking onto her. "You are so bad."

A low moan rumbled through Clarke's chest as the words sparked fresh visions of her deviant daydream. 

"What?" Lexa asked with dark eyes and an excited hum. 

"Just something I was thinking about before," Clarke said, brushing a few curls from Lexa's face before letting her arms rest over her shoulders. 

"And what were you thinking about?"

"You."

"Well that's certainly a relief," Lexa smirked as she peppered kisses across the dip of Clarke's chest. "It'd be awful for my ego if you were in here making me wet while thinking about someone else."

Clarke just grinned, sifting her fingers through the fine hairs that sat on the nape of Lexa's neck. "I thought that might get your attention."

"What has gotten into you today?"

"Boring day. Kept looking at those pictures you sent the other week. Wanted to kiss... Wanted to see you in this shirt again. Take your pick," Clarke said as she pulled Lexa back onto her lips. She swallowed Lexa's sigh and licked into her mouth only to have Lexa twist away with a wet pop. 

"I have a client sitting in my office waiting to sign a contract."

"I can be quick."

"I don't want quick," Lexa shook her head as she grabbed Clarke's wandering hand that had been snaking its way under the belt of her skirt. "Let me finish this and we can take lunch right after. Go back to my place--"

"You have court at 1," Clarke sighed, deflating on the spot on the table. 

"Fuck." Lexa hissed the curse as her eyes screwed moment for a minute, biting her lips as they popped back open a second later. Her breath picked up as she looked hungrily over the expanse of Clarke's body, hands squeezing once more at the swell of Clarke's thighs. "Okay… Okay. Come with me."

"What?" Clarke asked as Lexa took her hand and quite literally dragged her off the table. 

Lexa leaned around her and grabbed a fresh pen from a box at random before tugging them toward the door. "Come with me to my office. We can pick this up when they leave. I'll just say I need a witness for the signing or something."

Clarke frowned as Lexa dropped her hand and flung the door open. "Uh. But you don't."

"Well they don't know that," Lexa whispered as she waved for Clarke to keep up with her pace toward her office. 

"You're serious?"

"Yes. You stand there and look… God," Lexa swallowed as they pulled to a stop just outside her office door, eyes dipping down to the hint of cleavage that peeked out of Clarke's dress, "just like that. And then you conveniently remind me I have court in ten minutes so I can get them the hell out."

Before Clarke put up any sort of protest, Lexa turned the knob and glided back into her office with a flourish. 

"Here we go," she announced, holding up the new pen in one hand and ushering Clarke inside by the small of her back with the other. "This is Ms. Griffin, a legal secretary here in the office and she'll be helping us today."

"I just wanna get this over with."

"Don't we all," Lexa sighed with a strained smile as she walked around her desk, leaving Clarke to stand awkwardly in the center of the room. "Now, you just sign these, and then Ms. Griffin and I will handle the rest. Sound good?"

A grunt was Lexa's only answer as she handed the pen over and pushed the stack of papers under his nose, Clarke reigning in a grin at the roll of her eyes. But still, Clarke waited patiently, hands idly picking at the hem of her blazer as she took in the pair sat in front of her. 

A boy no older than possibly 17 sat hunched over and small to her left. Sandy hair buzzed in a high and tight cut and clothes starched to within an inch of their life, he looked as though he'd be more at home in a military school than in the confines of their humble law office. He didn't move, barely breathed through the scratching sound of his father's writing as Clarke watched him all but sink through the seat of his chair. 

"You better thank your lucky stars this lady is willing to do this for you."

The low growl of words had Clarke frowning, shifting her eyes to the older man scribbling furiously through the stack of papers. His shoulders flexed with each rough flip of a page, his muscular body broad and tall enough Clarke wondered if he'd fit through the door without ducking. 

"The pleasure's all mine," Lexa waved him off when the boy tipped his head lower and stayed quiet. "He's a good kid. Just at the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Well that's the fuckin' problem, now isn't it," the man snapped as his head swiveled around to stare at his son.

And Clarke's stomach bottomed out at the sight.

The man from the street. 

The temperature of the air inched upward as Clarke's eyes shot to Lexa, only to find her already looking back. A pleased smile played at her lips as a perfectly trimmed brow flicked upward. Clarke worked to control her breathing, jaw locked and hands balling full of the hem of her blazer as she tried to parcel out exactly what the hell Lexa was up to. 

She knew Lexa always had her reasonings for doing what she did. 

Always had a plan.

But fuck all if Clarke hadn't realized she was going to be a part of it. A damn courtesy heads up would've been nice. 

"-- which is exactly the problem with you, boy," the man kept going through Clarke's silent freakout. "You don't get it. You can't seem to get a single thing through that thick, useless lump you use a goddamn hat rack."

And with no warning, he reached out a hand and slapped the boy over the back of his head. 

"Mr. Trikru."

Lexa's voice echoed through the office, sharp and simmering with a quiet rage as they cut off his tirade. 

Clarke halted in place from where she'd taken a few stumbling steps forward, dropping her hands that'd whipped forward as though to forcefully pull him away from the child who'd barely flinched at the blow.

Lexa's hand was steady as she plucked her phone from its base. "Finish signing the papers. Now." Her tone left no room for argument, eye dark and glued to the man who threw a final glare at his son and went back to writing. 

A moment passed as Lexa murmured softly into her phone, holding up a finger when the last page was flipped and the pen tossed aside, before hanging up and folding her hands expectantly on her desk top. Clarke felt her chest rise and fall with a kind of confused and indignant rage because seriously what the hell was Lexa playing at?

Clarke nearly jumped at the tiny knock against the door, whirling around to see Raven's head pop through the opening. 

"We all done in here?" Raven asked, her mask of professionalism firmly in place. 

"Yes, we are. But I need to speak to Mr. Trikru for a moment alone," Lexa said with an easy smile, up and around the edge of her desk in just a few fluid steps. "Why don't you take this young man to the break room. Get him a snack or something."

Lexa all but yanked the kid up by his arm, ignoring how he tried to glance back at his father as she shuffled him toward the door. She coo'd a few pleasantries and assurances that it'd just take a moment, telling him to go crazy as she shoved a small fold of ones into Raven's hand and passed him off to her. 

Clarke took a measured step back when the hulking man rose from his seat as Lexa shut the door and flipped the lock. 

"What the hell are you doin'?" he thundered and crossed the office. 

He stopped short when Lexa turned on her heel, eyes black and lips stretched in that increasingly familiar sinister smile. 

"Teaching you some manners."

The sickly crack of her knuckles against his jaw made Clarke's stomach roll. She watched in stunned, horrified silence as Lexa punched him hard enough to send him reeling back. His knees buckled and he hit the ground with a dazed shake of his head. 

A fist wrapped in the collar of his shirt before glassy eyes could stop rolling in his head. Another punch split his lip. Another caused his head to whip painfully sideways. 

Lexa yanked him up by his shirt, slamming him into the wall beside the door. A growl vibrated through the thick air as her fingers wrapped around his neck and squeezed. 

"Lexa," Clarke exhaled, her entire body shaking so badly she wasn't sure if she could walk. 

But then she watched the hand clamped over his airway flex and lift him upward. His feet kicked uselessly and his eyes bulged from their sockets, his hands grasping and scrabbling at the locked arm holding him up.

Clarke's mind jumped into gear as his face became redder, his gasping more sporadic, his movements turning jerky and less desperate. She lurched forward, staring at the side of Lexa's face.

"Lex, let him go."

The growling only deepened. 

"Lexa, let go of him," she snapped, raising her chin when black eyes turned to her with a snarl. 

She licked her lips and steadied her breathing and said the exact first thing that popped into her head.

"You hate cleaning up messes at work."

The growling stuttered as Lexa's eyebrows furrowed together, her head tilting in obvious confusion. 

"You told me you hate cleaning up messes at the office," Clarke rushed out, grabbing onto the one thing that Lexa had ever really complained about and riding the thought process to hell and back. "If you kill him right now, think about what you're going to have to deal with. There's gonna be an upset kid. Everyone's gonna freak out. Ambulances, witness statements. A literal dead body in your goddamn office. Think about it."

Lexa stared at her for a long moment, her jaw ticking in annoyance though, thankfully, the growling had stopped. And then without pause, Lexa loosened her hold and let him drop.

He crumpled to the floor in front of them, hacking coughs racking his body and his hands moved to massage his neck. Lexa squatted down, elbows resting on her knees as she leaned into his face.

"I think you should thank your lucky stars this lady was willing to do this for you, Mr. Trikru," Lexa spat in a harsh whisper. "But make no mistake... I will be seeing you again."

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

#anon #demon!lexa

[knightsimp]

Recovery (1/2)

Pairing: Percival Graves x Reader

Summery: You knew something was off. You knew that was not Percival.

Genre: Angst (the fluff will be in Part 2!)

Word Count: 2400+

Date Posted: February 1, 2021

Note: I haven’t written in a while! I finally have a new muse lmao.

Part Two: Link

MACUSA, also known as the Magical Congress of the United States of America, is the magical government in America. This is also where our dear protagonist works and spends a lot of her time. 

(Y/N) (L/N) is a MACUSA auror. She has worked there for years now. She started out as a simple intern when she graduated from Illvermony, and is now a seasoned auror. 

For the last couple months, (Y/N) has been out of the country in London, working with The Ministry of Magic on a joint case. She was only supposed to be gone for a couple weeks, but being an auror was not exactly a predictable job. When she came back to New York, she did not go home directly, not before seeing Percival.

She and Percival had known each other since she was a trainee and he was an intern. At first, she was ahead in rankings, but he soon climbed to the top and became Director of Magical Security and head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Regardless of her jealousy (though she may deny that she was ever jealous), they have always been good friends. They were made for each other. Inside jokes, casual and last-minute meet-ups; they were in sync from the beginning. 

(Y/N) giddily knocked on the door of Percival’s office before slowly opening it.

“Hey Percy!” Her voice had a tune to it. “Guess who’s back?” When she looked at him, he saw someone who was very tired. He was hunched over at his desk, a hand on his hairline. 

“(L/N).” He was monotone.

“Oh, wow. I feel missed! Stand up, you fool; let me give you a hug.” With a sigh, Percival stood and allowed for her to walk into his arms. She held him tight, her arms locking behind his back. 

Nothing was wrong at first, but (Y/N) realized how loosely he held her. Sure Percival is not a hugger, but when he was affectionate, the man was affectionate. That was not super concerning, but what did set off alarms in her head was when Percival took a big sniff of her hair. She was expecting him to ask if she even went home, seeing as she wheeled in her suitcase, or for him to ask her why she was gone so long, as she was not allowed to send any letters or anything and he probably found out from another official. 

But nothing.

He was asking nothing.

Maybe he was stressed? She did know about the whole Grindelwald situation and how much that has been weighing on Percival, considering his position in MACUSA. 

“Are you okay, Percy?” She asked as she pulled away. She chose her words carefully. “You seem tired.” She intentionally avoided calling him “off.”

“I’m okay.” He answered. However, (Y/N) found something odd. He had no tell. 

Not many people realized, but Percival Graves did indeed have a tell. He knew to hide this tell with work related stuff, but it seemed to come out in a casual environment. This tell was him smoothing out his slicked-back hair with his dominant hand.

She knew he was lying. And he had no tell.

This was not Percival Graves.

The realization caught (Y/N) off guard, but as an experienced auror, she knew how to keep a straight face. She knew not to let her smile turn fake. 

“Alright! If you ever need any help, you know where to find me.” She put some distance between them with the excuse of grabbing her suitcase. This was another thing that convinced her that this was not her friend; he did not offer to help or walk her out. Percival may be stoic and cold but he was a gentleman to a fault. 

When she exited and closed the door to his office, she could not help but let a shiver run down her spine. If this was not Percival, then who was he?

Her first stop was Seraphina Picquery’s office. Maybe she will know something? Hopefully, seeing as Seraphina works so closely with Percival, she would have noticed the differences in his behavior.  

(Y/N) was more professional when knocking on Seraphina’s door. 

“Enter!” She walked in once she had permission. Seraphina was sitting at her desk. Surprisingly, she was not in some sort of meeting at the moment. “Ms. (L/N)! I trust your return to the states was pleasant.”

“Yes, um, Madame President-”

“You haven’t gone home yet?” Seraphina Stood from her chair and came to the front of her desk. “Surely you would want to take a few days off.”

“Madame President, please listen to me.” Seraphina motioned for (Y/N) to speak what is on her mind. “Have you noticed anything strange with Mr. Graves while I was gone?”

“(L/N), if you are wondering if he missed you considering how long you’ve been gone, I am sure-” (Y/N) cut her off.

“That is not my concern, Madame President.” She stopped for a moment. “I just came from Percival’s office, ma’am. Something is not right. Something feels off; he feels off.” Seraphina cocked an eyebrow.

“How so?” (Y/N) thought about the evidence she had, suddenly feeling a little dumb.

“For one, I can tell you for sure he did not miss me. He did not ask any of the questions that one would expect, he did not hug me the way he usually does - he sniffed my hair very strangely - and he did not offer to walk me out.” Seraphina rolled her eyes. “Does that not seem odd to you?”

“I think you just may be a little upset that he did not give you the reaction to your return that you wanted and you are tired.”

“But-”

“Go home, (Y/N).” (Y/N) went to speak again, but stopped, realizing how futile her attempts would be. “Yes, Madame President.” Rolling her suitcase behind her, she left disappointed.

When (Y/N) returned home, she could not stay in the shower long enough for her to fully relax. She could not get Percival off of her mind. She could not rest, even after three months of working. Something told her another job was calling her name and the auror part of her was going to investigate. While in her bathrobe and wet hair, she pinned up a photo of her and Percival. They looked at each other and at the camera in the moving photo and it made (Y/N) smile. It also made her more determined to find out what was going on. 

“Alright.” She muttered to herself. Time to get to work.

Over the next month, (Y/N) had slowly added to her wall. She had been sneakily keeping tabs on Percival, seeing where he went, who he met with, where he ate; she tried her best. Of course, there were holes in the narrative she was putting together as she had to continue doing her job as auror. She needed to keep her job, but also needed to keep Percival from being suspicious, especially since he was technically her boss. One thing she often beat herself up for was being so friendly with him from the minute she walked into his office after her trip. She had to keep that facade up, which meant the occasional hug, calling him by his nickname, etc. Each time, she felt sick.

(Y/N) even went to each lunch with him every Monday. His reaction to coming to his office for lunch on Monday something she paid attention to. This imposter went along with it, as if lunch with (Y/N) every Monday was the norm, but it was not. Before she left for London, they had been having lunch on Wednesday for years; Monday was never a day that they met up for a meal. Of course, (Y/N) never expected Percival to come to her apartment on Fridays. Fridays, they would have dinner together. Each week, they would rotate on who’s apartment. When he never showed up for dinner the Friday following her return, she knew this was not Percival. And it was a relief when he did not turn up to her apartment. 

Of course, she had her doubts during her investigation. At points, she thought she was crazy. She tried to make up excuses as to Percival’s sudden change in personality and routine. That man was a man of discipline, however; he is not the person one would expect to break from their routine.

At one point the stress had become too much. (Y/N) ended up inviting her friend Queenie to her apartment during an empty Friday. Queenie, being the sweetheart she is, was sworn to secrecy, though she did not believe what (Y/N) was giving her. If her sister Tina found out, (Y/N) would be reported for insubordination. Still, Queenie tried her best to support her friend.

Things took a turn with Newt Scamander coming to New York. She had met Newt once before, seeing as she worked with his older brother Theseus while she was in the states. Chaos reached his peak with his beasts on the loose, the anti-magic sentiment, and the random civilian attacks which definitely had a magical origin. 

She was there when Newt and Tina trapped Percival, making him fall to his knees. (Y/N) almost cried seeing her friend in such a position, but she felt the blood drain from her face when his dark hair turned white and his eyes changed hue. She never suspected that he was Grindelwald. 

In the silence of everyone’s awe, (Y/N) pushed through the aurors. 

Limping on her injured leg, she approached him, ignoring the immense pain coming from her thigh. She kicked him hard in the jaw, making him fall on his back. Those around her gasped, surprised by her reaction. “I knew it,” she mumbled before shouting, “I knew it!” She put her foot on his chest, tears finally running down her face, her teeth gritting. “Where is he? Where is he!” The cocky smile Grindelwald gave her as an answer made her blood boil. 

“(Y/N).” Tina pulled her back as (Y/N) struggled in her grasp. “(Y/N), he’ll get what he deserves! Please-” (Y/N) broke free, only glaring daggers at Tina before walking towards the president. 

“(Y/N)-” Seraphina nervously tried to call her name. 

“Forgive me for being blunt, Madame President, but I told you. I told he was not Percival.” (Y/N)’s heels clacked on the concrete floor of the destroyed subway before she apparated away to her apartment. She could not even make it to the bed before she fell to her knees and began to sob. She tried to stop the hiccups and whimpers with her hand, but gave up very quickly. 

Where is he? Where is Percy? Where is Percival Graves? A dreadful thought came to her. What if he’s dead? This only made the sobs louder. She rested her head against the corridor wall. She did not even bother to turn on any lights or light any candles.

She stayed there even when the sun set. She was too tired, too drained, (and not to mention injured) to get up and change or eat. She found out what was wrong with Percival, which is what she wanted, but she almost wished she did not know.

She heard a whooshing behind her. Someone had appeared in her apartment. 

“(Y/N)?” Queenie’s soft voice was heard. “Sweetie?”

“Queenie, go make something for her to eat.” Tina was also here, it seemed. “I’ll get her cleaned up.” Tina stood in front of (Y/N), kneeling down. “Come on.”She struggled to stand her up. Not only was (Y/N) not willing to stand, but her leg was also injured. Once Tina was able to stand her up, she was ready to take on (Y/N) weight. As soon as they were stable, a pathetic, exhausted sob escaped (Y/N). 

“Come on, (Y/N). I’ll help you.” Tina almost flinched when (Y/N) looked up to meet her eyes. She looked so tired, so defeated, but there was enough determination to at least get to the bathroom.

In the kitchen, poor Queenie was feeling it all. Tina does her best to sympathize, but someone as empathetic as Queenie really did feel everything. Not only was she grieving Jacob, but she was now feeling (Y/N)’s immense grief of Percival. Queenie tried her best to stay somewhat positive while making (Y/N) a meal; sadness can be tasted in a meal.

Tina was able to get (Y/N) to shower and sat at the dining table. Her hair was still wet, but she definitely looked cleaner. Queenie did her part and convinced (Y/N) to eat. Eating did make (Y/N) feel a tad better; Queenie had always been an amazing cook. 

The air around them felt so still, so solemn, so exhausting. No one dared to say a word. 

“I...” (Y/N)’s voice broke the silence. “I think I want to go to sleep now.” 

“Alright.” Queenie’s voice was soft and gentle as if she was talking to a child, glancing at (Y/N)’s plate to make sure she had eaten enough. “Tina and I will clean up-”

“No, Queenie, I can’t let you do that. You’ve already done so much for me. You can go home.”

“We want to help, (Y/N).” Tina popped up. “You’ve been through a lot for the last couple of months.” (Y/N) did not have the energy to argue, but she gave a thankful smile. She delicately stood from the table and quietly went to her bedroom, her no-longer-heeled feet not making a sound on the wood floor. She did not have the energy to even dry her hair properly before falling onto her mattress. Once she was under the covers, she curled up into a ball and hugged the pillow which was usually beside the one she chose to lay her head on. No more sounds came out, but tears did soak the pillow she shoved her face into as she held on tighter. 

When she woke up the next morning, the mental exhaustion had taken over. Her lungs seemed airy and there was a grim atmosphere. Judging by the lack of direct sunlight coming from her bedroom window, it was the afternoon. When she sat up, her eyes went directly to the wall across from her where she had pinned up evidence.

Well, Percy is not going to find himself, now will he?

#percival graves x reader #percival graves #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fbawtft #fantastic beasts #x reader #reader insert #wizarding world #percival graves x you #percival graves/you #percival graves/reader

[jess-rewatches-prodigalson]

Ouroboros (S2, E8)

The hiatus almost killed me. So glad we have new content <3

As usual, my time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:04 - That scarf is so extra.

0:26 - OH LOOK THE FIRST SUNSHINE SIGHTING OF SEASON TWO!!! It only took 8 episodes. *insert eyeroll*

0:40 - Ugh. This montage makes me hate Hoxley. He embodies the type of human I abhor: self-important, egotistic, obsessed with appearance.

1:19 - “No I didn’t.” LMAO. Mr. David is so done with Martin’s bullshit.

1:36 - That makeshift shiv in the dude’s arm.....that’s Daryl’s shiv from a few episodes ago right? Am I going crazy?

 2:25 - Sooooo Birdie hasn’t left New York? She’s moved into the Milton’s “Murrayville Building”. Huh. Wait. Was Birdie in the house when Malcolm and Ainsley fought? Do you think she heard?!? Birdie might become a problem for the Whitly’s later this season....I hope?

2:43 - Jessica doesn’t know about the contents of the fight. Interesting. How long has it been since the end of 2x7? 

2:58 - “I’ll be there at 8.” hahaha OMG. I swear Malcolm was a terror during his ‘rebellious teenager’ phase.

3:38 - Yep. This fog horn reinforces the fact that I believe Hoxley is a dick. 

3:40 - Awww.... the way Malcolm jumps/flinches at the fog horn is both hilarious and adorable.

3:58 - “And who the hell are you?” YES GIL. YES. Don’t let him talk like that to Malcolm <3

4:04 - Duuuuude. Gil looks pissed and scared. He does not like Europol snooping around his crimes. ALSO I’m like 95% sure that Gil knows (or at least has a hunch) that Malcolm is somehow involved with Endicott’s murder. I’m pretty sure Gil is scared that this dude is going to try and arrest Malcolm. 

4:07 - OMG. JT is adorable. “You’re that guy. The mind sleuth.” Personal headcanon: JT read Hoxley’s book to try and understand Malcolm better. 

4:22 - DANI IS MY QUEEN. SHE IS MY ICON. I LOVE HER SO FREAKING MUCH. “No.” This girl is fierce. <3

4:23 - <3 <3 Malcolm’s heart eyes, head tilt, and visible pride is so so so precious. THIS is why he’s attracted to Dani. She’s not afraid to assert herself. 

4:31 - “And then took in his son.” ....Okay, so this infuriated me. Nothing Hoxley is saying is untrue. BUT something about the way he’s saying it just gets under my skin. 

4:45 - I think Hoxley is pissing me off so much because he’s psychoanalyzing Malcolm in front three of the people Malcolm trusts and loves most in the world (3 out of a very very short list of people). He’s trying to humiliate Malcolm and I hate it. I hate that Dani, JT, and Gil haven’t told Hoxley to shut up. I hate that Hoxley is trying to drive stakes of doubt into the three people whose opinion Malcolm treasures. 

5:25 - “Aim a little lower, Whitly.” and and and.....then Hoxley looks to the team as though he wants them to laugh. I’m furious. 

5:32 - THANK YOU GIL. STEER THE CONVERSATION AWAY FROM MALCOLM

6:04 - Malcolm is so obvious. There’s no way that the team doesn’t know that he was involved with Endicott’s murder. If they didn’t before this episode - they HAVE to know now. Right? They’re detectives. Malcolm is a terrible liar. 

7:00 - Oh. So now Ainsley cares about the crime. Now it’s “how much trouble are we in”. And let’s be real. Ainsley doesn’t even seem very worried or scared. She’s concerned that the crime will get out - she’s not sorry she committed the crime. She’s not sorry that her big brother tried to take the fall for her. 

7:15 - “We said no more secrets.” ...when. When did you two say that? Was there a ‘fight part 2 - the tentative truce’ that we didn’t get to see?

7:33 - A mention of Sophie Sanders. Finally. I still hope she comes out of the woodwork and takes the fall for this. I want more closure on her. Did the team ever find out that Malcolm found her? How did the Eddie murder finally get resolved (I’m not satisfied with the “not every case gets solved” line)?

7:42 - Yo. I don’t care about the time constraint of a 45 minute episode. I don’t care that it was required to move the plot along. The fact that Ainsley starts typing frantically into the computer at about 7:42, stops typing at 7:47ish and has found at least 4 different articles relating to murdered random people (who apparently helped hide Endicott’s body?) is SO UNREALISTIC. I just can’t. I can’t suspend my disbelief on this one. The article headlines say nothing about ‘couriers’. It’s stuff like ‘Local fisherman found dead’. HOW THE HELL WOULD AINSLEY KNOW THEY WERE HELPING MALCOLM IN LESS THAN 10 SECONDS OF GOOGLING?!? Nope. I can’t justify this one. Fedak - you dropped the ball.

8:40 - Poor Malcolm looks terrified. :( 

9:04 - My first impression of Natalie was that she’s a beautiful young lady who seems really sweet and a little socially awkward. Kudos to the actress.

9:41 - Another mention of Sophie. God - I hope she becomes a twist in this season’s storyline. I’m not content with how her story arc ended. 

10:21 - “I didn’t have anything to do with Endicott’s death and neither did Jessica.” Yep. Gil definitely knows (or at least suspects) that Ainsley and Malcolm are somehow involved with Endicott’s murder. It’s killing me that we’re not getting the big “team and/or Gil find out and/or confront Malcolm about it” moment. 

10:31 - OMG. Alan Cumming’s eyebrow wag here. hahahahaha

10:35 - Look at how pissed off Gil is as soon as Hoxley suggests that he and Jessica have a romantic history. 1) Gil still has it bad for Jessica (and is hurt that she rejected him again 2) Gil’s a pretty private dude and probably doesn’t like his personal business being speculated upon by a total stranger with ill intent 3) Gil is also getting protective of the Whitly’s. Not just Jessica but Malcolm (and maybe Ainsley) too. 

10:58 - Europol agents aren’t allowed to make arrests?!? THEN WTF IS THE POINT OF HOXLEY’S CHARACTER?!? TO DRIVE DOUBT INTO THE MINDS OF THE TEAM WITH REGARDS TO MALCOLM?!? FOR REAL. WHY?! TO FORCE GIL TO ARREST MALCOLM AND AINSLEY?!?!

11:08 - “To watch you put the cuffs on Mr.Endicott’s killer. Deal?” “Deal.” oooooooohhhhhh no. I do not like the foreshadowing here. If Gil has to arrest Ainsley and/or Malcolm.....idek. Part of me wants to watch it for the emotional whump (of all parties - including Jessica). Part of me wants to ugly cry at the thought of it though.

11:39 - “How do you know so much about yachts?” ....THANK YOU JT. DANI HAS A STRANGE AMOUNT OF NAVAL KNOWLEDGE IN THIS EPISODE AND WE ALL KNOW “I watch a lot of Below Deck” IS UTTER HORSE CRAP. Ugh. I want to know more about Dani and JT’s personal lives. So. Badly. 

11:44 - <3 <3 <3 The look Malcolm and JT exchange when Dani claims that she watches a lot of Below Deck is absolutely precious. It’s like they’re best friends and/or brothers. They both knew Dani was lying. <3

11:54 - “At least he’s the real deal.” Ouch. I honestly can’t tell if JT is just teasing Malcolm here or if JT genuinely believes this. ....Is this JT’s way to letting Malcolm know that he has suspicions about his involvement with Endicott’s death?

12:06 - “Says the guy who bought his book.” HA. Dani is on fire this episode. The snark queen. Look at how pleased Malcolm is that Dani is defending him. <3 Warms my cold dead heart.

12:09 - annnnndd now JT is definitely teasing Malcolm. “What our boy Bright needs is a moniker.” hahaha watching Dani and JT come up with stupid profiler monikers was so cute. I love it when the team gangs up to (lovingly) tease Malcolm.

12:30 - “No. Nothing yet.” Again - Malcolm is a terrible liar. The team must know that he’s involved with this thing. They’re detectives. 

12:59 - Martin’s physical reaction to Malcolm saying, “No. That woman does not deserve to die.” Is HILARIOUS. Martin is so freaking desperate for Malcolm to become a serial killer that he doesn’t even care the Ainsley has already murdered someone. 

13:19 - “He has a perfect track record.”.....what? So does that mean he’s solved every case he’s ever worked on? Taken credit for solving every case he’s ever work on? Hand picked the cases he works on so he knows he can solve them? Probably a combination of the above. Sometime about Hoxley reminds me of Gilderoy Lockhart from Harry Potter. You feel me?

13:23 - The fact that Tom Payne (a Brit) is being told that Hoxley has “perfect teeth. For a Brit” by a Welsh man is hilarious.

13:34 - Does this fish packing joint have no security?!? Like Malcolm didn’t have to pick a lock or anything. He just walked right in (and he’s not being quiet).

13:51 - “I can think ruthless. I don’t know if I can be ruthless.” THIS. THIS is Malcolm in a nutshell. Think about Nicky Covington. Malcolm wanted to act ruthless but he couldn’t. He ended up saving Nicky because he couldn’t go through with his ruthless plan. That’s the difference between Malcolm and (quite frankly) the rest of his family. Jessica, Martin, and Ainsley can all be ruthless. All of them. Jessica on a lesser degree but Martin and Ainsley are confidently ruthless. Often.

13:57 - Ok. For real though. HOW HAS NO ONE OVERHEARD THESE PHONE CALLS BETWEEN MARTIN AND MALCOLM. THE PHONES HAVE TO BE TAPPED RIGHT?!? IN A SECURE MENTAL INSTITUTION FOR MURDERERS?!? and I stg that Mr. David knows things. That man is not a moron and he’s pieced stuff together (not from this scene obviously, but still).

14:13. - “Why don’t I break out.” The fact that Malcolm hasn’t mentioned that Martin wants to escape to anyone (since 2x4) is really stressing me out. I know Martin’s going to break out - the promos have made that very obvious but I’m still anxious about it. Mostly I’m worried for the health and safety of Malcolm (and Gil, Jessica, Dani, JT, Edrisa...).

14:17 - “We all go on the run together.” Martin is delusional. He thinks that the whole family will go on the run with him?!?!?  He might be able to convince Ainsley. He might be able to blackmail or threaten Malcolm. BUT Jessica? She’s not going willingly. Hell - she might kill him herself if Martin escapes and tries to come near her (which.....I would actually kind of like to see).

14:48 - The fact that Malcolm apologizes to a corps is so precious. Really reinforces the fact that Malcolm is not a killer. 

15:00 - Oh look. Another scene for Malcolm’s nightmares. “The time I cut off a dead guy’s thumb to protect my sister”

15:24 - annnndd Malcolm is really close to having a panic attack. Look at that face. :( Someone give this guy a hug. Please.

15:34 - Where the HELL is Edrisa!?!?!?

15:42 - Malcolm, you utter moron. What possessed your stupid ass to show up at a crime scene with a soaking wet arm and draw attention to your arm by shaking it?!?! WHEN THE BODY WAS JUST DRAGGED OUT OF A VAT OF WATER. AND YOU TAMPERED WITH THE BODY?!!? YOU DUMBASS. 

15:52 - This is Gil - terrified. He’s scared because 1) he knows Malcolm is lying , 2) he’s concerned for Malcolm’s mental health and 3) he’s starting to think that either a) Malcolm killed this guy, b) Malcolm knows who killed this guy and is obstructing justice, or c) Hoxley is going to pin this on Malcolm and Gil won’t be able to save him.

16:14 - “I’m never buying frozen fish again.” hahaha Dani is killing it this episode. <3

16:23 - Check out how Gil is staring at Malcolm. Gil totally thinks Malcolm has the thumb.

16:50 - “Older model” Shit. Seriously? Are finger print scanners on phones old?!? My phone isn’t that old......I got it 6 years ago? 

17:16 - MALCOLM IS A TERRIBLE LIAR. Honestly, the pure terror on his face throughout most of this episode screams “I KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THE MURDER.” If the team hasn’t pieced this together yet they’re not worthy of being detectives.

17:29 - I’m not going to lie. I had to fast forward through the Martin/Capshaw scenes for the rewatch. I find them so upsetting to watch. I just can’t do it more than once. Their whole dynamic is gross, creepy, and just ugh. 

20:00 - Jessica and Hoxley talking about Endicott’s death is so satisfying. 

20:35 - “Jessica Whitly. Played for a fool. Yet. Again.” Ok Hoxley. You are not allowed to disrespect my girl Jessica like that. 

21:10 - The biggest problem with Jessica and Gil’s “mock interrogations” by Hoxley is that neither of them mention Ainsley or Malcolm. It’s super suspicious. They mention other people by name. People who should be connected to Ainsley and/or Malcolm given the context of the sentence. Hoxley is a moron for not nailing Ainsley and Malcolm for the crime during this episode. It’s so so so obvious.

21:19 - hahahahahahahaha Jessica grabbing the martini out of Hoxley’s hands. hahahahaha I stan.

21:35 - annnnnd Jessica is a terrible liar as well. Seriously - why doesn’t she just say “ENDICOTT WAS KILLED OVER HERE!!”. Another parallel between her and Malcolm though. Malcolm + Jessica can’t lie well. Ainsley + Martin are expert liars.

22:54 - Again. Ainsley is intrigued at the fact that Malcolm has a thumb in his freezer. Much like Martin would be if he knew. Jessica on the other hand shares Malcolm’s fear and disgust about the situation.

23:00- “We”?!!?!? AINSLEY YOU HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING. MALCOLM HAS BEEN COVERING FOR YOUR ASS. YOU JUST HAVEN’T TURNED YOURSELF IN AFTER YOU REMEMBERED. THAT’S YOUR ONLY CONTRIBUTION TO THE “KEEPING ENDICOTT’S MURDER A SECRET” SITUATION. 

23:07 - “Do you even see what you are doing to him.” This line both terrified and delighted me. On one hand - I’m grateful that Jessica can see how much emotional pain Malcolm is in because of this situation. One the other hand - Ainsley looks pissed that Jessica is blaming her for Malcolm’s general brokenness. If Ainsley goes full serial killer - Malcolm is going to be on her list. “The brother that overshadowed her.” “The favourite child” “The reason she had to be a perfect daughter” “The reason she was ignored”

23:32 - “Got it.” Damn. Ainsley is bitter. She wants to control this situation. She doesn’t like taking orders from Malcolm. 

25:00 - MR.DAVID IS RIGHT THERE. IF HE DOESN’T BLOW THE WHISTLE ON THIS I’M GOING TO BE SO DISAPPOINTED. 

25:12 -”The Brain Fart” hahahahaha OMG. 

25:53 - “You’re being rude Hoxley.” ......Martin being the nice guy? I’m genuinely disgusted.

26:26 - “Your son Malcolm.” THIS. THIS is why Ainsley is so pissed off. Everyone has always thought Malcolm would turn out like Martin. Ever since they were kids. She’s pissed off that no one considers her to be a threat. They’re all concerned for and scared of Malcolm. Not her. She’s invisible. Why do you think she became a TV reporter? To force people to see her. 

26:50 - I’ve never wanted to Martin to kill anyone more than I have in this moment. I do find Martin’s protective love for Malcolm interesting though. 

27:37 - How long was that phone in water before Malcolm grabbed it?!? Anyone ever drop a phone in water? I don’t care how much rice you have. It’s toast 90% of the time. 

27:44 - Malcolm explaining murder to Sunshine is so cute. 

28:22 - And my heart rate has skyrocketed. 

29:10 - “To protect your sister.” Huh. I find it interesting that Hoxley has considered that Malcolm may have killed Endicott to protect Ainsley. It suggests that he thinks Endicott was a threat to Ainsley alive. Makes me wonder about what happened to Ainsley before Malcolm got back to the house in 1x20.

29:16 - “You all had something to gain.” Did they though? Martin had something to gain - keeping his cushy Claremont cell. Ainsley had something to gain - “A news story.” Jessica had something to gain - “safety”. But Malcolm? He didn’t personally have anything to gain. He wanted his Mom and sister safe but he never thought about himself. 

30:11 - “Perhaps the murder weapon is still among your mother’s silver.” I find it interesting Hoxley has pieced that together. I also find it highly unbelievable but that’s just me. 

30:15 - Hoxely, rich people don’t carve their own Christmas roasts. The Whitly’s have staff for that. 

30:24 - “You’re still just a scared little boy. Hungry for daddy’s love.” Ouch. It’s true but it still hurts. This is not helping Malcolm’s mental state. At all. Istg if we don’t get a Malcolm mental health crisis soon I’m going to have my own mental health crisis. Seriously. I want to see this boy lose it. I’m a monster. I know. I want ugly crying. I want panic attacks. I want him to go catatonic. I want someone to comfort him. 

32:35 - Nat’s a good liar. Very convincing. Too bad Malcolm’s a good profiler. 

33:53 - Check out Spider Monkey Malcolm. <3 

34:14 - Earlier this episode when Malcolm said he can think ruthless but not be ruthless? This is the proof. He could’ve sat back and let Natalie kill Hoxley. In some ways - it would be good for Malcolm. But Malcolm’s not ruthless. He values human life. He’s an A+ dude. For better or for worse he tries to help people.

34:26 - Really Hoxley? Do you plan on stabbing Malcolm?!? (FYI - this scene is very reminiscent of Lockhart pulling his wand on Harry and Ron in the Chamber of Secrets #justsaying).

34:45 - “I’m going to be killed by a millennial. What a twist.” hahahhahahahahhaa

35:22 - “I’m British.” hahaha I love this scene so much.

37:14 - FINALLY THE PAPA!GIL CONTENT WE”VE BEEN WAITING FOR. (it’s weak but I’ll take it)

37:39 - AHHHH the fact that Gil and Malcolm are both non-verbally communicating that Natalie didn’t kill Endicott is killing me. Does Malcolm think that Gil hates him? Does Gil really think Malcolm killed Endicott? Or just that Malcolm covered it up? I NEED TO KNOW.

37:46 - Concerned!Gil and a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. <3 <3 <3 My icy heart has melted. 

37:54 - annnnnd Hoxley ruins the moment.

39:39 - I’m not content with this ending. It’s all too convenient. Hoxley still thinks Ainsley and Malcolm did it. Mark my words. This isn’t over.

39:53 - Ainsley is so smug here. I want to slap her. She’s elated that she’s getting away with murder. She doesn’t care about how it’s hurting her family. 

40:00 - Did they really do the interview inside Jessica’s house?!?! Gross. 

40:17- I might be the only one but I love that polo on Malcolm. Something about it is adorable. 

40:22 - ......is Ainsley really trying to take credit for “putting this Endicott mess behind us”?!?! Because - she didn’t. OMG. She absolutely didn’t. Even if she did - she’s the reason they’re in the mess to being with!!!!!!! I can’t. I just....can’t. 

40:45 - The episode ends right here for me. I know Capshaw and Martin kiss. It makes me want to hurl and I refuse to watch it again. I also know that Capshaw takes the scissors away from Martin. I think their whole dynamic is upsetting and creepy. I’m like 95% sure that Capshaw is a serial killer on the DL. Or at least some sort of psychopath. Martin and Capshaw are both manipulating each other and it’s too stressful to watch. 

I didn’t love this episode. It was a bit all over the place. If you stuck around this long - thank you. I’ll see you guys next week. <3

#jess-rewatches-prodigal #malcolm bright #prodigal son #gil arroyo #dani powell #JT Tarmel #ainsley whitly #martin whitly #edrisa tanaka #jessica whitly #I LOVE this show #whump #rewatch #spoliers #malcolm needs a hug #ps #so good #ouroboros #2x8 #2x08 #s2 #e8 #alan cummings #simon hoxley

[lifeofroos]

Part 48. I like Ariadne. 

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico takes a minute to talk to Dionysus’ wife, Ariadne. The rest of the story can be found on AO3, FanFiction.net and in Tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di Angelo, Fanfic etc. 

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 48: Rosemary Tea

I lit a small incense stick. The smell of pinewood filled my cabin. Just when I wanted to begin praying to get Ariadne’s attention, I already got it. One moment, I was in my cabin, the next I was on Olympus, looking out over a massive vineyard. 

‘Nico di Angelo.’

I turned around. ‘The lady of the house, I assume.’ 

‘Yes. You called on me?’

Barely. ‘Yes. I, well…’ I shrugged. I wasn’t entirely sure. I didn’t think I’d get this far. 

Ariadne put her chin up. ‘I can’t say I wasn’t expecting you one of these days. Why don’t we talk?’

I mean, that is what I had in mind. I nodded and she gestured that I could come into the palace. 

Dionysus’ palace was big. It took a good twenty minutes to walk to a sitting room on the other side. In the meantime, Ariadne chatted about the decor for a bit. It was clear she had been responsible for most of it (it was way too stylish to be done by Dionysus). 

We sat down in two comfy chairs, with a coffee table in between. Ariadne snapped her fingers. A pot of tea appeared. ‘Sorry for the long walk. The west flank of the palace is not under control by the headmaster, so I had to bring you there.’ 

Zeus. ‘Eh, I get it.’ So. Now that we sit and we’ve got tea, I was kind of curious about how you managed to live with Dionysus for thousands of years.

‘Lets get the obvious question of your mind: You are wondering how I managed to live with Dionysus for thousands of years.’ 

I nodded, a little perplexed, but mostly glad I did not have to open the conversation. 

She poured out two cups of tea and picked up her own. ‘I don’t read minds or anything, it’s just what they always ask. The short version is that he helped me when I was going through a hard time, the same way he is helping you now. The difference is that he somehow fell in love with me.’ She took a sip of her tea. ‘And, after some more time, which he gave me, I felt the same way. Got married, stayed together, end of story.’ She picked up her cup. ‘Yet, you probably already guessed that there was more.’ 

‘Well, Yes. I would say that the support he gives you goes further than with me. He once, kind of accidently, told me about the bond.’

She nodded. ‘Accidently? Oh well. Yet, yes, we have a bond. I’d say it connects us quite well.’

‘Quite, quite well, I’d say. For thousands of years.’ I picked up my own cup. ‘Hephaestus told me Dionysus treated him like a regular human… or god, whatever. Like he was more than a tool or a piece of garbage. That is basically how my therapy works. ’

Ariadne nodded. ‘We share that sentiment, you, me and Hephaestus, among others. We feel like we are worth something. Like someone does care about us. That is how it made me feel.’ She looked at the ceiling for a second. ‘Cared for, and like I was finally free to do and go where I wanted, gods! That means something after constantly being bound to something, either my chambers in the palace, or the island, or the men I was with. I still don’t know how I did confinment for twenty years.’ Her expression soured. ‘I do know why I went with Theseus. It meant... a change of scenary, at least.’ 

I sighed and slouched in the chair a little. ‘Ah, yes, sons of Poseidon.’ 

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Sons?’

I looked up. She didn’t know? ‘I thought Dionysus would have told you. Anyway, I was in love with one of those too, once. He just wasn’t a piece of garbage about it. Did not abandon me somewhere, at least, or bully me for it. He might have been a little confused, but, you know. I get that. He seems confused about most things, actually.’

She shifted. ‘It must have been Percy Jackson.’

I took a sip. ‘Yes. And, eh, sorry.’ Didn’t want to rub it in your face. I wanted to ask what she thought of Percy, but maybe that wasn’t…

‘I do not have anything against Perseus Jackson, if you were wondering about that.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘I think Dio has more problems with that than I do.’

‘I think you might just be right.’

She sighed. ‘Oh well. Yet, I did hear you were accepted like you are in camp, son of Poseidon as your first crush or not.’

‘I was! Camp overall is pretty accepting, actually, that is nice. They even learned to trust Hades kids. And idiots who fall in love with sons of Poseidon. It took a while, but they accept Annabeth now.’

She chuckled and pushed her hair out of the way. ‘So many more things are getting accepted these days, even amongst the gods. There is a shift in their behaviour. I don’t know what the trigger was, after thousands of years, but I am glad it is this way.’ She twisted a curl around a finger. ‘Sorry, entirely different subject, but how did your talk with the elder gods go?’

‘It was weird, but it went good enough. Over the last few days, I have heard less and less of the voices from Tartarus, and more and more from the voices of where the Elder Gods are.’

She smiled and nodded. ‘Luckily. You know, admitting the elder gods is a central part of becoming immortal. Because of previous lives, something, something, even the lord of the heavens is not really sure, I had to talk to them.’ She sighed. ‘Basically, part of me is also an older god, which meant that I was supposed to fill this role as a goddess right now.’ She rolled her eyes. I snickered. ‘I hardly understand what it means.’

I adjusted my jacket. ‘Still, that must be strange, though, to know that part of you is just…’ I waved my hands around. ‘Somewhere in superheaven.’

‘You get used to it.’

‘Still, it seems weird.’ 

‘To me, it seems weird that you visit the Underworld so often.’ She shuddered. ‘For me, it wasn’t a very good place. After I was killed, I was sent to Elysium. My father, king Minos, kept trying to control me and I missed Dio terribly. I would have chosen rebirth if Dionysus hadn’t taken me out of there.’ 

‘Oh yes, bringing people back to live, the thing he tells me is unhealthy to do.’

She gave me a mellow smile. ‘The difference is that he is immortal and you are not.’ 

Maybe. ‘Not yet. And I met king Minos, too. He was a nasty piece of work, sorry not sorry to say it. He tried to control me into his evil villian plans.’

‘I am not offended. He was a bad king, a bad husband to my mother and a bad father to his children.’

‘And a bad partner to raise the dead with.’

‘I am going to pretend I did not hear that.’

‘Thanks. Although my therapist is already aware of it.’ I took a sip. ‘Then we can both agree that he was a huge dirtwad.’

‘We quite certainly can. I still do not forgive him for marrying off my youngest sister to some old king who died not even a year later. She was then forced out of the palace to make room for the new king and queen, just so Minos could get the bridewealth payments.’

‘Oh yes, that is a very dirtwad thing to do.’ We both sighed.

Her expression grew dark. ‘I used to think my mother was better. She tried to protect her children, even Asterion. Yet, that was before she tried to take my labyrinth and use it against who I am. What she did a few years ago, raising it without my permission…’ she clutched her fist. ‘She had no business doing that and getting me wound up in it again. Before that, the labyrinth was a memory, safely far away from the human world. Now...’ She looked at her teacup. 

I nodded. ‘Eh… my sister was the one who handled Pasiphae in that encounter. I think she is gone, now…’

‘She isn’t, Nico, and she never will. She harnesses too much power to just be gone.’ 

I fell silent for a second. ‘I think I believe that,’ I whispered. 

‘I hope you do, but I also hope you don’t have to deal with her in your lifetime anymore.’

I was fifteen. On average, there was a lot of lifetime left to meet Pasiphae a second time. But I did not want to think of that right now.

‘If there is anything you take away from this, let it be that women in mythology, and not uncommonly men too, often fled, because the situation at home was chocking them.’ She had a flicker in her eyes, which suddenly left. She shook her head. ‘You probably don’t want to think of that right now. Say, have you ever tried this tea before?’

Now she was just trying to change the subject. I played along. ‘I recognise it. Rosemary?’

‘Yes! We grow it in the garden, actually, or better said, my garden. His garden is more or less... taken.’ She smiled again and looked out the window, at the vineyard that spread all around the castle. 

‘Guess that makes sense.’

‘I wouldn’t mind more flowers. But hey, I knew what I was getting myslef in to, back when I moved here.’ We kept looking out the window. I noticed a few panthers lazily roaming about. Ariadne didn’t even blink at seeing them. Just a regular day in Dionysus’ palace, apparently. 

‘I don’t know if I will tell Dionysus about this encounter.’

‘I think he already had a hunch it was going to happen, because I did. Bond and stuff.’ I nodded. ‘If you already told him you were in love with Percy… well, that is an easy link to me, I’d say.’

Maybe. Ariadne studied me, before she stood up. ‘If your finished, maybe you should get back. They might begin to miss you. 

I looked up at the clock and jumped up when I saw it was already past eight. Ariadne telling me the clocks were mad and did what they wanted did not calm me down. 

While we walked back to the mystic Zeus-free west flank, she said: ‘I am glad I could finally meet you. You seem like a nice, smart young man.’

‘Thanks. Eh, also, thanks for the talk and thanks for the tea. It was good tea.’

‘I’ll give you some. I am kind of proud of it, actually. It is one of the only teas that isn’t brewed by Demeter.’ 

A/N: My first draft of this felt clunky, it is better now. Still, I find it strange that it turned out the way it did. That Ariadne of all people is the goddess who keeps her distance for a bit, aside from the things she has in common with Nico.

As I said before: I need more Ariadne fanfiction I am being denied my RIGHTS the first hit when I google it is my own fanfic of two years ago and one chapter in Weezl’s drabble doc. 

Legit, Ariadne is the ‘mistress of the labyrinth.’ Don’t know how RR missed that. Be prepared because this fact WILL come back in a later chapter. 

#Nico di angelo #ariadne #percy jackson #pjo #trials of apollo #tower of nero #writing #writeblr #writer #fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo fanfiction #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson and the olympians fanfic #percy jackson fanfiction #percy jackson and the olympians fanfiction #fanfiction #ariadne pjo #dionysus #dionysus pjo #hurt/comfort #therapy #hazel levesque #pasiphae #minos #hoo #heroes of olympus

[ladyanput]

Adrien salt- the whole class are having a seminar on sexual harrassment where Chat Noir is being used as an example of a predator. Being in the role of perfect sunshine child he can't speak up or complain so he has to listen to how horrible his behavior has been. After the seminar is over the whole class is criticizing Chat with Marinette bringing up the Syren incident. Everyone goes crazy and Adrien realizes how his behavior truly is.

Adrien smiled as he settled in his seat in the amphitheatre, giving a smile to Nino as his best friend took a seat beside him, Alya and Marinette soon joining the pair.

"I don't really see why this is a required seminar." Alya spoke up, giving a shrug as she settled in her seat beside Nino, not to subtly making Marinette sit on the other side of Adrien. "Sexual harrassment is a pretty easy thing to spot. I don't support that kind of thing, it's nasty."

"Yeah, it's not really nice that people do that to others." Marinette whispered, trying not to turn beet red when Adrien's arm brushed against hers.

"Oh, did you guys see my latest post last night? Isn't this picture of LadyNoir to die for?" Alya grinned as she showed them a picture she had taken of yesterday's akuma attack. It was of Chat holding Ladybug in a passionate embrace as he tried to kiss her after the akuma had been purified and the victim had been taken home. The trio missed Marinette's scowled as they cooed over the photo of 'true love'. Adrien couldn't contain his grin.

Soon everyone was in their seats and a beautiful woman stepped up to the podium, smiling out at the crowd.

"Good morning, students of DuPont, it is lovely that you all are attending this important seminar. Things such as sexual harrassment are often dismissed or ignored, so I'm so proud of all of you for wanting to learn how to help and protect these victims who have suffered or may suffer such harrassment."

Adrien smiled and settled back in his chair, planning on fully investing himself in this seminar. He listened as the woman continued on with her introduction, then her explanations.

"Sexual harrassment has a rainbow of different scenarios. Some can be extreme, some can seem incredibly mild and not worth looking into. It's the latter one that I moreso want to focus on today, as those are the ones that are often dismissed. To keep things simple; sexual harrassment is when someone keeps touching you, when you clearly do not want to be touched. For example, you have a friend or a classmate who is constantly touching you, grabbing you, getting into your personal space despite you clearly being uncomfortable, pushing them away, or asking them to stop."

Adrien's mind instantly shot to Chloé and Lila, but quickly stomped that thought down, feeling a twinge of guilt in his gut. Chloé was his oldest friend, of course she would be all touchy feely with him, she'd always done it, he should be fine with it. And Lila... Lila never listened, but she didn't mean any harm, right?

Adrien ignored that niggling in the back of his head as he kept listening to the seminar, about how victims often brushed off the minor cases of sexual harrassment, saying it was no big deal, that they didn't mean it in that way, ect. The niggling just got worst as Chloé and Lila filled his brain.

"I'm going to give you guys a popular example of someone who commits sexual harrassment almost every time we see them in the media." The woman picked up a tiny remote and pressed a button, going to the next slide of her presentation.

A picture of Chat Noir was dead center of the slide. Everyone sat in dumbfounded silence, but as people began to speak to, the woman held up a hand.

"Please, I know he is a hero of Paris, but please, his victim shouldn't be ignored, his actions shouldn't be shrugged off just because of him being a hero. He may not realize he's even doing this, but this needs to be addressed." The woman stated, and oddly enough everyone quieted down, though Alya looked like she was ready to spit fire.

"Chat Noir isn't an extreme example, he doesn't go fondling his victim, he doesn't make sexual innuendos or push for sex from her. But his actions towards Ladybug are far from acceptable." The woman pulled up videos, playing a few of them. First was the day of the statue unveiling by the artist Théo. A reporter had gotten the conversation between Théo and Chat Noir after the ceremony, where Chat Noir claimed that he and Ladybug were dating after he figured out Théo had a thing for Ladybug.

"What...?" Marinette whispered softly in horror, not noticing the confused look Adrien sent her way.

"As you can all remember, Chat Noir had gone around telling everyone that he and Ladybug are dating, but what was Ladybug's response?" The woman smiled thinly, and then played more videos. The students watched interviews, news footage, ect, or the many occasions that Chat Noir had claimed that he and Ladybug were dating, soulmates, hopelessly in love; followed up by Ladybug stating that they weren't. They were just partners, that she was a professional, she wouldn't treat being a superhero so lightly. Each one was more frustrated than the last, as it was obvious that this was a running trend. Some students laughed at the final one, the one of Ladybug practically shouting it, while looking close to tears. Adrien hunched in his seat, feeling the shame reddening his face. Surely it wasn't that bad, right...?

"Oh yes, funny isn't it? Funny that a person's feelings are getting ignored, because everyone thinks it's all one big joke. Ignore the fact that she is obviously frustrated, angry, that her words aren't being taken as truth. It's all funny, because that's how people brush off sexual harrassment, they think it's all one big joke." The woman stated, though there was obviously more ice to her tone. "Everyone treats the heroes as if they were some characters in some weird cartoon. Ignore the feelings of both parties and just ship them for the sake of it. I even have footage of Ladybug saying she's already in love with someone else, but Chat Noir completely disregarding the statement.

"But besides the point, it is also bleeding into the akuma attacks. Chat Noir is often seen flirting or trying to steal kisses from Ladybug during the attacks. It's sad, really, because when those types of things aren't happening, they're a perfect team." The woman clicked her tongue. Adrien burrowed deeper into his seat as many, many, many videos were played. One Alya took note of was when the video of Gigantitan was played, the akuma being held back by Ladybug as it marched right towards the Tom & Sabine Boulangerie Patisserie. Everyone watched as Chat Noir stepped up beside her, flirting and trying to steal a kiss instead of helping the heroine, while the akuma completely destroyed the upper level of the bakery.

"That's Marinette's room!" Alya cried out in horror, jumping to her feet. The entire room turned to look at the reporter, as she, in turn, looked towards her friend. "Marinette, were you in your bedroom when that happened?!"

Marinette sat there, looking like a deer in headlights, obviously struggling for words. Many took that as the affirmative.

"I'll kill that cat, he let you get hurt!" Alya rags, her face going red. Adrien felt that guilt twisting his gut again, bringing with it the nausea. He had gotten Marinette hurt..? He... He hadn't thought he had done anything wrong, he was just flirting, Ladybug knew that. They were soulmates, meant for each other. He loved her.

But then why did he feel so rotten and vile?

The woman quickly calmed everything down. She went over more material, but Adrien couldn't hear, because he heard a roaring in his ears as he felt lightheaded. Had he really been hurting Ladybug that much? Was he a villain, just like Hawkmoth?

"Now before you all go and try to crucify Chat Noir, I want you all to remember something. He may not even be aware he's doing this. I'll be honest, this is sort of the reason I am making this seminar mandatory in every school in Paris. If he is a student, as I believe he and Ladybug are, I want to show him. He night still just be a child, unaware of what he's doing. No one truly learns their mistakes unless those mistakes are pointed out and explained to them. Someone can either learn their mistakes and try and become better, or completely disregard the mistakes and criticisms and refuse to change."

The woman smiled, and gave a slight shake of her head.

"And I think Chat Noir would be willing to change. He is a good person, and I'm sure he'll be the best hero possible, if he's willing to learn his lesson."

And with that, she continued onto other examples, though none made quite an impact. Once the seminar was over, Adrien left it feeling as if he had been scraped raw. He knew that he had some apologizing to do.

That night, as he went out for patrol, he quickly caught sight of Ladybug making her way over Paris. He quickly joined her, meeting her on top of the Eiffel Tower.

Ladybug was silent, arms crossed as she stared out at Paris, her jaw set in a hard line.

"Chat-" She began, but was quickly cut off.

"I'm sorry." Chat's voice was raw, shaky. It sounded so broken that Ladybug turned to him, eyes wide

"What..?"

"I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you so uncomfortable, that I made you feel so helpless, so ridiculed." He couldn't stop the tears that welled up in his eyes as guilt washed over him. "I never meant to hurt you, Ladybug, I swear. I just.. I thought.."

He broke off and put his face on his hands, his shoulders trembling. For the longest time, Ladybug didn't speak, but then she embraced him tightly, gently stroking his back.

"I know, kitty, I know. I... I forgive you." She admitted, hugging him tighter. "I guess I should have sat down with you, has a more serious talk, or.."

Chat Noir shook his head and stepped back, wiping his tears away, and gave her a roguish smile, though it seemed forced.

"No, my l- Ladybug, you're always perfect to me. And I'll try my hardest to be perfect to you." He vowed, setting a hand over his heart.

Ladybug smiled, and she visibly relaxed, as if a big weight had been taken off of her shoulders.

"Silly kitty... Come on, let's get on with out patrol." She grinned at him and then took off. With a soft laugh, Chat Noir followed his partner into the night, awaiting a new dawn.

Taglist:

@virgil-is-a-cutie @sidessunnybumblebee @persephonebutkore @18-fandoms-unite-08 @suzen23smith @luciferge @theelventhgod @noirdots @space--butterflies @ghostglaceon @magicalfirebird @goggles-mcgee @chocolate1721 @minightrose @bookcrazybby @cupcakeandkisses @mewwitch @vixen-uchiha @ravennightingaleandavatempus @2sunchild2 @crazylittlemunchkin @bee-wrecker @souleateralicestein @loysydark @kceedraws @realrandomposts @alienjoyful

#adrien salt #miraculous salt #ml salt

[itsuki-minamy]

“K SIDE: PURPLE 10”

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

K - Side: Purple (Chapter List)

"Now he's tense!"

When Soma entered the room, that voice rang out.

About 10 men flocked to a section of a large spacious room. It looked like the cushions were scattered around the threadbare tatami mats, and that it was just a play area. He didn't have an intermediate basin, and he wondered if it was okay to bet in the area where everything was happening simply with a swing.

"Okay, here we go!"

The men pile up a wad of bills before the day, as invited by the tantalizing voice. Some are scorched and some are bloody. It is "loot" brought from the "battlefield". It is the custom of their predecessors that they often brought money, although they did not have much space or time to spend. Members of the underworld are obsessed with money.

"The pieces are ready. The game. Niroku no Ding!"

When the two dice emerged from under the bowl, the men cheered and sighed. Soma looked at him coldly. Although it was a life that could not be known tomorrow, they were both silly and funny, as they could be happy and sad like the eyes of a rhinoceros.

When…

Soma noticed that one of them did not tremble.

Their synonyms for black suits have been removed to expose the upper body. The impressive Japanese carved tattoos on his back, however, were mostly covered in red-black burns.

"Purgatory" Sword No. 3, Hiiragi Toma.

Soma's target person.

While he was sitting with one knee upright, Hiiragi was rolling a saber onto his side. He must have been stolen from "Scepter 4" during the last conflict. Like a swordsman, even the people of "Purgatory", who have an image of evil, are keeping a distance.

After breathing for a bit, Soma stood next to Hiiragi.

"Are you not feeling well, Hiiragi?"

"……"

Hiiragi looked at Soma with only his eyes. Eyes like a light buried in ash. Soma accepted the pressure of the line of sight, which would be to pass out just by looking directly at an ordinary person, with a smile.

"I have something I want to ask you. You have a little time, right?"

"Let's do it later."

Hiiragi replied briefly. Soma looked at the tatami in front of Hiiragi and shrugged slightly.

"Oh, that's right. Well, I'll wait for you here."

He took the cigarette out of the pack and lit it with the "lighter" to the left of him. Soma vaguely eyed the entire gambling house, smoking purple smoke. It was like the air that swayed there. A kind of atmosphere that is natural for "Purgatory" to breathe.

That's it.

"The pieces are ready. The game."

The hand, swinging the bowl, tried to reveal the rhino's eyes.

A steel-colored saber crashed against the tatami.

"Eh, aaaaaaaaaaagh?!"

Along with the screams, the finger swinging the bowl, rolled. Fresh blood overflowed from the cross section, staining the tatami mats red and black. As he distorted his face in severe pain, he was still screaming in anger.

"Well what are you doing, Hiiragi?"

He shook the saber like a great snake and cut his hand in half, but Hiiragi's face didn't show any change. The holly was fluffy, with a dull top.

"Soma."

"Oh?"

"In our group, I did this for the madman."

Soma laughed as he smoked a cigarette.

This guy must have been a newcomer who had just entered "Purgatory." If he had met a human named Hiiragi even if he was a little bit, he would never have been able to imitate such behavior. Or maybe it could just be an accurate statement, maybe he just wanted to use it as an excuse to use violence

Well, it doesn't matter what it is. Soma tossed the cigarette to the ground and stomped on it with the toe of his shoe.

"It is not a game; do you think such an answer is valid just because you are an executive?"

Hiiragi didn't reply anything with a serious expression. As he gritted his teeth in anger, he stepped on the mat with his left foot. From the burns that cover that story, a flame of extraordinary skill coiled vigorously.

A red light flashed on Soma's left hand.

A high-pressure, high-temperature "whip" that stretches freely at his will. Squirming like a snake targeting his prey, the light shot through his left eye and leaped through the back of his head as it was.

The mutilated body, which lost its brain function, fell.

Hiiragi looked at Soma. That hand was still holding the saber.

"Don't do extra things."

Soma snorted like a fool.

"If you go crazy, it's hard to clean up afterwards. Wear that fine style only outside."

His ability is activated from the tattoo engraved on his back. His power as a combat afterburner was not used in such a room.

Hiiragi kept looking at Soma, but when he looked away as if he had lost interest, he stopped there.

"Clean it up."

"Yes."

Several members of the clan took control and began to clean the tatami mats, bundles and corpses surrounded by gushing blood. There is nothing to blame for the violence. Hiiragi is an executive, not because he is a newcomer to the place, but because Hiiragi is stronger.

There is nothing in "Purgatory" that can be called order. There is only one measure of strong or weak. Those who fought and survived are strong, and those who died are weak. And the weak and the dead are equally useless. That was the only reason the clan welcomed the "King of Violence".

"So, what?"

At Hiiragi's question, Soma finally remembered his business.

"Oh, yeah. Where is the other one who was with you now?"

"......"

"Baraki...?"

Hiiragi frowned. The guy should have been attached to Hiiragi's subordinates, but he doesn't seem to remember him.

Soma was shocked and explained in a way that Hiiragi could understand.

"Look, he came in a few months ago, "right hand" and..."

"Oh, that boy."

Humans who have received the installation of the "Red King" will surely destroy a part of his body with vicious energy as if reflecting the nature of Kagutsu. In Soma it was the little finger of the left hand, in Hiiragi's case it was the back and in Baraki's case it was the right hand.

The damaged part also serves as a means to activate different abilities. Sometimes it is quicker to say what he lost than to remember his face.

Hiiragi shook his head slightly.

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while."

"That's right. My subordinate."

"I don't remember who lived and who died."

In "Purgatory", the death of a member of the clan is a daily event. Some die in battle with "Scepter 4", while others die in the inner circle of clan members, like the guy above. It seems that the martial arts group does not intend to remind the staff to be replaced to metabolize.

"He's either dead or trapped. It's not a weird story."

"Well, that's correct. I'm sure I haven't seen any other guys, and I'm sure they're gone."

"What's wrong with that guy?"

Looking back at Hiiragi's emotionless eyes, Soma shrugged.

"I got information to make money, but it seems they didn't tell me everything. So I thought I'd listen to you."

In this case, it would be more accurate to say "listen to the body" rather than "listen to the story." Hiiragi is also a person who originally belonged to an antisocial organization. So the story was fast.

"So he flew. Do you want to chase him?"

Not many members of the clan escape from "Purgatory". Originally, all who enter are daredevils who have no place in this world. There they can burn your life.

It is a group of lost people who do not know about the life and death of the moment, but there are exceptions to everything.

"I am sorry..."

Soma put his hand on his chin and pondered. From his own information from the registry, the question is whether traitors and fugitives can be left alone. "Purgatory" is not oscillating.

First of all, Kagutsu himself, who is the "King", must make him wonder if he doesn't believe that he belongs to the organization.

"So if you see him, you take a suitable frame."

"I understood."

Hiiragi laughed slightly. In fact, it is an order to kill. For Hiiragi, who has fallen from an antisocial organization to "Purgatory", the only thing that can burn his life is the exchange of lives with others.

As he held the saber, Hiiragi walked calmly. Seeing his back, Soma lit a cigarette again and inhaled purple smoke.

++++++++++

As he walked down the back alley so as not to expose himself, Noriya Baraki looked back many times.

There were no other figures than Baraki among the buildings where he rained heavily. Still, he couldn't shake the illusion that someone was chasing him, and he walked quickly with his shoulders hunched.

The dirty clothes that he was wearing, he took off a homeless person with bad luck, and although he smelled strong, he could not do otherwise. The black suit is synonymous with "Purgatory", he cannot wear such a thing forever.

He is no longer a member of "Purgatory".

Baraki belonged to "Purgatory" for the same reason that he joined the Ashima group. He thought it was a gathering of strong people. This is because there is one side that can exploit the weak as they please. So he gave Soma most of the information about the "assets" that he knew about and asked him to put them in the "Burning House". Even if he lost his right hand, he thought that, if he was a proof of a strong man, it would be like losing his little finger.

But…

Baraki realized that he was wrong.

"Purgatory" is not a group of strong men. It was a group of abnormal people.

The violence they wielded at will sometimes robbed the members themselves. Those facing the sword were killed. Those who fear were killed. And the unfortunate one was killed. Kagutsu Genji. That monster called "King" caused death and destruction just by being there. Literally, in "Purgatory", everyday life was next to death.

It is not an environment that can be tolerated by a decent nervous owner. Either they will die early or they will run away. And it's just one of them on a sunny day.

Baraki looked back again.

"Scepter 4" is not the only enemy of "Purgatory". Many anti-social organizations that establish conflicts, almost at random, also see "Purgatory" as their enemy. Similarly, those who strayed from there tended to be attacked more fiercely because there was no reception from the organization.

That is why he must hurry. Get what he wants and fly somewhere far away.

North or south, anywhere, out of reach of those monsters, somewhere far away.

When Baraki turned around for the third time, he appeared in the alley.

"Hey, Baraki."

While he was wearing the black suit, he was laughing, or not. He looks like he was laughing. Burns that jump from the edge of his lips to his temples make his face look like a smile.

"I've been looking for you. Where are you going?"

When he took a step to start running, his foot stopped. One in a black suit with a saber in hand blocked the way. The hand without the saber was badly burned, leaving only two fingers.

They both had familiar faces. They were under Hiiragi's orders.

The one with his "fingers" gasped.

"Hiiragi-san is looking for you."

The one with the burned "lips", he said.

"Which is better, being alive or charred? I'll let you choose according to the kindness of your former colleague."

Baraki put his right hand to his chest.

His heart was pounding hard like a bell and his usual face was bleeding. There was no escape because he was surrounded from the front and the back.

That means this alley, where he completely rains, has become his death.

From the moment he ran away, he had a feeling this would happen.

"Purgatory", "Scepter 4", Kagutsu Genji, Habari Jin. From the moment he got involved in the war of monsters that manipulated different abilities like burning dust, it was confirmed that his fate would be like this.

But still, he didn't want to die. He wanted to live.

Just that feeling propelled Baraki out of the swamp of despair. Baraki may have been small, but they weren't stupid enough to think they could live without doing anything.

If you want to live, you have to fight. It is a lodging business that is also run by those born in this world.

A flame came out of Baraki's right hand.

Guren's palm, which is one size larger than that of humans. The only weapon Baraki possessed colored the alleys that smoked in the rain red.

"Ku."

"Lips" in the back he laughed, and "fingers" in front of him raised his burned hand in front of his face and muttered.

"Yes. You will be charred."

(That's what will happen to you!)

Instead of yelling, he spat, and Baraki kicked the ground and raised his fiery hand towards "fingers".

++++++++++

Under the eaves in front of the station, Hase waited with his bag.

He had been raining lightly since morning, but he didn't have an umbrella due to Hase's nature. As he practiced, Mishakuji suddenly remembered that he was waving a wooden sword while turning into a wet mouse, regardless of whether it was raining or snowing.

Hase noticed Yukari and smiled.

"Oh. You came, Yukari. It's early!"

As Yukari smiles, he tips his umbrella and walks over to Hase.

"Sensei. There are still 30 minutes until the meeting time."

He hears that the place they were heading to from now on, where Miwa Ichigen lives, was in the mountains, which took almost half a day from here. However, Hase's luggage was a bad backpack and there seemed to be no decent change of clothes. With a strange look, Hase also looked at the carrying bag dropped by Yukari with similar eyes.

However, there is only one thing the two people have in common.

Yukari has a sheath that hangs from his shoulder and Hase has a sheath that hangs from his back. To put it the other way around, if you have this, you don't need any other luggage.

"Did you say hello to Sayuri-san before you left?"

Hase wondered such a thing as they entered the station together. Yukari shook his head.

"No, it looks like she was drinking late last night, so I left without saying hello."

"Haha, that's right. Well, it's the beginning of her beloved son. Maybe we all wanted to celebrate."

"It doesn't mean I won't be back."

Hase slaps Yukari's wet back with his big palm.

"I know, I know! You are a man of your word, don't worry!"

Having said that, he laughed at his arrogance.

Dissatisfied Yukari's lips were sharp. Still, it wasn't as frustrating as It used to be. He can always go back to "Nibangai". He will always be able to find the people who live there. That is why Yukari was motivated to take a step into a larger world, as they expected.

He only knows Miwa Ichigen from Hase's story. He's not an eloquent person, but his sword skills were the most beautiful thing Yukari had ever seen in his life. Every time he thought of Miwa's sword, who made Hase say, "I've never seen anything more beautiful than that.", he was excited.

He wanted to see it as soon as possible and, if possible, he would like to make adjustments and acquire it. Driven by painful expectations, Yukari was encouraged and headed for the ticket vending machine.

A roar echoed from a distance.

"……"

A heavy and low sound, like the sound of the earth. Yukari stopped and turned to that side.

The moment he instinctively felt that "Nibangai" was in the right direction, he heard the second sound.

It was a continuous roar. The sound of something exploding and burning, like you heard in war movies. Perhaps Hase noticed that, he turned his face towards him with his dull expression.

The two jumped out of the station at the same time.

Black smoke billowed in the direction of "Nibangai" past the shops and multi-tenant buildings lined up in front of the station. When swallowed it, a red-black explosion broke out many times. At the sight of the rain, the reflection of the flames that stained the streets red was reflected in Yukari's eyes like something terrible.

"Hey, Yukari! Wait!"

Hase's voice came from behind and, for the first time, Mishakuji realized that he was running.

Still, his legs didn't stop. He dropped the bag that was obstructive, and just grabbed the wooden sword that he had taken out of the sheath, Yukari ran in a straight line. Heading for his hometown, "Nibangai" surrounded by smoke and flames.

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