#i was gonna make a masterpost of evidence and would still like to be i am finding more every week basically | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bluehwale · 1 year

Note

okay so idk if you’re taking requests or not, BUT BUT BUT could u please write ateez as chb demigods (kind of like the jongho one), the scream i let out when i read demigod on the post was a bit embarrassing tbh

also hi new follower 👋 gonna go stalk ur masterlist/s don’t mind me :))

the rainbow thief | demigods! poly ateez au

02 / ‘the rainbow thief’ masterpost / prev / next

summary. eight demigods find themselves ecstatic over finally mustering up enough courage to let you know about their unbridled feelings for you, only to find a threat looming upon them; a rainbow thief that's set out to steal you.

or alternatively,

your best friends are oblivious to your reciprocating feelings.

pairing(s). ot8 demigods! ateez x daughter of iris! reader (son of hades! hongjoong, son of athena! hwa, son of apollo! yunho, son of poseidon! yeosang, son of zeus! san, son of aphrodite! mingi, son of dionysus! wooyoung & son of ares! jongho)

word count. 3.1k

genre. pure crack, angst if you squint real hard until ur eyes close, tons of fluff, literally the dumbest thing i've written help, basically idiots2lovers, ateez are chronic simps to the point where it's hard to watch, borderline unhinged behavior, they are also himbos!

warnings. alcohol intake (wooyoung and his wine), cursing, not proofread sorry </3

note. hi! this has been sitting in my drafts for a long while and i'm so sorry it took so long to be posted (almost d worded bc of my assignments) anyways, i kinda added a spin on this req by making it a poly fic, i hope you don't mind! thankyou so so much for being my first ever request<3 hv a great day!! ily ^3^ ++ feedback would be greatly appreciated pls i need to improve my writing

masterlist

San thinks this is definitely a level nine code red.

To give you an understanding of San’s Catastrophe Indicator, here’s some scale to context; a level eight would be Wooyoung somehow finding out his deepest darkest secret— that he still sleeps with his plushies every night; and a level ten would be getting zapped on the ass by his dad’s lightning bolt (and potentially having to stay in the infirmary for a week). So yes, a level nine is alarming, if not, exceptionally lethal.

It’s been exactly 53 minutes and 46 seconds since San has been watching you enthusiastically converse with an unfamiliar boy who’s sitting a little too close to you for his liking. His heart aches at the way you throw your head back as you let out your endearing giggles and how you teasingly shove his arm while the boy looks over to you with a grin, probably proud of a joke he told that made you laugh.

(It has also been 53 minutes and 46 seconds since the pink haired boy remains frozen behind a tree— the perfect hiding spot, he mused— all the while trembling like a leaf as he struggles to resist the temptation of flying in your direction curled up as a ball to hopefully cannonball the boy off the bench beside you.)

San huffs, he won’t let this be! It’s supposed to be the special day where he and the boys finally let you know about their feelings, and he would rather backflip off a cliff than let this undeniably handsome, seemingly perfect, flawlessly flirty guy who looks like he jumped out of a popular romance anime seduce you!

He falters, however, when he sees you stand up and grasp the boy’s hand to rise along with you.

The poor boy’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he sees you inch closer to the blue haired boy, a pretty smile evident on your face as he then wraps an arm around you, pulling you close while whispering something into your ear that makes you blush.

This can’t be happening!

San’s hands turn jittery as he unconsciously moves away from his hiding spot, needing to get closer to you, his best friend that he’s been hopelessly in love with for years, but he can feel his heart finally breaking when you excitedly pull the boy into a warm embrace.

Snap!

Your head looks up to see San pausing his steps after accidentally stepping on a tree branch with eyes as wide as a deer caught in headlights. You innocently wave at him and San prays that the ground would swallow him whole.

He feels his hands grow clammy as he ungracefully dives behind a trash can to (unsuccessfully) hide himself from you and the unfamiliar boy walking together towards his direction. But of course, with the unmistaken pop of his pink hair, it’s hard not to notice him— especially for you.

“San!”

The demigod curses under his breath when he sees you in front of him and sheepishly stands up to meet your amused eyes. The blue-haired boy beside you stifles a laugh with an unconvincing cough and San thinks he hears the male mumble, “Oh, is this one of them—” before you elbow him on the stomach, cutting him off as he groans.

You pay no attention to the boy beside you as he doubles over in pain to clutch his gut, you turn to brightly grin at your best friend instead. “Meet Yeonjun! He just got here yesterday and, oh, he’s an Aphrodite kid! I think you both would get along pretty well.”

San feels his eye twitch. He tunes out your voice that rings throughout the air as you introduce him to your new friend.

A son of Aphrodite. Your new friend.

Aphrodite. The goddess of beauty and love.

His heart sinks into his stomach.

This might be even worse than a code red level nine.

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“There better be a good reason for San to drag me here in the middle of drafting up my Capture the Flag strategy plans.” Seonghwa, the brain and only hope of the group, crosses his arms and tsks.

The state of an emergency calls San and Mingi (an Aphrodite kid and the first San ran to for consultation) to round up everyone in the infirmary, an unfitting spot to hold their “emergency meeting” but the two boys couldn’t wait for Yunho’s healer shift to end. Mingi taps his feet anxiously when it looks like San’s unwillingness to speak due to his sullen mood means that he will have to be the one to break the news.

Ever the poster child of rationality, he slowly starts, “We think… _____ might be interested in someone.”

“You mean some people,” Wooyoung cackles, sipping his wine from an ‘I LOVE DIONYSUS’ mug as he gestures to his best friends sitting around in a circle. “There’s nothing to worry about, everyone in camp told me she’s 100% gonna accept our confession. They even think we’re all already dating.” The boy proudly smiles, taking another sip of his wine as his stomach flutters at the thought of you.

“She’s in love with an Aphrodite kid,” San blurts out.

Splatters of red wine burst out of Wooyoung’s mouth when San’s words finally registers in his mind, leaving him to stammer and gape wordlessly as chaos ensues with the rest of the boys.

“What are you talking about?!” gasped Seonghwa, any previous thought of his strategy plans immediately forgotten.

“But— but we were supposed to tell her today!” Yunho, ever in tune with his emotions, wails while his hands slap his face to cover his already leaking eyes. “What are we gonna do with the humongous bouquet I requested the Demeter kids to make last night?!” He reaches out a shaky finger to point at the flower bouquet and an equally large teddy bear taking up a whole corner of the infirmary.

Amidst the commotion, Mingi locks his arms around Yeosang who seems to have resigned from his body completely and looks like he’d willingly give himself up as lunch for any nearby sea monster. “Guys, calm down, maybe this is all just a misunderstanding—”

“An Aphrodite kid, you say?” interrupted Jongho, already rolling up his sleeves to relieve his bulging biceps from ripping his shirt apart. “What’s this guy’s name and what does he look like?”

“Jongho, you’re not killing anyone—”

“Mingi’s right,” Hongjoong sighs, eerily calm besides the smoke fuming from his nostrils and his eyes that glint devilishly. “Instead of killing him, making him suffer throughout his afterlife sounds much better, I’ll make sure my dad takes note of him.”

“That’s not what I meant!” interjects Mingi who, still grasping a Yeosang who’s ready to jump up and dash off into the ocean, shoots a desperate look begging for help to the eldest.

“Maybe he’s trying to seduce her into a pyramid scheme?” Seonghwa supplies weakly, brain racking to find any other reason to support the idea that maybe you’re merely close with this person as friends and not because you’re in love with him.

“And why the fuck would he do that?”

“We demigods aren’t immune to capitalism.”

“It’s hopeless,” counters San, shutting everyone else up. They look over to him with furrowed brows and trembling lips, one that matches his own. “You weren’t there– you didn’t see what I saw. She looked so happy.”

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The eight sulky boys toddle around mopily as they pick apart the romance-themed decorations littered around the hidden area you all claimed as your group’s private hangout place. They can’t help but feel dejected over the fact that you— their best friend who they’ve been in love with for years, like someone else.

“Thought I’d find you guys here.”

Speak of the devil.

Their heads snap to find you walking on the path of rose petals they prepared earlier today, dressed in a baby blue mini dress you reserve only for special occasions instead of your usual get up of the orange Camp Half-Blood shirt and jeans. An easy smile rests on your face as you greet your best friends and they can’t help but feel their hearts grow heavier at the sight (except for Yeosang who is too busy panicking over you possibly noticing the ‘We Love You _____!’ banner that is still on display).

“______, what are you doing here?” The glint in your eyes visibly falters at Seonghwa’s question, your excitement twisting into unbridled nerves that settles uncomfortably in your gut when you notice everyone staring at you as if you shouldn’t be here.

Word spreads crazy fast in camp and it didn’t take long for you to overhear about the surprise the boys had planned for you. Although it unsettles you that the boys might be upset at their spoiled attempt of surprising you, you can’t help but feel giddy at the thought of them liking you back after all these years of you believing that your feelings went unreciprocated.

So imagine your confusion when none of your best friends showed up to lead you to your surprise and that, after happily skipping all the way here, you find them hostile in your presence.

“Uh,” you trail off, nervously picking at the skin around your fingernails as you try to gauge their reactions. “It’s just… I didn’t see any of you today except for San. I missed you guys.”

It seems like that was the wrong thing to say as the boys, to your confusion, suddenly broke in tears.

“You can’t say things like that!” Yeosang hiccups, bringing a hand to his face to wipe the steady stream of tears falling from his eyes and earning broken mutters of agreement from the other boys.

"Wha—What?" you stammer, surprised at their reactions. What’s going on?

“You shouldn’t say things like that when you know we can’t have you.”

“What do you mean? Why can’t you?”

“Because you’re in love with someone else!”

You pause. “Huh?” Any trace of your previous nervousness vanished, instead replaced with rejoicement at the thought of them being jealous over you with someone else. You restrain the urge to giggle.

“It’s okay, ____. We understand,” sniffles Seonghwa, clamping his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth who was clinging onto his arm while yelling: ‘NO, WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND!’ It took awhile for the eldest to eventually tackle the younger to the ground, suppressing him by placing his weight over him while Wooyoung continues to let out muffled yelps as he struggles. Seonghwa turns to you and offers a weak smile, the usual shine in his eyes nowhere to be seen. “We’re happy for you.”

You try to contain your amusement. “You are?”

“We are,” Yunho nods, hastily wiping away his own tears to hold both of your hands in his (you can distinctly hear Wooyoung’s muffled scream of ‘WE’RE NOT!’ in the background). “We’ll always be here for you. We’ll always be your best friends.”

“That’s gonna be a problem, though,” you chide lightly, feeling the smile you’ve been trying to mask creep up to your face. “I want you to be more than just best friends.”

It took a couple seconds for the sulky boys to register what you said and when they did, you’d think they’d won the lottery or something (you’re pretty sure Jongho leaped three feet up in the air).

“But what about that Aphrodite kid?”

You turn to Hongjoong in confusion. “What Aphrodite kid?”

Everyone turns to accusingly look at a certain pink haired boy.

San gulps. “Yeonjun,” he mutters. It comes out sounding more like a question than a statement.

“...Yeonjun?” you burst into laughter, uncontrollable giggles escaping you from how ridiculous this is. “We’re just friends and he has a boyfriend. I was even talking about you guys all day to him!”

“Y—you were?” San stutters, already feeling the pointed glares burning on his back. “I—I thought you liked him…”

“I don’t,” you reassure them with a smile. “How could I when I’m in love with you guys?”

Mingi lets out a relieved scream, enveloping you in a tight hug to bury his face in your hair and inhale his favorite scent— the sweet smell of coconuts; you. “You don’t know how happy I am to hear that. We’ve been in love with you too.”

You take a peek from Mingi’s embrace to see the other boys celebrating; Wooyoung’s already chugging down a freshly opened bottle of wine while the rest of the boys are simultaneously doing tiny hops in a group hug and letting out excited yelps. Your cheeks ache from grinning too hard at how cute your boys are.

“_____! We need to go to the infirmary, we prepared something for you!” Yunho excitedly pulls at your arm, just remembering the bouquet and teddy bear for you, separating you from the blonde giant who’s now sporting a pout at you leaving him.

You and Yunho both merrily skip your way to the infirmary with your hands intertwined and pink dusting your cheeks, unknowingly leaving a pink haired boy to meet his doom.

“Aha, who would’ve thought that she’s not actually in love with another guy?” San forced out a nervous chuckle, slowly backing up from his best friends and wishing he could disappear just about right now. “No hard feelings right? Everyone makes mistakes—”

“Shut up. Come here.”

Not too long after, a loud scream rings throughout the camp.

(“That sounds so much like San, don’t you think?” you worriedly ask the boy beside you who’s dwarfed behind the huge teddy bear he’s helping you carry to the Iris Cabin.

“Nah, that’s not San.” Yunho calmly shrugs, his smirk hidden behind the gigantic bear plushie as he thinks of his own revenge against the culprit for his whirlwind of emotions he went through earlier today.)

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INTERLOGUE

BEFORE THE EMERGENCY MEET UP IN THE INFIRMARY…

“Mingi.”

“Huh?” The blonde boy in question looks up to see San barging into his room, looking as if he ran a marathon to Aphrodite’s cabin (which is exactly what he did). “How did you even get inside?”

San ignores his question. “You have a new brother?”

“Oh, Yeonjun?” Mingi nonchalantly asks, missing the way San’s figure goes rigid at his name as he returns to applying black polish on his nails. “Yeah, he just got here yesterday. Cool guy. What’s up?”

“I think _____’s in love with him.”

“What?!”

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hisui555 · 2 months

Text

Hazbin Hotel Thoughts : Alcohol, Part 2 !

Part 1 here (Hazbin Crew)

Part 3 here (Heaven's side)

Masterpost here

So, just for your information. Last post has the record of gathering the quickest notes in the least time. Now that the Vees and other Overlords (but mainly the Vees, let's not kid ourselves) are on this one, wonder how it will fare. I think I already know the answer. Now let's jump to it.

The Vees

While they're all seen having a drink in the conference room, they haven't been seen nor mentioned getting inebriated, so it's mostly speculation from there.

Vox, from his personality, could cycle between "emotional", "nostalgic", and "pathetic", ranging from a hyper, super-excited guy that tries to one-up everyone to a sobbing mess because Alastor left meeeee...! and embarrass himself - well, not much of a change from his sober self, in retrospect. He would hold it relatively well though, have a bit of resilience until the watergates open, but the more Vox drinks, the closer he gets to the "emotional" side of it. On a darker side, he could also be the "violent" and "angry" type of drunk, especially around the middle of the slippery slope : not outright trying to get into fights but sure not stopping once it has started until he has gouged something out of someone, or someone out of something. But I can also see him being the "denying" type, trying to make people believe he's way less drunk than he actually is - he'll hide it well (having practice as a multimedia CEO and colleague babysitter)... for a while. The more he drinks the more cracks in the façade appear, at which point everyone can see he's sloshed even through a blindfold but won't peep a word unless they want to provoke the wrath of the TV man. The next mornings are spent deliberately avoiding eye-contact with him and editing everything out of feed themselves as to not tip him off either, and pretending collective amnesia (or even better : "Oh I wouldn't know, Mr Vox, I was too drunk !"). Blissful ignorance.

Vox would be somewhat around a normal weight, though he could outlast Charlie by a few glasses, but like Alastor if he downs a whole bottle he's done for. The only difference between them is that they would have their hints of tipsyness inverted : Vox would be physically clumsy but able to perfectly rant like Robin Williams with almost perfect pronounciation, while Alastor can keep up no problem on the dancefloor but have his words tying in knots and stumbling upon themselves like the screwiest pretzel. Well, that, and having their gazes slightly out of focus, a looser 100-watts grin and still talking to that poor coatrack in the corner that didn't asked for it - though Vox might be able to better differenciate things from living things, he's just unaware he's asking the wrong person about his pitch sale of demonic baby powder with abestos inside.

Velvette would be the "competitive" drunk, and the "cranky" one. On normal she already thinks everything and everyone is pants-on-head retarded, so a drunk Velvette might be able to dish out so much piling up verbal abuse you'd need wings to stay above it. She'd also be the "susceptible" type : breathe one word wrong and she's at your throat, whether it's someone way more powerful than her or not. Kinda the embodiment of yeah keep your eyes on Napoleon there, she's gonna start something we're gonna finish (absolutely not my 5' arse even when sober with my 6'4" friends in gatherings. Nope. Nnnnnope.) she'll promise to destroy you on every social media platform she mans or owns, and by the time she's right as rain again only remembers half of it. But she WILL want to know what went down, to turn it to her advantage and erase every instance of recorded poor decisions on her part. What's worse with her is that, like Lucifer, you can't really tell she's boozed up : it looks so much like her everyday attitude, only worse (congrats on that) that the only evidence will be the multiplying number of empty glasses and the diminishing levels of whatever's inside the bottles. The only metric you could go by is how fast she snaps when angry - if it's something in the milliseconds instead of the centiseconds, yep, she has a few glasses in her already. She'll still be coherent and girlbossing through it like a champ, busting out moves that would lead an Olympic pro skater into the Paralympics instead, and have astounishing eye for details despite her plastered state, as if it accrued her already good sense of picking up small things (only, again, to remember half of it once the rush goes down).

She'll probably hold better than what her weight and stature suggests, possibly outdrinking Vox, though not to the point of Angel, or Husk. She'll start feeling something around the 15th glass possibly, and by 20-22 is assuredly smashed, but hiding it rather well (undeliberately, it just doesn't really show on her) but I wouldn't want to be around her for the morning after, boy.

Valentino, hoooo sweet mother of god and all her wacky nephews, now he'll be something. As a pimp who regularly uses drugs and his various aphrodisiac/narcotic powers, smoke included, he'll be rather resistant, because he built said resistance overtime, and his lifestyle very much helps with that. He'll hold his own fairly well, but when he reaches the point of being three sheets to the wind, he goes down HARD. A slurry, half-coherent mess that just lets his body do its thing on its own, with bouts of sudden energy before crumbling down in a heap again. Don't ask him to dance unless you want yourself, and everyone else around, ending up in a hospital : him and a drunk Vox could take out everyone in a 10 meter radius during a slow waltz. Given his temperament, Val would hop from "angry" and "violent" type (unlike Vox, he will seek out the fights and shoot at the slightest provocation) to "seducing" and "happy with everything", but the surprising part, methinks, would be that he'd be also a "nostalgic" and "contemplative" type of drunk, and NOBODY expected that one. He'll wax philosophical while downing his 20th glass and musing about life, one elbow on the counter, nursing the drink in his hand, before snapping back to shooting the fucking pianist dead because the tune irritates him. It's really a ping-pong game of states and you better fucking hope he doesn't get to serve, because that curveball is hard to dodge. He also loves the feeling of being fuzzed out of his mind (fuzzed. FUZZED. Two Z, gutterbrains) and riding the wave while it lasts, but he hates having to depart from it and will prolong it as much as he can. Not that his mornings are particularly bad, unlike Velvette above, but because he likes just giving into the impulse and not having to care about pesky things like thinking and managing a business.

He'll need a bottle and a half or two to get completely tanked, and will range from impossible to reason with and be let loose, to semi-casual during his contemplative episodes. Basically, he's like a tornado : you point him in a certain direction opposite to you and when shit stops flying, you hope you're in a better shape than whoever poor schmucks were around at that time. He will 100% confuse people with things, and, as the meme goes in this fandom, try to make out with a lamppost or two, then become angry that it ain't listening to get in the car for more "fun". Hey, I had to say it, it would have been a missed opportunity otherwise.

Other Overlords

Rosie isn't against a few glasses of fine wine (it goes well with liver, as we all know), and very much knows how to keep her composure, but also lets herself get loose a bit. She's the "giggling" type, finding everything charming and funny, but again, don't be fooled, that makes her no less dangerous, just jollier and sillier. Might also say hello to every bird and dog that passes and curtsy to the local squirrel if quite inebriated, but otherwise she can tank it like a boss : expect at least two bottles down, and she'll give Husk a run for his money. Careful with the chop-chop-happy attitude, though. She could also bust out cutting sarcasm that would normally be hidden behind the sober filter, a bit like Treasure Planet's Captain Amelia.

Zestial... doesn't know what getting smashed looks like. He'll stick to his tea, thank you very much, but on the occasion, does enjoy a very fine wine. He'll be the only guy still standing after everyone else is shaking the white sheet, shrug, and go on his way. This ancient and powerful being is above the turpitude of youngsters and their funny, slurry-worded games.

Carmilla, while reasonable, would be a "tired" drunk - if she ever drank herself to this point to begin with. Everything's too loud, she can't find what's so funny about the curtains' motif or the wallpaper, and just watch, trying to blink away her daze, as others make fools of themselves. She's in no mood for fancy acrobatics but might casually pop one move or two in a complete blasé way to avoid that stumbling drunkard. The main difference is that she's slower, a wee bit sloppier, but no less graceful - it's like a different type of grace, one that's more languid, applied, tai-chi like. She might also become something of a terse talker, giving out a few words at a time, expect monosyllables and vague non-committing hums from her. If launched on a topic of interest, blurts out very technical and analytic paragraphs, only to switch back to one word every five minutes once it's done. Wouldn't be very sociable either, and avoid contact on reflex : it's just not her thing.

Next part, Heaven's side !

Again, Masterpost here.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel thoughts #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin vox #hazbin valentino #hazbin velvette #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin hotel vees #hazbin vees #hazbin overlords #hazbin zestial #hazbin hotel carmilla #hazbin carmilla #hazbin carmilla carmine #hazbin rosie #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel zestial #carmilla carmine

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painsandconfusion · 11 months

Note

MORE SHRINK PLEASE

Ask and you shall receive, lovelies!

This scene didn't end up including a failed escape since Whumpee was insisting they'd never try that (evidently they made this deal very knowingly and are accepting the sacrifice), but I still really like ittttttttt.

Lmk if you want a part three!

You're Going to Regret That~

Part One Here

[Drabble Masterpost]

(tw: forced marriage, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, noncon touch, noncon kiss, alcohol consumption, mild mouth gore, blood, arranged marriage, threats, implied future noncon (not gonna happen, but it can easily be read as such))

“You’re going to regret that~”

The phrase hummed in Whumpee’s ears through the entirety of the reception.

Through the smiles. Through the hugs. Through the congratulations.

They’d hidden the trembling of their hand under Whumper’s as the two of them guided the serrated blade down through the soft, sweet flesh of the decadent cake.

Whumper’s mouth nuzzling a kiss under their ear before pulling back.

“What a beautiful couple!”

“You’re going to regret that~”

“I’m so glad this worked out.”

“You’re going to regret that~”

“Congratulations!!”

“You’re going to regret that~”

“Excited for the after-after party, eh~?”

“You’re going to regret that~”

“You’re gorgeous- Whumper’s a lucky guy.”

“You’re going to regret that~”

Echoing and pounding in their ears. Each round a cacophony of regret and trepidation and swallowed-back tears hidden behind a sparkling smile.

Whumper seemed relaxed through the night, dancing and chatting and toasting. Dragging Whumpee into greedy but playful kisses when the crowd’s silverware began clinking against their cups in half-drunken cheers and whoops and hollers, cheering at them for another kiss.

Another. And another.

And another.

On and on for hours. Dancing and spinning and never getting far before Whumper’s hand snuggled around their waist or the small of their back or their elbow or wound into their hair. Possessive in a gentle, socially-appropriate way that not one single person thought strange.

Drowning in a sea of blind spectators who cheered and clapped and threw birdseed as Whumpee’s life was stolen away and locked into Whumper’s possession.

They shouldn’t have done it.

Not the wedding - they’d had no way to avoid that.

The kiss.

The bite.

“You’re going to regret that~”

Whumpee’s eyes squeezed shut, forehead pressed into Whumper’s shoulder during a slow, lovely dance. Trying not to think about what would happen that night. Trying not to worry. Trying not to cry. Not to let anyone see.

Whumper covered for them smoothly, arms tucking them into place there through the slow sway of the dance, murmuring kisses against their hair as if this were just the heartmelting joy and exhaustion of true love come to fruition.

But with every kiss the crowd or Whumper demanded, Whumpee could still taste the blood on their tongue.

They shouldn’t have done it.

Their night was already going to be bad enough, they didn’t need to spend the entirety of their wedding reception staring at Whumper’s teeth - wondering when or how they’d make Whumpee pay for that moment.

They’d almost ruined it.

Almost ruined everything.

But the fear and the anxiety and the defiance had bubbled up at exactly the wrong time. Moments too late.

When those warm, bold words rang rich through the hall - “I now pronounce you legally wed-!” - Whumpee’s stomach had twisted and churned far too much. Ice had dripped through their veins.

They’d kissed back. They’d been good for a for brief moments as Whumper reeled them in and moulded their mouth to Whumpee’s.

But when Whumper’s tongue slipped past their lips, their body snapped into action.

Their jaw clamped down, teeth dragging into the soft muscle until blood smeared between their lips.

It had taken a moment for Whumpee to realize what they’d done. Whumper’s fingers curled tighter against the back of their neck, nails biting in and burning through the skin until they, too, were dappled in red.

Still, Whumper pulled back with a soft, fond smile, arms wrapping around Whumpee instead in a gentle but desperate lover’s embrace.

The blood on their lips had brushed against Whumpee’s ear as the crowd cheered and the bells rang in triumphant celebration. As Whumpee’s blood turned to ice and they locked into place in Whumper’s arms.

“You’re going to regret that~”

[Drabble Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35 @scribbelle)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

#forced marriage #noncon touch #noncon kiss #alcohol consumption #mild mouth gore #blood #arranged marriage #threats #implied future noncon #whump #whump scene #whump drabble #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #yandere #yandere whumper #sand asks #requests

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balanceoflightanddark · 11 months

Note

Well... I don't think that Azula hallucinating Ursa is her first hallucination.

Her reaction is slight initial surprise but then she's immeadiatley just ... annoyed. She isn't shocked or freaked out at all. It's like she's used to it. She talks to the hallucination as if it was just another day. Then she smashes the mirror, like she is fully accquainted with the fact that this isn't real.

That's not the reaction of someone who sees and hears their lost mother for the first time. No way.

(Ofc some people don't like to headcannon in this direction of her having long-lasting mental illness and prefer to think it was just a single breakdown. Which I get and is super fine).

Just thought, objectively looking at the scene, there's no freaking way this was her first hallucination.

It looks like she's been dealing with this for quite some time. And surely alone. She couldn't show weakness to Ozai. And I don't think the royal palace is big on mental health.

;

Headcanon that fits this:

Despite Azula's betrayal of Ozai (lying to him, failing him etc.), he still planned to keep using her because... that's what narcissists do. They use you as long as you can be used. And Azula is super useful! Why would he throw her away after all she did for him? When she is still so desperate for his "love"? When she could still be so very useful to him?

He wanted to keep using her, but when he saw Azula starting to "lose her mind", he decided to ditch her.

Iroh: "She's crazy and she needs to go down"

Ozai: "She's crazy... gotta ditch her. (...) Better give her the throne she never wanted so she doesn't kill me. Lmao if she turns on me im dead this bitch has blue fire, killed the avatar and conquered Ba Sing Se. She different. I still can't read maps and fire only comes out when angry"

...okay. Let me just preface this with saying that Ozai's last sentence is hilarious, is completely in-character, and should be framed.

I should also say that...since we're gonna be going into territory which is a bit of a sore subject for myself, whatever I say is not an attempt to tear you down. I do not believe in that and will try to keep this as levelheaded as possible.

With that said, while I certainly respect your opinion on Azula...I still don't believe that she has a mental illness that results in recurring hallucinations. We only have the one scene and there's only so much we can get from that. And I certainly don't think we should base everything we know of a character over their worst and lowest moment. I know because...I was guilty of that with Zuko.

But I digress.

This masterpost belongs to my dear friend @prying-pandora666 who goes into quite a bit of detail concerning Azula and mental health if you're interested. But the crux of it is, when looking at it from the lens of a professional, we don't have any evidence that Azula was mentally ill. Does that mean she wasn't? No. Of course not. It's just we don't have too much onscreen evidence to make a definitive conclusion.

And even if Azula was mentally ill (I don't think she was and was probably suffering from a mental breakdown), one should be careful to make sure it's not overemphasized to the detriment of her upbringing and Ozai's bullshit. After all, even the best kid wouldn't last too long under his parentage without getting SOME kind of trauma.

As for your headcanon, I don't necessarily believe Ozai was aware of Azula's deteriorating mental state. She didn't show any signs of it initially and he left before things got really bad. In this case though, I'd pin the blame more on Ozai's lack of focus on Book 3. Is it possible he saw the signs? Yeah, and I can believe that. Doesn't make him any less of a scumbag for abandoning her. I'd argue it makes him even worse since he left her when she needed him most after years of presenting himself as the only stable adult figure in her life.

And as a quick aside, can please stop using the "crazy and needs to go down" quote as evidence? Eshasz and Greg Baldwin both said that Iroh was in the wrong there for saying that.

...sorry. I have autism which can be constituted as a mental illness, so I get a little bit tender when discussing this. There's nothing inherently wrong with Azula being mentally ill like so many would say and you're completely within your right to believe she is. My personal advice would be to just...be careful is all. Treat Azula as a person instead of a mental illness, never try to give people the wrong idea about mental illnesses or misdiagnosing characters (especially minors) and you'll be fine.

#azula #princess azula #atla #azula deserved better #azula meta #ozai #ozai's a+ parenting #azula mental illness #anon answered #anon ask #ask answered #ask me anything

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thetarttfuldickhead · 6 months

Text

A Jamie-centric pre-OT3 Christmas story told in 25 short chapters.

Masterpost / AO3

16.

“And with that, it’s all over at Vicarage Road! Watford prevails 3-0 over fellow Premier League relegates Richmond, after a nowadays characteristically lacklustre performance from the Greyhounds. Jamie Tartt had Richmond’s best chance early on in the second half, but failed to capitalize on an elegant pass from Richard Montlaur, and Watford took full advantage of of the visitors’ inability to create anything truly dangerous.”

Jamie went through the motions, shaking the hands of the Watford players and hugging and patting his teammates on the back as he made his way off the pitch, but in his mind he was already back at his house, collapsing into bed and not getting up for at least ten hours. Let sleep pull him away from this fucking shitshow of a game, and the fucking shitshow that had been his visit at Keeley’s place yesterday, and the fucking shitshow that would be the upcoming holiday, because after how things had gone with Roy there was no chance in hell he’d be able to make things right with his mum.

Walking past a mirror in the visitors’ dressing room, he automatically took stock of his appearance, and would have recoiled at the sad sight if he hadn’t been too dejected to care even about that.

Jamie Tartt. The ghost of shitshows past, present and future.

“Don’t beat yourself up, boyo,” Colin said as he walked past him, likely assuming that Jamie’s look of defeat was all down to the actual defeat and the missed goal. “Happens to the best of us.”

“Yeah, evidently,” Jamie muttered, but with such a lack of conviction that it earned him a sympathetic smile and another pat on his shoulder rather than a scowl or eyeroll.

“It was very clumsy of you, but we still would have lost even if you had scored, so it doesn’t matter,” Jan Maas added, and Jamie wondered if it would really count as being a prick if he murdered Jan just a little.

“All right, boys, not gonna lie, that was a tough one, but you know—“ Ted with a rousing speech, and normally Jamie would have done his best to pay attention because that’s what the new and improved Jamie did, and because Ted’s speeches, long and confusing as they sometimes were, actually did tend to leave him feeling better.

But today he just couldn’t seem to keep focus on the gaffer’s friendly drawl, no matter how hard he tried, and he soon gave up. Sat down on the floor and let the words turn into background noise, shapless static, until the silence told him it was time to get up, get changed, get out.

The journey home was a silent affair, a far cry from their ride to Winchester the other day. It had started rowdy and only gotten worse as Declan brought out the hot toddy that his wife had made, and Jan brought out the bisschopswijn that he had bought, and Richard declared that both drinks were sinful waste of good wine and brought out four bottles of a very long French name that Jamie couldn’t remember.

Isaac had only let them have one sip of each offering, because “gonna be lots of little kiddies at the market, so we’re going to fucking behave, yeah”, but that had been plenty to warm them, and they’d descened upon the pitoresque market in an abundance of high spirits and good cheer.

Jamie had found his Mummy a nice blanket, and Roy a boxset of novels in an old bookshop that Sam convinced them to go into. (Well, he hadn’t found the set, Tom had, picking it up and asking, “hey, wasn’t this the guy Roy was obsessed with last year? I sat next to him on the ride to the Sheffield game and he was reading this book he just woulnd’t shut up about. Don’t think I’ve ever heard him talk that much before”, but it had been Jamie who quietly snuck back to the store after the others have moved on to the hot chocolate stall and bought the set.)

Fat lot of good that would do him now.

Jamie picked up his phone and started scrolling down his Twitter feed, hoping for something to distract him from the dull ache in his chest. Not a great idea, as it turned out; him fumbling that goal hadn’t exactly gone unnoticed. To make matters worse, City had won their game against Crystal Palace 3-0, and some industrious little twat had put together a stupid fucking video of Jamie scoring for City last season, him missing his shot today, a reaction shot of him as Watford scored, and City’s celebration of their win at Selhurst Park. imagine going from that to this just coz u wanna eat pussy on tv lmao, the caption read.

Jamie traced his thumb over the skyblue figures jumping and hugging each other as Pep walked among them, handing out cuddles and bum pats. De Bruyne had Paddy in a playful headlock, shouting something jubilant in his ear. Champions, well on the way to securing their fourth League title in a row.

That had been Jamie, just half a year ago. Could have been him still, if only—

But if he’d still been at City, he wouldn’t have had Dani leaning against his shoulder and soring gently as they turned onto Nelson Road. There’d have been no trip to Winchester. And – and that was the only thing that fucking mattered in the end, wasn’t it? – if he’d still been at City, his phone would be blowing up with calls and messages from Dad right about now, and the mere thought of it was enough to turn his stomach.

As if on cue, his phone started buzzing, startling him badly enough that he almost disloged Dani from his shoulder. “Sorry, amigo,” Jamie murmured, receiving a sleepy mumble in response, as he glanced at the screen.

Keeley, again. She’d tried calling him last night, and sent a couple of messages, but he’d let the call go to voicemail, ignored the voicemail, and the messages too.

It’d been fucking stupid of him to think she really wanted to help him with his brand, he supposed. He should talk to her, probably. Just to… Well. He didn’t know. Something.

Jamie declined the call. The coach came to a halt. He went home.

---

Two hours later, after he had dutifully eaten an nutritionst approved frozen meal and almost dozed off in front of Q&A, Jamie was jolted awake by a loud, insistent banging on his front door.

He sat, blinking and scowling towards the hall. Had Roy decided to come calling and yell at him some more? Jamie was not in the mood for that. If he just ignored it—

“Jamie! I know you’re in there, I saw your poncy car out front! Not gonna leave me out here in the cold, are you? Jamie!”

Jamie’s stomached dropped.

It wasn’t Roy. It was Dad.

#we're still on the 'hurt' bit of hurt/comfort #nothing goes well for jamie in this chapter i am sad to report #emotional whump?#kinda #jamie tartt #jamie's christmas carol #fic #my stuff

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scribbling-dragon · 2 years

Text

Adaptive Nature

Chapter 12

Summary:

“It��s ridiculous.” He doesn't care about the way his voice rises, nor about the way his chair screeches as he pushes it back. He ignores the eyes that turn towards them, glaring at him with the accusation of disturbing the peace within the library.

(AO3 Link)

(Masterpost)

(3,125 words)

(hey! hi! can you guess what i’m gonna say? yes? well i’m gonna say it anyway: reblogs help a bunch more than likes and these chapters are gonna start taking longer so it’s super appreciated!)

“No.”

“I- what?” Pixl looks genuinely confused, as though he hasn't just told him something that sounds entirely nonsensical. And he’s listened to his brother devising plans for pranks, so that’s saying something.

“It’s ridiculous.” He doesn't care about the way his voice rises, nor about the way his chair screeches as he pushes it back. He ignores the eyes that turn towards them, glaring at him with the accusation of disturbing the peace within the library. He ignores it easily to watch Pixl, then Tango, then Pixl again as they both struggle to come up with something that might make him listen to their nonsense. He takes a half-step back from the table, before turning his back to it entirely, eyes set on the door out of there.

“Sheriff, wait,” Tango stands too, though his chair doesn't scrape nearly half as loudly, his voice pleading but soft, mindful of the listening ears and watchful eyes around them as the researchers observing them begin to become more invested. “Please, just listen to us.”

“I have listened to you!” He whirls on Tango again, stopping the other in his tracks, hand half-raised and poised to rest on his arm. He shakes the minimal contact off, even as heat flares along his skin at the simplest of touches. “I've listened to you and you've taken me for an idiot!” He snarls at Tango, watching as the other’s eyes darken, glimmering far more dangerously than they had before.

For a moment, he can almost believe that Tango is meant to be a predator of some kind, stalking the overgrown forests of the nether and skulking through the deep valleys of soul sand. For a moment, he can almost see it, but he watches as the burning in Tango’s eyes subsides again, and he just looks sad.

He turns on his heel again, swiftly marching out the door, ignoring the muttering of those he passes and the eyes that linger on him long after he’s moved away from them. He ignores it rather successfully, even as the voices rise to an excited chatter, people whispering back and forth to their neighbour about Tango and how they always knew it would come to this and that he could never keep ahold of them for very long.

It only serves to further stoke the fire of his anger, causing it to roar upwards until all he can what is the rushing of blood in his ears. However, he still manages to hear Tango’s last, rather desperate, call of “Sheriff!”

He ignores it anyway, not even sparing a last glance backwards, slamming the great door behind him and listening to the way it thunders through the empty hallways. One person stops to stare at him, clutching several files to their chest, but they squeak and hurry away the moment he even looks in their direction.

He grits his teeth and marches onwards, trying not to think too hard and only succeeding in making the words swirl around in his head more violently, clashing into each other like it’s a particularly violent storm.

Arrow is happy to see him, at least, as is Bullseye, and he’s rather well-practised in leading a horse while he rides another, meaning he doesn't run into any issues on his journey home. It just leaves him to stew in his anger and grit his teeth so hard that his jaw pops when he releases a bit of the tension.

They took him for an idiot, telling him lies that had them exchanging uneasy looks and shifty glances, as though that isn't evidence enough. Leading him on one long, wild goose chase, only to pull the rug from beneath him at the last moment. He thought he liked Tango, he had been nice to him.

Yet he was taking him for an idiot the entire time. He really should know better by now.

--- --- ---

"Well," Pixl’s voice echoes from behind him. "That could have gone better."

“Could have gone better?” He hears his own voice rise, pitching higher than he normally speaks and tugging at his throat. He continues, uncaring. “Could have gone better? I don't see any way that could have gone worse!”

People are watching him now, their interest in the Sheriff dimmed now that he’s no longer right in front of them, the air no longer shivering with the impact of it slamming shut behind him. He can hear them muttering, something about calling the Head down. He resists the urge to snarl in the direction of whoever muttered “should a netherborn really be in among so many books? It’d be so easy for him to set it all ablaze, especially when he’s in a state like…that.”

He would, but he’s too preoccupied with glaring at Pixl, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, claws cutting deeper with each repeat. Pixl looks far too calm, his face far too neutral and wiped clean for anything to make sense.

“So?” He snarls, voice quieter now, but still no doubt putting on a show for everyone around them, “Do you have anything to say? No defence? Anything?”

“I don't know what you want me to say.” Pixl says, his voice still irritatingly calm, completely unbothered by the fact that the Sheriff just stormed out, fuming and likely set on never seeing them again. Which simply cannot happen if they want to survive whatever the hell’s going on with the sculk.

“Maybe that I was right?” He steps closer, gritting his teeth and swallowing the smoke back down even as it scrapes and scours at his throat, “That we shouldn't have been keeping it from him?” He takes another step. “That he has the right to know?” Another. “That he could have been the one deciding for himself rather than being treated like a child that didn't know any better?” His voice rises again, and a few trails of smoke manage to escape his mouth, spilling out.

He hears several chairs scrape backwards at that, either escaping their imminent doom at his hands, or rushing off to retrieve the Head in the hopes that they might prevent whatever disaster has lodged itself into their brains. Either way, he’s not sorry to see them go, breaking his stare from Pix’s to watch their hasty retreat.

He grins at the one that glances back at him, something preening internally at the way their eyes widen, the whites shining fearfully beneath the lights. Something inside him purrs at that, and he finds himself tracking their movements hungrily, hands curling into claws, watching as the door swings shut behind them.

“Tango.” Pixl says his name with the frustration of someone having said it several times already, and he turns back to him words already bubbling in his chest, anger hot in his lungs as he breathes, smoke threatening to clog his throat as he glares at Pixl.

Pixl wilts a little beneath his gaze, and he wouldn't blame him, but it just makes him more angry, and that small part of himself that he’s never managed to squash continues to preen. He stalks up to him, until they're almost chest to chest, resenting Pixl for his greater height as he has to tilt his head backwards to continue staring at him.

To his credit, Pixl doesn't take a step back, only continues to watch him with wide eyes that betray his fear, feet remaining firmly rooted in place. “I told you,” he whispers, though a hush has fallen over the library, not even the sound of turning pages fills the silence now, “I told you that this would turn out badly. Didn't I?”

Pixl doesn't say anything, and he watches his chest rise and fall, listens to his breathing and his heartbeat. He can hear the way it thunders, quick and erratic in its fear. It thumps like the feet of a rabbit escaping, the overwhelming sense of fear from the other only helping to remind him of the small creature.

Pixl positively shivers with fear, and he drinks it in, leaning closer.

“I knew what I was talking about,” he says, voice dropping, “And yet you didn't take my advice?” He stalks around Pixl, back towards the table they had been sitting at. Pixl tenses as he moves, and he hears him suck in a deep breath, hears it rattling deep in his chest.

He moves on, tail flicking behind him, leaning over the open book. His scribblings in the margins don't fill him with that same excitement, that same passion, as he stares at the image in front of him.

It’s slightly out of his area of expertise, drifting a little closer to the Age of Titans than he had really wanted it to, but he had adapted, he had made do. Adapting was what he did. “Look.” He snarls, gesturing at the book, sweeping a hand over the desk to indicate his other notes, his other evenings spent researching and collecting the information only for Pixl to tell him “not yet” and “he’s not ready”. Evenings gone to waste on a project that wasn't even worth it.

“I did it for you!” He laughs, and even he can hear the crackling beneath it, the way it veers a little too close to a wailing sound for comfort. He sees the way Pixl winces, eyes crinkling with sympathy that he immediately discards. “I did all of this! For you!”

“I know, Tango, please,” Pixl takes a step towards him, “I appreciate it, I really-”

“Then why couldn't I say something?” He yells, tearing his eyes away from the dragon, away from Her purple eyes and gaping maw, Her teeth and Her wings, the way She curls so elegantly around the pillar as though it was made for Her claws to rest in such a way. “Why couldn't I be useful? That’s my point, isn't it?” He grits his teeth until his jaw aches, glaring at Pixl. “That’s my point, isn't it?” Pixl doesn't say anything. “I would have been a researcher if I wasn't more useful elsewhere! I helped you with this because I was useful, because I know the Age of Corruption, because I'm useful.” His chest hitches, but he shoves it down firmly, allowing anger to flood where it had been, boiling hot and threatening to burn the carpet beneath his feet. “Because that’s my point.”

“Tango, please.” Pixl looks close to crying, jaw set in that way he always does when he’s still trying to make a point, when he’s facing off against someone he doesn't want to cry in front of. He feels like he should stop, that the anger has burned long enough. Instead, he wills it to burn a little longer, words he hasn't yet said making his mouth feel sour. Filled with a disgusting bitterness he can't seem to get rid of, no matter what words he hurls at Pixl.

“I don't care!” He yells, glad of the empty library, though he’s not sure when everyone else escaped. He feels like the Head should have been here by now, unless all the other researchers abandoned Pixl to his whims. Cowards, the lot of them, maybe it’s a good thing he didn't join their ranks.

“I don't care.” He repeats, “I was doing this, meeting your Sheriff, because you wanted me to help, because that’s what I'm here to do, yeah? And I didn't mind it, he was nice, he was funny, and he didn't flinch away from me as soon as he saw my fire. Which, let me tell you,” he breaks off into a laugh, “It has been a long time since that has happened. And, yeah, maybe that endeared me to him a little. But that doesn't mean my opinion should be completely ignored- disregarded when I say we should tell him. How would you feel about being lied to?”

“He still thinks we’re lying to him.”

“And? He hates us now, sure, maybe I've just thrown away whatever friendship I had with someone that doesn't look at me with barely concealed apprehension, that doesn't think I'm just a ticking time bomb, waiting to explode in their faces!”

“You're not helping that assumption right now.”

“I don't care!” He screams, wheeling around to face Pixl again, tail lashing behind him. “I don't care! Because the Sheriff thinks we’re liars, and the corruption is so obviously back. And it’s going to kill him, it’s going to kill him and if I hadn't told him, and-” he laughs again, “-don't even tell me you were going to tell him after that, because I know you, and I know you weren't going to. You were content to keep him in the dark for a moment longer, just for your own peace of mind, and now look at what you've done!”

He faintly registers the sound of the door swinging open behind him, even as the person entering has obviously tried to muffle the sound.

“It’s going to kill him,” he says, “Because we weren't there to tell him, because he doesn't believe us. And you know what?” There’s footsteps behind Pixl, and he watches as a hand appears on his shoulder, trying to pull him away, “When it happens,” he lowers his voice to a snarl, keeping his eyes firmly on Pixl’s face, watching for when the blow lands, “It’s going to be your fault.”

Pixl’s face crumples, and that disgusting part of him roars in approval.

--- --- ---

He’s sure everyone noticed his less than great mood when he returned, even if none of them commented on it. He knows that Alyssa kicked several people as they sat around the fire, but he appreciates her efforts nonetheless and carefully averted his eyes whenever she did it.

Lotus was a little more subtle in her approach, standing to his side or sitting beside him and aiming glares at those around the fire when they've had a few too many drinks and their words begin to slip a little more loosely. He notices it out of the corner of his eye, but doesn't comment on it either.

Neither of them comment on it when he enters the half-built office the next morning, with far too little sleep for him to even consider functioning for the full day, very obviously still in the clothes from yesterday. Neither of them comment on it, though they do pull their heads apart from whatever discussion they had been having before he entered.

They do, however, comment on it when he asks for writing implements to pen the response letters to the other empires. He waves their concern off, ignoring their pointed comments about food, and sleep and just generally resting.

He simply takes the pens and paper they hand him, give a short thanks, and walks back out, back to his house. He shuts the door firmly behind him, not locking it, both because the door doesn't have a lock and also because there’s no reason for him to do so.

This means, when Alyssa suddenly appears over his shoulder, watching him write out his latest draft to Chromia, it’s not at all surprising. He pauses, ink blotting the paper and ruining his fifth attempt at a letter, the victims of his last failures strewn across his desk.

“Havin’ trouble?” She asks, and he sighs, pushing back from the desk, even as the chair squeaks dangerously, turning to face her. He has a feeling she won't be leaving until she gets what she wants.

“Something like that.” He responds.

“You had a fallin’ out.” She says, straight to the point and not even bothering to ask it like a question. He stares at her for a moment, wondering whether he should actually respond to her, or simply stare until she gets the hint and leaves. He has a feeling they'd be here all night if he did that.

“Yeah,” he hangs his head, “How could you tell?”

“You've been so…happy, since that archaeologist came around. You've been happy, and it’s been obvious to everyone else.”

“I wasn't sad before then.”

“Yes you were.” He looks up, meeting Alyssa’s eyes. He finds them sadder than normal, dark and as though he could keep looking into them forever and never find a bottom. Falling eternally. “You were happy, sure, but you weren't happy. It’s obvious you've been running from something, Sheriff, and I'm sorry if this breaches your comfort zone, but it’s been obvious that you never stopped fearin’ whatever you were runnin’ from, that you'd fallen so far into the habit of looking over your should you never stopped to think that you should look ahead instead.”

“I- Alyssa.” He sighs, feeling more exhausted than he has in months.

“Sheriff.” She looks at him sadly, but not with pity, simply with sympathy. Perhaps understanding, too.

“I-” he’s embarrassed to find that his voice fails him, cracking on the first syllable and leaving him grasping at nothing, tears welling in his eyes as he simply stares at Alyssa, unable and uncertain on how to respond.

“Oh,” her face crumples into even more of a sympathetic look, and she moves closer, ducking a little to wrap him in a hug. He stiffens, shock overtaking him at the simple closeness of her to him, before slowly leaning into him, pressing his forehead into her shoulder. He’s careful not to catch her face on his horns, bringing hands up to rest awkwardly on her back as she squeezes him tighter.

He only pulls back when his ribs feel as though they're about to crack beneath the pressure, wiping guiltily at his eyes.

“Oh,” she brushes at his shoulder, “You had somethin’ on you.” She pulls her hand back, a small piece of plant cupped in the centre of her palm, shifting as she moves it around, inspecting it. “It’s a weird lookin’ plant, I’ll give you that much.”

He watches, in mute horror, as she pokes at the small piece of sculk, watching as it almost seems to pulse, the air around it rippling oddly. Like heat rising off the ground. She doesn't seem to notice it, though she goes incredibly still a moment later, eyes remaining trained on the piece of sculk.

But it’s dead, or at least not writhing like the other vines had been. And it’s also rather tiny, quite pathetic in comparison to the ones that had tried to strangle Pixl.

“Huh,” she says, “Weird lookin’ plant.” She curls her fist around it again, bidding him a quick farewell and shutting the door behind her as she leaves. He turns back to his letters, beginning his sixth draft and allowing the shred of sculk to drift from his mind.

Not that it matters, anyway.

#juno.writes #adaptive nature fic #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #empires smp fic #tangotek #pixlriffs #team rancher #ranch duo #solidaritek #empires jimmy #empires pixl #empires tango #tango tek #solidaritygaming #solidarity gaming

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cloudywilmon · 1 year

Text

I posted 583 times in 2022

That's 583 more posts than 2021!

94 posts created (16%)

489 posts reblogged (84%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@purplehoodiesimon

@tooindecisivetopickaurl

@angelbabysimon

@prince-simon

@daylightsimon

I tagged 426 of my posts in 2022

Only 27% of my posts had no tags

#ask - 66 posts

#ask game - 41 posts

#anon - 24 posts

#ofmd - 22 posts

#yr fanfic - 21 posts

#yr - 19 posts

#yr fanart - 17 posts

#heartstopper - 15 posts

#wilmon - 13 posts

#yr fic - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#everytime i see them i’m like ok i’m gonna answer this when i have more time to answer it fully and the time never happens i’m so sorry

My Top Posts in 2022:

cl0udy_mi1k fanfic masterpost

Guide

Status

☑ complete ❒ in progress ☒ hiatus

Rating

Ⓔ Explicit Ⓣ Teen Ⓝ Not Rated

Young Royals

stand alone oneshots

get it off your chest, get it off my desk Ⓔ ☑

wc: 6,877

Vincent hasn’t called him to stand since the time with Felice, although there have been multiple nights where Simon has slept over. He supposes that while one can assume, it’s not actually evident that he and Simon had sex during those times (even though they definitely have). There was no mistaking the way they’d left early the night before, however. No mistaking the darkened bruise on Wille’s neck. They’ve already received some smirks from the boys around them, cheekily asking them if they’d had a goodnight.

i find myself running home to your sweet nothings Ⓣ ☑

wc: 2,196

He’d always known Simon was beautiful, to him, it was a universal constant. But now, getting to see him in person, looking up at Wille so openly - eagerly - he was radiant. - Following Wille's speech, he and Simon finally get some time alone together. Post S2 E6.

bloom where you are planted Ⓣ ☑

wc: 12,915

Wille is a plant boy, Simon has a black thumb. They both run semi-popular Instas.

series

darling, you're the one I want

1/2 - i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this Ⓔ ☑

chapters 8/8

wc: 59,633

Simon is Wilhelm's best friend, so when he confesses that he's insecure about his lack of experience Wille offers to help him. After all, it's what any good friend would do, isn't it?

2/2 - i want you (bless my soul) Ⓔ ☑

wc: 15,539

Wille and Simon decide to take another step in their relationship - but first, Wille needs to do some research (off the school wifi this time).

See the full post

36 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

If you want to you could totally post some of your art so that I can share it because I am IN LOVE with ballerina wille 🤭👀 no pressure but I just want anyone and everyone to see your beautiful creation 😇❤❤❤

🥺🥺🥺 i’m so honoured ty

38 notes - Posted March 24, 2022

bloom where you are planted

Wille is a plant boy, Simon has a black thumb. They both run semi-popular Instas. (ao3)

78 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

Some thoughts about Kristina:

We know she grew up as crown princess, so obviously she grew up with all the pressures, but as another layer she would be the first crown princess of Sweden ever. The change to the law of succession making the heir first born child regardless of gender was made in the 80s, so it would have applied when her dad was growing up. If she didn’t have any brothers there’s a chance it might have been changed specifically for her, which adds a whole other layer of pressure. Then, there’s the misogyny aspect of it, where there’s an idea that a woman would make a weaker ruler because of her emotions/ that they would be too emotional to leave. She’s probably had to intentionally tamper down any feelings so people would respect her as a leader and not question her decisions.

She’s also a grieving mother, she is clearly affected by Erik’s loss, but despite losing her son she still has to be the fave of the monarchy. She might be pushing down her emotions even further because if she let’s herself fear all that grief will bumble to the surface. If she lets herself show too much emotion others might question her ability to rule. Her way of protecting herself was to harden and thats what shes trying to do with Wille because its the only way she knows how.

I think she does truly care about Wille but her entire life has been warped by the crown and the pressures of the role, and she’s never really been challenged to unlearn that. In her mind, she’s doing what’s best for him. It doesn’t excuse the ways she’s hurt wille but there’s more nuance to it. She’s also a victim of the weight of the crown, and she’s passing along that weight and trauma to Wille because she doesn’t know any different.

107 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

tumblr_video

Wille’s first day��❤️

111 notes - Posted August 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #so glad my top post was wille’s first day edit 😌#also that tag was 100% about my getting tagged in ask games and not following through i’m sorry everyone

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cheerstotheelites-if · 2 years

Note

Referring to this post

How could the one,from the Willowsberg family, who writes the unsent letters live for so long? I also find strange the huge year gap that starts from the second to the fifth letter but when we go from the fifth to the sixth the writer starts to write frequently again just like the letters from the first->the second?

Theory

It's not a hard to figure out that the writer of the letters is the Magus from the Willowsberg family that caused the incident in 1586 CA which caused the life ban for the family. What I found fascinating is the connection between the one who left the birthday gift to Ophelia's house and this same Magus.Putting two and two together,it's this person (who could have taken the alias Shiki Chikafuji judging by how they have been describing her in the letters in a way that only someone who is inside Lumintoille can).

From Ophelia's birthday prompt

Outside, from the forest behind the Evadane house, a figure watches through the window in between the thicket. They watch as Ophelia smiles when she looks back at the cake and the gifts they brought for her.

The young lady is happy on her day of birth. Good. That’s good…

From the masterpost where Shiki's age is not specified (only theirs is not specified) (i'm not 100% sure if they are Shiki so don't pay too much attention to it)

Shiki Chikafuji (???, NB)

Furthermore there is the missing students which I'd like to inquire more about if they had any part in Ophelia's mistreatments/bullying because if so than the culprit could be this person too judging by this lines on the last unsent letter:

It’s reminding me of our mistreatment centuries ago, and there are many instances where I have to hold back from strangling the perpetrators. I have stepped in to defend the miniature you countless of times, but it only seems to make the mistreatment worse for her.

So, I have taken it into my own hands. I’ve taken this opportunity to try the spell I’ve discovered on the perpetrators, but all of them have been a failure so far, unfortunately.

if this theory proves to be right than there is more to look forward to regarding Ophelia. I can't believe how intricate you can be when it comes to your story. Everything is connected like a spider's web.

The cackling fit I just had while reading this. Good lord those are great theories. Anon truly did their research holy shit

I am very tempted to say which theories are wrong and which ones are right, but I'll leave it hush hush for now because BOI would I have a lot of explaining to do and you know, spoilers. There's still more evidence and clues that will reveal themselves in the IF and you're gonna need more red strings and a bigger corkboard.

And yes, everything is in an intricate spider web! I always love the idea of connecting things and ideas to one another to make an even bigger picture.

The stuff here in this IF isn't the only ones being connected, but all my other IF's are connected as well, not just in the world and timelines, but everything else that will come.

My world is just a huge domino effect of consequences and actions that fall into one another.

Oh Ophelia

You've been on my mind girl since the flood. :]

#:]#yall keep sending theories #I love reading them owo #theory anon

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kyliafanfiction · 1 year

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Hello! How are you? Kind of random but I somehow stumbled across an older post of yours about your head canon sexualities for BtVS and AtS characters, and I was wondering if they still held or if they had changed over the years? A lot of them made sense to me but perceptions can shift over time so I was curious if you still felt the same.

Okay, so 1) If you're going to respond to a specific post of mine, I would appreciate you including links or Post #s or something. In this case, I do remember making a big sexuality masterpost and mostly what was on it, but I can't find the post in question despite spending the last few hours looking for it on and off between customers. So if I didn't remember that post fairly well, you'd be SOL in getting an answer to your question.

2). No They haven't. Because the canon hasn't changed. My views on the characters orientations in that sense is "this is what I interpret to be the case in the canon" (except in the case of Amy, more or less). I don't do headcanons like a lot of people on tumblr do, where they'll just throw sexualities, gender identities and neurodivergencies they like at characters they like just because. (This is... not entirely fair, but really, sure how it looks like sometimes).

This isn't to say I don't sometimes go 'oh, there's an interesting prospect for a story' when it involves say, Buffy and Tara as a ship. I've read a few interesting looking Buffy/Tara fics, despite reading Buffy as straight. Hell, I even read Xander/Tara fic despite Tara being super duper gay in canon. Most don't work for me, but they arent all bad per se. I've even written oneshots or the like for Buffy and Cordelia as a ship, despite thinking both are straight.

I've even written longer works that do this. One is just shameless smut and isn't meant to be taken too seriously (The Nymph's Kiss) in which both Buffy and Cordelia are bi for the purposes of the fic I want to do there. Another (Next Year's Girl) has Cordelia be bi because I wanted to write a fic where Xander got bodyswapped with Faith and then stuck in her body, but I'm also a diehard Xandelia shipper so. (I also have three other fics in partial stages of planning that feature Xandelia as a ship but with a Bi Cordelia because Xander is genderbent in some form. This is a premise I quite like, when done right, and have for a long time, I've only relatively recently been willing to actually write it because I've reached the 'fuck it, write the idfic' stage)

But ultimately I still think Cordelia's canon orientation, the orientation of the character that we see on the screen, is heterosexual. When we're talking about the baseline, canon, common to us all Cordelia, I think she's straight. Same with Buffy. Same with Xander (though I'm unlikely to write a fic where Xander likes guys because I'm just not generally interested in m/m fic)

In the context of specific fics or Aus or Whatever, then yeah, go crazy and I'm never gonna dictate other people's HCs, but I tend to go with what's onscreen or what's justifiable from the provided evidence and work from there (and I tend to be conservative - small c, not in a political sense - with how much I read into things, whereas some people will read a lot into things. Generally, if a character doesn't show any specific signs they're not straight, I assume they are)

So no. They haven't changed. And why would they? Canon is still what it is.

#Asked and Answered #Sexuality Headcanons #I am still a bit baffled you're asking this but there it is

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louisisalarrie · 5 months

Note

Not that many high profile celebrity fathers take paternities that I know of, or make them public. Louis is a but more private than other celebs, so I can imagine he could’ve just thought it was no one’s business. But there could be something else, like Brianna initially being meant to be a surrogate mom for Louis and Harry but something went wrong. Also, the photoshop “evidence” always seemed flimsy to me at best. I remember when lesbianslovelouis made an instagram account and bought a doll to prove Freddie was one but you could very much tell the difference between the doll and the real baby.

hey anon! lovely to hear from you.

i’ll try and keep this in order of what you’ve sent me. You can also find a great resource of BBG here, and many other of these breakdowns are available on YouTube, along with some bigger masterposts here on tumblr. Check these out for way more detail than I can pull together right now: 1, 2

1. Paternity tests and why they matter to BBG

Firstly to this, Louis is a high profile celeb who had a one night stand with a non famous girl he met that night (as the story goes), and knocked her up. If it was truly a one night stand and they’d just met, how was he sure F is his? Was he just gonna hand over money and support this kid and have him in his life with no paternity test? Hell, even if he did have a paternity test and it was his (hypothetical and not what I believe), why wouldn’t he just say “hey, I’ve taken a paternity test and he is mine, I’d appreciate privacy during this time” etc, because there was so much scrutiny about it, that if he wanted to lay those rumours to rest, he could have. BUT, that doesn’t keep the fans and general public talking about it, and therefore, he gets lost in the news. It’s all PR baby.

You are right, he is a very private person and has stated before he doesn’t like to post his personal life on social media. So, if the kid is his, why is F in the spotlight so much? In a film that’s meant to be strictly about Louis’s career for the world to see? Posted on Instagram and shoved in the public eye? It doesn’t add up with his values why he would keep a paternity test private, but broadcast the kid everywhere (or these days, allow his sisters/B’s family to post about him).

Paternity tests are provided to the general public to keep the celeb a) in the news, and b) to clear their image of being dragged into a scandal and encouraging fans to leave by seeing how much their fave celeb is undesirable/unattainable. Louis’s image was draaagggeddd through the mud, making this whole thing seem like he was fucking everything that walked, and knocking up girls at the club without a care in the world, far from his image in 1D. It wasn’t keeping the fans thinking “wow that sounds like the guy I’d wanna be with”, it was grossing them out and not wanting to really be involved with louis after this news broke. It was messy as hell back here when it all broke, still is. But damn, it did NOT make him look like the louis we all know and love. You can find a brief list of Celebs who have had their paternity tests revealed to the general public here, and I’m sure there have been many others.

2. The case of Briana and the surrogacy for HL

There have been a few really great posts about this in the past debunking it, and it seems pretty ridiculous now. I genuinely clutched at this idea to keep from believe BBG very early on when the news broke, so my heart didn’t. However, a couple of things I think we should think about are: why B? She lives across the world from their families. H+L have always been very family oriented, and that simply doesn’t add up for me. Secondly, the timing is super off. I don’t see them having a child at that point in their careers, knowing that they’re gonna continue travelling the world and won’t be a part of their kids life as much as they’d like to be, particularly when he’s so far away from both their families, so even they can’t look after him. Thirdly, if it truly was theirs, and it ended up being covered up as a scandal this way, F wouldn’t be in the public eye. It’s just not the case.

There is far more evidence to the fact she did a surrogacy for her mum as she was a patient in a fertility clinic a bit before this “one night stand” went down, and you can find that (and some other interesting stuff) here.

3. Doll vs Photoshop

Ahhh yes, I also remember the doll thing hahahah. Look, I think we were clutching at straws with the doll thing because it was insanely wild news and we just… couldn’t believe it. Didn’t believe it. So there were a million theories at the time to try and debunk it, including this doll one. It was a little convincing at the time because it’s what we wanted to hear and we were hoping this was just a short stunt, and we knew that louis wouldn’t broadcast an infant into the public eye like that if it wasn’t a stunt (which he largely has no control over what content is released during this), but I think largely, we really hated that a kid was gonna be dragged into this. We still do. I feel sorry for F, and I really hope he grows up and lives a happy life despite his position he is in now. There certainly is some evidence re the photoshopping, so check my links in the top of this response and hopefully you can find what you’re looking for.

Thanks for reaching out and hopefully this helped! If you wanna talk more, don’t hesitate to shoot me some more asks. Those masterposts cover just about everything though. BBG doesn’t add up, it never has, never will.

#anon #answered #xx

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lightanddarklove · 2 years

Text

SVTFOE - Dress Torn and Battle Worn Chapter 1

While needing a break from a very long crossover project, these scenes kept nagging me and I had to get them out. The story is complete but I felt like splitting it into two parts.

My writing masterpost includes the link to my AO3 page, which you can read this on there if it's easier. Part 2 will likely be uploaded to there first.

Some not technically canon notes: I picked the date of Stump Day being the first of the month of Torax, but it could be any date between December 22 and January 20 according to the canon Book of Spells. All the months Tom lists are from that book, and in reverse order (yes, Mewni has 14). I also think that Star's wings would likely be very sensitive, but there's no actual evidence of that unless we get some images inside "Mewberty and You" at some point, which is unlikely.

In addition to more writing, I've also been working on a sideblog related to some Star vs edits, if you're at all interested you can see them here

Rated T. Warnings: Blood and Stitches, alcohol mention

Star, Marco and Tom have just watched Eclipsa leave with the wand. They've all made some impulsive choices today, and it's time to talk things out. On the way to get their injuries checked, anyway. They're arm in arm, sore and tired. But they're all together. It'll be okay. Post-Episode s3 ep 38 Conquer. Minor TomStar. Two-shot.

The slow balloon-like squeaking of the Mewmans who had lost their souls being revived was the only noise as Eclipsa floated through the air in the distant night. Tom looked at Marco who had fallen over in shock. Star had barely moved since Glossaryck had floated off after Eclipsa. Tom approached the pair and Marco tilted his head back to look at him.

“You okay, man? Need some help?” He asked Marco. Star turned back to her boyfriend with concern.

Marco admitted, “I'm sore but I'm alright,” pushing himself to a seated position. “What about you two?”

“Yeah, Tom, she hit you pretty hard. How's your head feel?” Star asked. Tom walked to the front of Marco.

“Oh yeah, I could definitely use an ice pack,” Tom replied casually to Star before reaching a hand to Marco. He smiled teasingly at him, “but I'm not the one still on the floor.” He pulled the human teen to his feet. After he was sure Marco wasn't going to tip over, he turned his gaze to Star. “I only came to when that big bubble went over Meteora, so I didn't see you fighting her, but you're pretty banged up too. You want some help getting to the infirmary?”

“Oh if we go,” she maintained with an accusing tone, pointing at him, “you're definitely getting checked out too. Just cause you're not slurring your words doesn't mean you didn't get concussed.”

“Alright, alright,” he assured, putting his hands up defensively. “I won't put up a fight. Let's get moving.”

Marco looked back at the Mewni guards and staff who were coming back to life after having their souls restored. Most of them were either just waking up or conversing with the others, so it didn't seem like any had noticed the teens edging their way toward the stairwell off the side of the throne-room. Marco trailed the other two for a moment, catching up just in time to see Star stumble. He grabbed her shoulder to steady her. “You okay?” he asked and Tom stopped in front of them on the first step of the stairs.

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh, “I'm just starting to feel it a bit more. It's fine.” Marco let go of her.

“Sorry, not buying it,” Tom insisted, stepping up to Star's left side and sliding a hand across the back of her shoulder.

“Ah! Watch the wings,” she squawked.

“Sorry,” Tom muttered. He adjusted his arm so that one hand was under her armpit to keep her steady without brushing her wings.

“Okay, I see a problem with this,” Marco interjected, his hands on his hips, and the other two turned toward him. “If Tom loses his balance, who's gonna make sure you don't go down with him?” Star and Tom looked toward one another. “Me, that's who,” he answered his own question and put his own arm just below Tom's, standing on the opposite side of Star.

“And I'll just fall myself, is that it?” Tom deadpanned.

“Hold the banister and I'll take the far wall. We all go together and we should be fine,” Marco replied.

“Is this really necessary?” Star asked dryly.

“If you are just starting to feel the adrenaline wear off now, you can bet you'll be hurting by the time we get there,” Marco explained. Star gave a resigned groan. She put her arms over each of the boys' shoulders. Marco lead with his right foot and the other two followed his step, the trio shortly getting into the rhythm as they made their way down the two fights of stairs.

“So what exactly happened? I mean I saw Eclipsa leave with the baby but that's basically it,” Marco asked.

“She was waiting for me in the throne room,” Star began.

“Unfortunately I got there first, and she knocked me clean across the room,” Tom interjected, gesturing a punching motion with his free hand.

“She bragged about how punching you was so much easier than sucking your soul out,” she remarked flatly.

“Oh yeah, real nice of you to add that detail,” Tom snarked back.

“My guess is that's why she was so much bigger?” Star asked.

“Unfortunately that's what happened while you were in the Magic Realm,” Marco answered.

“They're all back, but I lost a bunch of 'em to her when you were gone,” Tom added.

“After that, I kept throwing everything I could think of at her and she was not holding back,” Star continued. “Once she blasted me mid-spell, she pinned me against the wall and I tried to reason with her. It didn't work. I kept a barrier up to keep her soul sucking beams away and I let all my power out in one big blast, which is what brought the roof down. Also scratched myself up with the debris, but she was pretty weakened by it. It still wasn't enough though, and I was out of magic. If Eclipsa hadn't escaped earlier and grabbed the wand, I would have been baloonified too. She protected me.” As Star was talking, she leaned slightly more on Marco as they made it to the bottom of the steps. “She tried to talk it out, but she had to use this spell with put Meteora in this giant purple bubble, and when it collapsed, it just looked like rags in the center of a crater.”

“So that wasn't supposed to turn her into a baby?” Marco asked with confusion. The trio continued into the hallway leading toward the infirmary.

“I think she wanted it to, but she thought it didn't work at first,” she replied. “That's why she was so upset. And why I thought it was only right to give her the wand.”

“I mean, I get it, sorta,” Tom remarked. “You said it had been the Commission who changed your family history, but this isn't gonna make your folks happy.”

“I know. I just couldn't live a lie anymore,” she spoke softly before pausing, looking down. “This doesn't change anything between us, does it?”

“Are you kidding?” Tom blurted out. “If you think us dating was for political reasons then I think you're the one who hit your head.” A beat of silence passed. “You did hit your head too, didn't you?” He asked, deadpan.

Star began limping as they continued. “I got slammed against a wall but it mostly got me in the wings and back,” Star replied.

"Yeah? Then what's that scratch by your ear?" Marco asked, pointing at a cut on the edge of her jawline.

“I made the roof fall on me? Ya didn't think that'd to this?” She snarked. She leaned back slightly to look Tom over, causing the other two to slow their pace. “That is one big bump you've got on you, boo.”

Marco looked back as Star leaned more forward again. “I think that's more than a goose egg of a lump there,” he remarked.

“Shut up,” Tom grumbled.

Star took another step with her bad right leg and pursed her lip. “You sure this is enough help?” Tom proposed, looking to her with concern. “I can carry you the rest of the way. It's not much further.” She huffed.

“Neither of you are in good enough shape to carry me right now,” she pointed out. “I'm not getting carried with one of you holding my shoulders and another holding my feet like a drunk person.”

“I'm not that bad,” Marco replied.

“It's undignified,” she continued, ignoring Marco's comment.

“Dude, you feel like twenty feet onto your face. I think you need to get looked over too,” Tom interjected.

“What?” Star barked, staring at Marco.

“The dress absorbed most of my fall,” Marco argued. “My hands are a little scratched up but I haven't had any double vision or nausea, I think I'll be okay.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Tom remarked with a doubtful tone.

“How am I the one who can't keep walking without help and you two were—”

“Let's not play this game, Star,” Tom cut her off. “We're here.” He stepped away from the other two, over to the infirmary door and pushed it open.

Star's limp had gotten steadily worse but Marco had no trouble getting Star through the door. Curtains hanging on rods between cots lined the long walls of the room, each cot having a modest wooden end-table near the head of the bed. The room smelled of lemony cleaning product and the checkerboard blue and lighter blue floors looked spotless. By the outer wall, painted a pale purple, the window had been shattered and a large piece of stone had crumpled one of the beds into a jagged pile of metal and fabric, but a rope stanchion blocked the bed off from the others. Near the right side of the door, in front of a tall cabinet sat a desk and desk chair. A short, middle aged woman with purple hair in a tidy bun walked around the desk as Star and Marco entered.

“Acting Queen Star?” The Mewman woman asked. She wore a white button up and light grey skirt with an apron tied in front, emblazoned with Moon's diamond insignia. Her tan skin on her hands showed her age more than her face did. “Oh my, what happened here?” She reached out for Star's left hand and examined her still-bleeding elbow.

“Got a little banged up fending off Meteora,” Star said tonelessly. “These two, too.” She jerked her head back to Tom who walked into the room behind the pair.

“Prince Thomas? Oh corn, let me get the others,” the woman stepped away from Star for a moment, dinging a bell set on her desk. Out of a side room, marching through with in-sync steps were two more Mewmans, one man and one woman, in similar dress as the first. The man was lean and tall, had dark skin and short-shaved black hair, and wearing pants instead of a skirt. The woman was about Star's height, fair skinned and older than the others with dark gray braided hair and oval glasses.

“Mister Jeffery, please see to Prince Thomas,” the purple haired Mewman directed, stepping around the first cot and pulling the curtains around it. “Come over here, you two. Are you hurt as well?” she asked Marco. “What's your name, young lady?”

“I'm Marco Diaz, Star's squire,” he replied quietly.

“Apologies for misreading you, young man,” she said.

“'S fine,” Marco answered. “I dressed this way on purpose to lure Meteora.”

“And yeah, he needs to get checked out too,” Star interjected, hobbling toward the first cot. Star sat down as Marco stepped away.

“Miss Lorna? Please see to Marco,” the middle aged Mewman remarked. Marco turned toward the other woman as the first pulled the curtains fully around Star's cot. “I'm Miss Abigail. You seem to be quite cut up. Are you in a lot of pain? Is there anywhere that hurts worse than anywhere else?”

“There's the one on my leg and another on my back that hurts more than the other spots.”

“You're going to need to get out of that dress then, Your Grace,” Abigail informed her.

“Right,” Star replied reluctantly.

Marco followed Lorna to one cot as Jeffery instructed, “Please come this way, Your Highness.” The two teens sat in cots next to one another as Jeffery drew the curtain between them.

“So,” Lorna began, “how did you get these injuries? And are there ones less obvious underneath your... clothes?”

“I fell when fighting Meteora. Mostly it's my hands, face and a bit on this shoulder,” he answered, moving his injured shoulder slightly toward the Mewman.

“Can you get just the shoulder out so I can take a look? Or do you need help out of the dress?”

“Uh yeah, the zipper's right there,” he replied, pointing to the back with his right hand. “I could probably do it but my hands aren't in the best shape.” The medic stepped up beside him, sliding the zipper halfway down to reveal his red hoodie scrunched into the dress. Marco slipped his hands through his sleeves and pulled the jacket off over his head, setting it down next to him. He tugged his t-shirt sleeve to the side so Lorna could get a look at the bruise.

“It doesn't look too serious,” she mused, prodding it gently. Marco twitched his right arm and but otherwise didn't react. “Let me see your hands.” He turned his palms upward, revealing the scratched heel of his hands and fingertips. She scrutinized the scrapes. “They're not still bleeding, but lets clean them up and get them wrapped.” The medic walked over to a nearby sink and pulled out a cloth from the cabinet, running it under the tap. She stepped back to Marco and began wiping down the cuts with the warm cloth.

“Prince Thomas,” Jeffery remarked. “Please let me take a look at that shoulder. Do you need help getting the pauldron and chest-plate off?”

“Nah, I got this,” Tom replied, reaching between the pieces of armor and unlatching it. He caught the pauldron before it hit the floor and set it next to him. He reached down to his back and worked at doffing the chest piece. The tall man spared a glance to the lump on the back of the princes' head, frowning as he leaned closer. Tom felt himself tense under the Mewman's gaze.

“Could you tell me how you got this bump, Your Highness?” The medic asked.

Star spoke bluntly over the rustling of her clothes, “He got punched across the room and hit his head against the wall.” Tom let out an agitated groan.

“This is true?” Jeffery asked.

“Yes,” Tom relented. The armor finally came apart, the chest-plate falling onto his lap. He set it aside.

“Were you knocked unconscious by this strike?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Any balance issues or double vision?”

“No.”

Across the room, Abigail instructed, “Those leggings will have to come off or be rolled down, Your Highness.”

“Socks are okay?” Star asked.

“If you didn't injure your foot or ankle, then that should be fine,” she replied. Star slipped off her shoes, each making a quiet tap on the floor as they came off. As she rolled her leggings down, Abigail added, “Slide the slip out of the way too. I'll get the cleaning supplies and see what needs to be stitched up.” She left the curtained off area as Star finished getting undressed.

“I'm going to ask you answer a few cognitive aptitude questions, if you would, sir.” Jeffery informed Tom.

He sighed, “it doesn't sound like I have much of a choice.”

“Your full name?”

“Thomas Draconius Lucitor,” he answered, and Marco held in a laugh, trying not to move as Lorna wrapped his fingers.

“Please recite the months of the year in reverse order, starting with this month,” Jeffery instructed.

“Spleenax, Gravnogk, Sagnog, Norvath, Torax... oh, Mondarn, Skweg, Ooag, Squartuk... then Dartuk, Grevanz, Thurq, Qork and Zameranor. Did I miss any?”

“No, that's correct. The first name of the Butterfly King is...?”

“River.”

“When is Stump Day?”

“The first of Torax.”

“Continue this pattern: 3, 9, 15, 21 and?”

“27, 33, 39, 45.”

“Good. You passed,” Jefferey replied, nodding. Tom gave a unenthused sigh. The medic lifted Tom's shirt to look over his shoulder and the bruise was faint there. “Any pain there?” he asked, pressing down lightly.

“Nah, that's fine,” Tom answered. Jeffery shifted his hand to Tom's midsection, where Meteora's fist had connected and left a large bruise.

“Hurk,” Tom uttered, a quiet pained noise. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

“Are you going to be sick?”

“No, that's just real sore,” he replied, voice strained. Jeffery lifted his hand and Tom's posture relaxed. The medic reached out to the scratched horn but Tom put a hand out to stop him. “I don't like those touched,” he growled.

“Yes, sir. Let me get you an ice pack from the other room,” Jeffery remarked, heading back toward the back room.

“Just the last plaster for your forehead and you'll be done,” Lorna coaxed Marco. “Do you want anything for the pain?” She unpeeled the bandage from its packaging and stuck it to his head.

“I'm good,” he replied.

“Then have a seat over there,” she said, pointing to a row of four seats near the front door. He picked up his hoodie and tied to to his waist. He crossed the space and sat, looking back to the curtained off area. He slid back into the dress sleeves but didn't try to zip it up. Lorna pulled the sheet off the cot he had been sitting on and put it into a laundry basket, pulling a fresh one from the tall cabinet from behind Abigail's desk.

#Star vs the Forces of Evil #star vs the forces of evil spoilers #fanfiction #svtfoe fanfic #Star Butterfly #Tom Lucitor #Marco Diaz #tw: stitches #alcohol mention #Conquer #Divide #minor tomstar #canon compliant #dialogue heavy #misgendering technically as Marco as of canon uses he/him #but to me he reads me as someone who has stopped caring about it

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hoebiirama · 3 years

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✑ User @oscurolibelle sent : Hoebiirama, do you think Tobirama is touched-starved and craves intimacy (not necessarily sex) or his sensory makes him so sensitive to people that he'd rather not touch or have intimate moments? Discuss?

✑ Anli's useless comment : Downright best request I'll get on this blog, ever. I literally talk about this same exact topic almost every day with my friends to the point where analyzing Tobirama's psyche from what very little information we have to protect him against Uchiha apologists who completely misunderstand his character is an actual hobby of mine. Obviously, I can't claim that I'm right because only Kishimoto knows the truth, but... just know that this has been a long time coming lmao.

Masterpost | Rules | Send a request | Works in Progress

千住扉間 • Senju Tobirama

SFW

↳ Before I answer this question officially : from what I observed about Sensory Types in the Narutoverse, I don't think it necessarily makes them more sensitive to touch than others. In fact, it looks like it's an active ability that they have to focus their chakra on rather than something passive. The only times we see Tobirama use his sensory abilities are when he's checking how many ninjas are coming their way by touching the ground, and when he is told that Madara is back and spends like, 2 seconds concentrating before confirming that he can feel his chakra outside. So I don't think his sensory abilities work the same way Hashirama's regeneration works. He has to actually use chakra and focus on his surroundings for it to work.

↳ Now, for the real answer—which is based on entirely 0 canon evidence and is just my own view on his character—Tobirama absolutely is touch-starved, and to the point where it's not even funny.

↳ The only problem is, he's not aware that he is. Being touch-starved doesn't mean he's actively looking for closeness with someone. In fact, I don't see him being a hugger at all, and the only person who has ever hugged him was probably Hashirama.

↳ Which means he was very likely just squeezed very hard and never experienced a real hug, so he doesn't really know what to expect of it.

↳ Tobirama isn't a touchy person in general, so he never sought to know what it feels like to be held by someone he loves.

↳ Until his s/o came along.

↳ I'm gonna go off on a small tangent here, but I headcanon Tobirama as demisexual/demiromantic, which means he needs to already share a deep emotional bond with someone before he falls in love with them.

↳ But when he falls in love, he falls hard. Like Uchiha love level of hard (which is why he's the only non-Uchiha character who can actually understand this phenomenon and explain it to Sasuke, but that's not the point).

↳ Him needing this kind of bond also means that intimacy is extremely important to him. So the first time he can share that type of moment with his s/o, when it's just the two of them, and they hug him, it's like his whole entire world shatters.

↳ After the initial shock—which probably won't surprise his s/o, since he never initiates any kind of physical contact to begin with (he's so not used to it that he kind of... forgets that it's something he can do to show affection to someone else)—where all he does is stand completely still, frozen in place, stiff as a steal pole and not being able to process what the hell is happening, his arms would immediately close around his s/o without him realizing it at first.

↳ And he wouldn't let go. He physically wouldn't be able to. He wouldn't get visibly emotional, but it's obvious that he's shaken, and he'll welcome that hug like he would his little brothers if they were to miraculously come back to him.

↳ He's almost pulling a Hashirama on his s/o by nearly squeezing them against his chest, except his hold is a lot more comforting than his brother's Venus Flytrap of a hug.

↳ However, even after the discovery that he's kind of a whore for being held, I still don't see him initiating physical contact very often. He feels extremely awkward doing it because he still has to unlearn the fact that this isn't forbidden, and it's going to take him YEARS to do so.

↳ But he won't ever reject his s/o's affection. He might whine if they hug him in public, because he's a very private man and it just doesn't feel the same when other people are surrounding them (intimacy truly is key), but he'd let them hold his hand without a fuss.

↳ He'd actually like holding hands with his s/o while walking through the streets. It's securing, to know that the person he loves is right there by his side, to feel them and know that they're okay.

↳ Slight NSFW, but I had to mention it : the only time physical displays of affection come entirely from him is after sex. He finds that he's a big fan of cuddling afterwards, the skin-to-skin contact making him feel even closer to his s/o.

↳ Personal headcanon of mine : Tsunade learned to show her affection by giving people forehead kisses from Tobirama. He took a habit of kissing his s/o's forehead to say goodbye before he leaves for work or a mission, or simply to thank them for being so patient with him.

#tobirama senju #tobirama headcanons #naruto headcanons #tobirama

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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ANOTHER TITLE

a/n: personally i’ve been waiting for this part to come since the beginning lmao, so here is the proposal finally!! it’s like so fluffy, almost disgustingly, but i just couldn’t help myself

pairing: Sebastian Stan X Reader

word count: 1.8k

This fic is part of the LITTLE ONE series, but can be read as a simple oneshot as well! Find the masterpost of the series HERE!

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

You’ve been eating like a hormonal teenage boy these past weeks and you know it needs to stop and held under control, but you just can’t help yourself. It’s like your stomach has become a black hole that needs to absorb any and every food that’s home, you’re constantly snacking beside the large portions you eat three times a day, there’s always something you’re craving, the shopping list on the fridge is changing every hour because you think of something else to eat.

Luckily, you haven’t gained that much weight besides the noticeable bump that’s your baby in your belly, seems like your little girl does need all the food and she uses it instead of letting it all get stuck on other parts of your body, so you’re fine for just now.

Sitting on the couch, watching some kind of soap opera, you’re snacking on an entire jar of Nutella this time, shamelessly stuffing your mouth with the sweet, thick stuff, pretty sure that nothing will be left of it by the end of the day. Sebastian is away again for his second filming that was scheduled even before you found out you were pregnant and he messed around with it a little, shortening it once again and you just visited him last weekend. Now that you are pushing the end of your second trimester, your bump is quite evident, not something you can hide easily, so when you showed up on set with your boyfriend, you didn’t even try to cover it up, knowing well someone would spot it sooner or later. However everyone on the team has been so respectful, keeping the news to themselves, because no headlines have been made about your pregnancy just yet, keeping the secret even longer. To be honest, you’re surprised it hasn’t been discovered sooner, you thoughr someone would catch you out and about and see right through your baggy clothes and sell the news to the tabloids, but now you are in the sixth month and no one knows a thing.

Your phone chimes next to you, a text from Seb and you hum to yourself happily, putting the jar aside to grab the phone and see what he wrote.

“How are my two favorite girls doing? Miss you a lot!”

He even attached a silly selfie of himself in hair and makeup, he looks adorable with the clips in his hair and some kind of patches under his eyes. Like a real beauty guru.

Grabbing the Nutella, you place it on top of your bump as you move the phone to a lower angle and take a selfie that makes your bump look even bigger, the jar on top and you grinning widely at the camera as you snap a picture and send it to him with your reply.

“Enjoying our third snack of the day at 11 am! Miss you too, can’t wait to see you next week!”

He reads the message right away, his reply coming just seconds later.

“Look at that bump! You look gorgeous, baby! Can’t wait to see you too, have fun with your sister today, love you lots Xx”

Since he has left you’ve been trying to keep yourself busy so you don’t miss him too much and you’re also using these weeks to spend as much time with your friends and family as possible, knowing well once the baby arrives you won’t be going out that much for a while, nestled up in your home, learning the ropes of being a mother. Today you are meeting up with your sister, she is taking you out to this alleged new, quite fancy restaurant you haven’t heard about before. She claimed that it’s really exclusive, so you don’t have to worry about being photographed or bothered, but she also told you to glam yourself up for the occasion. It’s gonna be some nice sister time, something you haven’t been able to do in a long time.

You take the assignment seriously, doing your hair and makeup the best you can and you decide to put on a flowy maxi dress with a soft, knitted cardigan, very much going for a kind of cottage core vibe. Leaving just in time you text your sister that you’re on your way, putting the address into the GPS and heading out of town, because the place is near the beach. She texts you back that she’ll meet you there and so your short little road trip begins. Sitting in the car you’re listening to one of the many playlists Sebastian has made for you and the baby, he likes to play them at home, humming the songs under his breath, hoping to start educating your little girl in the field of music as early as possible. You have to admit he has a good taste, so you don’t mind it at all.

As you follow the instructions of the GPS you find the place that’s supposed to be your destination, but it doesn’t seem like a restaurant at all, more like a mansion of some kind, a very expensive looking if you are being honest. There are no other cars, no sign of other people so as you park at the front you call your sister.

“Hey, I’m right outside, but I have a feeling I’m at the wrong place? It doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

“Oh, don’t worry! You’re at the right place! I’m a little late, but I’ll be there soon, just go inside, they are expecting us!” she assures you, but you’re still not convinced.

Ending the call you approach the entrance and for your surprise the heavy doors open before you could even knock or find the bell. A man in a tuxedo appears in front of you, smiling warmly at you.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nod, a little shy and confused.

“Please, follow me,” prompts as you walk inside and the two of you start crossing the grandiose hall of the building.

At this point you are sure it’s not a restaurant, but you have no idea why your sister wanted you to come here. You want to ask the man if you’re even at the right place, but he called you by your name so he was expecting you, this has to be the place where you’re supposed to be. More and more questions pile up in your head as you follow him out to the backyard, a gigantic, flower-filled garden that’s straight out of a fairytale, a path leading down to the beach where there’s a dreamy little pergola with even more flowers and fairy lights and as your eyes fall on the figure standing in the middle of the pergola, you immediately gasp.

Because surrounded with all the flowers and lights, there is Sebastian standing in an elegant suit, smiling widely at you as the man next to you helps you down the stairs before you start walking down the path to him.

Tears are flooding your eyes, because you already know what it is, but you can’t believe it’s really happening. He was so sneaky, he got home from filming earlier and even made your sister play along to surprise you, he is such a romantic soul, no one can change your mind about that!

“You’re not in Atlanta!” you tell him when he is finally close enough to hear you. He chuckles sweetly, taking a few steps forward to meet you sooner, his hands finding your waist as you cup his face in your hands, pulling him down to kiss you right away.

“No, I’m not, baby,” he smirks, his hands sliding to your belly, gently stroking the sides as you wipe your tears away, but there’s no use, because the next moment, he steps back a little, just enough so that he can get down on one knee and you’re crying again when you see him pull out a little velvety box from his pocket.

You were expecting it. You knew he would propose before the baby arrives, but you just didn’t know when and how, but he surely outdone himself with his little surprise.

“My Love, Y/N,” he starts after a deep breath, his hands finding yours and you can feel the shaking, but you’re not sure if it’s coming from yours or his. Probably both. “I’ve spent the best years of my life with you and I haven’t been the same man since the day I met you, but in the best way possible. You are the most amazing woman I’ve ever met and I’m so lucky that you did not only choose to be with me, but you are now carrying our baby under your heart as well, out little one who is equal parts of you and me, though you’re doing ninety percent of the job here,” he adds with a chuckle, making you laugh through your tears. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment you were so badass on your first date, kissing me when I didn’t have the balls to do the first step, but I’m glad you did. I fell in love with you right then and there and the same thing has been happening every day, over and over again since then. I know we went a little out of order with everything we had planned,” he smirks, glancing down at your bump before his blue eyes find yours again, “but that doesn’t change the fact that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so I have a question for you.”

He pops the lid of the box open, a gorgeous, brilliant diamond ring coming to your vision, sparkling in the warm afternoon Sun so perfectly, it takes your breath away.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?” he asks, clearly nervous, even though there’s no doubt about your answer, you’ve told him plenty of times before that you want to marry him, but still, it’s a huge moment in both your lives.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you nod eagerly as you both start laughing in relief, his shaky fingers tagging the ring out of the box and sliding it to your finger gently, before he brings your hand to his mouth and kisses the ring.

Then he finally stands up and you basically throw yourself into his arms, kissing him like your life depends on it as he kisses you back with just as much force.

“I love you and I can’t wait to call you my wife,” he sighs pleased against your lips.

“Mm, another title in the line? Girlfriend, baby mama, fiancé and then wife,” you giggle giddily.

“You missed one,” he cocks an eyebrow at you slyly.

“Which one?”

“Love of my life.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan fiction #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader

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still-a-morosexual-help · 2 years

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3, 7, and 17 for the MC ask game? :>

+ the ones asked by @bisexualdumbass-world

So my MC is basically just general MC but with a backstory/more specific likes and dislikes

All my fics for unnamed gn! mc × mammon are based off my MC because their personalities are so similar & it's easier to write with a concrete figure in mind [ AO3 ]

If you know me by now, you know it's gonna get long as I explain things, add headcanons and the reasons behind them, add links to theories about the lore/world building/general mc & add links to any fic of mine that's relevant

This became a semi masterpost for all my posts dissecting + discussing general MC × Mammon's relationship & for 14 of my fics :))

Also asks are temporarily open again because I got lonely

And for context (& because I can't draw people):

[picrew link]

My theorised OM! time frame -> 3 years from S1 to S4 & why

1. How does your MC react to being summoned to the Devildom?

In this theory , I said that at some point in history the existence of the other two realms was an open secret to (at least some) humans but with the war, the rebellion & them practically shutting themselves up it became myth & then transformed into religion

Under this theory, a lot more humans would have been raised hearing stories/myths/folklore of the other realms. The interpretation of the realms and their residents may vary between people but the core is the same.

Eliza's mother (like general MC's mother was supposed to be) was a painter & a descendent of Lilith, who despite not being religious was very interested in the stories and so painted scenes from them.

Eliza didn't spend long with their mother (theory)* but the stories featured heavily in what little time they had together so they grew up seeing angels/demons in the same way most people see sentient/intelligent aliens.

aka:

You don't put much thought into it in your daily life, you're completely fine with never seeing one/confirming they're real, if someone asks if you believe in them you shrug & say "who knows" while 75% of you believes they probably aren't real. If confronted with hard evidence of their existence you'd probably be more shocked about seeing them/meeting them than the fact that they're real

In OM! at the very beginning it also says that MC signed up for an exchange program I believe? As in they weren't just randomly kidnapped. They were given the opportunity, they signed up and instead of going to where ever in the human world they were supposed to go they ended up in a mythical realm

More than being shocked that they were kidnapped by monsters under the bed, they were shocked that the cultural exchange program they signed up for was with aliens

So they adapted to it a lot quicker than they should've though a part of them still believed they were dreaming until they hurt their wrist when Levi tried to kill them

*this is mostly to explain why general MC doesn't seem to have a family, why they're so ready to leave the human world & join the brothers' family, why there's never a mention of more descendents of Lilith which rightfully the brothers would be interested in

Ik there's no mention about others because this is MC's story and they also needed to make MC more customizable for the players but since my MC is general MC I needed a solid reason for it

3. How does your MC feel about Cerberus and Henry?

They adore Henry 2.0 and make a point of asking Levi how he's doing every once in a while (mc asking Levi how Henry 2.0 is doing is actually canon and adorable!!)

They absolutely whipped their phone out to take pictures of both Henry 1.0 & Cerberus while they were being chased/attacked by them.

By this point of the game, as long as they're not sneaking into the labyrinth, Cerberus has come to accept them as just another member of the household and (like general MC) their rotation of chores now includes grooming/walking Cerberus.

They've got a lot of pictures of him taken by their professional camera and they have an entry on him in their "journal"/ the book they're putting together about the animal life of all three worlds

They're still trying to convince Barbatos to let them go to the dungeons in the Demon King's Castle to take pictures of Henry 1.0

4. How would your MC react to the brothers almost killing them and/or hurting them?

They don't even register Mammon's threats and have no problem snapping back at him from the beginning*¹

When Levi & Beel try they're in a dazed numb shock and they remain quiet till (in Levi's case) Mammon brings out the line about 'dying next time they're in trouble instead of letting anyone else save them' and the line itself and the entire situation is so ridiculous that they end up laughing (somewhat hysterically) as everything catches up with them.

In Beel's case they're shocked out of it when Mammon blames them for eating Beel's custard and they immediately start scrambling to defend themself to Lucifer, while also throwing Mammon under the bus.

When Lucifer tries to kill them the first time, they hardly remember any of it but they're silent and contemplative afterwards.*² They try not to dwell on any of the times and they push themself to keep looking forward

Asmo's & Satan's ones put them off the most because they were both the ones who were initially nicest to them without needing to build any deeper friendships/connections. Asmo & Satan's threats were graphic and sounded like promises more than threats. They tiptoed around the two of them after that and found comfort in the pacts because it meant they had a way to defend themself. Satan apologising meant that they relaxed around him quicker than they relaxed around Asmo.

They usually dismissed Lucifer's threats, pretending that if they didn't believe them or sneered back at him/laughed them off, it'll mean Lucifer wasn't serious. Though I did end up writing a whole fic about the time Lucifer hurt their wrist*³

They were angry when Lucifer tried to hurt them the second time. They were betrayed and livid but things happened so fast afterwards it got pushed back and the only resolution they had was when they got to punch him (in the shoulder/arm) after they reunited

They stayed away from Belphie/tried their best to interact with him only when the others were around. In the end their desperate need to reunite the family (because hell they went through this much BS they might as well see it to the end) won out in the end and they interacted with him more than they were comfortable with in order to do so. Remember Gisella who said you never forget the way you die? Their body hurts now - some days (most days) it's barely noticeable but on others they can't even make it outta bed. On these days, even after they're completely comfortable with Belphie and usually have no problem napping with him, they can't even look at him without flinching away.

After nearly getting killed so many times and then actually dying and being brought back to life, what little self preservation they had completely disintegrated. They now have a tendency to make light of all the near death experiences and any future experience as well - as a way to cope? No! They're perfectly fine! :)))))

5. What would be your MC’s favorite class at RAD?

Devildom Zoology & Devildom History

7. What job would your MC like the most?

They technically are a wildlife photographer but are currently without a stable job

Photographer because of all those pictures on Devilgram where the LIs are staring at the camera with heart eyes but the photos itself looks like they were taken by a professional

Wildlife photographer because they need to be patient, cool & calm, adaptable, used to dealing with possibly dangerous animals etc and MC having a job where they need all those traits would explain how they got used to the chaos of the Devildom so easily

10. Where would your MC go to escape it all in the Devildom?

They'll usually take their camera and head out into the woods.

11. How would your MC react to going back to the human realm after spending a year at RAD? Would they try to go back to things being normal?

They try to put on a brave face when leaving, specially because they always knew this was coming but they're absolutely devastated and they feel stupid for it.

They don't have a family (unknown father, dead mother & no relations at all from her side) and have always moved around too much + worked too much to form any deep relationships (both platonic & romantic) and so they've never really found a place or people in the human world where they can come out of their shell/open up more (something that Lucifer notes in S2 is that MC is now more open about their emotions). Despite this they've always being fascinated by families & in the Devildom they felt like they finally found their place so having to leave and not knowing if they'd ever be back was heartbreaking

They tried to get back to normal but the world now seemed duller and they were, ironically, homesick*⁴ & counted the days till their once a week calls.

(Like general MC) They lose weight during their time in the human world.

Despite all the evidence that everything that happened was real there are days when they wonder if it was all a dream and:

I headcanon that Eliza's pact with Mammon is on their right palm for many reasons (the most prominent being that scratching your right palm means you're going to get money) but also:

After leaving the Devildom in S2 they move to a bigger apartment & get a roommate because they start getting luckier with money so they can afford it and after the loud chaos of the HoL they needed to hear someone else moving around their home*⁵

12. What would your MC write their paper on for the exchange program?

It'd mostly be a general paper covering all topics - from culture & food, to the people & RAD (they gloss over a lot of the "nearly dying" parts)

Additionally in their time in the Devildom they start photographing the animals + supernatural creatures they find there and then doing research on them. They get a thick old blank paged tome (the actual book from Satan, but with Solomon's magic so that they never run out of blank pages & so that only they can open it) where they make entries for each animal/creature with the research material they found & attached pictures.

13. How would your MC wear the RAD uniform?

They normally wear a similar uniform to the brothers. They start the day with everything neat & in place and end it with their tie tucked into a pocket, the jacket open, the shirt's first few buttons unbuttoned. When it's cold they'll have a light-material hoodie peeking out from under their shirt. Every once in a while, they'll wear a skirt with black leggings.

16. What sort of magic would your MC want to learn the most?

Summoning magic would obviously take precedence over everything else but (like general mc) they'd be able to easily pickup healing magic and they find it really useful as well

17. Would MC prefer Diavolo’s dances/balls or Asmo’s parties?

They don't have a preference and the answer could change depending on the day because it's fun to dress up for Diavolo's dances & to hang out with everyone else but they can be overly stuffy depending on who's there.

Asmo's parties are always fun but the later you stay the hornier they get and that can become uncomfortable

18. What is your MC’s relationship like with the brothers?

To make the story fit more with my characterizations, I work under the assumption that not all the characters are in love with Eliza. All of them have somewhat of a passing curiosity (you know when you suddenly see someone you've never liked in a romantic or sexual context do or say something and you suddenly get a flash of desire and wanting that's gone as quickly as it came? Eg: me at the tall dude sitting in the middle of the class and nodding along with my presentation while everyone else was focused on preparing for their own presentations. Nearly dropped down on one knee and pulled out a ring at that moment) - but that's it. None of the side characters have an actual crush on them (except Thirteen eventually). All the brothers had a small crush on them at one point or another but once they realise Eliza doesn't return their feelings it settles into the background - still present but not important (you know when you get a major crush on some person but nothing ever happens and now you're completely happy with their friendship but every once in a while your brain lets out a longing what if)

They're initially a bit in awe of Lucifer (a little bit attracted to him even though they'd gun-to-their-head deny it) until they have the "oh he's an asshole" realisation and then they're scared of him but also willing to put that aside to help Belphie because 1. They can't stand to see Beel sad. 2. The brothers clearly all adore each other but they have so many issues that are tearing them apart and Eliza who has always wanted a family is pissed by how they seem to be taking it for granted. 3. Lucifer was a dick and now they want to be petty and openly defy him. Once things get settled and they realise that "oh he's still an asshole but he's also an overworked, overprotective dad with ptsd" they become more open to the idea that Lucifer's not as bad under everything. They still go out their way to annoy him/defy him but when it comes down to it they'll always listen to what he says and follow his orders. They also tease him about the crush he has on them. They have weekly (sometimes daily) private meetings where they drink tea and Lucifer gets to finally open up and complain about everything.*⁶ Whenever he works late they make him coffee (the kind that bets bitter depending on how much the person making it loves the person they're giving it to). Eliza can fluctuate from being the only other adult in the room that Lucifer can depend on to giving him just as much hell as the rest of his brothers. They'd deny it but they preen whenever he's proud of them because more than anything they want him to accept them. Whenever Lucifer simps for Diavolo (which he does in canon) they always side eye him with the most smug look ever. Their entire relationship can be summed up by Eliza punching him (in the shoulder/arm) because he's being emotionally constipated and they were worried about him and then immediately hugging him tightly.

If you've read my Mammon x General MC posts you know exactly what this relationship is like:

Mammon being terrifying

Mammon & MC sharing a room

He canonically does not steal from them

Mc x Mammon & love languages

MC praising Mammon

MC being a simp p1

MC being a simp p2

Mammon being protective p1

Mammon being protective p2

Summary of their relationship throughout the seasons and how it's changed & the parallels that show that growth

MC & Mammon's crows

Being supportive of each other

Mc being possessive

Mammon's Self Esteem when MC is present

Mammon literally being created to be MC's best friend

Mammon vs Solomon

Mammon Vs the new characters

Mammon x mc 🔞

MC hearing about Mammon from the perspective of other demons

Mammon x MC & teasing p1

Mammon x MC & teasing p2

Why Mammon made the pact *⁷

Mammon x MC playlist (specifically "Stand by You - Rachel Platten" for Eliza × Mammon from Eliza's pov & "Family - Mother Mother" for Eliza's thoughts about the brothers)

Mammon & MC's business p1

Mammon & MC's business p2

Mammon being the original morosexual

Mammon x MC being Enemies to friends to lovers

Mammon - consent, apologising & prioritising where MC is concerned

Mammon x MC in S1 & S2

Overall, they're partners in crime/best friends who are stupidly in love with each other

And I think their relationship can be summarised as:

Being dumb best friends who are in love*⁸

MC being protective af P1*⁹

MC being protective af P2*¹⁰

Eliza is very indulgent of Levi and considers him a best friend as well. They're always up to binge watch anime with him, play games, go to cons, cosplay & sing karaoke. They take a heavy interest in whatever he's doing while also gently brushing away the crush he has on them. Though in my version, mostly to avoid hurting Levi, his crush is mostly superficial and becomes a "friendship crush" once they get close (yknow that one friend you have no romantic or sexual interest towards but you're a bit in awe of them & would also totally marry them no questions asked). Levi's the one who introduced Eliza to anime/manga/games and though they don't watch/play them on their own they're always more than happy to stay up the whole night doing so with Levi.

Satan & general MC have the most underrated friendship is2g. I have a half written post about how similar the two of them are which I'll post later and then add the link here but till then trust me, they are very similar - their situations more than their personality (though personality wise there are some similarities as well) and they tend to find comfort in each other because of that. Eliza can always depend on Satan whether it's with help finding research for a certain animal, helping with a spell they're supposed to learn, helping with work at RAD etc. He also feels comfortable about opening up about all his issues to them and he trusts their opinion more than anyone else's (remember in S3 when he looked at them to confirm who he was as a person?). They can also exist in comfortable silence around each other, both doing their own thing. Eliza is also a comfort and stabilising force for him when he's upset (literally just all their main interactions in S3. How they sat together and held hands in silence when he was upset in S3 was absolutely beautiful). They constantly recommend books to each other and have discussions about them.

They have a friendly indifference towards Asmo until he threatens them, makes a pact with them and then starts coming on to them strongly all in the same night and then they become wary of him and make sure to keep their distance. They do soothe things over once Asmo realises Eliza's just genuinely not interested in him and that he has an opportunity to make a friend without anything romantic or sexual involved, just someone who's not at all attracted to him in that way and while it does still annoy him, it also piques his interest. He can trust them to be upfront with him about anything without attraction clouding their judgement so he can actually get an unbiased, objective opinion from them about what actually looks the best on him. He still flirts with them but now it's just to see them fondly roll their eyes. He is a very heavy Mammon × MC shipper and is more than happy to play wingman (P1 & P2). He paints their nails and actually starts Eliza on self care routines and the occasional spa days. He's very clingy with them and once they become proper friends they don't mind having him hang off their arm or cuddle into their side.

They're very protective of Beel because they somehow see him as a little brother despite the fact that he could break them in two using just one hand. The whole reason they agreed to help Belphie was because they saw how upset Beel was about Belphie being gone. They always carry around snacks for him (like general MC) and though they would hate it if any of the others just randomly/spontaneously picked them up and carried them places they don't mind if it's Beel. They have however stolen a number of his t-shirts & jackets because they're huge and comfortable. They're always up for trying a new restaurant with him because, like Beel, they're not fussy about food and will try anything at least once. While they always make sure to buy food/bring him food if Beel texts them & asks, they also hold him accountable when he eats their labelled food. They always go to his matches and he usually manages to drag them to exercise together (MC is canonically able to kick open Levi's locked door and all that strength must come from somewhere). Like general MC; Eliza, Mammon, Levi & Beel hang out and get into trouble frequently & have weekly gaming nights. I can't find the post I made about it (but you can play the locked chapters of Lesson 4 to see what I'm talking about), Beel also "ships" Mammon × MC

Eliza initially doesn't trust Belphie and refuses to help him until they see how upset Beel is and agrees. They form a friendship while Belphie tells them stories about his brothers from inside the attic. After he kills them, they're much more wary of him, to the point that they feel uncomfortable standing close to him - though they push this all aside for the sake of everyone else. Even at the time of making the pact they are uncomfortable around him but making the pact and then hanging out with him & Beel starts soothing over their fears. Though going to the attic at all is painful for them at this point. Belphie isn't oblivious to any of this but tries his hardest not to let it affect him. (I have a fic based on this but it's not complete yet, when I finish it I'll post the link). After they become proper friends, they don't mind napping with him or even being in the attic with him alone, though they're less touchy-feely with him than they are with the others despite loving him as much as them and considering him family. On days that their body hurts a lot they avoid him and he knows how to recognise those days and retreat to the attic to sleep them away. After the pain has gone or reduced to its normal state (which can take 1-3 days) they always make sure to immediately seek him out so that they can nap together. They've also learnt to use him killing them against him. Eg: Belphie: refusing to do something that they really need his help with. Eliza: "Hey, remember that time you killed me :)". Belphie's also one of the brothers with a bigger/more persistent crush on them.

Overall, they're family.

And I have 2 mini fics that explore the relationships between all of them & MC:

MC and physical contact during pact formation*¹¹

Eliza and giving gifts during the brothers' birthdays*¹²

+ 1 fic of them all being a family with Lilith*¹³

19. What is your MC’s relationship like with the side-characters?

Luke is their son adjacent if that makes sense? He's not their son but he's close? Like a little cousin or a nephew. They're very indulgent of him and happily go along with whatever he says. The trips with Mammon & Luke to look for mythical/supernatural creatures becomes a thing.

They're much more quiet/subdued with Simeon than they're with any of the others because they hold the same sort of respect for him that is usually reserved for your grandfather. If Simeon liked Eliza romantically (which he doesn't in my version) he'd be grandfather-zoned and I think it doesn't get any worse than that

They're the least close with Barbatos and are somewhat intimidated by him and so are much more reserved when interacting one on one with him. They do taste test human (& Devildom) teas for him pretty frequently though (like general mc)

So canonically MC is probably the first person to see Diavolo instead of Lord Diavolo and yeah. Lucifer & Barbatos are still obviously Diavolo's closest friends but Eliza becomes his go to for more emotional problems/rants. He's going to gush about the exact colour of Lucifer's eyes for 57 minutes and Eliza is going to think "damn maybe there are perks to being homophobic :/" but they're going to (painfully) listen till he's run out of steam, because who else can he tell any of this to? And then they're going to suggest he actually tell Lucifer that he has beautiful eyes because if they get together hopefully this will stop (if they get together it will only get worse). Diavolo does tell Lucifer, but it completely flies over his head because he's oblivious like that and "haha it's just Diavolo being Diavolo". Eliza considers throttling him. Diavolo can also trust them to be painfully blunt and give their honest opinion when he makes suggestions about any new ideas/parties.

They have a lot of respect for Solomon but they also think he's batshit crazy so while they're willing to help him out whenever, they're always wary about what exactly that will entail. They do work very hard though because, while naturally being hardworker, they also want to live up to his (non-existent) expectations (seriously mc could breathe and solomon would be proud). He's also their go to when they want to complain about the brothers (as much as they love them). Because they're so curious (nosy) they do get frustrated by how much they still don't know about Solomon and how he evades the questions when they just straight up ask him.

Bonus:

They completely indulge Number 2 in his need to terrorise Mammon and happily play the part of Number 2's other parent*¹⁴ despite knowing that this is a full grown man who's much older than them. That being said they're not above threatening him with bodily harm when he pushes them right to the edge (which is true for all their relationships with the brothers and which is true for general MC as well)

Remember these seven little assholes? Eliza absolutely considers them their weird ass adopted kids. (Valago & MC) (what I think they look like with the help of the above picrew)

20. What is your MC’s relationship like with Raphael, Mephistopheles, and Thirteen?

Raphael starts his intro by more or less telling MC that they've heard bad things about each other and this holds true for Eliza as well. After everything they've gone through in the last 3 years, Eliza is somewhat protective of the brothers so their guard is up around Raphael. They have no real reason to pick a fight with him but they also tend to go out of their way to antagonise/tease him. Despite this they really are trying their best to be more civil because Lucifer asked them to + they want to mend the bridges between the three worlds as fast as possible. Despite their reluctance, because of how adaptable they (and general mc) are, they end up working fairly well with him

Eliza can be oblivious (and I think it's hilarious) so it takes them a while to realise who Thirteen is. As in when Thirteen accuses them of breaking into her house they're genuinely like ??????????? They go with the flow when Thirteen's pissed at them but they are genuinely confused about who exactly Thirteen is and why she's upset until some time later. They're also curious about her and her way of talking sometimes reminds them of Mammon. Thirteen's own extremely fiery personality makes Eliza take on the role of calming her down, even if that means drawing the attention towards themself. When Thirteen eventually gets a crush on them it's going to take them the longest time to realise it/believe what the others are telling them. Unfortunately for Thirteen (and me cause: Thirteen🥺❤) they get a lot of "little sister" vibes from her and treat her accordingly (did I somewhat unconsciously decide this to stop myself from jumping ship to Thirteen despite leaving Mammon being clearly against Eliza's personality? Maybe.)

Up to this point they're mostly indifferent towards Mephisto or at most annoyed that after everything he still wants to oppose their place in the Devildom. Also no matter how much fun they have with getting on Lucifer's nerves they're protective of him when someone outside of the family & their close friends do so. After getting to know him better they become his go to place when he wants to rant about something and they willingly listen even if they occasionally (somewhat fondly) roll their eyes and wonder how they ended up here.

**Despite being everyone's therapist + problem solver, Eliza tends to keep their own worries, problems, doubts, anxieties & hurt to themself until someone notices and forces it out of them and this is probably because they've been independent/self-sufficient almost their entire life. (This is something general MC also does either on purpose or accidentally as seen in the "snowed in" event)**

*¹ Perspectives (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

Lucifer watches as years pass and everything changes.

*² Hook, Line and- (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

Five times Mammon used a bad pick-up line to try stealing the exchange student's wallet and three times he didn't.

*³ Warm Nooks and Such Things (unnamed gn!mc × mammon)

They were hurt.

They were lonely.

They were tired.

What they wanted, what they truly wanted, was a nap. Obviously they hadn't taken a certain demon into consideration.

*⁴ Interlude (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

They try to suppress it. The ever looming shadow of their homesickness. His presence helps.

Also there's a spider.

*⁵ From the Other Side (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

Mammon and his human watch movies for Halloween and Mammon wonders what exactly is wrong with humans.

*⁶ The Thing About (Demon) Families (implied unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

In which Lucifer reflects on one of his six annoying baby brothers while a human not-so-silently judges him.

a.k.a. the one where Lucifer is trying his best to be a good big brother but in all honesty he probably needs therapy (they all do)

*⁷ Familiar Strangers (unnamed gn mc × mammon)

Mammon gets a little more time with the strange angel his little brothers picked up and picks up a few things of his own.

*⁸ The 5 Step Plan to Scamming an Angel (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

They place their bet. Five steps. That's all it'll take to utterly and thoroughly neutralize the Devildom's second most powerful demon.

*⁹ Certified Idiots™ (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

Someone had hurt their First Man and they'd walk through hell to make things right.

*¹⁰ A+ Pillow Talk (unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

He was lying to them. It's what he has always been doing. And they deserved more. They deserved so much more. He owed them so much more. And for once this was a debt he wanted to repay.

a.ka.

That one post-coital breakdown we've all definitely had

*¹¹ Physical Contact (implied unnamed gn! mc × mammon)

Physical Contact made during the Pact formation for all 7 brothers

*¹² Demonic Celebrations (my mc x mammon)

Six minfics where the human exchange student celebrates the brothers' birthdays

*¹³ Speaking to Myself (very lightly implied unnamed gn! mc x mammon but mostly just the brothers grieving Lilith)

He missed her more deeply than was comprehensible but he would always remain eternally grateful for the human sleeping curled up in their room.

*¹⁴ A Whole New World (unnamed gn! mc x mammon)

Mammon was way too old to be discovering new kinks but the human has always had an odd effect on him

Facts about General MC

MC's Magic

MC being questionably human

MC's Flaws and why they're not a "Mary Sue"

My MC in more Detail

MC Ask Meme

46 notes · View notes

nincompoopydoo · 3 years

Text

DEBRIS AND MISERY

CURIOUS MINDS THINK ALIKE ; PART 5 / ?

PAIRING: Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 3.1k SUMMARY: Through guessing games and walking on eggshells, it’s you and Loki that dance the strange choreography of two curious minds trying to figure out the other. A/N: Slow moving chapter! If any of you speak Norwegian and know that sentence is wrong, please tell me! I took a risk, not sure if it's worth it. Anyways, I promise there’s more stuff coming in the next chapters. Tell me anything about this chapter, what you love, what you hate. Enjoy xo gif from this gifset by@marvelheroes WARNINGS: Swearing? More paperwork. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERPOST ; MASTERLIST

The narration of Miss Minutes accompanying the grainy animated graphics of a training video on how, why, and when a branch of a timeline is reset seems to be the source of Loki’s absentmindedness. If he is typically referred to as outrageously and mostly unnecessarily communicative, it is his mind that beats his mouth—the tumult of his thoughts is loud and overwhelming like the people who amass at taverns every evening to drink themselves silly whilst singing jolly drinking songs until the wee hours of the morning. Except, his thoughts are far from jolly. He, mastermind of language and a silver-tongue, has no words of any language to describe the complexity of his mind with accuracy.

Kraftig regn som faller i en fossende elv.

Like heavy rain falling on a cascading river. Water from the sky on water streaming through the ground—thunderous raindrops from above against the river that strikes every rock of every winding turn.

Those were the words of his mother.

Maybe, that’s how his mind should be described.

It’s the mechanical creaks of spinning wheels against the polished floor that pulls him out of his thoughts and finds that he had been staring blankly at a page of men riding jet skis of a magazine he'd nipped from the stack of junk on Mobius’ desk for the last minute or hour. A second or a day? He isn’t sure.

Time works differently at the TVA.

“Hey Casey,” he hears you chime, the cart squeaks as it pulls to a halt. “Do you have a paperweight or something I could use?”

There’s a sound of rummaging as the clerk searches the drawers. Loki restrains the urge to look.

“Uh, yeah...Here.”

“Thanks.”

Probably an infinity stone.

The clerk then wheels by, pushing the evidence cart as he casts a cautious glance his way.

Right. He did threaten to gut him like a fish earlier on although the threat was not as deadly as he intended but proved to be surprisingly effective. Yet, Casey is probably the type to be afraid of his own shadow, he would comply with any sort of threat even if it isn't death.

Pathetic. But amusing.

The training video continues to play in the background, and Miss Minutes’ stupidly charming and cheery voice is starting to sound like gibberish to him. At this rate, it’s white noise to him—attention elsewhere but somewhat listening to a certain extent. He loves multi-tasking and isn’t afraid to admit he’s great at it though it likely plays a huge factor in contributing to the uproar of his brain. It’s why he doesn’t get any sleep for most nights.

There’s just...so much to think about.

And now, it’s filled with the reminder of how you met another version of him. Somewhere. Sometime. An inferior Loki, obviously.

Suddenly, the jet ski magazine becomes less interesting, his mind fleeting.

Discreetly, he spins in his swivel chair and sees you through inked writings and diagrams on the glass partition of your cubicle. Your coat’s discarded, and you have your sleeves rolled up, looking less formal, less tense than before. Yet, still as fierce with that constant scowl of your brows. He watches you bring your fingers to scratch the left side of your cheek and notices a vague resemblance of a fading scar.

He hadn’t seen that before.

The glowing orange hue of the soul stone sits idly on top of a stack of papers beside you.

Loki makes some sort of contemptuous noise in his mind at the sight.

The TVA is a strange place. The thought of a cosmic organization that overlooks all of the time doesn’t make it any less weird and neither do the uniforms—dull color combinations and collars that never seem to end. And the Time-Keepers, well, he isn’t sure what to make of that. Things are a little too straightforward, too simple for handling such a complex matter of the universe—Time. It doesn't make sense.

You spark his curiosity. You had a connection with him. Another Loki trusted you to a certain extent. He wonders what makes you so special, that Mobius was willing to try everything to convince you to help.

He also wonders what your name is.

The clearing of his throat comes off as a sudden and disruptive sound that resonates clearly through the somewhat silent environment of the office floor. A subtle way to gaining your attention although it's proving ineffective. You continue to flip through documents, scribbling notes on a notepad.

He wheels his chair closer to you. For a moment, he catches sight of a white mug amongst the mess. It says, 'Rocket scientist at work.' There’s no way a person as intimidating as you have that kind of mug.

He clears his throat once more.

Still nothing. It’s like he doesn't exist to you.

Then, he notes your vague attempt to fight down a growing smile.

Oh. Oh. You—

Hm.

He scooches closer and taps on the glass partition a little too aggressively.

“I know you can hear me.”

His tone comes out in a sing-song manner. Finally, your eyes turn up to meet his. They are different from when you first saw him emerged into the hallway. Less angry and shocked. Now, you just look unimpressed.

Loki somehow thinks it’s a great idea to charm his way to you.

A grin finds his way to his lips, curving widely with oozing allure.

Or so he thinks.

“Pardon me, but I believe we haven’t properly met and I didn’t catch your name earlier on.”

You don’t say anything, only blink in response.

Tough crowd.

Loki shifts in his seat.

“...What is your name?”

He articulates his words with care, and he doesn’t know why he finds it a need to tread lightly around you. Like with a touch, you will transform into a fiery beast from his childhood nightmares and eat him alive.

You and Mobius are polar opposites—personality-wise. It’s a wonder how the two of you get along.

Do you scare him? No. Definitely not.

Do you intimidate him? Perhaps. But, he will never admit it.

Maybe it’s the way you’re gazing at him with that constant, deafening deadpan look.

Then, you finally give him an answer.

“Agent.”

And with that, you're back to scribbling notes on a notepad.

Agent.

Loki scoffs silently to himself.

Well, that turned out to be completely pointless.

He turns his back to you, returning to scanning through Mobius' jet ski magazine within his grasp.

Loki doesn’t see how you’re now staring at the back of his figure, tapping your pen against the notepad absentmindedly.

Curious minds think alike.

You needed a change of scenery.

With all the noise of the muffling narration of the training videos from Mobius’ desk, you began to feel like you forgot how to do your job. The only job you were created for. The disturbance seems to be putting your brain into a frenzy and it’s preventing you from getting your head straight on report protocols. Trying to think of better words to describe the things you’ve seen on Sakaar that weren’t words that meant trash and didn’t end up sounding unintentionally sexual, is where you draw the line.

Times are hard for the variant turned analyst.

The archives are serene amid your solitude. Extensive tables hidden between shelves of identical-looking binders that expanded throughout the hundreds of floors of the building. The spot that overlooks the three looming statues of the Time-Keepers is your favorite. The occasional swish of a passing elevator calms your nerves from all the frustration and pressure ever since you were released from your arrest. You’re just happy to be somewhere familiar although it’s not home.

Although all distractions are gone, you manage to find new ones as you gaze at the glowing ‘357’ signage from across the building as you decide to let your thoughts run for just a little while. You feel like you’re looking through foggy glasses and your brain feels like it’s about to shut down any moment.

Dream away the pain, then.

Then, you hear a voice from afar. Two voices. It’s Mobius; you’ll recognize that quintessential Texan accent anywhere from the times he would rave about a new jet ski magazine he’d found on a mission...something along those lines.

Much to your chagrin, you also hear Loki with that irritatingly posh accent of his.

You should probably move somewhere else. Run and hide before you're being pulled even more into this mess because you know Mobius is trying to get you to spend as much time with the variant turned analyst to gain trust.

You’re still not sure how it’s helping with his case. Loki has better trust in Mobius than you as far as you’re concerned.

Before you could even gather the mess of your files, the two men you’ve been trying to escape are already by the desk you’re sitting at. You suddenly notice the stack of files on the other end of the desk, not remembering seeing the archivist putting that there.

Crap.

“Let me park ya at this desk and don’t be afraid to really lean into this work...”

You look like a deer caught in the headlights, signaling to Mobius that you really don’t want to share a desk with Loki. He continues to speak to him, ignoring your silent plea. Then, he gestures to the seat across from you.

There’s still time to leave.

Mobius addresses you with the stretch of his pointer finger.

“You, keep an eye on him. I’m gonna get a snack.”

Well, too late.

With a turn of a heel, you and Loki watch him walk away and pass neverending shelves of the archives. Once again, the two of you are left alone in the silence and the white noise of the TVA.

You meet each other's eyes at the same time, struck with the thought that you and he will probably be seeing each other a lot until the Loki variant is arrested. Plus, you’re tired of giving him the cold shoulder although you believe he deserves it.

This is a different Loki. The one who’s still power-hungry. The one who still wants to rule.

Time to start fresh.

You notice he now wears a jacket, a color somewhere between green, grey, and brown with a striking image of the TVA’s official badge above his chest. The lapels of his jacket jut out in an attempt to replicate his sense of pride and confidence.

He must have been on a trip with Mobius to the Renaissance Faire in Wisconsin, 1985. Oh, how you would kill to tag along. Everyone who knows you knows about your obsession with Earth’s music pop culture, specifically the 1980s. It explains the cassettes you have lying around. Your apartment has more of it.

Unfortunately, you're grounded. That's reality.

Thus, you decide that Loki deserves a second chance because he’s also somehow looking at you for some kind of approval. You’re starting to wonder if this is the same Loki that was tapping aggressively on your cubicle earlier on.

With an open palm, you gesture to the empty seat surrounded by stacks of binders and folders. It's the first time he has experienced some kind of acknowledgment of his presence that you weren’t ranting or screaming about. Oddly calm. Oddly inviting. Momentarily, he shifts in his stance, eyes darting between a fading figure of Mobius rounding the corner and to the seat, across from you.

The air is tense. However, still breathable.

Loki slides into the seat, legs shifting under the desk as it brushes against your by accident. You shoot him a pointed look, and he responds with a coy expression, blinking at you innocently. It’s mischievous.

Classic Loki.

You turn back to your case file, ignoring the way his gaze seems to burn holes into the side of your face for a fleeting moment before flipping a binder open from the stack to his left.

You snore when you sleep.

Loki wouldn’t describe it as a snore; it's more of a wheeze. Soft and subtle but it’s there, cutting through the ambiance of the archives, drifting and resonating in his ears. Through turning pages, uttering words to himself for his amusement, and having an irritating lady shush him for that, he realized how it became a lot quieter. The grazing sound of pen furiously scribbling words onto the yellow notepad has stopped.

Then, he hears it. Your pathetic snores. Your cheek is unceremoniously pressed against the back of your hand while the other holds the orange pen that’s still pinned down on the paper, mid-scrawl. The tip of the ballpoint pen sits idly, halfway through the curved stroke of the last letter of the word, ‘debris.’ He cranes his neck, face tilting in an attempt to read the chicken scratchings of your handwriting.

0132: L1190 hauls me through the time door and I miserably land on Sakaar, the planet of wastelands and debris.

You are quite...miserable. In a comical way. And he knows how much you hated your time on Sakaar��Mobius warned him of your apparent irritation in reminiscent of being stranded and then having to resume paperwork immediately. He wonders if he, too, is the reason for another boiling rage.

Apparently, you were pardoned on behalf of not only Mobius but the Time-Keepers as well.

You, an agent, are recognized by the holy and almighty Time-Keepers.

You, an agent, who sleeps with your mouth agape.

The statues of the TVA’s creators loom over him like they’re watching his every step. Every movement. Every lingering thought. Right now, he has the urge to uncover, perhaps deduce, the holes within this whole mess. In a carefully calculated and discrete movement, he reaches to prod you on the forearm. You don’t move.

He prods you again.

You still don’t move.

Now, Loki is trying to chat up the archivist who watches him through narrowed eyes, glasses framing the austere and rigid structure of her face, in favor of files that turn out to be classified.

Classified, classified, classified. Only able to gain access to his own file.

His journey from the desk proved to be useless and unproductive although the much-needed stretch somehow made it a little worthwhile.

When he returns, you're surprisingly still asleep, brow twitching and lips still parted.

Aren’t you supposed to be keeping an eye on him?

The pen you held has now left your grasp, rolled over to his stack of binders. He notices the words inscribed on it, ‘Mars is there, waiting to be reached.'

Through your fury and chaos, he knows there’s a part of you that feels, a part of you that loves. And you love everything about the Midgardians’ space program. It's shown in the way you cling to collected memorabilia.

There are dark circles that adorn your shut eyes, barely hidden under your lashes. You’re exhausted, fractured.

Loki is having a difficult time trying to suppress how he likes the way the frizz of your hair glows against the glowing table lamps from the desk behind you. You’re raw, flaws presented on a silver platter for everyone to see. Maybe, that’s the reason why you entice him the way you do.

He’s staring. Right. Back to work.

Loki returns to running through neverending case files, engrossed in the pixelated monochrome images that accompany the monospace typeface of endless reports.

Then, he sees it.

‘Destruction of Asgard’ in big, bold, and red letters. It glares at him sharply, images of his once divine home of Asgard, crumbling at the feet of Surtur. Buildings, people, engulfed in the flames of the fire demon. The prophecy of the end, Ragnarok—it was meant to be.

His home, it still was. Although an untrue Asgardian.

He knows how it ends. He knows he dies. He wishes his true self, the one on the Sacred Timeline, could have done more.

He doesn’t realize the forming tears that linger. He doesn’t realize that in the sense of premonition, you’ve awakened. He doesn’t realize that even with sleepy eyes, you notice the grief that glints in his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

With three words, you’ve struck him with those eyes that seemed all-knowing. You see through the facade he has created, sealing the true nature of what is truly a child that is afraid of his destiny and to lose all he had ever known. His mother, father, and brother. His people. You see through it all.

You know that face. You’d seen it on Sakaar when he sat at the doorstep of your makeshift home, watching the splintered moon drift through the star-lit sky. You’d seen it in yourself through the dusty reflection of the screen of the tempad.

He longs for home. He longs for family.

For a moment, Loki sees Frigga in your eyes.

Then, his world shifts, hauling him back to reality. It’s you who’s across his way, not his mother. Loki blinks, partly to get his head straight with the excuse to blink away the sting in his eye. He shifts in his seat, rolling his neck and squares his shoulders.

“Yes. I’m alright. It’s just...”

Trailing off, he clears his throat. You follow his gaze and from your spot, you catch sight of those deafening crimson letters. Maybe, it was the spur of the moment. You blame your drowsy state, but there’s a growing warmth that spreads across your chest from the pit of your stomach. It’s subtle, a spark, but evident. Before you know it, you’re uttering words that leave your lips faster than your brain could perceive.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know when was the last time you said those words and meant it. Loki doesn’t know when was the last time he’d ever heard those words addressed to him, spoken from the lips of a stranger. Until now.

You mean it. He sees it in the curve of your brows.

Loki swallows, nodding curtly. For the first time, he has nothing to say. And as quickly as the moment comes, he brushes it off and so do you. Whatever is reminiscent of a residing unknown feeling, bubbling within, has disappeared.

He sees your hand reach for the pen and for a while, he thinks you’re about to reach for his arm.

But no, you’re back to scrawling notes on the paper and he’s back to studying useless documents.

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your normal antics as you find yourself chasing after Loki, who abruptly left the desk with wide eyes.

Curious minds think alike. Mostly.

TAGLIST:

@lareinedususpense

@poubxlle

@mystoragehatesme

@the-maroon-panda

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #loki series #sylvie #mobius x reader

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