#confessions of a teenage mortal

[sterling-writes]

Episode One: Haven

Chapter Two

Summary: Xander finds himself in the company of an unexpected guest: the king of the Underworld. However, something seems different about the king, and Xander suspects that there may be a larger mystery at hand. It's up to him to get to the bottom of it, but the king is one tough nut to crack.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2000

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Random visits aren't uncommon. There are deals to make, favors to fulfill, timelines to correct…

But, to Xander, something doesn't add up. Why would the king of Hell hide in the shadows like some horror movie? In his house, no less.

He scans through the darkness to assess the room.

There's little light for him to work with. All the lights are off—the only illumination being a full-length mirror hanging on the far wall, reflecting the light from the hallway behind him.

An oversized couch sits empty in the center of the space, bookended by wide armchairs, also unoccupied. A long coffee table stretches across the floor to reach each seat, topped with a few drink coasters and remotes.

Two glass-doored bookcases, lined with streaky white paint, stand against the room's left wall. They sandwich an elaborate yet disorganized entertainment center. Cords and wires snake over and under, stringing from the large TV to various consoles and outlets.

A couple of side tables hold up pieces of art under framed paintings and family photos, which lead to a decently sized piano in the far right corner. Next to it sits a piano bench—empty.

It's all untouched. Nothing missing, nothing broken. No signs of struggle or commotion. 

As far as he knows, they're alone.

The figure in the corner finally breaks the silence with a low voice. "I was beginning to think you'd gone to bed."

With one last glance over his shoulder, Xander cautiously steps into the room. "Nope… Just getting settled in."

The room falls dead quiet again, somewhere between tense and awkward.

Xander drops his gaze and furrows his brow. Is he missing something? Is there some deal that he forgot about and messed up somehow? What's with the silent treatment?

Pondering his thoughts with his eyes on the floor, he notices a mark on the carpet. He trails his gaze along the floor and realizes he's following a path of dirty footsteps from the front door to where the king stands in muddy boots.

"...Out for a stroll?" Xander tries, taking another step closer.

"Not exactly." The king responds, shrinking further into himself, still facing away from Xander.

Why is everyone in this damn family so stubborn?

"Then to what do I owe the pleasure?" Xander asks, his exhaustion catching up with him. He glances at his watch. "The eleven-o'clock-at-night pleasure?"

Another unsettling beat of silence passes.

He huffs. "Will you please just tell me what's going—"

"She won't get away with this." The king finally hisses.

"...Who?"

"That sad excuse for a goddess." He lets out a dark chuckle. 

I guess these two are at it again. "What did Hela do?"

"She made a fatal mistake," the king says with a growl. "One that I will make sure she regrets in good time."

Xander lets out a sustained sigh, looking at the ceiling. Why now? Why tonight?

"I swear, when I get back, I'll make that Asgardian scum— "

"Is that all?" Xander snaps.

He feels a twinge of guilt as it leaves his mouth. He'd rather not have to talk that way, especially not to family. But he'd also rather not go in circles all night.

The king's voice grows aggravated. "You think I have nothing better to do than chat with the likes of you? Of course that's not all."

"Then get to the point, Beauregard. It's late, and I—"

"I had nowhere else to go."

The room stands still. The king's voice is quieter now, softer and almost weak. Any heat from his rage turns cold as his shoulders shrink further.

It then dawns on Xander: is Beauregard… smaller?

At first, he attributed it to Beauregard's posture, but the longer Xander stares, he becomes more sure.

Something is different. Beauregard has changed.

"Beau…"

The king stiffens.

"Turn around." Xander leans forward, squinting through the darkness to better gauge what exactly happened to Beauregard. Though he can't see much, he notices that Beauregard is trembling—with anger? Fear? With what?

With a newfound swell of protective instinct, Xander drops all sense of caution. He reaches to the wall and flicks on the light switch.

The king winces at the sudden brightness, shielding his eyes and turning more into the corner.

Xander doesn't have time to be gentle. He's in 'father' mode now. And something is wrong.  

"Beauregard, what happened?" He asks more sternly.

No response.

Closing the gap in the room between the two, Xander reaches for the king's shoulder to spin him around. "I can't help you unless—"

Then Xander sees his face.

Not only is Beauregard nearly a foot shorter than the last time they met, but he's also completely changed.

His double sets of twisted towering horns have shrunk into two short singular horns, no longer than that of a goat's.

The wrinkles by his eyes and the lines on his forehead are now entirely absent, leaving behind smooth and soft pale skin. He doesn't even have stubble anymore.

His long black hair, which used to look more like Xander's, is shorter now—an inch or two above his shoulders.

There's no denying it: he looks younger.

Now, he looks just like—

"Oh, Beau…"

Turning away his head, Beauregard wipes at an angry tear. He winces as his hand brushes against a deep bruise under the corner of his eye.

Gods, when I find out who hurt him— Xander shuts his eyes and sets his rage aside. With a deep breath, he drags Beauregard into his long arms, firm and secure. "It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Beauregard stands in the embrace stiffly, then very slightly sinks into Xander.

After a moment, he huffs. "Unhand me, Talaros."

Giving Beauregard one last tight squeeze, Xander lets him go and kneels down to meet his eye level. "Look at me."

With a stubborn sniffle, Beauregard glares at him through his tears.

"We're going to figure this out, alright? I'm going to help you." He lays his large hands on Beauregard's shoulders. "We'll get you home."

Beauregard eyes Xander, then gives him a nod.

Standing back up to his full height, Xander exhales. "But first, you'll have to tell me what happened."

If the very past-due bedtime wasn't enough to make Xander ready to fall asleep where he sits, then watching Beauregard's continuous pacing certainly is. His heavy eyes follow the pair of muddy boots as they march anxiously.

From one side of the living room to the other. Back and forth.

Over and over.

And over…

"Are you even listening?"

Beauregard's sudden snap makes Xander shake off a sleepy nod. "Of course, yes. I'm listening." Xander sighs as he's met with a glare. "I am listening." He adjusts so he's sitting more at attention. "So let me make sure I've got it right—

You were going about your day, overseeing your kingdom, when Hela's goons suddenly showed up and escorted you to her side of the Underworld, and she…?"

"And she threw me out!" Beauregard explodes, beginning to pace again. "Ridiculous! She can raise the dead all she likes, but that doesn't give her any right to banish me.

With a yawn, Xander sits back into the cushions.

Beauregard growls. "She doesn't have what it takes to be a real ruler. To deal with even half the things I must see to."

Xander props his head on his fist, leaning on the arm of the couch as Beauregard continues his rant.

"That witless woman. Doesn't she know I have deals to collect on? Orders to give? Souls to claim? Disasters to quell?!"

Xander watches with an absent nod.

"She's no more than a mere Asgardian exile. Thinking she can test me… the gall. "

Glancing at the time again, Xander sighs. "So she de-ages you… Then what?"

"She…" Beauregard groans and gestures with his hands. "...blocked my magic, somehow. She managed to expel me from the land of the dead and dumped me—" He wrinkles his nose. "Here."

Xander raises an eyebrow. "And you have no idea why?"

Beauregard huffs out a laugh. "Perhaps she thought she could humiliate me." He shakes his head. "Just wait until I return. She'll learn the true meaning of humiliation."

"I meant, do you know why she would do any of this?"

Crossing his arms, Beauregard forms an incredulous grin. "Why wouldn't she? With me out of the way, she can claim what is rightfully mine! She can rule the entire Underworld, unchallenged!" He laughs. "Or so she thinks. When I get back, I'll show her a real challenge—"

"Alright, alright." Xander stretches his hand out. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. What about Oliver? Is he able to—"

Beauregard stomps to a halt. “No.”

"Why not?"

"Don't," he says in a haunted hiss.

Sheesh. I guess they're still not on great terms, either.

"Okay, then… What happens when you try to go back?"

"Hah!" Beauregard spins to face him. "And how am I supposed to attempt that when I don't have my magic?" He sneers, pointing a boot at Xander. "Why do you think I had to traipse about your filthy world to find you?" 

Xander shoots him a warning look. "Beauregard, I am just trying to help you. If you want to undo being turned into a teenager, then stop acting like one. "

Beauregard's mouth drops open. "How DARE you speak to the KING—"

"That's enough!" Xander presses himself to his feet. "You're no king here. And if you'd like to be a king at all, then—"

"I will not take orders from the likes of—"

"Do you want my help or not?!" Xander bellows.

Beauregard sucks in a breath to retaliate when he's interrupted by the sound of a door closing.

Both of them fall silent and snap their heads towards the foyer.

They can hear keys jingling and rattling as they're set down next to the front door. A pair of shoes clack once each as they're removed and placed on a shoe rack.

Xander meets Beauregard's eyes, who gives him an annoyed shrug.

He pats Beauregard's shoulder as he passes to see who's there.

He heads for the foyer and pauses in the doorway, catching the sight of a tiny woman.

"Clarice?"

With a small squeak, she turns to face Xander and whispers with a bright grin. "Hey."

Xander returns the smile, albeit less enthused, as he glances back over his shoulder. "Hey—you're home early." He strides forward and pulls on the back of Clarice's coat, slipping it off her shoulders.

She steps out of the coat to reveal a short dress made of aqua blue velvet. One of the thin straps slips to the side of her shoulder as she reaches to hang her coat on the rack.

"What are you doing here?" Xander asks, taking the coat from her and placing it on the hook with ease.

"Oh, we decided to call it," Clarice says, sliding the fallen strap back to its proper place. "Kat had to go; it sounded serious. We all felt weird hanging out at her party without her, so we decided to head back."

"What's going on?"

"Some drama with her father, I guess." She runs her hands along the skirt of her dress to straighten out some folds and wrinkles. "You know how that goes."

Loki… Xander nods to himself. That adds up.

"But it's good to see you." Clarice steps up to him, reaching up high to pull him down and kiss him.

Xander kisses her back and moves a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "It's good to see you too. Listen, we need to talk—"

"Oh! Hold on, that reminds me." She pats his cheek and bends down to look through her bag on the floor. "I got you a little…." She trails off, scanning her gaze along the muddy trail on the carpet.

"Yeah, about that…." Xander sighs.

Clarice looks up at him.

With a shrug, he steps to the side to let her peer into the living room.

Beauregard offers a small, unenthused wave.

"Oh."

"Yeah." Xander places a hand on her shoulder and sends a wave back to Beauregard. "Like I said, we need to talk."

#confessions of a teenage mortal #oc fic #episode one #chapter two #sterling-writes #my stuff #oc #my writing #marvel #rp fic #teen mortal #confessions

[texaschainsawmascara]

Megan Fox, ‘09

#megan fox #jennifer’s body #jennifer's body #jennifer check #transformers #mikaela banes #confessions of a teenage drama queen #carla santini #passion play #jonah hex #tmnt #april o'neil #april o’neil #mortal kombat #nitara #till death #night teeth #expend4bles #gif #2000s

[qdbs-writes]

How do you think the Cullens would act around a disinterested crush? Maybe they're fated but reader isn't having it lol

(I love your twilight writing btw thank God someone is still doing it 🤤🤤)

ah it has been many moons since I've gotten a twilight request yay!

Cullen Clan Reacting To Their Crush Being Disinterested In Them

Carlisle Cullen

Being alive for just over 400 years tends to give one a good perspective on life and the bigger picture, and Carlisle sure has a pretty good idea of how all things pan out. So you're not interested in him? That's fine, Carlisle can wait for as long as you need to change your mind.

In the meantime, Carlisle will continue to maintain your friendship and continue to show just how hard he's worked to become the kind caring father figure he is. He knows you'll fall for him, eventually.

Esme Cullen

Obviously, she's not going to stop caring about you just because you don't return her feelings. But she might switch up how she shows her affection.

Rather than flirty winks and suspiciously candle-lit wine tastings, she'll back up to more traditionally motherly affections. Making sure you're eating right, baking cookies, etc. And of course, giving you homemade soup when you're sick is still one of her favourite things to do, no need to stop now.

Edward Cullen

Of course, you're not interested, how could anyone love a monster like him? Who did he think he was, thinking he was worthy of your love? Or so his inner monologue goes.

But it's really not that dramatic, it almost never is, Edward just sprung his crush on you suddenly and it caught you off guard. It was largely the excessively long preamble about how he was an irredeemable murderer that put you off first, but of course, he won't realise that until considerably later.

Rosalie Hale

She's a little relieved actually. All her mortal and immortal life, Rosalie has been aggressively pursued by people she wasn't particularly interested in, so the fact that she can crush on someone who isn't really that interested is a wonderful change of pace.

For the first time ever, Rosalie has butterflies in her stomach, she fumbles with her words when she speaks to you, and she feels like a silly, mortal teenage girl again, begging her mother to let her go to the dance just so she can sneak away to catch a glimpse of someone just like you.

Emmett Cullen

You and Emmett had been good friends for a while so when he casually drops a blissful "We should get married" into the conversation, you initially choke on your drink in laughter.

Emmett's a little heartbroken that you'd laugh at something like that, considering that he was being 100% serious. But since you've known him, the both of you have been constantly cracking up jokes, trying to get on each other's nerves, so no wonder you thought this was another one of his pranks. He decides to take this reaction as a blessing, you have no idea he's actually into you, now he knows he has to work out a different way to confess his feelings for you.

Alice Cullen

She's a little confused obviously, having multiple visions of the two of you in a romantic relationship kind of gave her the impression that it might've been going to come true, but your disinterest says something else altogether.

But the worst part is that those damn visions of you and her together keep coming back, taunting her, luring her in deeper to despair with the thoughts of what might be. It's all getting so intense, so she decides to skip town for a bit, see if that changes anything, or at least helps her clear her head.

Jasper Hale

Oh well, so you're not interested in a romantic relationship, so what? Doesn't mean you can't still be friends. Doesn't mean he can't be the charming Southern gentleman he is. Doesn't mean he can't still pull out chairs or open doors for you. Or send anonymous bouquets to your house. Or leave your favourite snacks in your locker when you're having a rough day. Of course not.

It doesn't mean he can't worry about other people who might want to date you. Doesn't mean he can't scare off people who'd be bad for you. I mean, what else are friends for?

#twilight saga #twilight saga headcanons #twilight saga imagine #twilight saga x reader #carlisle cullen #carlisle cullen x reader #esme cullen #esme cullen x reader #edward cullen #edward cullen x reader #rosalie hale #rosalie hale x reader #emmett cullen #emmett cullen x reader #alice cullen #alice cullen x reader #jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #qdbs writes #cullen clan #cullen clan x reader

[rorysbrainrot]

Headcanons for Mattheo Riddle

• Mattheo would have alright grades, not good nor bad, but when he really starts to enjoy a class that he actually goes to, he’ll automatically become one of the best students.

• Physical touch is absolutely his love language due to not getting it as a kid, he also does a lot of gift giving.

• Heavy smoker, often stressed because of his father always putting pressure on him.

• He doesn’t like Harry Potter, just cause the way he grew up around deatheaters, but not like mortal enemies with him or anything, just bullying when he feels like it.

• He rarely gets crushes, but when he does he will very quickly act on it.

• Slytherin Beater.

• I think that he would always try his best to please his mother. (Bellatrix) y’know?

• He usually crushes on Hufflepuffs, since he thinks they’re cute.

• Buys random unnecessary shit, just for fun.

• Actually does get into a lot of fights, if he sees you look at his friends, him or partner wrong he’ll fight you.

• Loves dogs sm.

• Wears converse religiously.

• Doesn’t talk about his family much.

• He had to get the dark mark when he was quite young. Like around 11 or 12 to prove his loyalty to his dad.

• Favorite dessert is ice-cream, chooses it over everything.

• Sucker for American accents. (Any region.)

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

Mattheo Riddle as a boyfriend

• Calls his partner love, princess/prince. When he gets whiny or needy he’ll let the occasional babe or honey slip out.

• After dating for a month or two or whenever he gets attached he’ll randomly show up to your dorm with a bunch of his clothes, sweatshirts, t-shirts etc’.

• Gets needy when he’s away from you to long. (Literally just like an hour.)

•Horny 24/7. I mean he’s a teenage boy.

• Once he gets attached will wait a little bit to be reasonable, but will mentally confess his love for you.

• Won’t let anyone talk bad about you.

• Runs warm, so if you ever try to get away from him while cuddling he will whine/complain about it for the next day.

• Will buy you anything you want.

• Needs to know where you are 24/7.

• If you join any not required classes, he’ll join them as well just to have more time with you.

• The sweetest boy. (When he wants to be, he’s also incredibly sassy.)

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

His Red Flags 🚩

• Will manipulate you to get you to stay with him.

• Doesn’t like it when you talk to other boys (or girls) that he doesn’t know.

• A literal death eater.

• Absolutely crazy.

• Gets into fights tons.

•Alcoholic.

• Would not let you leave him, not even for a break.

• Bipolar along with a bunch of other mental issues, he also refuses to take medicine for.

• Loves you sm, but sometimes doesn’t always show it.

• There’s a lot more, he is just a walking red flag ngl.

——————x——————x——————x——————x——————x

-First headcanons i’ve done. How did I do? Let me know if you want headcanons for anyone else! :)-

#Mattheo Riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #Slyrherin boys #red flags #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x you #i love him sm #hogwarts x reader #hes so pretty #harry potter #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #slytherpuff #slytherin boys

[aezuria]

*ੈ✎ everybody talks!

"it started with a whisper, and that was when i kissed her!" —neon trees

note: fun fact this was supposed to be titled friends by chase atlantic but then i started going for a cliche hs romance vibe cause i went and listened to a 90s playlist um ANYWAYS @hopelesslyromanticshark HEYYY TWIN SURPRISE MAYBE?? IT WAS ME ALL ALONG 😈😈 ps this doubles as my apology for the pronunciation confusion FORGET I EVER STARTED THAT

content: leo valdez x reader, childhood best friends to lovers, mortal au; oneshot, 4.3k words

warnings: jealousy, little bit of angst (typical teenage drama 🙄), like one mention of not wanting to live, cursing, google translated spanish, lots of pov switches (my bad 😓), vague spoilers for the ballad of songbirds and snakes (like two lines abt it), clumsy confessions, denial (is it really denial if you just suck at feelings??)

"that was supposed to be my ice cream!" you marched up to a curly-headed boy, face scrunched up in childish anger. your parents were too busy catching up with friends to notice that you had strayed off.

said curly-headed boy turned to the sound of a shrill voice, his eyes meeting a pouty face with cheeks red in the summer heat. he raised the cone in his hand a bit higher. "this one?"

you nodded eagerly, hoping he was going to give it to you. "yeah!" you stretched out your hand to grab it from him, but the boy pulled it away at the last second.

he smiled mischievously, dimples flashing as he stuck his tongue out and licked a stripe up the stacked swirls of ice cream. "too bad!"

you gasped at the utter audacity of the other child, your bottom lip starting to tremble. one sniffle. two. soon, you were downright bawling on the sidewalk. the boy’s jaw dropped, his feet taking panicked little steps in place as he looked around.

"hey! hey, you can't cry! i'll ask my mama to buy you one!" he squeaked, trying to comfort you. he patted your back, which was quite hard to do with him bouncing around and holding an ice cream cone.

your sobs were quickly reduced into a sniffle as you blinked at him. "..really? and you're not gonna steal it this time?"

he nodded enthusiastically. "yep! i mean, no! i won't steal it!" he took your hand and ran to his mom, dragging you along.

you ran behind him, your tears replaced with excitement at the newly promised ice cream.

"mama!" the boy called out, stopping in front of a kind-looking woman who looked just like him. "meet my new friend!"

you smiled a bit shyly at the lady, giving her a wave.

she returned the gesture with a smile of her own, before facing the boy with a slight frown. "leo! sus padres podrían estar buscándola! did you ask her parents if she was allowed to go with you?" she chided, pinching his ear lightly.

leo cried out as his mother pinched his ear, even though he barely felt it. "no..! but le debo un helado!" he whined, shaking your interlocked hands for effect. "can you buy her one mama? pleaseee?"

she sighed in defeat, giving into two pairs of puppy eyes. "alright, alright. but we find her parents first, okay? what's your name?" she gave you a little wink, taking your other hand.

"i'm y/n!" you said with a bright smile as she agreed to get you a new ice cream. "my mommy and daddy are over there!" you pointed to a spot not too far from where you stood.

leo's mom nodded, leading your little trio in the direction you said. soon enough, you were reunited with your parents, who gave you a gentle scolding and thanked her. she explained the situation between you and leo, at which all the parents laughed at, much to your confusion. what was so funny about getting your (well, not exactly yours but you had your eyes on it, so, it was technically yours) ice cream stolen?

whatever, at least you got it at the end of the day—and a new friend!

ever since then, the two of you stuck together like glue. if elementary school teachers tried to separate you? either of you would throw a hissy fit. if your high school teachers tried to separate you? either of you would make up some elaborate bullshit about how well you guys work together and how productive the two of you would be (you were sure they never believed it, but they paired up the both of you anyway).

"like i know she probably didn’t get enough love as a child or something but does she have to take it out on her students? why even be a teacher?” you waved your hand in the air, the mess of papers on the desk long forgotten.

"exactly, like she really needs therapy." leo took his bite-ridden pencil out of his mouth to add a point.

"totally,” you agreed. “too bad it’s so expensive, otherwise-“

a cough behind you made you and leo turn around, already dreading the punishment about to befall you. you smile sheepishly at your history teacher, who had her arms crossed. "another word and i'll send you two to detention, you hear?"

the both of you shut your mouths and nodded in sync, waiting until she turned around to whisper. "she's feeling merciful today."

"detention!"

guess not.

you slumped against the desk, resting your head against your arms and sighed loudly. the teacher in charge of detention for the day gave you a glare, turning the page to his boring book about finance or something. you rolled your eyes once he looked away, and looked up at the clock. five more minutes.

you tapped a message on the desk, the morse code leo forced you to learn coming in handy once again. i'm so bored.

leo's head perked up from the similar slouch he was in. me too.

i'm coming over. you rapped your finger against the smooth wood. you were hungry just thinking about him and his mom's tacos. if you didn't know how much leo wanted to be a mechanic, you'd probably beg him to open a restaurant.

a little forward aren't you? he drummed his fingers back, raising his eyebrow.

just as you were about to reply, you were cut off with a "shh!" from the teacher, who then looked at his watch. he gave it a scowl, but motioned for the two of you to leave. "you're free to go."

the two of you raced to the door, eager to get out of the stuffy classroom.

"oh my gosh i thought he was never gonna let us leave!" you groaned, tugging on your backpack straps as you walked home with leo.

"i know! can't believe he wasted our precious hanging out time like that!" leo scoffed, nudging you with his shoulder.

you laughed, shoving him back. "exactly!"

the two of you walked in peaceful silence, up until leo tapped you on the shoulder and shouted, "tag, you're it!" and ran off ahead.

who runs with a backpack on? you didn't care, chasing after him and trying to get him. "not fair!" you yelled.

sprinting all the way, you made it to his house, panting and out of breath. as he leaned against the doorway, you smacked him upside the head. "you're it."

you didn't want to spend your friday afternoon doing extra work, but leo wanted the help and who were you to deny him? you knew it'd probably end up with the two of you on the couch, curled up next to each other and watching a (usually) pirated movie.

"so," leo started. you two were sprawled on your stomachs, doing homework on his wooden floor.

"what is it now?" you exhaled with exaggeration, not looking up from your book. your english teacher had said to read two chapters, but was that really enough? you were too invested, completely forgetting that you were supposed to help him analyze it.

"..wanna take a break?" he was already getting to his feet, looking down at you with a cheeky glint in his eyes.

you pretended to think. "hm, i don't know... shakespeare's getting really interesting..." you shrugged and turned back to your book.

leo pouted. "seriously!? he just spews random bullshit and everyone thinks its poetic!"

you kicked his foot, not letting the insult slide. "you know what? now i'm really not gonna take a break."

"oh come on! if i make you birria tacos will you come with me? my mom's been simmering the meat since earlier," he bargained, waggling his eyebrows.

"..maybe."

"holy shit." you moaned in bliss as you took a bite of one of the tacos leo had so kindly prepared. he chuckled at your reaction, it was the same every time he made it.

he grinned proudly, taking his plate from the coffee table and setting it on his lap. "good, right?" he switched on the tv, resting his other arm on the back of the couch.

you let out an unintelligible noise of agreement, mouth stuffed. you swallowed. "can we watch the new hunger games movie?"

he hummed, taking out his laptop and searching for it on some illegal website. "again? we already watched it in the theaters."

you rolled your eyes. "yes, again. it's my turn to pick."

his lips quirked up the slightest. "yeah, yeah." he clicked on the movie, connected his laptop to the tv and pressed play.

the two of you were watching intently as coriolanus snow kissed lucy gray like a starved man.

"goddamn," you breathed out.

"i know." leo nodded, his eyes flicking to you for a moment. your legs were folded under the blanket you guys shared. during the duration of the movie, the two of you had somehow huddled closer together, probably due to the cold, he thought. his arm was now over your shoulder, your knees touching his.

he felt something stir in his heart. maybe it was the kissing scene, maybe it was the underlying feeling of sadness that came with winter, but god did he suddenly get overwhelmed with the feeling of wanting a girlfriend. he'd probably flirt with every girl in the world if it meant he could find true love. he suddenly felt hyper-aware of the way you were nestled in his arms, of the casual way you two touched each other. leo would love to do these things in a romantic sense. but, not with you, of course. i mean, you were his bestest friend, it'd be weird to think otherwise.

your heart fluttered wildly as you played it cool, not letting the way his legs were intwined with yours affect you. you didn't know exactly when you started feeling this way, all you knew was that something about his touch never failed to send you sparks of fire.

but fire burns.

you heard leo suck in a breath. "you know your friend alicia?"

you froze, the butterflies in your stomach turning into ash. "yeah, she's my friend, 'course i'd know her."

"great, so you wouldn't mind setting me up with her, right?" he winked at you, tugging at the ends of your hair.

you bit your tongue, mood dampening. why did he always have to ruin the moment by asking about some other girl? i mean, am i not enough or something? "..i'll think about it."

he frowned. usually you'd agree right away. "is that a yes?"

"i told you i'd think about it, now can we just watch?" you turned back to the tv, eyes looking but not seeing.

leo didn't seem to get the hint, still pushing the topic. "why think? it's not like you haven't done it before! are you really not gonna help your best friend out?"

"maybe i'm really not," you said sarcastically. it was getting more and more difficult to keep the irritation from your voice, and he was already starting to notice.

"whoa, okay, what're you so mad about?" he took his arm off your shoulder, turning to face you directly. "did i say something wrong?"

"nope."

he took your sardonic tone as your usual sarcasm and kept prodding. "okay... so you'll help me then? i mean, that's all you're for! you don't wanna be my best friend and do your job?" he laughed, poking fun at you like usual. but the feeling in your gut twisted his offhand comment in a way that hurt.

"if you're just gonna keep me around to set you up with a bunch of girls then maybe i don't want to be your friend anymore!" you snapped, agitation finally breaking the thin mask of patience you had.

leo set down his empty plate on the table, needing to give his hands something to do. "i was just- you know that's not why you're my friend!" he chuckled incredulously.

you stayed silent, letting his words dissolve in the air.

his eyebrows furrowed at your lack of response, as if trying to decipher the finality of your words. "you don't.. you don't mean that do you?"

"maybe i do." you stood up, the blanket falling off your legs. you grabbed your backpack, a reminder of what you guys were supposed to be working on.

leo quickly followed suit, springing to his feet and speeding after you as you walked towards the front door. "wait! i was just kidding! c'mon we can talk about this!" a hint of desperation seeped into his voice as he grabbed your wrist.

"we already did." you shot him a glare over your shoulder. he froze. he'd never seen that aimed at him. playful irritation, sure, but never that. not to him. his hand dropped your arm in shock, and you took your leave.

"i said, are you trying to kill me!?" the tv was still on.

the walk to school was quiet without leo, that you'd admit. you even got up a half hour early just so you wouldn't see him. yeah, it was a little petty, but you weren't exaggerating in your words. he had other friends, you had other friends—you're choosing to ignore the fact that half of them were mutual—you guys would be fine without each other. especially you.

except you forgot the fact that you guys were seated next to each other for nearly all your classes. that was awkward. everyone around you sensed the tension in the air, with you pointedly looking away from leo, at the board, and him trying to do the same. you could feel his leg shake the table as he bounced his knee, as well as the side glances he gave you.

even so, you continued to ignore him and the stupidly cute way his lips pursed into a frown. you weren't getting over it that easy.

leo fucked up. like, seriously fucked up. he hasn't fucked up this bad since.. well, since his invention quite literally blew up in his face. but this? this was like your friendship figuratively blew up in his face! and it felt even worse. he took a deep breath, rolling over in his bed with his blanket half-off. he brought the fabric up to his nose, inhaling the faint scent of your perfume that had stayed since last friday. without you, his thoughts felt louder than usual. they ran free in his mind, ranging from what should i eat for dinner? to god, did i mess up our whole friendship? was i taking her for granted when i kept asking her for relationship advice? why did i even do that? i didn't even really like any of those girls. what's wrong with me?

he curled up into a ball, squeezing the blanket to his chest and burying his face in it. leo willed himself to cry, but no tears would come. the overwhelming feeling in his chest had no way to escape. his heart thumped heavily, each painful beat reminding him of why he should've never been allowed to live.

"...and that's why you should- hey! are you even listening?" piper frowned, raising an eyebrow at leo, who was picking at his food.

he didn't answer, too busy moving the gross cafeteria food around his tray as he drooped against the table.

"okay, i know that you've got your little lover's quarrel with y/n, but you've gotta stop sulking and start doing." piper crossed her arms, eyeing him with a very unimpressed look. "did you seriously not hear a word i said? talk to her! apologize! it's been a week already!"

leo groaned, his head resting in his arms. “i know! and- wait did you just say ‘lover’s quarrel!?’” his head shot up, face feeling warm all of a sudden. “pipes, she’s just a friend! like you!”

piper gave him a disbelieving hum. “‘just a friend’ my ass! everyone can see how you look at her!” that’s why all the girls you make her set you up with never go on a second date.

leo genuinely looked confused. “what? i look at her normally, what are you talking about?”

jason, who was silent throughout the whole exchange, chortled a laugh. the two whipped their heads to him, the sudden noise from him surprising. "are you serious? leo, i don't think even i'm that oblivious!" he shared a look with piper that only the two would understand. ugh. another couple thing leo feels he'll never get.

leo's eye twitched. "oblivious about what? y/n's my best friend, i don't see what's so weird about that!"

the pair sighed. "you'll get it one day," jason said firmly, clapping him on the shoulder with solemn resolution.

"okay..?"

a whole week. leo had never gone without talking to you for a whole week! this was driving him insane! yeah, he knew you were mad at him and by default, he was supposed to be mad at you, but it was too much! next period, leo thought resolutely. i'll get her to talk to me next period. which just so happened to be his last period because although he had been thinking of this the whole day, he was too nervous to confront you earlier. he took a deep breath in and walked into chemistry class.

fate must hate him. or maybe his science teacher. right when when he slipped into his seat beside you, she clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. "class! today were going to be switching seats!" leo swore he saw her look at him as he said that. what did he ever do to her!? his heart sunk as he realized he might not sit next to you anymore. surely the teacher's gonna keep us together? i mean, they've all done that since like, the start of the year! she won't be any different.. right?

oh he was so wrong. leo pouted in his spot at the back of the class, watching you from across the room as you chatted it up with some jock. why is she being so smiley!? isn't she supposed to be mad? i mean, yeah, she's only mad at me, but doesn't that mean she's supposed to be grumpy in general!? why am i the only one who looks affected by this!?

the girl next to him cleared her throat, snapping him out of his thoughts. "uh, we need to start the experiment," she said without emotion, as if the mere action of talking to him was boring. seriously, why did everyone hate him today? it's not like they know anything that happened!

"oh.. right." leo took his notebook out and set it to the side, moving the vials to the center of the desk. he felt the girl's stare dig into his side, like she was looking at him with disdain. leo sighed. this was going to be a long period.

how did leo even end up here? parties weren't really his thing. he only came because he heard that you'd be here, but you were nowhere to be seen. leo leaned against a wall, trying not to look like a complete loser as he stood by himself. he took out his phone, navigating to his trusty weather app. where were you? if not you, then jason and piper? even percy or annabeth would do! they're probably each hooking up in a bathroom or something.. he thought with a grimace, trying to get the mental picture out of his head. leo wandered around with a cup of fanta, hoping to see you in the crowd.

you sipped from your red solo cup, the bubbly taste of soda delightfully stinging your tongue. this party's kinda boring... it'd be more fun with- you cut off your thoughts with a shake of your head. whatever. you had girl friends you could hang out with. as you made your way to them, a tap on your shoulder got your attention.. is it..? you turned around. it wasn't. you ignored the feeling in your stomach and smiled at the familiar—but not familiar enough—face of your new seatmate.

"oh hey! i didn't know you were coming!" you greeted with a smile.

he laughed, raising his eyebrow. "you think i'd miss this? i mean, look at me!" he gestured to himself quite vainly. "i throw these kinds of parties!"

you chuckled, nodding along to be polite. "uh, yeah, for sure!"

the both of you fell into an awkward silence that seemed to stretch out for forever.

leo spotted you across the room, the chatter around him seeming to die down as he saw you with that guy. i mean, seriously, he wasn't even your type! and, he'd know your type! like, weren't you guys just talking shit about jason's football friends? you could do so much better. like.. like me. leo's eyes widened. holy fuck. that's it! the feeling in his chest was akin to tightening the last screw of his project. the words his two friends had said to him earlier came rushing back with sudden clarity. they day he finally got it was sooner than expected. with a determined blaze in his heart, he slipped through the crowd and made his way to you.

you took the lull in your conversation as a sign to go to your other friends. "so, i'm gonna-"

"hey, i was going to-" he started.

the both of you stopped mid-sentence after speaking at the same time. you guys laughed it off, with you waving off his muttered apology.

"you can go first," you said, dipping your head at him to continue.

he cleared his throat, looking into your eyes intently. "well, i was wondering if you'd wanna go ou-"

"y/n!" leo strode up to you as if the fight between the two of you had never happened.

your face scrunched up in confusion, too perplexed to remember that you were supposed to be ignoring him. "leo? what are you-" he cut you off, directing his words to the other guy.

"hey, sorry if i interrupted something, but i gotta talk to y/n for a sec," leo flashed his teeth, mischievous dimples showing.

the jock's eyes widened as he took a step back. "oh.. oh, my bad man! i didn't think you guys were- are you really?" he laughed with obvious embarrassment, shaking his head as he retreated. "guess so.." he muttered under his breath as he faded into the crowd.

leo's hand slipped around your waist as he weaved the both of you in between people. his jaw was clenched, a sight you've only seen when he was concentrated on one of his many inventions. "what the hell are you doing?" you repeated your question, ignoring the way his touch sent familiar sparks down your spine. you shied away from it, half to push away your feelings and the other to keep up your fight out of pure pettiness.

his hand twitched as you moved away, his eyes narrowing as he stared straight ahead. but leo made no move to grab you again, ever the gentleman. "just come with me. please."

his tone itself was enough to make you listen to him without question. never had you seen him so.. serious. you found yourselves in an empty guest room, music thumping softly behind the walls.

"y/n," leo murmured, finally speaking as he turned around. his eyes were shifty, looking everywhere but directly into yours. you could see the way he chewed on the inside of his lip, as if rehearsing the words he had yet to say.

"i- i don't want you to talk to that guy." he blurted out after a beat of silence. his cute face wasn't enough to distract you from his words, however.

"excuse me?" you stared at him, your rose-tinted glasses shattering immediately.

leo shifted on his feet, realizing how off-putting he sounded. "not- not like that! sorry, i mean like-" he swallowed thickly, his leg starting to bounce.

"fuck i really suck at this, huh?" he muttered under his breath, before daring to look into your eyes.

"i mean i want you to talk to me instead because.. i like you. i want to be the one you talk to, like we used to. but- more than that because i like like you." he fumbled over his words, trailing off at the end as his eyes dipped down once again.

what? you opened your mouth to answer but he beat you to it to continue.

"i'm really sorry for how i acted like a jerk. and taking you for granted and making you set me up with practically every girl you knew. to tell you the truth, i don't know why i did that, 'cause i never really like any of 'em. or i thought i did and then i just, didn't and-" he would've rambled on forever if you hadn't cut him off with a kiss.

you heard him squeak in the back of his throat, hands tensing at his sides before gingerly wrapping around your waist, as if he was scared of messing up again. the both of you pulled away after a soft minute, his disbelieving eyes staring back at your playful expression. boy, did he miss the way you looked at him like that.

"took you long enough." you laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. "better not make me set you up with anyone ever again."

his face broke into a wide grin, never faltering even as you punched him. he brought you back into his arms, hugging you tightly. "the only person i'd want to be set up with is you." he drew back only slightly, his hands trailing up your body until he cupped your face, squishing your cheeks gently. "so? will you let me take you on a date?"

your smile was one that rivaled the sun, one he'd like to center his world around forever. "are you kidding? obviously!"

the kiss he gave you after was one you'd remember forever.

("twenty bucks jason, pay up!" piper whispered, peering through the crack in the door.

"..fuck.")

#leo valdez #leo valdez x reader #hoo #heroes of olympus #hoo x reader #heroes of olympus x reader #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #*ੈ✎ stories

[foreficfandom]

POV: You Are Actually MUCH More Powerful Than Alastor (ch. 2 - "Flashbacks")

(Alastor x Reader, g/n, queerplatonic/sex and romance favorable, fan theories, God!Reader) (AO3)

Alastor was always a man who craved control and attention. Ninety-odd years of being a demon has long since mutated his mortal desires into a festering appetite. While he was alive, it was a very mundane longing for the spotlight. Being the sought-after host of his own radio show was as close as being his own boss he could realistically hope for. The masses could listen and fawn over his charisma and humor while ignorant of his champagne hue.

If he wanted more, he would have to turn to drastic measures.

Young Alastor had made the station affluent, so they could afford to get their hands on any show recording they wished. One autumn, they aired The Witch’s Tale, a trailblazer for being the first horror-themed show on the radio. It garnered controversy from the conservative crowd, but ratings didn’t lie. New Orleans loved the series.

Alastor relayed the local news in his typical rapid-fire speech, a fashionable showman’s chatter made even faster thanks to his Creole blood, and as he speed-read his script in real time, he recited a quick advertisement for Madame Jones’ Hot Comb Oil before running the magnetic carbon ribbons of The Witch’s Tale. Voices of the actors took over the air. He drew a breath from a cigarette and leaned back on his chair. Alastor’s voice was now due for a rest until the current tape ran dry.

This was his first time hearing the show as well. Short horror tales were narrated by a fictional character named Old Nancy, one of the witches from Salem. The first tale was of a Venus statue come to life to slay the son of its sculptor, the second adapted from the real life confessions of the convicted Scottish witch Isobel Gowdie, the third clearly ripped off from Stevenson’s The Bottle Imp, and so on. After each tape, Alastor came back on the air for more news, advertisements, and the occasional social commentary. A quick joke about the Nipponese making waves on the West coast, a little update on McKinley’s first year back in office.

If he were to be candid, each episode of The Witch’s Tale was a gamble of hit or miss. Some were near contrived. But a few were quite satisfactory.

Most interesting was the narrator. After each tale, Old Nancy would reveal a bit more of her backstory. She never married. She grew her own food and earned her own money selling poultices. She may or may not have slept with both men and women. Her cat was a demon familiar. Her house was constructed partly from the bones of her victims.

Alastor found himself lost in thought. A young maiden, a pregnant mother, and an old widow swam through his mind. But the fourth woman … standing apart from the others, free from the grasp of a husband’s heavy greedy fist, proudly dangerous. A woman alone, but free. The maiden, matron, and crone, and now the witch.

Suddenly, Alastor saw himself repeated four times in place of the women. He was the scrawny teenage boy, then his current self, then a wizened old man, and in place of the witch was this enchanting visage of his long-lived personal fantasy, chest thrust upwards and smile brazen.

He tapped his fingers against his stomach as a strange thought overtook him. Could one become the witch?

Could Alastor be truly free from the Man’s grasp?

Hidden deep in the winding alleyways of New Orleans, voodoo was still going strong despite the coppers’ efforts. When mother was still alive, she would buy dry goods and miscellaneous wares from a small negro outlet run by Haitian immigrants, and locals knew that the shop’s upstairs hid a small voodoo church, an open secret amongst those uninterested in contacting police for any reason, even if they themselves weren’t practitioners.

Alastor knew nothing of voodoo. Mother was Lutheran, father had apparently been a loose Catholic. Church Sundays had tapered off by the time Alastor was nine, as did house praying aside from Christmas eve, and mother was near illiterate so there was no Bible reading. He never asked her if she was still faithful after dropping the more superfluous habits. Alastor’s heart ached at the thought of mother barred from the gates of Heaven.

He heard the horror stories of this dread voodoo religion. He, himself, has recited many sensational reports of sacrificial rituals and cannibalistic orgies, almost certainly all fear-mongering bullshit, but plenty enough believed that voodoo witches and warlocks used a black magic. Cursing good Christian families to die of plague, using living shadows to ensnare children away, poppets with needles, sigils that glow, that sort of malarkey.

If I could curse people, or control a tangible shadow, it would be a right gasser, he thought to himself.

A steady list of potential victims formed in his mind. Number one, the man who abandoned his wife and child to a stricken life of poverty. Just harmless daydreaming. Maybe.

Alastor used to say to himself, ‘thank God’ that mother was such a genius, otherwise they’d never have survived.

He wonders if he would soon be swearing different oaths.

—

To your nose, virginity didn’t have a strong smell or energy, but innocence did. The first time the two of you met, you had sensed Alastor’s putrid, gore-soaked body roaming the hotel long before he could sense you approaching the front door, although you allowed him to believe he had the upper hand. Murderers, especially those who lusted, were very blatant. A subtle pang told you that Alastor didn’t lust for flesh like many men did. His body smelled virgin, but more telling, his powers would not be affected should that come to change. After all, only someone uncaring of an aspiration would not evolve from achieving it.

Alastor was not innocent. Not like princess Charlie. Not like the children sinner souls.

He may not have a clue what Angel Dust meant by wearing a “special sort of ring ”, but hunger had many forms.

Flesh, blood, and bone were common sacrifices made to manifest power. A human’s physiology cultivated some of its greatest energy from fats and protein, so it made sense why Alastor’s curse would force him to fuel by consuming meat. But if he were in kinder circumstances, he might have instead been encouraged to eat any other sort of matter, or not fuel himself through food at all.

Clearly, Alastor’s debtors wanted to corrupt the man beyond what murder would do to his mind and soul. The more Alastor killed, the more he ate, the more powerful he grew, and the more he’d need to eat. He became a slave to his appetite.

You wondered if it was because they couldn’t affect him through his loins, so they chose the closest alternative.

In any case, Alastor did resent his need for nourishment, just not nearly as much as he resented the actual chains. It helped that he has always found fulfillment in creating, eating, and sharing food, and there was a very good place in Hell for that kind of attitude.

Cannibal Town didn’t become a proper, distinct district until Overlord Rosie’s rise to status. The industrial revolution had created a great epidemic of poverty, and many struggling in the developing American frontier had turned to cannibalizing the dead to survive, from the children to the elderly, only tapering off when a successful ‘20’s economy rose to the rescue. Rosie turned the predominant Edwardian-era population into its current image. Walking through Cannibal Town’s streets of petticoats and boater hats, it was like stepping back into one of your past lifetimes as a New Yorker under Taft, watching Florence Lawrence in picture shows and seeing oreo cookies on the shelves for the first time.

In fact, ‘oreo’ biscuits were sold in Cannibal Town, imitating their original tin box packaging, but they were made with rendered human fat rather than pork tallow. Rosie wanted her people to embrace their partaking, rather than languish in their past sins, or hide their undying appetite. Human flesh wasn’t an addictive substance, but cannibalism certainly was. It was as habit forming as any other ritual gesture, like how Vaggie wakes up in the morning to tie her hair ribbon right-over-left, or how Husk always arranges the bar’s bottle storage just so, or how Alastor uses an old pewter pot to boil his coffee over the stove fire. Many of these antiquated cannibals treat their slaying, butchering, and eating with the same love they used to have for the Eucharist.

Alastor’s affinity for Cannibal Town wasn’t quite because he felt kinship between their cannibalism. Fondness for Rosie aside, it was the best source of properly prepared human meat for sale, trimmed and bled as thoroughly as venison chuck. Passionate cook he may be, but he never had the patience for true butchering. Especially whilst mortal, and in Hell, a victim could easily be ten feet tall with several limbs. Who aside from the butcher had time to set aside eight hours for that?

No, Alastor’s reasons and fondness for partaking wasn’t commonly shared amongst the Cannibal Town locals. Most likened it to a sexual gratification. Many saw it as an alternative way to rape the weak. Some saw it as their only outlet for frustration. Some just wanted to fit in.

And to them, cannibalism was a very social hobby. Proper ladies found great sisterhood in tearing into a corpse like starving wolves, respectable men could now exercise their libido amongst other men by delving deep into flesh as a group. But whilst Alastor, too, socialized through food, eating mortal flesh was his curse, not his indulgence.

You knew for a fact that ever since the inception of his deal, Alastor's clause for cannibalism would quickly morph into an honest taste for it, but Alastor could only hypothesize if that was the case, or he just simply lost his mind sometime after his fourth killing.

Alastor shook himself out of his reverie as he approached the door to his favorite Cannibal Town grocer, you following close behind. He had been finding himself lost in his own thoughts more and more often, lately. No doubt due to your influence.

He could have shut down in complete bewilderment, but he was Alastor, damn it all, so he will garner the bravery to take the next step forward, then the step after that, and so on.

Towards a brighter future, he dared to hope.

He opened the door for you, and the two of you entered the little store. Like all grocers before the ‘50’s, the wares weren’t self-serve. Alastor summoned a paper list, and read off what he wanted to purchase. The mustached shopkeeper brought forward each item onto the counter before ringing them up on the register, using an old exertion scale for the fresh goods. A pound of dried red beans, a rasher of salted belly, a loaf of sugar, three pounds worth of scrap shin bones, and four red capsicums. You noticed that the capsicums - the bell peppers - were the smaller, pointier variety sold during Alastor’s lifetime, before cultivation increased their size and yield. Likewise, the sugar loaf was compressed into an old-fashioned triangular cone, wrapped in paper, not a pure white but a light flaxy yellow from its residue molasses. All the manufacturer’s labels were a parody of their living equivalents. The burlap sack of Camellia-brand kidney beans was of a bloody heart with green, thorny vines named “Carnillia”, instead of the original round flower.

The shopkeeper wrapped the raw meats into their own smaller bag. It went unsaid, but they were obviously human remains. You reached forwards to carry the groceries whilst Alastor was occupied with paying, but then said to you, “Nonsense, dear,” and reclaimed the load in a gentlemanly manner. A polite, but largely useless gesture, as it’d take monolithic mass to truly test your physical prowess, and Alastor had his own increased strength as an Overlord.

In fact, the last time you struggled to carry an object with all your true power, it had created a black hole where it fell.

Part of Alastor’s original deal for power was certainly to improve his meager physical ability, as he was like many young men who pictured their ideal self boasting some petal to the metal. His lean muscles did not swell, and he couldn’t bench-press an automobile, but he did find a great force behind his punches, and his running speed, and even when he twisted open a pickle jar. It had been a relatively mundane boon compared to his showier magic, but the knowledge that you couldn’t be physically overtaken was intoxicatingly empowering. Alastor finally understood why burly brutes acted so brazen, even if his silhouette didn’t display it.

Yes, his original deal was as righteous as any young person’s plea for bravery. But whilst some may only ask for a sword, he had asked for a legion.

And by mother’s grave, he got it.

Father had been his original sacrifice. He tracked down the drunkard squatting in a Chalmette hobo jungle, and knifed him in the belly until the wretch’s blood flow slowed to a crawl. He spent all night dragging the corpse across town and to the lake, right where the most notorious of voodoo orgies were said to take place, and mimicked the manbo’s ceremony, finger painting vèvè before shouting - begging, screaming, really - for anybody or anything to answer him.

He always tries to avoid remembering what came next.

Mother hadn’t passed, yet, but she was on her deathbed. She had been fighting scarlet fever for weeks, and pneumonia had developed. Alastor himself had a brief sick spell due to contamination, but he refused to move out of the house. If his mother was about to leave this world, he wanted to be there.

Mother’s pauper’s burial was baptized in Alastor’s second killing. A eugenic small-time politician one neighborhood over, who would have never achieved his meager position if it wasn’t for connections, thanks to the scandal of marrying his fourteen-year-old niece. For this attack, Alastor let his new powers bloom freely, but his inexperience left the corpse a complete mangled mess. Indeed, the shocking state of the body was what first sparked rumors of the Butcher Of New Orleans. Named so because of the man’s conspicuously missing flesh and organs, leading the police to rightly profile the suspect as a cannibal.

Life went on. Alastor’s mind and mood matured, and he hit his stride. He grew from radio host to radio star. He made plenty of honest friendships. He found innocent fun, and also learned to refine his not-so-innocent ones. By age 37, Alastor had a celebrity career, a Cadillac automobile, a sparkling reputation, and a total body count of twenty-eight men.

A month before he would turn 38, he found himself in hell. He remembered that his first action was to look around, expecting to see his father as if the man would, by chance, be standing on the nearby street corner. He looked up, and saw the glowing celestial body that must be heaven, high above and unreachable.

He wondered if mother was simultaneously looking down. Or was she still waiting for her dutiful son to show up and join her? Alastor had made great effort to ensure that mother never knew of how much of a monster her son really was.

Slowly coming back to the present, Alastor found himself wistfully looking at the morning sky as the two of you waited for traffic to halt. The haloed planisphere was partially hidden by daytime cloud cover, but one could spot the ever present gateway to heaven just about visible.

You followed Alastor’s gaze to the skies above. As remote as heaven may seem to the eye, you knew that it wasn’t a matter of distance. After all, heaven and hell weren’t places. They were states of being. You told him so last night, since he was under the impression that with just enough power, he could track down his debtor.

Unfortunately, if a suitably powerful being didn’t want to be found, no amount of searching would work.

He had bristled at that, fur on his ears standing, and paced away.

Then spun around with renewed, fake bravado, and said he would lure them here.

“How?” you asked.

He had no idea, but just twirled his cane into both hands with a closed eye grin. Apparently, he’d think of something.

Before the night concluded, he told you that all these earth-shattering revelations would have to be mulled over a hefty serving of his favorite comfort food, so you and him would dine privately a stew of baked beans. An especially fatty and. Well. Cannibalistic recipe of his.

So it came to be that the two of you left the hotel early next morning for some shopping, which of course caught the eye of nearby Niffty, who would most certainly be relaying the latest gossip to everyone else.

Let them talk. Alastor loved being the hottest gossip topic, and the friendships you choose to keep are yours alone.

Of course, most of them suspected that there was more than friendship involved. Not the wording you’d choose, but perhaps it wasn’t inaccurate.

There was divinity between the two of you, now. Every time you’ve muddled in mortal affairs, great cosmic connections formed between your souls. Inevitable, considering who you were, but they often had great repercussions. You considered every one of them worth the trouble.

That afternoon, the two of you entered the kitchen once more, but this time you stood by and watched as Alastor prepared a kettle to hang over his fireplace. Per his request (demands), you arrived to his room at eight on the dot to his little table set with sliced bread and a decanter of whiskey. The pocket swamp beyond was darkened and dotted with lazy fireflies. A radio station played, but not from the two sat on his bookshelf, nor emitting from Alastor himself, just directionless in the air as if the room itself breathed radio.

“Please, come on in,” he bowed, just a tad overweening. Say what you will about the man, he bounces back from existential despair pretty gracefully.

One of the seats slid out on its own accord. You sat obligingly to the tantalizing smell of spice, partially masking your ability to detect the human remains in the stew. As Alastor sat across from you, the disembodied radio chatter in the air twitched frequencies to instead play a wordless ballad.

“I took the liberty of choosing tonight’s choice of drink,” he said, pouring whiskey for the both of you. “I know it’s a bit early in the evening for the mule, but indulge this pitiful sinner.”

“It’s your meal, after all.” And true enough, Alastor stood no ceremony in digging a spoon deep into his bowl. Alcohol had its particular effects on you, so you reversed the fermentation of your whiskey into a poof of evaporated ethanol and a wet pile of sugar, mostly to amuse yourself, also to sneak a pinch of malt into your bow to cut some of the fat. Alastor had made the stew so rich, you could probably alchemize a toddler from the lipids.

You watched as Alastor relished deeply in his first spoonful. Fats, you remembered, was sometimes a more affordable grocery than sugar or flour, depending on the slaughter season. A poor Alastor would have grown up being treated to cheap, streaky bacon more often than beignets or hot cocoa.

“Just as mother made it,” he sighed wistfully, as if reading your mind. Far from the first time he’s mentioned his mother aloud, but before it had always been a set up for a jape, his comedian nature never at rest, and not unfiltered sentimentality. He must know that it was useless to hide secrets from you.

You forwent the malt sugar to taste the dish as it was intended. Surprisingly, it was shockingly laced with pure intentions that caressed your tongue and made tears well up behind your eyes. You didn’t think Alastor was capable of it.

It tasted like love.

Maybe he had more of a chance than you first thought.

—

Supper continued throughout the night. Alastor downed one, two, and was working on his third bowl before the conversation turned to the elephant in the room.

“- and when I kill the wretches souls who’ve clipped me like a duckling, I’ll -”

“Cool the jets, Alastor. We’d have to find them, first.” You stepped in before he could wind himself up.

“See, I’ve been thinking,” he took a hearty swig from his third glass of whiskey, "take it from a man with a couple of his own eggs in the basket. You know what makes a debtor knock on the front door faster than a twinkle?”

“What?”

He grinned angrily. “If he thinks there’s more debt to be had. You spot a way to keep your favorite minion closer to your chest for longer, you take it before someone else can.”

With a twist of his wrist, he downed his glass and slammed it none too quietly on the table. His eyes no longer meeting yours and burning holes into the wall over your elbow. “So! You help me advertise my devilish self as desperate for another deal, or perhaps just a clever amendment clause or two, and I promise you, they’ll show up.”

“And then what’ll we do?”

“End their wretched lives! What else?”

“Life began millions of years ago, and it hasn’t stopped since. Your jailer has long since learned to take advantage of that.” You calmly lounged with loosely crossed legs and arms, while Alastor was beginning to hover over the table like an angry ape. “There’s no way to ‘end their life’ in a manner you’d care about.”

With his face so close, you could smell the whiskey on his tongue along with an unfortunate whiff of antiquated dental hygiene standards. He wasn’t quite yet drunk, but was certainly not sober.

Your words gave him pause, but a radio star never let dead air stagnate. “Well, perhaps it was never a matter of killing them. No proper creditor makes their debtor more powerful than he.”

You said, “Your leash has its share of loopholes and weakness, like all contracts do. There’s never a way to fully avoid them, so most make additions that forbid them.”

Green stitches all along his maw. In one blink, you saw Alastor in his full pitiful glory, glowing neon-bright inverted hues, rotted body held together haphazardly with unforgiving threads. In another blink, Alastor was his normal outward self.

Back and forth you flipped your vision, trying to find any clues or conclusions. Snipping the threads would just make him fall apart. There must be a gentler conclusion.

Suddenly, you remembered what he said. “Alastor, how many debtors do you own?”

“Oh, I can’t remember the exact number. Ninety years is a long time. The answer’s somewhere in my ledger, I’m sure,” he waved a hand.

“Lend me a look. Please,” you added when Alastor’s glare turned vicious, “it’s important. You can trust me.”

“Now, how in the world would my own roster matter to my predicament?”

You leaned forward, meeting Alastor’s couched posture in the middle. “I made a promise, didn’t I? I promised you true liberty. If you want my help, then let me help.” You kept your voice low as if whispering a secret, even though no one was around to overhear. No one Alastor could see, anyways.

A heartbeat passed, then another. Then, with a great crackling of old vertebrae like he had suddenly aged decades, Alastor reigned in his defenses.

Has he ever yielded so completely since granted his powers? No wonder it felt so dreadful, like shaking off a carpet of cobwebs.

Never let it be known that Alastor was a chap who couldn’t learn something new, you heard him think bitterly. A dry exhale aired throughout the room as elongated shadows retreated, electric bulbs shone brighter, and the fireplace changed from eye-searing blacklight back to its natural warm glow.

Nonchalant smile back on his face, Alastor wiped his hands with a napkin and stood.

“Ah well. No time like the present, then?”

#alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel

[alexseanchai]

so on the one hand, Yuuko's massive nosebleed in ep 3 is an obvious example of the anime trope in which nosebleeds indicate sexual attraction and/or arousal, and the comically large volume of blood is equally obviously an indication of the strength of that attraction, exaggerated for effect

on the other hand, there's no scientific basis for sexual arousal to relate to nosebleeds:

and I'm not sure how to estimate the volume of blood Yuuko is shown losing, but it's plenty enough that Yurio shouting for help (in the English dub) or asking Yuuko if she's sick (in the Japanese dub) is an entirely reasonable reaction:

and after all, Yuuri and Yuuko would both be well aware of this anime trope, and there's no reason to think Yurio would be; it makes sense that neither Yuuko nor Yuuri would be concerned, but the fact Yurio is, and he's making no effort to pretend otherwise—Yurio, who until now has made such a point of growling at Victor and hurting Yuuri in order to not look like he cares about either—

and a week later, when Yuuko sees Yurio in what must be a costume from one of Victor's first two seasons as a junior, age thirteen to fifteen to Yuuko's eleven to thirteen at the time:

ah, so someone told Yurio about the nosebleed-indicates-arousal trope

fascinating characterization all around

...speaking of nosebleeds:

and I'll link to both these metas as soon as I find them again, which I'd appreciate assistance with since I'm blanking on who posted either:

one observed that Victor noticed Yuuri flubs his jumps when there's something on his mind, and that we don't hear Yuuri's thoughts for most of his free skate in ep 5, but we do see him screw up the last jump, and the final scene in the episode is Yuuri's love confession to Victor—which suggests Yuuri realized on the ice that he loves Victor, the mortal human he's been learning the past five months, even with all the ways Victor frustrated Yuuri earlier in ep 5

the other observed that Victor was wondering who Yuuri's defiance of his coach reminded Victor of, and he was surprised to realize it's himself, a thought he had only after Yuuri took his final pose—which suggests Victor was also surprised by Yuuri's final pose

connect those two dots and we get, Yuuri changed the final pose on impulse, same as he changed the final jump in ep 7 on impulse, because he realized on the ice he loves Victor

can't help but suspect, given the nosebleed and everything, that he's thinking of sexual as well as romantic love

(which yes also has the Watsonian explanation of he bounced his face off the boards, which might say something about Yuuri being ace or demi given Yuuko did not injure herself in ep 3 and was definitely banging at least one man as a teenager, but like)

#yuri on ice #nishigori yuuko #yuri plisetsky #yuuri katsuki #victor nikiforov #victuuri #yoi meta #by alexseanchai

[fandom-madness69]

If you think the Tunnel of Love scene was them "confessing their feelings" or the show "speed running Percabeth" or anything like that, you are clearly forgetting Rick himself has already said "Shut up and let the slow burn slow burn because it's going to." Y'all see two people being vulnerable with each other for half a second (in retrospect to the rest of their canon lives) and suddenly think they changed everything.

I'm tired of everyone wanting Annabeth to hate and be annoyed by Percy for another year and a half. Like Jesus dude can't you allow for some changes that aren't just comical or entertaining? It's the same as being mad Sally has a fucking backbone against Gabe. Hello?! She had a two month long affair with a fucking god. Not just any god. Stormbringer. Earthshaker. Father of horses. That man may not have been toxic but you can rest assured he made sure Sally wasn't going to be some pushover when he broke his sacred fucking vow not to have anymore demigods, which basically meant no more relationships with mortals. You're telling me you think he chose a weak woman to break a sacred vow over? The god who can tear the world and ocean apart with one (1) shifted tectonic plate? As. Fucking. If.

Also if you're mad that Grover was made to stay behind during that scene you are lame. Grover deserves to stop having to pretend to be 12 for 5 seconds of his life. Grover is TWICE THEIR AGE and has spent the last YEAR amongst acne riddled, pre-pubescent, annoying ass teenagers. The MAN deserves 5 seconds to sit with Ares and be like "So actually I'm 24 and I'm fixing to prove it and play you like a cheap fucking kazoo."

#pjo rant #percy jackson #pjo spoilers #pjo tv spoilers #fandom madness69 #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo grover

[xenosaurus]

I have a page for my worldbuilding projects that’s a huge WIP, but in the mean time, here’s a list of the ones I can remember off the top of my head!  I’ve done my best to split these by genre, although some obviously fit in multiple categories. You can also browse through my "original stuff" tag for things that haven't made it as far as a concrete project, if you can tolerate the mess.

UPDATE: Tumblr changed their tag system, so I had to fix the links.  They SHOULD be working, but chronological links don’t cooperate with mobile, so I’ve made them general links.  Please add /chrono to the url if you can, a few of these are very weird out of order (looking at you, Boar’s Blood).

Urban Fantasy

Witchmouth General; comedy about a hospital in a city that is mostly monsters and aliens

Freedom Over Gold; a comedy-drama about a trio of homunculi killing their masters

Immortality and Tax Fraud; a comedy about gods who possess people and the hosts that are still resisting them (slightly NSFW)

Mundane Motherhood; a slice of life/recovery story about a woman who adopts a kid who was being raised to fight demons

The Empty City; a drama about a limbo world entered in dreams by people who compete for “days”, which give them another day of life in the real world

The Mortal Forge; an adventure story about a group of cursed people putting together an expedition to find a legendary cure

Tethered; a slice of life story in a setting where everyone has a familiar, starring two teenagers who are “tethering” their familiars, allowing them to become more physical and sentient

Fallen Angels in YOUR Area!; a comedy about a group of angels who are banished to earth for gaining too much individuality

Arlan Kingslayer; a comedy about classic high fantasy book characters being brought to the real world and not wanting to leave

High Fantasy

Boar’s Blood; an adventure story about a magical society built on the grave of an undead dragon that is rapidly falling apart (NSFW)

The Phoenix Bride; an adventure story/romance about a woman exploring an ever-expanding magical tower to confess her feelings to the woman who created it

God Hunters; technically closer to magical steampunk, an all-women drama about monster hunters (NSFW)

Scales and Bonedust; in a setting where some humans live in dwellings draped over the backs of dragons, a man and a dragonling try to find their way home after their whole community is killed

Rabbitheart; a fairy tale of sorts about a young jester (and would-be sorceress) trying to reclaim her familiar to earn a princess' hand in marriage, with a large section of backstory about the setting's version of Arthurian lore

The Mayfly; a dark fantasy about a mortal half-elf prince learning the truth of elven immortality

Whalefall; merfolk dark fantasy about a "bloodsalt knight" (a soldier who bites themselves to draw attacking predators to the blood and away from their school) who is separated from her people

Mark the End; trope manipulation on 'everyone grows up and has babies' endings where the children are the reborn god-monsters their guardians fought as teenagers. heavy on monster lore and character drama

Vampire Prince Walter; a romantic comedy about childhood sweethearts (who have since become a vampire and a werewolf) being arranged to marry each other... as long as their fathers don't find out they like each other too much to spy on the other.

Science Fiction

New Apocalyptia; a comedy about a world where all movie apocalypses happened at once (slightly NSFW)

Salt Water; an adventure story about a group trying to reach the bottom of their world’s incredibly deadly oceans, also mermaids and surfing as a death sport

Peppermint Circuits; a gay love story set in a world where everyone has a chip in their brain to influence their behavior (slightly NSFW)

Spycaller; a murder mystery about humans who interact with the intergalactic community from within mech suits

Superheroes

Superfish; a traditional coming of age superhero story about an LGBT group for college-aged sidekicks

Isaac is Okay; a very gentle story about a timetraveling superhero that traps himself in the past to raise his younger self away from their abusive father

Villain Risk; a superhero drama about an illegal hero team being arrested, told after the fact by a social worker, a kid in juvenile detention, and a shapeshifter who killed a cop and stole his life

Fate and Switch; a soulmate au fakeout about psychically linked superheroes who have been brainwashed, and their partners’ attempts to find them

Tooth and Nail; a superhero/kaiju mashup about bioengineered superheroes fighting monsters, and the protagonist’s attempts to protect his new apprentice from the horrors of their work

You Can Keep the Mask On; a superhero story intended to be told through sexual encounters between characters, obviously (very NSFW)

Overpowered; a comedy about a city's extremely, well, overpowered supervillains

Abelsons; a superhero story focusing on the "support" members, such as the people who make costumes and the medics

Bonus Individual Posts

that one about the destiny orphanage that one about the silkworm aliens

#original stuff #finally an updated pinned post!

[1-up-chump]

How would Hanzo and Kuai react if they were both in love with the same reader who doesn't notice their crush point-blank because sees them as friends?

Thanks~

Scorpion and sub-zero with a mutual but clueless crush.

So im going to separate this into 4 outcomes: choosing hanzo, choosing kuai, choosing both, choosing neither.

Scorpion/Hanzo hasashi:

You were quite a prize indeed, a fine warrior trained by several masters over the years in a short amount of time. And now was the shirai ryu's turn to mold you into a proper champion to fulfill liu kang's destiny should anything happen to the monk, or rather, make his job easier.

Hanzo fell in love with not just your determination, but your compassion. Especially towards the younger trainees, who adored you in a way the closest comparison would be of parental status. Which only made hanzo fall deeper in love.

It might have been a problem when you then went to the lin kuei, right after hanzo accepted the fact that he was in love with you. Such personal matters should not interfere with training, that would be unwise. But completing your training there was a situation, grandmaster kuai liang seemed to also have an intrest in you. More so than a grandmaster should.

But you never seen either of them as more than masters to respect, and friends to cherish. It had to come to an outside influence to point out to you the truth you obliviously didn't know, once your fellow earthrealm warrior pointed this out, a moment of clarity dawned on you. Repressed feelings during training under grandmaster hanzo hasashi came pouring back like an unchecked fire.

Needless to say that hanzo had to quell his excitement when he confessed to you, and you returned his feelings.

Sub-zero/kuai liang:

The lin kuei is about discipline and honor, strong and unmoving as a glacier yet purer than mountain snow, Swift as water and silent as smoke. And then there was you, the embodiment of sunshine that melts all that is frozen into a glitter more precious than gold. Kuai was impressed by your resilience, patience, and compassion in the face of what would be certain death. It was far from what a lin kuei warrior was supposed to be, but he was training a future champion of mortal kombat, not a future clan member.

So it was a little more easy for kuai to develop feelings, not that you or anyone would be able to tell. As kuai was figuring out what these feelings were, love was not something that was needed in the lin kuei. At least dueing the time of the previous grandmaster, oniro, who was cruel even for the lin kuei's intense standards. Regardless, kuai saw that hanzo seemed to have eyes for you as well.

Kuai had warned hanzo what it would mean for a grandmaster to fall in love with their student, often, to a point hanzo suspected kuai of having feelings as well. Kuai's heart had betrayed him, and he confessed that Although it may be true, they should focus on the bigger picture. And noticed that you were completely unaware of both their pining for you.

So naturally, kuai decided he would strike first. And he was relieved of his decision as you shared the same, but did not know if it was ethical. Which to your surprise, kuai stated that while unwise and unprofessional, it's not exactly unheard of such things happening.

Both:

In this situation, instead of one making a final decision, the grandmasters bickered. Which naturally led into a fight. Which you had to break up.

You were disappointed in them both, acting less like grandmasters of two highly respected assassin clans and more like petty teenagers. They both felt ashamed and apologized. And then shocked when you continued to tell them that, now you know the truth, a compromise could be made. You explained to them the concept of polyamory, and while this would be a bit complicated, it could work. Hanzo and kuai agreed.

Neither:

In this situation, instead of one making a final decision, the grandmasters bickered. Which naturally led into a fight. Which you had to break up.

You were disappointed in them both, acting less like grandmasters of two highly respected assassin clans and more like petty teenagers. They both felt ashamed and apologized. You went on to explain that you weren't even interested in the both of them in such a way, you respected them as not only masters, but friends. With this closure, it would be painful and awkward, but the two of them would move on.

#mortal kombat #x reader #xreader #scorpion mortal kombat #kuai liang mortal kombat

[sterling-writes]

Confessions of a Teenage Mortal - a series by @sterling-writes.

Beauregard, an old, cold-hearted necromancer, has ruled as king of the Underworld for thousands of lifetimes. However, he incurs the wrath of a goddess of death, who rips him of his title, his powers, and his home.

Before the goddess sends him away, she bestows one last punishment: she turns back time and makes the king young again.

Exiled, he takes refuge with his estranged family in the land of the living. With the help of the curious people he meets along the way, he must earn back his magic and learn how to navigate life above ground as a teenage mortal.

Confessions of a Teenage Mortal tells a story of magic, change, and redemption, as Beauregard sets on an adventure into the great unknown of modern-day Upstate New York, filled with new friends and found (or reunited) family, who are tasked with unraveling a looming mystery.

Prologue: Sewn (AO3)

Episode One: Haven - Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 (AO3)

~ Poster art by me ❤

#teen mortal #confessions of a teenage mortal #oc #oc fic #my stuff #sterling-writes #demon bo #beauregard #bo #writing #my writing #confessions

[texaschainsawmascara]

Megan Fox, ‘09

#megan fox #jennifer’s body #jennifer's body #jennifer check #transformers #mikaela banes #expend4bles #confessions of a teenage drama queen #carla santini #jonah hex #passion play #tmnt #april o'neil #april o’neil #till death #night teeth #mortal kombat #nitara #gif #2000s

[depressedhatakekakashi]

God of Storms au- Gai and Kakashi’s Love

Gai’s First lifetime- Platonic Love. Gai had a crush as a child but grew out of it as he aged and Kakashi stayed young

Dragon life- Both felt a ting of romantic love but neither did anything about it

Prince Life- first time either of them (Gai) admits to being in love with the other. Kakashi left Gai’s life after this confession believing he was ruining Gai’s chances at a normal mortal life

Knight Life- Gai still harbored those feelings of romantic love but only understood them as devotion. Only came to understand them as genuine feelings of love when he met Kakashi on his final night of life.

merchant Life- both harbored feelings of romantic love, but kept their distances for different reasons. Gai due to an uncharacteristic shyness that only really exists in this lifetime due to his trauma’s, and Kakashi due to Rin having a child with Gai and him feeling he would be infringing upon something by then seeking Gai out

Rogue life- Both harbored feelings for each other and knew the other returned those feelings, but did nothing about it because Gai’s life was so chaotic. Kakashi showed love by being there and supporting Gai in everything he did, in any way that he could.

Traveller Life- Both harbored feelings for each other, but only admitted it once Gai reached the village he knew as his home. Gai held back because he was determined to find the place he was so desperately seeking, but by the time he could finally accept these feelings it was too late. They only had a day and Gai had no strength to do anything about it due to his illness.

Teacher Life- a whole adulthood of love for Gai. Kakashi showed up in Gai’s life when he was around 25 and wasted no time in confessing his feelings (ok he waited a few months to seem normal but then confessed). Never married or settled down due to Kakashi being a god, but they had an entire lifetime together in which Kakashi even disguised himself so it seemed like he was aging with Gai. Only on Gai’s final day of life did he reveal his true form to his lover

Final Life- an entire lifetime. Kakashi’s mortal life. Grew up together and loved each other from the time they were teenagers. Their time together was cut short by Kakashi’s mortal life ending, but it was 30 years of brilliant bliss that they enjoyed and will never forget

#GOS AU #God of Storms au #Kakagai

[11queensupreme11]

In there universe when Percy is born from poor Loki’s womb…

Odin: Okay Loki did you eat something with Poseidon’s blood on it or are you finally going to confess to getting fucked by Poseidon?

Loki tries to explain to the Allfather that has not happened because dammit he would not hide actually getting to sleep with Poseidon but Odin does not believe him as Loki was conveniently missing around the same time that Poseidon was rumored to be out of his palace.

In the background, Thor and Hades are currently staring each other down over who gets the right to hold baby Percy who’s trying to escape being in the middle of the dispute by reaching her small hands out to Poseidon who is currently trying to figure out when he fucked Loki to make Percy.

(The gods think Percy’s lack of resemblance to either is due to Loki’s shapeshifting shennanigans)

oh i love this i can definitely see thor and hades squaring up for baby percy.

i would also just like the add that odin would probably be her favorite grandpa EVER, which isn't saying much since her mortal grandpa is dead and her other one possessed a teenager to try and kill her and take over the world

#👸🏻| asks #👸🏻| arsenic blues

[web-novel-polls]

Five Love Languages of Danmei: Pining Bracket

Mingqian from Liu Yao: the Revitalization of Fuyao Sect

Characters: Yan Zhengming and Cheng Qian

Liu Yao Carrd Link

Submission:

"A hundred years, Cheng Qian! A mortal's lifetime would've passed just like that"

Poor single mother Yan Zhengming keeping the family alive because SOMEONE couldn't stay alive... The way Han Tan was able to recognize Cheng Qian because YZM kept drawing portraits of him... The fucking. slappy ring. Anyw yeah Yan Zhengming be pinin'

Xiyuan from Qi Ye/Lord Seventh

Characters: Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi

Submission:

- Wu Xi waited for a whole year for Jing Beiyuan to return to the capital, and each day of it waited at a pavilion outside the city, just in case he happened to return that very day. Each day. For 365 days.

- When he returned, Wu Xi gave Jing Beiyuan a jade ring, which in tradition meant that Jing Beiyuan would be betrothed to him. This was when they were both teenagers

- Does Wu Xi tell Jing Beiyuan this? No. He simply gives a token of his love & affection and doesn't dare tell him yet, just pines

- Ends up in his 20s when he finally, actually tells him the meaning of the ring and confesses

Submission 2:

Additional Xiyuan propaganda: If we're counting Wu Xi's life as the Soulhook Envoy, then there's also the "several endless centuries" where he watched Jing Qi as he did his duties while Jing Qi never looked back at him, plus another 63 years that Jing Qi spent by that rock.

Additional Propaganda

#xiyuan have over 300 years (7 lifetimes) of pining (via @/dannysbian)

Total Computable Years: 305+ years (fanart by @/rinledraws) -

["Anti-Propaganda" that attacks other characters is NOT allowed. Please only give reasons to vote FOR a character/ship.]

#mingqian #liu yao #priest #xiyuan #lord seventh #qi ye #polls #danmei #danmei love languages tournament #danmei pining bracket #danmei pining bracket round 9 #queue #long post

[blueisquitetired]

ABANDONED WIP WEDNESDAY

This one's a two parter!

Mirror Image was originally going to be a dad!Ingo fic before I decided better of it. I like what I have now more, but there sure is a lot that got scrapped unfortunately.

This post will contain what was written for the first chapter, and the next post will be the overall outline plus one scene set much later in the fic.

Heroes and Villains, Alternate Timeline- Ingo is a Dad Now

Length: 2,000 words

Rating: G

No archive warnings apply

PREVIOUSLY ON- HEROES AND VILLAINS:

*Tragedy struck early last year when famed hero Chandelure perished in a battle against the dastardly Mirror Coat. No body was recovered, but according to the Hero Commission and Chandelure’s former partner and twin brother Eelektross he was all but guaranteed dead.

Yet, not all was as it seemed, as mere months later a new villain arose- one sporting similar powers and going by the name of Smokestack. This outraged Eelektross, as to him it was clear that this was his brother’s true killer- one that had murdered him and stolen his powers for himself. Eelektross declared war on the villain, and swore that he would not rest until his twin was avenged.

That is, until one fateful confrontation let Eelktross see under Smokestack’s mask.

Because what lie under that mask was no heartless killer, but instead Nobori- a scarred amnesiac who emerged from the burning rubble of Chandelure’s battle as nothing but a ghost of a man. A man who was forced to build himself from the ground up, relying on the community who took him in, and doing his best to pay them back for their generosity. And considering that hero skirmishes are the thing that hurt his community the most, his best plan of action was clear.

Now Eelektross, (or Emmet as he is known by in his civilian life) must confront the difficult truth that the world isn’t as black and white as he thought. That villains could be good people, heroes could be bad people, and that he’s been fighting his brother to the death for months now.

But more then that- he just wants to be with his brother again.

Will Emmet manage to confess to being Eeletross? Will Ingo accept such a thing if he did? And will the commission figure out what really happened to Chandelure? Find out in todays episode of…* HEROES AND VILLAINS!

Ingo is alive.

Ingo is alive! Messed up situation aside, that’s the most important part.

Sure, they’re technically mortal enemies at the moment, and sure he’ll probably drop Emmet like a hot sack of coals when he realizes he’s Eelektross, but still. Even if he finds out, (when he finds out, because Emmet can’t keep this secret forever) even if he does disown Emmet, at least he’ll be alive. Alive and happy and mostly safe. ….as safe as an enemy of the law can be.

But whatever! Ingo’s back from the dead and Emmet doesn’t want to dwell on the inevitability of once again losing the most important person in the world to him. He can deal with that later. Right now he’d rather spend whatever time he can have with his brother.

….after he gets back from the bathroom.

Playing with his fingers idly, Emmet really wished Ingo would hurry up so he didn’t have to be alone with his own thoughts. ….but he didn’t want to rush his brother or anything- they’d been talking for hours at that point and taking a bodily break was fine and definitely not an issue. Emmet’s head was just a bad place to be at the moment.

A scrabbling sound at the window caught Emmet’s attention, a humanoid shape huddled behind the curtains. He jumped to his feet as the window slammed open, curtains pushed aside as-

As a teenager rolled into the room.

Or what Emmet assumed to be a teenager. It was a bit hard to tell, as she immediately turned around to close the window behind her- but teenager was Emmet’s best guess. She was a bit on the shorter side with long black hair and a dirty white t-shirt, and when she turned back around Emmet was able to make out large gray eyes. Eyes that grew wider at the sight of him.

“Who-“ “TRAITOR!!” She shouted, before Emmet could get more then a word out. “I HAVE BEEN BETRAYED! FORSAKEN!! FATHER NO LONGER LOVES ME!!!” Dramatically, she crumpled on the ground, limbs splayed and the back of her hand to her forehead.

“Hello to you too Akari.” Ingo quipped from behind Emmet, obviously just coming back from the bathroom. “Why am I a traitor exactly?” “You know what you did!” She shouted, sitting up suddenly- and then pausing when she caught sight of of both Emmet and Ingo. “….ooooor not. When’d you get a clone?” Getting to her feet, she scampered over to Emmet and began to examine him thoroughly, making him feel a bit like a bug. Ingo pulled her back. “This is Emmet!” He told her, a his lips curling up into a little kitty smile. “He is my twin!” (He looked so happy saying that) “Wait really?” ‘Akari’ looked skeptical, and Ingo had to pull her back again before she could enter Emmet’s private space again. “‘Cause I thought you got another illusionist behind my back and I was not going to stand for it.”

“I am Emmet. Not an illusion.” He wished she would stop staring at him. “Who are you?” “Oh my apologies! This is-“ “I am Akari No-Last-Name-Given! Daughter of Nobori No-Last-Name-Given!” She punctuated every word with a dramatic punch or pose, as if she was a cartoon superhero. “I might look small but I’m stronger then you and will beat you up if you hurt my dad!!!” Dramatically, she ended her introduction in some kind of off brand ninja pose- one where she was obviously threatening Emmet.

Ingo looked torn between touched and embarrassed out of his mind. “Akari-“ “Because you coming out of nowhere is super duper sus and Dad is a complete doormat!” “Akari!!” “So if you think I’m gonna just accept you as my unc-“ She let out a high pitched squeal as Ingo grabbed her around the middle, throwing her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Apologies for Akari! She means no harm- she is simply a bit spirited.” “I DO MEAN HARM!!” Akari kicked desperately in an attempt to get free, but Ingo wasn’t budging.

“….You adopted a kid?” Emmet finally managed, watching his brother wrestle with the strange teenager with obvious fondness. “Ah, well, technically she adopted me but-“ “We’re both amnesiacs with superpowers!!! No one can prove we AREN’T related!!!” “I can.” The teen froze for a moment, obviously processing Emmet’s statement, before- “DANG IT!” And Ingo laughed, a loud mighty sound that Emmet missed. He couldn’t help but feel jealous that this strange teenager managed to coax it out of him, that she got to be Ingo’s family while Emmet was still a stranger. …But the thought was stuffed down almost as soon as he thought it. His jealously was stupid and petty, and not earned in the slightest. If he wanted to be Ingo’s family again he needed to work on it- and being jealous of Ingo’s kid wouldn’t help him get back in his brother’s good graces. If Ingo would even allow him to.

“Alright Akari, Emmet and I still have things to discuss. Why don’t you head back home and you can interrogate him another day?” Plopping Akari back onto the floor, Ingo paused for a moment- before giving Emmet a searching look. “…Assuming you would like to return?” “Yes!” Emmet did his best to keep the desperation off of his face. “Yes I would like that verrrrrry much.” “Excellent!” Ingo clapped his hand together in obvious joy. “Now then Akari, if you will please excuse us…” “Yeah yeah whatever.” With a twirl and flourish Akari began walking backwards to the door, flashing Emmet the ‘keeping my eyes on you’ hand gesture. “Watch yourself strange doppelgänger! I ain’t one to be messed with!” And with that ominous statement she bolted out the door.

“….spirited kid.” “Indeed.” Ingo smiled slightly with his eyes, before turning and gesturing back to the couch. “Would you like to continue our earlier conversation? Or would a change of tracks be preferable?” “Please continue.” Hesitantly, Emmet took Ingo’s hand and dragged him back to the couch. “The breaking system? Yes?” “Ah yes, that was it! So as I was saying…”

oOo

Apparently, despite being Ingo’s kid, Akari didn’t actually live with Ingo. She was technically under the care of some other apartment resident, but had the tendency to climb the fire escape and hang out in Ingo’s apartment. Ingo himself didn’t seem to do much actual parenting, but from the few times Emmet saw the two interact it was quite obvious they were close.

“Akari has amnesia as well.” Ingo explained one evening, as the two worked together to cook dinner. (Emmet wasn’t a cook by any means, but Ingo had invited to show him the ropes- and Emmet would never turn down an opportunity to hang out with his brother) “She seemed to see me as a sort of… kindred spirit, and declared herself my daughter.” “She has good taste.” Emmet joked, and Ingo turned away in embarrassment. “I- I would not say that. I am not-“ He shook his head. “It is… quite lonely living without memories. As far as you know you have no friends or family, and are alone in the world.” There was a pause as Ingo gathered his thoughts, the muffled audio of a neighbor’s radio being the only real sounds left. “Meeting you has been… wonderful- like a soothing balm on my soul. You fill a part of me I thought would never be full, and I cannot thank you enough for that.” He smiled slightly with his eyes, and Emmet did his best not to cry. “I believe Akari’s adoption of me was an attempt to fix a similar issue.”

Emmet, well Emmet couldn’t really imagine that. He had been destroyed when he lost Ingo- but at least he knew what he was missing. Ingo and Akari hadn’t had that luxury. “I am glad then. That you found each other.” He fidgeted slightly. “And I am- being with you is also-“ “I’M BACK!” Akari’s cry interrupted Emmet’s stuttered admission, leaving the man cursing his incompetence with words.

“Welcome back Akari!” Ingo called back, bumping lightly into Emmet’s shoulder with an apologetic look. “Emmet and I are almost finished cooking dinner, would you like to join us?” “Eh depends. What’re you making?” Akari shucked off her shoes and backpack as she stumbled into the kitchen area- making sure to give Emmet a distrustful look. “Stir fry.” Batting Akari’s hand away from the vegetables, Ingo does his best to steer her out of the kitchen. “You will need to wash your hands first though. The fire escape is filthy.” “Spoilsport.” She stuck her tongue out at him but did what he said anyway, running out of the room with her arms held out behind her back.

Dinner was in fact almost done, and in no time at all the three of them were seated together at a tiny table. The food was delicious, and Emmet was happy to spend time with his brother- but he wouldn’t deny that Akari’s glaring spoiled the atmosphere slightly. “Be nice.” Ingo scolded gently, tapping the side of her bowl with his chopsticks. “What?? I haven’t said anything!” “Yes, but you are glaring with the heat of a boiler engine on a steam train.” He gave her a firm look. “And as I happen to quite enjoy his company, I would rather you refrained from scaring him off.” “He’s still suspicious.” She grumbled quietly as she finally looked away, pulling her bowl up to her face and glaring at her noodles instead.

Emmet really reeeeeeeally wanted to fire back that he isn’t suspicious, and that he’s here for perfectly benign reasons…. but he can’t. At the end of the day it doesn’t matter that he wishes Ingo no ill will- he’s still Eelektross and he’s still keeping that secret. In some ways she’s right to suspect him.

So he doesn’t fire back, instead asking Ingo about work, all while ignoring the guilt that runs down his spine when Akari shoots him another glare.

He deserves it anyway.

#blue’s writing #WIP #submas #heroes and villains #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #akari pokemon