#introducing thistle's new best friend

[plentyoffandoms]

Main Masterlist ♡ Adam Copeland Masterlist ♡ Christian Cage Masterlist ♡ Alternate Universe Masterlist

Warnings: Some swearing. Descriptive sexual acts. Creampies. Unprotected sex, p in v. Oral (m & f receiving). Double Penetration. Anal.

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me.

WC: 3664

William Jason "Jay" - Christian Cage

Summary: Adam Copeland & Christian Cage are just two everyday cops, back in their hometown of Orangeville. They share everything in their lives, and that includes one police station secretary.

ADAM COPELAND'S POV:

I saw Jay leaning against the door frame of our break room. He was drinking his medium double double from Timmies, refusing to drink the black sludge that they call coffee, here at the Police station.

I clasped my hand on his shoulder, letting him know I was there. "Mornin' Adam." Sip of coffee.

"Morning Jay. What you lookin' at on this fine morning?"

"Her." He raised his coffee cup in the direction of the front desk.

"Mmmm, I see they finally hired Maggie's replacement."

"Yeah, and have you seen her?" Jay turned to look at me. I shook my head no.

"Well, why don't you go and introduce yourself." Jay said, as he was smirking at me. With one raised eyebrow, I walked down the hall towards her desk.

"Excuse me, Miss." I said as I rounded the table and stood in front of her. She looked up at me, and fuck me, she is gorgeous.

"Yes, Officer?"

"Well, I heard that we finally replaced the secretary, and I always like to know who I am working with. My name is Adam, and yours?"

She told me her name.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart. I will be seeing you around." I walked down the hall, the same way I came, to Jay still standing there with a massive smirk on his face, sipping his coffee.

"Now you see why I am staring. I am not the only one, by the way." I noticed that. Every single straight male in the vicinity had their eyes on her.

"Knowing a woman like that, she probably has someone waiting at home." I said to him as we started walking, ready to get our day started protecting the streets of Orangeville.

"I did some snooping, and she is single. Her previous boyfriend cheated on her with her best friend, so she decided to move here from Grand Valley."

"A small town where everyone seems to know everyone. Makes sense to move away. Everyone would know that she was cheated on." I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that some idiot would cheat on her.

"So I invited her out to Thistle & Rose with us after work. You know, trying to be good co-workers with the new hire, and all." Jay said as he walked to his patrol car.

"And?"

"She said that would be more than happy to join us." Jay said as he opened the drivers side door but placed his hands on top of the car.

"I'll be there with bells on." I told him, already looking forward to tonight.

◆

She was already waiting for us, looking nervous. Oh, poor thing, She had no reason to be nervous.

"Officer's." She said once we got close enough.

"Now, sweetheart, please call me Adam."

"And me, Jay." She seemed to relax somewhat. We placed our drink and food orders, and the night began. The two of us getting to know her, and vice-versa.

"So you are telling me that you have never once got in trouble with the law out in Grand Valley? There isn't much to do out there, and some teens just break the law for fun." I said as I sipped my drink.

"Never. I didn't get the point of defacing someone's property or stealing. So I got a job, did the teen programs. Even before I moved here, I would volunteer to chaperone the high school dances."

"Well, aren't you just a sweet thing." Jay said, him never once taking his eyes off of her.

All of a sudden, they were shouting last call, and we had to pay up.

She insisted on paying for us, but Jay shook his head no. "Now what type of gentleman would I be if I had you pay, huh? I asked you to join us tonight. It is on me."

"But Jay,"

"No use arguing with the man. He is as hard-headed as they come." I told her, knowing how my best friend is.

The three of us walked to our vehicles outside, well enough to drive. We didn't have that much to drink.

"Since you are new in town, here are our numbers." I handed her a piece of paper. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to call or text us. Doesn't matter the hour. Emergency or not. You know our work schedules, we will be there, no matter the time."

"Really? Thank you, Adam. Thank you, Jay, for everything." She said as she took the paper from my hand and placed it in her pocket.

"Now drive safe dear." Jay said, as we watched her get in her car, then drive off.

"I know that look. What are you thinking of?" He said to me.

"She isn't just going to text us out of the blue for no reason. I think we have to push this along."

"Benny and Kyle?" Jay already knew the answer, but was just making sure.

"Of course. They owe us for not bringing them into the station when we caught them stealing that car."

"The judge did say one more offence, and they would be going to Central East Correctional Centre. I mean, we are just doing right by these guys. I like the way you think, Adam."

◆

During my next shift, I found Benny and Kyle near their usual hangout spot.

"So you want us to make sure her place is secure, huh? No intruders can get in."

"Exactly, Benny. Just want to make sure her place is up to my standards."

"Yeah, and what is in it for us?" I narrowed my eyes at Kyle and took four steps until I had him against a wall. I lifted him up by his shirt. I could see the fear in his eyes.

"Keeping you two out of Central East. Unless you two would like to go there?" Kyle shook his head no, frantically.

"Sorry, no, no. Thank you, Officer Copeland. We are more than willing to help welcome a fine woman to our community." I let go of Kyle and dropped to the ground. Poor little guy.

"Good, I am glad to hear."

◆

It is around 1:30 in the morning when I got the frantic call from her. Jay was at my place, just shooting the shit.

"Hello, sweetheart."

"Adam, there is someone trying to break in." I could hear her whispered voice quivering. "Stay hidden, Jay, and I will be there soon."

"Please hurry." I hung up the phone.

"At least those two idiots waited for us to be off to try and break in." I said to Jay as we left my home. Jay lives next door. So we are always at each others place.

"Well, Officer Reso, time to go and help a damsel in distress."

"I wonder how she will repay us for helping her Officer Copeland." Jay snickerd as he got in my truck.

"I got a few ways." An image flashed in my mind of her taking my cock down her throat, and fucking her face until I cum, making her swallow everything I had to give her.

"I bet."

I drove off towards her place.

◆

Jay texted her to let her know we were there, as I banged on her front door. "Orangeville Police Department." I called out.

I could hear the sound of a couple locked being unlocked, and she flung open the door, looking scared. She wrapped her arms around me, muttering thank you over and over again.

She then did the same to Jay, but all I could focus on was what she was wearing. Just a sports bra and the smallest shorts I have ever seen on someone. I cleared my throat.

"Just sit on the couch. Jay and I will have a look around." She sat on the couch and didn't move until Jay and I were done our "investigation."

"Looks like they are long gone. I did find a window lock broken in the kitchen, but that can be replaced. Doesn't look like they got in." Jay said as he sat down next to her while I took a seat in the chair.

"I will replace the lock in the morning." Jay said to her. We could tell she was still scared.

"I'll get some cameras and place them outside." I told her.

"Thank you both so much. I don't know how to repay you."

"No need for that sweetheart. We are friends."

"Well, thank you anyways, Jay." She kissed his cheek. I leaned over and pointed to my cheek as well, clearing my throat.

"And thank you, Adam." She said before kissing my cheek.

◆

In the upcoming weeks, "random" things kept happening to her. Three out of four tires were slashed on her car. She had someone follow her home. When we asked her for a description of the stalker, she described Benny to a tee.

"No worries, sweetheart, we will find whoever this is." I said to her as I placed the cup of water on my kitchen table. I took my usual spot, sipping my drink.

"Are you sure, Adam?"

"We believe it is the same person who is doing all of this. Don't worry about it. During our shift tonight, we will bring them in for questioning." Jay said.

"Thank you for everything." She said once more. Her body instantly relaxed.

◆

Her and Jay left. Her to head home, and Jay to get ready for our shift tonight. I still had time to kill, so I opened my laptop and opened her security system I set up.

I pulled up my favourite video from a couple of weeks ago. She went on a date, which made me red with jealousy, but we hadn't seen him since then.

I fast forwarded to my favourite part.

The two of them in her living room, her bouncing in his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, his lips mouthing at her chest.

I wrapped my hand around my cock, jerking it at just the right pace. My focus was on her face as she came. Her mouth fell open as she moaned. The guy pulled her off of him, and she reached down between their two bodies and jerked him off quickly.

He came all over her hand and stomach.

When she finished jerking him off, she licked her clean, making me groan. I came not long after, just like I have done every single time I watch the video.

Jay also has a copy of this as well. I couldn't keep it to myself.

◆

Benny and Kyle did their jobs wonderfully. I told them to stop, as we know have her right where we want her.

We have her trust. She will come to us for anything. We now spend our days off with her, at one of our places.

But tonight, during our shift, I was stunned to see her in the holding cell. "My, my, my, this is a suprise sweetheart." I said as I watched her stand from the bench.

"Adam, this isn't my fault."

"Well, then whose it?" I texted Jay to come to the holding cells.

"I was out with friends when a group of girls got into an argument with Jenny. Then Jenny slapped her, and a full-on brawl broke out. I tried to stop it, but Livingston didn't listen."

That is when Jay walked in. "Come on now, love. Let's get you home." He opened the cell, and I stood to the side to let her out.

◆

We stopped by her place in the morning, and she didn't want to open the door for us. "Come on, now love, no need to be embarrassed. We got it swept under the rug."

The door opened just a crack. "Really, Jay?"

"Would we lie to you?" I asked her. A smile broke out on her lips, and she opened her door to let us in.

"How can I ever repay you?" She asked. Jay and I looked at one another and then back at her.

Jay cupped her face in his hand and stared deep into her eyes. "We have an idea, love, only if you consent."

Her eyes got really wide, and she bit her lip before answering.

"Yes." Her answer came out in one breath. That was all Jay needed to smash his lips against hers. The two of them moaning.

CHRISTIAN CAGE'S POV

I pulled back, needing to breathe, and she turned her head to kiss Adam. Their kiss was intense, but I was feeling left out.

I stood behind her and moved her hair from her neck and started to nip and kiss her neck as the two of them kiss.

"Maybe we should take this somewhere comfortable." I said.

"How about the bedroom?" She asked as she pulled her lips from Adam, who started to kiss down her neck towards her chest.

I needed this recorded. I want to look back on this night for years to come. "I think the living room will do just fine for what we want to do with you."

At that moment, Adam lifted her up by her ass, making her squeal as she gripped his shoulders. I followed behind the two of them, as he dropped her on her couch.

"Take off your clothes for us, baby." I said, palming myself through my uniform pants. Adam and I groaned as she took off her shirt, and she didn't have a bra on underneath. She took off her undies and shorts as well, while Adam and I stayed dressed.

I was about to undress, but she grabbed my hand.

"Keep the uniform on, please."

"Like a man in uniform?" I chuckled but dropped my hand. "Only you two."

I undid my pants and pulled down my pants and boxers just enough to have my cock, hit my stomach.

I watched her eyes get wide as she looked between Adam and I, licking her lips.

"I knew you both would be big." She said as she gripped our cocks in each of her hands. Jerking them up and down. Adam flung his head back, but I kept my eyes on her.

"Love," I went to say something, which I completely forgot when her lips wrapped around the head of my cock. My head fell forward against my chest, groaning.

"Take a bit more love." I said. I placed my hand on the back of her head, urging her to take more.

"How's her mouth, Jay?" She was still jerking his cock. "Fuck. Amazing Adam. Why don't you show him how great you are, baby?"

I left the warmth of her mouth and watched as she took Adam in her mouth.

I put my hand on the back of her head, urging her to take him fully in her mouth, which she did. "Oh fuck me. I want to paint her throat with my cum."

"I don't think she would mind that, would you love?" She winked up at him, grabbed Adam's hands and placed them on her head.

"Gonna fuck your throat." His hips moved back and forth as he held her head in place. Her hand that was jerking my cock let go of my cock, and I gripped my cock in my hand, watching as Adam fucked her face.

"Shit!" Was all he said before he stilled, his eyes fluttering, and I could hear her swallowing.

Adam pulled his cock out of her mouth, making her cough. She had cum on her chest and on the corners of her mouth.

I pushed her back against the cushions of the couch, as she was still trying to catch her breath.

I got on my knees, spreading her legs, I pulled her towards me. "Eyes on me, love." Was all I said as I started to eat her out. Her loud whine was like music to my ears.

I groaned at the taste of her. I could spend the rest of my life between her thighs, making her cum on my tongue over and over again.

I started to rub her clit with my thumb, making her arch her back off the couch. I inserted two fingers, making her cry out, and close her eyes. I started to finger her, quickly. She tried to close her legs, but I held them open.

"He said eyes on him, sweetheart." Adam said to her. She forced her eyes open and looked down at me. He got in behind her and gripped her legs to keep them open.

"Come on, sweetheart, let go. There's no need to hold it in. We are going to make you feel good all day long." Adam said as he gropped her chest.

Her hands found the back of my head as she ground her pussy against my face, making my fingers go deeper inside her pussy.

She screamed out my name, as my already soaked chin got even more wet as she came. "How she taste Jay?"

I pulled my lips away, and pulled my fingers from her pussy, and held them up in front of me. "Have a taste." I moved my fingers closer to his face, her gaze on my hand the whole time.

Her breath hitched slightly as she watched Adam wrap his lips around my fingers, moaning at the taste of her juices. Once my hand was cleaned, he dropped my fingers from her mouth.

"No wonder you didn't want to stop. She tastes good. Why don't you show her how good she tastes."

I smashed my lips against hers once more, letting her taste herself.

"You ever have two guys at once, baby?" Adam asked her. She pulled her lips away from me and told us no.

"You will today."

◆

The last few hours, Adam and I have been fucking her in different positions, making her cum all over cocks, mouths and fingers.

From us taking turns fucking her over the couch, to her riding each of us on the couch, just like she did to that guy weeks ago.

Right now she is on her knees, with my cock down her throat, as Adam is fucking her from behind. Earlier, I found her toys and pulled out the biggest dildo I could find, and grabbed her lube.

"Gotta get you ready for us, baby. Just relax and let Adam put this in your ass." I said to her as I lubed up the dildo and handed it to Adam.

I held her in my arms as he got past the tight ring of her ass and pushed the dildo all the way in, making her body shudder.

"I think it is time, Jay." Adam groaned as he fell against her back, his hips snapping against her ass.

"You ready to take both of us at once, baby?"

"Mmmhmm." Came her reply, with my cock still on her mouth.

Adam pulled out her over-sensitive pussy, making the two of them groan. He pulled the dildo out of her ass, tossing it to the side.

"What hole do you want?" I asked Adam, already knowing his answer.

"Pussy. I know how much you want to fuck her ass. I will next time."

"Next time?" Came her hoarse voice.

"Yeah, baby. This isn't a one-time thing." I said as I placed my cock at the entrance to her ass. Adam got in front of her, lifting her slightly to have her sit on his cock once more. I pushed her into his chest as I sunk into her ass.

"Fuck, she is so tight. It is like her ass is trying to strangle my cock." I finally bottomed out, my hips flushed against her ass.

We let her get used to us both being inside of her. She was gripping Adam's uniform shirt that was open, "Move, please." Was all she needed to say.

I pulled back slowly and gently thrust back in. I kept an eye on her, making sure she wasn't in discomfort.

My pace increased, as did Adam's, until she was screaming into his chest. Her screams were ones of pleasure, which started to get quiet.

"Knew you would do so well, baby. You were made to take us." Adam groaned as he fucked up into her.

"You belong to us, don't you love? No one else can fuck you." I moaned.

"Yours. Only yours." She muttered.

A few minutes later, Adam stilled and groaned, filling her pussy with his cum, which triggered her orgasm. Her body tightened, including her pussy and ass.

I moaned out her name as my thrusts became sloppy. My eyes seemed to cross as I came in her ass, collapsing on her back, kissing between her shoulder blades.

The only sounds in the room were us trying to catch our breaths. I pulled out of her ass, looking down to watch my cum leak out of her ass.

I pulled her off of Adam, and he must of seen his cum leak from her pussy.

"I will go draw you a bath." I said, walking down the hall to get the bath ready.

I came back, and Adam lifted her her limp body to place her in the tube as I leaned against the doorframe.

"Stay. Order some food. Do your laundry. I have made a mess all over your uniforms." Adam and I chuckled at that, as she isn't wrong. She squirted all over my pants and when she showed us our combined jizz in her mouth, some dribbled onto Adam's pants and shirts.

"Sounds good. I'll order pizza and Chinese." I said, already pulled out my phone to order. Adam went to our trucks and grabbed our duffle bags for our spare clothes.

We changed and started laundry. Food came just as she got out of the bath.

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @faerieofthenightcourt @tahiri-veyla

The three of us ate, talked, and watched different movies, but we all knew the three of us would fuck again...and soon.

Part 2

#aew #all elite wrestling #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #christian cage smut #adam copeland smut #christian cage imagine #adam copeland imagine #christian cage x you #adam copeland x you #christian cage x f/Reader #adam copeland x f/Reader #christian cage x reader #adam copeland x reader #christian cage x f/Reader x adam copeland #wrestler fic #wrestler smut #wrestler x f/Reader #edge smut #edge x f/Reader

[fallenclan]

okay, I have a few songs in mind for that Otterslip pmv! Just to let you know what to expect between all of these :) Give me your thoughts on these songs, I love these all dearly and really want to create something with all of these.

Toba the Tura by Forgiven Durden

Introduction to the Show by ミラクルミュージカル (Miracle Musical)

Alternatively, I use the Hawaii Part II Part II demo for Introduction to the Show because that version goes so hard. 10/10 demos. The piano is so crisp.

Time Machine by ミラクルミュージカル (Miracle Musical)

I will be using either the 1st or 2nd demo if I decide to do this song. The polished version on the official record won't do for Otterslip.

The Rockrose and The Thistle by The Amazing Devil

Worms by Viagra Boys

Poplar St by Glass Animals

I'd have to do this one carefully. Might have to edit my own version of the song for the pmv

I will be watching this post, so if anyone has more ideas.... then please share them in the replies or smth :)

-🎲

YOUR MUSIC TASTE IS SO GOOD. all of these songs are fantastic and they fit Otterslip so well,,, i've listened to almost all of them before but i still had to make myself a little playlist to refresh my memory and listen to them with the context of Otterslip in mind. devastating btw, in the best possible way. putting my thoughts below the cut bc they might get a little long!

Toba the Tura:

SUCH a good song. especially for Otterslip. a few lyrics that really stood out to me.

THE LAST ONE ESPECIALLY. that whole ending monologue just SCREAMS Otterslip. the girl he loved vacating to a new place? his daughter dying and going to the afterlife. a mountainous wall of stone to separate themselves from him??? its. a fucking mountain. they live in a mountain. theirs would be the light, his would be the dark. oughghghghg sobs and wails and cries forever

Introduction to the Snow:

what if i cried. man this song is so fucking SAD. and also not in a way. would work fantastic if one wanted to do a really lonesome depressing take on Otterslip's exile. im picturing an animatic with very few pov changes, just Otterslip maybe watching the stars or traveling through the outside of Fallenclan's territory, up until "you'll live forever tonight" and the piano afterwards, then i'm seeing lots of glimpses of his past life in Fallenclan, and the events leading up to Stormsight's death. ougghh

Time Machine:

GOD THIS WORKS SO WELL WITH HIS EXILE. "you'll have enough time to spend some time alone" HES LITERALLY ALONE. dice anon youre going to turn me into an Otterslip apologist. hes literally leaving today

The Rockrose and the Thistle:

jaw drop. a friend of mine introduced me to this band a while back but HOW HAVE I NOT HEARD THIS ONE. this song fits Otterslip so good its crazy. here's a couple lyrics that stick out to me

i'm definitely seeing some hints of Grassroot in this song. maybe he's singing it to her, maybe she's singing it to him, idk but shes There. ouches

Worms:

i've never heard this song OR this band before and it fucking RULES so first off thanks for pointing me in that direction. second OUGH i can see the Otterslip here. no lyrics in particular stand out to me but the Vibes... man the vibes they fit so well. i can see him singing this to Stormsight, esp since the "the same worms that eat me will one day eat you too" has such a threatening sound to it,,

Poplar St:

MY HEART. god this is so good and it works so well. again no lyrics really stick out to me in particular but MAN. the stress on "free falling love addict" is getting to me. considering Stormsight fell to his death. ouch.

conclusion! these are all fantastic song choices and you are a fucking genius. i'm almost temped to something with Toba the Tura myself, except i know I'd never finish it lmao. and as a side note, if you've never heard the Chonny Jash covers of a lot of Miracle Musical songs i would highly recommend. they aren't for everyone but personally I like them better than some of the originals, even.

and back to the topic of Otterslip: here's all the songs I have on his playlist at the moment (though i will be adding. probably all of the ones youve suggested.) in case you wanted more inspiration or simply some good tunes to listen to.

ty for your wonderful ask!!! you have given me much to think about...

#fallenasks #fallenmusic #dice anon

[solarpiggeh]

Introducing Team ORCT (Orchid)! I did a lineup for my RWBY OCs and their updated designs!! :D I also changed some of their names and details about some of their semblances, so if you're interested I'll include everything below!

Ophelia Rouge (she/her)

An overly confident ram faunus, leader of Team ORCT, and Rica’s girlfriend! Ophelia’s from Mantle, but moved to Vacuo to attend Shade academy. She loves strategizing/planning, as well as a good challenge, so the fact that her own semblance has a limit of uses before affecting herself only adds fuel to her brainstorming, which allows her to patiently observe her opponent while keeping her cards close to the chest before making a move.

Semblance: Contagious Yawn

Her yawns create a bubble that causes a target to fall asleep when popped near them. The amount of time the target sleeps depends on Ophelia’s aura. If her aura breaks while using her semblance, then she risks falling asleep instead!

Weapon: Dust projection worry ring

She has a ring on both hands embedded with ice, fire, rock, and electricity dust that projects a shepherd’s axe made out of whatever dust is being used!

Fairy Tale Inspiration: Little Bo Peep

Rica Venetus (she/her)

An eagle faunus from Mistral who moved to Vacuo to attend Shade Academy. She can give a mean punch and the best hugs, and also Ophelia’s girlfriend! It’s possible that she’d be able to easily hold her own in battle, however, Rica prefers to fight alongside her team. She’s very observant and sensitive to other people’s feelings - so if you’re ever struggling, Rica is the best person to help.

Semblance: Shared Sight

Allows her to bond to at most 3 people at a time, no matter how far they may be, to let them see her POV or vice versa!

Weapon: Multi-Use Dual Blades

Dual blades combine to make a double bladed glaive by connecting the bottom of the handles with gravity dust. When in dual blade form, they can also bend resembling a boomerang

Fairy Tale Inspiration: 'The Griffon' fairy tale

There wasn’t really much for me to work with inspiration wise, but the griffin’s main purpose in the story is so the peasant’s youngest son can retrieve a feather from him. With that in mind, I decided to have a sort of feather motif to her faunus attribute and the shape of the blades to her weapon

Clementine Dandy (she/her)

A soft spoken transfem donkey faunus from Vacuo who doesn’t have the best luck with making new friends (mostly because she never knows what to say), but she seems the most outgoing while in combat. She doesn’t get hot easily despite bundling up for her semblance while living in such a hot region - much to her teammates' confusion. Contradictory to her tendency to overthink when confronted with conversation, she’s painfully oblivious whenever thinking about herself.

Semblance: Cloth & Dagger

Manipulation of any article of clothing on her person for offensive/defensive purposes

Weapon: Revolver with dust bullets

Fairy Tale Inspiration: Donkey Skin Girl

Thistle Cheshire (they/them)

A fun-loving cat faunus from Vacuo, Thistle is best known for their dexterity, flexibility & ability to make anyone chuckle. They also have a big crush on Clementine, and of course - even though Ophelia and Rica think it’s obvious - Clem is oblivious.

Semblance: Surprise Party!

Allows them to teleport while giving off the image of a ribbon vanishing, and when they reappear bits of ribbon/confetti pop out with them! Limitations of their semblance include:

More aura is used when teleporting anywhere further than 10 ft. (any distance less than 10 ft. requires very little aura)

Over-reliance of semblance = fatigue and dizziness

Teleporting w/ someone is possible, HOWEVER, the amount of aura utilized is multiplied per extra party member.

Weapon: Dust-Infused Yoyo

Various yoyo tricks utilize fire, electricity, gravity, and hard-light dust to enhance the impact of their attacks/defend themself

Fairy Tale Inspiration: Cheshire Cat

For their semblance, I was inspired by the 1951 Alice in Wonderland film's version of Cheshire Cat when he vanishes while sort of leaving a trail of stripes. So I wanted to do something similar!

#character design #rwby #rwbyoc #rwby oc #fan character #oc #original character #art #ophelia #rica #clementine #thistle

[skippyv20]

Notes on a rainy day...

Hi Skippy & Friends-Pilgrim checking in on this holiday Monday. ** The new statue in Boston leaves much to be desired. This is supposed to be about an inspiring love story, celebrating a major international award! The joy of the moment is missing IMHO. 10 million invested, when Boston has so many other big bills to pay with a brand new Govenor taking over just this week...on top of all the "immigrants" that arrive in the dark of night, flown or bussed in that will now be automatically given an official MA driver's liscense and freebie$$? NYC is totally overwhelmed too with "immigrants" along with untold small towns being quietly invaded. The public is not encouraged to mention it because we are told these unvetted people are not really illegal...sooo...does that mean the King in the olde fable WAS wearing clothes???

** How refreshing to see the Duke of Wales speak English correctly. His younger brother seems to think it is proper to say over and over, his pronoun first..."me and my wife" showing how poorly educated many Americans are.

** The portrait drawings of ERII are fantastic. It's hard to believe only 5 months have passed-especially for her family carrying on!!! Barely time to catch ones breath with the powerful images of her funeral; joyful celebrations of her last Jubilee AND the ugly war of the Harkles. ** From the story about her fabulous, sweet PJ brooch...perhaps they will make one with fine crystals in silvertone for those of us who can't afford the real deal. Otherwise I will look for something similar, circle with Lily of the Valley and Thistles. A long time ago I was introduced to collectible costume jewelry which was a major industry right here in New England, mainly Providence, RI. From 1930-60's popular brands signed their jewelry lines which became really collectible due to their fine workmanship, high end crystals, plating and priced for the average lady. In the 80's a couple of Italian collectors published a fabulous "coffee table" book featuring some of their best finds. That began an international collector craze which I joyfully joined by accident. I was lucky to find many beautiful "book pieces" still affordable over the years. Anyhoo, this brooch reminded me of those good times hunting at flea markets and antique malls in cities across the country. Every year I wear a favorite Christmas brooch on my coat. Yesterday I decided to keep this up changing them out for fun, even if brooches aren't in fashion. If ERII thought they were a good thing to wear then why not keep up the tradition in our own little way? If you visit a Canadian site called N & N Vintage Costume Jewelry, Masterpiece section, I think you will find lots to study for inspiration! There are many beautiful books now about who the top designers were and their best pieces.

** With so many difficult things happening around us it is mind blowing to try to take it all in. I admire Princess Anne and Sir Tim Lawrence as they quietly handle massive responsibilities supporting the public. Also, the very busy Catherine, Princess of Wales who simply said when asked about Harolds insulting claims, that she was "baffled." Boom! Right there I sensed the Harkles are toast. Yesterday's news. Tempest in a teapot as in, the ship has left the dock and the sun is sinking in the west...LOL At least one can hope...off to my easel to take care of MY mental health.

Thank you, great post❤️

[thorns-ofthe-thistle]

Cat’s Out of the Bag . [Double T]

@toby-determined

Thistle missed animals. Yes, he could just go in the woods whenever he wanted, and he certainly did, but humans had a funny habit of owning pets indoors. Something that was not necessarily as common in Elfhame, considering most animals had some level of sentience and in the Fenlands especially, they were revered and treated with respect.

He treated the animals here with respect as well, but he was curious about a potential pet. After all, he’d never had one before. There was a vague memory of an alley cat behind his apartment with his mother when he was a boy, but that was about it. 

So, one day, strolling through the woods, when he came across a hissing cat with a thorn in its paw, he scooped it up in his jacket and brought it back to his apartment. He had to hold the yowling thing down as he plucked the thorn from its paw and put a bit of ointment on it, but then he’d realized. Well, look at his luck! Now he had a house cat!

He was feeling very pleased with himself, even as the cat sat in the windowsill, licking its injured paw and glaring at him. The handle on the doorknob turned and the cat’s ears flicked and it raced to the door--

But on its injured paw it was too slow and the door snapped shut. The cat drew up short and hissed up at Toby before turning on its haunches and heading to the counter, where it jumped up to sit on the edge, going back to licking its injured paw, swishing it’s tail angrily. 

“Ah, you’re home! Good,” Thistle said and pointed to the cat. “Toby, meet Thistle. He is going to be staying with us for a while. Do we have any tuna?” He went back to rummaging through the cabinets. 

[outfit]

[picture of Thistle]

#swyntoby #double t #cat's out of the bag #lookbook #introducing thistle's new best friend

[disneytva]

Alice’s Wonderland Bakery Sets February 9th Premiere On Disney Junior And Disney+

“Alice’s Wonderland Bakery,” a fantastical animated series for preschoolers and their families inspired by the world of “Alice in Wonderland,” premieres February 9th 2022, with a simulcast on Disney Channel and Disney Junior (10:30 a.m. EST/PST). 

The first five episodes will also premiere the same day on on-demand platforms and streaming on Disney+.

Featuring reimagined versions of familiar iconic characters and introducing memorable new ones, the series stars newcomer Libby Rue as the voice of Alice and a slew of celebrity guest stars. A video featurette highlighting the cast was released today

n addition to Rue, the lead voice cast includes Abigail Estrella (“How the Grinch Stole Christmas!”) as Princess Rosa, the Princess of Hearts and Alice’s most artistic friend; CJ Uy (“The Ball Method”) as Hattie, a “mad-hatter” boy and Alice’s silliest friend; Jack Stanton (“Outmatched”) as Fergie the White Rabbit, Alice’s best friend and biggest fan; Secunda Wood (“Jurassic World: Camp Cretaceous”) as Cookie, the magical cookbook that once belonged to Alice’s great grandmother; and Audrey Wasilewski (“Mad Men”) as Dinah, Alice’s pet cat who is always at her side. Max Mittelman (“Spider-Man”) recurs as Cheshire Cat, Alice’s mysterious and playful friend and one of the most iconic Wonderland characters.

Notable recurring and series guest stars include Craig Ferguson (“The Late, Late Show with Craig Ferguson”) as Doorknob; Eden Espinosa (Disney’s “Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure”) as Rosa’s mother, The Queen of Hearts; GRAMMY® Award winner Jon Secada (“Just Another Day”) as Rosa’s grandfather, The King of Hearts; Vanessa Bayer and Bobby Moynihan (“Saturday Night Live”) as twins Tweedle Do and Tweedle Don’t; Donald Faison (“Scrubs”) as Harry the March Hare; Rich Sommer (“Mad Men”) as Captain Dodo; Yvette Nicole Brown (Disney’s “The Chicken Squad”) as Mama Rabbit; Ana Gasteyer (“Saturday Night Live”) as Kiki; Lamorne Morris (“New Girl”) as Dandy; Matthew Moy (“2 Broke Girls”) as David of Spades; and Lesley Nicol (“Downton Abby”) as Iris. The series also features Broadway stars Ali Stroker (“Oklahoma!”) as Daisy, Melissa van der Schyff (“Bonnie and Clyde”) as Jojo, James Monroe Iglehart (“Aladdin”) as Oliver, Mandy Gonzalez (“Hamilton”) as Mother Rose, Christopher Fitzgerald (“Waitress”) as Thistle, and George Salazar (“Be More Chill”) as Dad Hatter.

Disney Consumer Products, Games and Publishing will debut a product line by Just Play inspired by the series featuring dolls, role-play products, figures, and more in Fall 2022. A digital soundtrack featuring songs from the series will be released by Walt Disney Records in February 11th

#Alice's Wonderland Bakery #Alice In Wonderland #Chelsea Beyl #Disney Junior #Disney Jr

[juliandev0rak]

Willa Clary 🌿

the creative magician with a shadowy past

Introducing…

Full name: Willa Clary

Meaning: 

Willa means “resolute protection” and “will, desire” 

Clary is a family name running back many generations, it originally relates to the word “clerk” or “cleric”

Gender: female, she/ her

Birthday: May 3rd

Age (start of story): 27

Orientation: bisexual

Magic: manipulation, telepathy, animal communication/ zoolingualism, clairvoyance, psychometry, potion making

Occupation: magical apothecary owner, farmer, artist

Familiar: Mira, a field mouse

Love interest: Muriel 

Shippable?: shippable!

Theme song: Thistle & Weeds- Mumford & Sons

full playlist

— ALIGNMENTS —

Zodiac signs: 

Sun: Taurus

Moon: Cancer 

Rising: Pisces

MBTI: ISFP

Element: earth

Major Arcana: Strength

UPRIGHT: strength, courage, persuasion, influence, compassion

REVERSED: inner strength, self-doubt, low energy, raw emotion

Minor Arcana: the Queen of Cups

UPRIGHT:  compassionate, caring, emotionally stable, intuitive, in flow

REVERSED: inner feelings, self-care, self-love, codependency

Magic:

— Telepathy: Willa can communicate her thoughts to others through her mind, and she can hear other’s thoughts in return. However, she can’t read minds and hears only what the other person wishes to communicate to her. This power works best with people she is close to and only within a near range

— Manipulation: Willa is able to force others to follow her commands, only those with strong magical abilities can block or avoid her control. She can either place a thought in someone’s mind or verbally communicate her wishes. This is not a power she chooses to use anymore, but it sometimes occurs accidentally in moments of strong emotion

— Zoolingualism: She can communicate with and understand animals of all kinds, both through verbal and telepathic communication. She has some difficulty understanding aquatic animals, and is best at communicating with animals she has a close bond with

— Clairvoyance and Psychometry: Willa has high sensory perception and is able to detect things about people’s pasts and futures by touching them or through psychometry: touching objects owned by those people. These powers only work with people she is close to, and not with any regularity. She also gets flashes of her own future, but she has no way to divine the past or future on her own— the images come to her as if by chance 

— Potions: She works at an apothecary and makes potions to heal a variety of physical and mental ailments. She grows her own herbs and plants for these potions, and while she is not adept at using her magic to physically heal wounds, her healing potions are renowned for their potency

Other abilities: Willa is an accomplished artist and loves to paint scenes of nature as well as portraits of her loved ones, she also knits and sews and makes most of her own clothing, she can sing well and is an excellent cook, she has a green thumb and enjoys gardening and cultivating plants

— PERSONALITY & PREFERENCES —

Personality: 

Willa is often outgoing and cheerful, and nearly always has a smile on her face. She loves to make new friends and has no trouble interacting with strangers or crowds. She was very shy and withdrawn as a child, but as she grew older Willa grew into her confidence and enjoys being around others. However, she is an introvert at heart and prefers to surround herself with a smaller inner circle and needs frequent alone time to recharge. 

Willa is kind and gentle, seeking to help others whenever she can. She seeks harmony and often finds herself as a peacemaker in times of conflict. Willa cares deeply about those she loves and is loyal nearly to a fault. She can be very stubborn, and when she’s decided on an opinion of someone it is difficult for her to change it. She likes to be right, and she likes doing things her own way. Willa can be a bit particular, but it comes down to her stubborn belief that her way is the best way. She likes to help others, and can sometimes help too much and risk suffocating or being clingy with her loved ones. 

While she has a wide assortment of acquaintances, her inner circle of close friends and family are her focus and she is always willing to drop anything to help them. Though she loves to help others, Willa is very independent and does not like to rely on others. She can be impulsive and loves to try new things, often jumping from one hobby to another without finishing previous projects. Willa can also be a bit impatient, but has learned that good things come to those who wait. 

Mental health: Willa faced traumatic events in her childhood and she suffers from nightmares and occasional panic attacks as a result 

Likes: soft yarn, fresh bread, cold mornings, sunny afternoons, empty canvases, swimming

Dislikes: greed, eating meat, wearing her glasses, shadows

Fears: hurting a loved one, being trapped (physically or emotionally)

Quirks: she nearly always has dirt or paint under her fingernails and on her clothes, she needs glasses to help her with reading but frequently misplaces them and hardly ever wears them 

Favorite food: strawberry scones

Favorite drink: hot cocoa

Favorite flower: daisies

Favorite color: sage green

Most likely to: paint on the walls

— APPEARANCE —

Height: 5′1 / 155 cm

Eyes: very light blue-grey

Hair: light red / strawberry blonde, wavy, shoulder length and usually half pulled back from her face in a bun or a little pony tail 

Other: fair skin with many freckles, lots of calluses on her hands from her work

Color theme: sage green, mustard yellow, brown, cream, pink

Fashion sense: Willa likes to be comfortable and wears mainly knit items she’s made herself. She wears lots of sweaters and skirts as well as floral dresses and occasionally overalls if she's gardening or working. She prefers light, warm toned colors and makes most of her own clothing. Her favorite clothing item is knit socks and she loves to create intricate patterns of flowers or even animals when she knits them. She wears comfortable boots during the day, and has a pair of yellow rubber boots for when she’s out in the garden.

— FAMILY & BACKGROUND —

Family:

Torin Clary - father - alive  | relationship: strained 

Una Clary - mother - alive  | relationship: strained, nearly nonexistent

Finnegan Clary - older brother - alive | relationship: very close

Eoghan Clary - younger brother - alive | relationship: close 

Fiadh Clary - great aunt - alive | relationship: close 

History:

Hidden on the cliffs of the Rosmare sea lies a small village called Armara. Under a near constant deluge of rain, a small community thrives on farming and fishing. Willa’s family has always lived in Armara, and they always will. The family farm goes back through many generations and it has always been expected that Willa will be there to see it through the next. 

Born to Torin and Una Clary, Willa is the middle child of three and the only daughter. When she was little, her older brother Finnegan was her best friend and she spent her days following him around the farm and learning how to take care of the animals. At three years old Willa told her mother that the sheep could talk, and her mother laughed— thinking it was simply childish imagination. But Willa insisted, the sheep really could talk, and so could the cows and the pigs and even the birds who nest in the trees. Her mother often found her talking to the farm animals, seemingly carrying on full conversations. As she got older, her parents tried to break her from this “childish fantasy”, it wasn’t real and there was no place for fantasy in Armara.

When she was six, Willa’s younger brother Eoghan was born. From birth he was perfect, everything their parents had hoped for in a child. He was kind, quiet, and more than content to do farm work and listen to his parents unlike his older siblings. Finnegan had always been a dreamer, never content to stay in one place or live the simple life laid out for him. He spent his time writing poetry and music, and dreaming of going somewhere —anywhere — other than Armara. Willa took after Finnegan, and she spent most of her childhood longing to be somewhere else. 

Willa found this escape in her dreams, which were vivid and even frightening at times. She often had dreams about a city, a place she’d never seen in real life. In her dreams Willa was an adult, grown up and able to do strange things, magical things. She tried to copy the magic when she was awake, lifting leaves without touching them, changing the color of her hair to whatever she wanted, and she found that the powers she had in her dreams were real. Willa showed her parents her newly found powers but instead of being excited, they were terrified. 

Generations before Willa was born, Armara had been a place steeped in magic. People worshiped the old gods, they used magic freely and passed it on to others, they lived at peace with nature and with the spiritual forces of the land around them. But over time the old gods faded away in favor of a new one and magic was branded as witchcraft, wickedness, evil. Those who practiced it weren’t welcome in the village, and by the time Willa was born Armara had become a deeply superstitious place. The name “witch” was given to anyone different, and the only way to thrive in Armara was to fit in. 

So Willa was told to hide her magic, to never show it to anyone and to forget she had ever had it. She spent every Sunday morning at the old stone church with the rest of the village listening to a priest talk about the horrible fate that would befall anyone who chose to practice witchcraft. Aside from attending church, Willa’s parents tried to keep her away from others, always afraid she’d slip up and reveal her powers to someone else.

Inevitably, one of her neighbors spotted Willa practicing magic behind the barn, and the whole village was caught up in the panic. Her parents were told to send her away, out of Armara to somewhere she could be “safe” and learn to repent from her wicked ways. Her parents refused, but Willa was ostracized and forced to stay away from the others. She was no longer allowed to play with any of the other village children lest her evil was contagious. Willa was a witch, and witches didn’t belong in Armara.

Despite her relative isolation, Armara was a beautiful place to grow up. Willa had her animal friends and her brothers, and she made her first real friend when she was 9, a girl named Isolde. Her parents didn’t understand her and the village hated her, but she continued to study her magic in private, learning the bounds of her abilities. She continued to have dreams about the city, and she often asked her parents if she could someday travel to find this city. Every time they forbid her from leaving— Armara was her home, she had a duty to the family and the land. Willa felt trapped, she wasn’t accepted in Armara but she couldn’t leave. 

One night under the light of a full moon, Willa went into the woods after dark, something she had been warned against since childhood. The people of Armara did not believe in the old gods anymore, but they still feared their power which was said to be strongest in the woods. The villagers did not worship the old gods, but that night Willa did. She prayed to the spirits of the wind and the trees, she dipped her toes in the freezing cold stream and prayed to the spirits of water, but no one answered. Finally in desperation she began to pray to the shadows, the very darkness around her, and she got an answer.

“What is it you want?” the shadows asked.

“Nobody ever listens to me!” Willa cried, “I want a way out of here.”

The deal was struck, though Willa did not know then how dearly she would pay for her new found power. When she returned home she found that suddenly, everyone listened to her. She asked for something and found three hands holding it out for her, she told her mother she wanted to go into town and, for once, was allowed to go. Her wish was everyone’s command and at first the power was intoxicating. But one day, she found that the unlimited power she’d been given could have grave consequences.

Willa had an argument with her younger brother Eoghan, a simple sibling squabble over whose turn it was to do a chore. She generally got along with her brothers, they were among the only people in Armara who didn’t look at her in fear or derision, but Eoghan was mad. He called Willa a witch, a term only those who hated her used. Willa was angry and hurt, and when she shouted, “You shut your mouth Eoghan Clary!” she didn’t expect her magic to take over. Willa watched in horror as Eoghan’s mouth snapped shut, his lips pulling together like they’d been sewn closed. She tried everything to fix it, commanding him to open his mouth, telling him to speak, but the magic stuck. 

As the days went by with no change, her family panicked. Eoghan’s mouth was still stuck shut and it was only a matter of time before he died of thirst or hunger. So Willa went back to the woods at night to beg for the shadows help once more. She didn’t want this power anymore, she only wanted her brother.

“What will you give?” the shadows asked.

“Anything.” 

When she returned home Eoghan’s curse had been lifted, but she found her parents even more furious than before. Eoghan had nearly lost his life as a result of her magic, so it was decided that Willa must be sent away. She had wanted out of Armara, but when faced with the prospect of leaving her family behind, Willa was terrified. She begged them to stay, but she had lost her power of manipulation and her parents were resolute. 

The next morning, Willa went to pay her friend Isolde a visit before she left. When she knocked on the door, Isolde’s grandfather opened it, his tear-streaked face shocking Willa. She learned that her friend had died suddenly the night before, healthy and alive one moment and gone the next. Though there was no proof, Willa knew her deal had caused this. A life for a life, Eoghan had been saved in exchange for Isolde’s life. 

The next day, on her 15th birthday, Willa’s parents sent her off to a city called Vesuvia to live with her Great Aunt Fiadh. Fiadh was her grandmother’s sister and many years earlier she’d been sent away by her own family under similar conditions. Witches were not allowed in Armara, but it seems they were welcomed with open arms in Vesuvia. When she arrived in the city, Willa realized that this was the place she’d been dreaming of for so long. She loved Vesuvia, she finally had a chance to practice her magic in a place where people accepted her. 

Willa flourished in the city, though she missed the nature that had surrounded her at home and the family she’d had to leave behind. Away from Armara, she began to heal, and though the guilt of what happened with Isolde didn’t go away, it was easier to deal with in a new place. She met a new friend, a magician named Asra, and began to learn how to control her powers. When the plague came to Vesuvia, she knew she needed to help as many people as she could. Willa still felt as if she had sins to atone for, and she couldn’t ignore the suffering around her even as Asra and her Great Aunt Fiadh begged her to leave the city.

When Willa contracted the plague and passed away, Fiadh ventured back to Armara to share the terrible news. Finnegan travelled back to Vesuvia with her and they held a proper funeral and mourned Willa together. He decided to stay in Vesuvia with his great aunt, and when Willa was miraculously brought back to life, Finnegan was there to help her recover.  

As she got her memories back, Willa remembered the deal she’d made and the terrible price she’d paid to obtain power. She never forgave herself for what happened, and vowed to never use her powers again. But over time, and with the help of her friends and family, Willa began to move on and learn to control her powers again instead of running from them.

Post-canon, Willa still runs the apothecary shop with her Great Aunt Fiadh, but she spends most of her time out at her farm in the forest. She’s done enough world-saving for one lifetime, and enjoys a quiet life of creativity and spending time with her loved ones. Though her life is mostly peaceful, Willa still finds herself wary of the woods at night and she sometimes feels as if the shadows are watching her.

Five facts:

Willa uses her magic to enchant her knitting with protection and warmth charms

she carries her sketchbook with her everywhere and often stops to draw a passing stranger or a pretty flower in inspiration strikes

she’s a vegetarian

she’s left handed, which was seen as a bad omen in her hometown, her mother tried to train her to use her right hand but she refused to change

Willa knits sweaters and hats for the animals she cares for, and she lets them pick out the yarn

notes: my sweet flower gal :’) i love her

thank you as always to @leila-of-ravens​ for the bio template and to all of my lovely mutuals who have loved Willa along with me 💗

#willa my dearest darlingist girl #🐭🌼🍓 #willa wednesday #my cottagecore pinterest board has been Thriving because of her #she's fantasy irish and fantasy catholic #in case that wasn't clear lol #her bio started getting so long but i decided to just leave it all in so y'all are welcome lol #might fuck around and make a deal with eldritch spirits in the woods #willa: fucks around willa: finds out #apprentice willa #willa clary #finnegan clary #eoghan clary #i want to make an Armara lore post sometime in the future bc i had a lot of fun thinking about the village #i also want to write the full fic about her deal 👀 someday..

[just-another-ficwriter]

Holidate - Part Two

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Words: 1600ish

Warning: Mentions of sex, alcohol, overbearing parents

Summary: Tired of being alone on holidays, Sweet Pea and Y/N decide to be each other’s plationic plus-ones all year round. What could go wrong?

Notes: Next update will be Valentine’s Day!

New Years Eve 2021

Sweet Pea’s still a little confused by it all when he finds himself waiting for her outside Thistle House five days later.

He’d laughed for a solid five minutes while she’d explained the whole thing, picked at little flaws in her otherwise perfect plan, would anyone really believe they were together just like that, and then found him self instantly saying yes when she asks again despite it all.

Maybe it was the hopeful look in her eyes. Maybe it’s because he knew deep down anything is better than spending New Years Eve alone.

Or maybe it was simply the attractive woman asking him on a fake date with no strings attached, an easy solution to both their problems that might actually work.

He’d nodded in agreement when she’d suggested they put some rules in place, invisible barriers to help this run as smoothly as possible.

“No sex.”

“Not a problem.” He leans over the table, shoving a fistful of fries into his mouth to stifle a groan. It hadn’t meant to come out like that. Y/N huffs, only mildly offended that he’d so easily accepted. She flicks him off in response, a roll of her eyes. “Okay rule number two, this isn’t some New Years romance, no falling in love with me at midnight.”

She snorts, directs the curly fry away from her mouth and at his head instead. “I’ll try my best.”

“Speaking of midnight.” He raises an eyebrow as a flicker of curiosity erupts in his mind while he tries to guess where this is going. “I’m not kissing you, fake date or not.”

He laughs, a wicked grin pulling at his lips, a quick wink that’s almost missed as he reaches for the fry basket once again. “We’ll see.”

“Sorry I’m late.” He turns to see her rushing up behind, hand pulling down at the hem of her dress, not that it was doing much. “My Mom became insufferable when I said I had a date.”

He opens his mouth to say something, but can’t quite pick the right words. Y/N’s fast to notice the way his eyes widen, watches them slowly travel from her face down to her legs and back up again.

She’ll give him this much, she thinks, she is his date after all, and she’ll be the first to admit the dress is out of the ordinary for her - a pale pink glittery number that stops short on her thighs and shows a little more cleavage than she’s used to.

“Anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” She hides the warmth darkening her cheeks with a smirk, laughs when his eyes snap back to hers a little embarrassed and doesn’t let herself think too much about the shadow of a smile on his lips.

“You look hot.” So maybe he’d had a few beers before hand, and maybe he’s a little buzzed, but Y/N looks gorgeous and he didn’t have a problem telling her that. There wasn’t a need for a filter tonight, he didn’t need to impress her like this thing between them was real. She just scoffs, shoves playfully at his shoulders. “What? I can say that because you’re my date.”

An eye roll on her behalf, an arm looping through his, a grin forming on both their faces as they move forward. “I suppose you don’t look too bad yourself.”

They barely make it a few steps insides before Toni spots them, waving with her free hand while a cocktail occupies her other. “Y/N!”

“I’m so glad you made it.” The two jump into a hug, squeezing at each other shoulders while Sweet Pea distracts himself with the giant Christmas tree that stands tall in the centre of the room. He’s pretty sure he’s never seen anything like it.

Toni almost does a double take when she sees him, pulling back from Y/N so she can look between them both. “Wait a second- did you two come together?”

“Kind of.” Sweet Pea shrugs like it’s not important, exchanges a worried glance down at Y/N. If anyone’s going to see through this whole farcade it’s Toni.

“Huh.” He watches her whole face light up at the idea, her arm now wrapped lazily around Y/N’s waist, it’s easy to see how close they are. “I never saw that coming, I should have introduced you sooner.”

-

“Okay look at those pair.” Sweet Pea tilts his beer bottle, gesturing towards the edge of the makeshift dance floor where a couple moved wildly together, bodies grinding in a way that was almost too inappropriate for public.

She feels like she’s intruding just by looking in their direction. “A little raunchy for a public event don’t you think?”

“Definitely a new couple starting out, all that passion-“ She shuddered while he smirks, knocks back what’s left in her wine glass before tapping at his shoulder and nodded in the opposite direction, continuing their game of people watching. It had been a fun way to pass the time; he’d made her laugh, and it was much better than following her sisters or Toni around, miserably surrounded by other couples.

“What about him?” Sweet Pea follows her gaze, eyes landing on a man that keeps wringing his hands nervously, a shine of sweat on his forehead as he anxiously speaks to the girl next to him.

“Easy.” He raises the beer to his lips, takes a quick sip while she waits for him to elaborate. “He’s proposing at midnight.”

“You think?”

“Look at him, he’s a wreck.” She laughs, about to add that maybe he just doesn’t like to dance when something else catches his eye and he’s pointing off to the side. “Now, how about those two?”

Y/N cranes her neck, tries to find the couple he’s talking about and almost falls off her chair in disbelief. Stood at the back of the room, almost concealed by darkness, making out like two teenagers- “Oh my god that’s my Mom!”

Sweet Pea chokes in shock, narrowing his eyes, straining to get a better look. “Is that FP?”

Y/N groans beside him, the sound audible over the heavy bass of the music pulsing around the room. “I need another drink.”

-

“She just doesn’t get it.” A few hours in and Y/N starts to slur slightly, red wine nearly spilling from its glass as she waves it around frantically, trying to get her point across. “Maybe I don’t want to settle down.”

“You don’t?” He eyes her from behind his glass of whiskey. An uneasy feeling settles over his chest, one that shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t care if she wants to settle down or not.

“I mean not right now.” She shrugs, and her whole body slumps. There’s more to the story there, something she isn’t sharing but Sweet Pea decides not pry. Not that she gives him a chance to anyway. “I know it’s only because she cares, but sometimes I just wish she wouldn’t. You know?”

He nods, and for the first time that night a silence falls between them and Sweet Pea finds his heart sinking at the look at her face. So he leans over, plucks the glass from hand, and replaces it with his own. “Dance with me?”

“Lead the way.” She laughs, letting him yank her towards the dance floor. Normally she wouldn’t bother, she wasn’t exactly know for dancing at these things, but all the alcohol definitely helped. And as they both giggle, getting used to spinning each other in circles and jumping around, they music starts to slow.

Sweet Pea doesn’t hesitate, wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her towards his chest. She doesn’t register the countdown sounding around them, content with swaying back and fore, her head on his shoulder. But then he spins her out in front, pulls her back into him with a gentle tug just as the crowd yells ‘one’ and kisses her without thinking.

Her lips still tingle with the rule break when they pull away. “What was that?”

He nods subtly over her shoulder, asks her not to turn around to suddenly before explaining. “You’re Mom’s watching, gotta make it believable right?”

She feels a little queasy.

-

The Uber ride back to her apartment is filled with an unbearable silence. The kiss had thrown things off balance between them, and when she’d awkwardly offered to find her own way home he’d refused, insisted on making sure she got home safe.

“So tonight wasn’t awful.” He states, teasing her. If the car wasn’t so dark, he’d have seen the way she blushed.

“Yeah it was fun.” She agrees, and then they’re quiet again, a tension growing thick between them.

It isn’t until the car stops outside her home that he speaks up once more. “So uh- do you think you’d need Holidate for Valentine’s Day?”

“That’s in February.” She gasps, shaking her head at the idea. “Who says we won’t have found someone real by then.”

Her words make his throat burn. “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared. Plus FP throws this whole family day thing for the workers at the garage, would be nice to show up with someone that isn’t my best friend and his boyfriend...”

“Well then, I have your number-“ She reaches for the door handle, pushes it open and steps into the cold night air. “I’ll text you if I’m free.”

And then she’s gone, a door slamming shut in her wake and Sweet Pea’s left wondering if he’ll ever see her again.

Sweet Pea Masterlist

Forever Taglist: @p-marie-sp

Sweet Pea Taglist: @80sand90simagine @wildberryyyy @hopelesslylosttheway @be-gay-do-crime-cutie

Holidate Taglist: @popcrone818 @dcnerd98

#riverdale #riverdale au #riverdale one shot #riverdale series #riverdale edit #riverdale sweet pea #riverdale fanfiction #sweet pea #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea imagine #sweet pea one shot #sweet pea au #sweet pea edit #Holidate #Holidate au

[monsterywriting]

Thenerius - pt 4

masterlist

word count: 7,146

AN: slight warning for mentions of animal death/general farm stuff. i tried not to write anything too graphic, but i realize what may seem pg for me may not be for everyone! i think i made up for it in the end, though :)

When you arrived back home from Alfore, you made a beeline to your room, leaving Thenerius to unload what you bought. From your desk, you grab a few blank sheets of paper from your stack and a pen, writing out a list of chores for Thenerius to do with detailed instructions underneath each numbered task.

By the time you finished and returned back outside to meet Thenerius, you’d filled out two of the papers front and back.

“Do you know how to read?” You ask as you hold out the papers for him to take.

“Of course,” he scoffs as he does, scanning the pages.

You blink at his unexpected reaction, attempting to alleviate his defensiveness, “No shame if you couldn’t. Some of the wealthiest people in the capital couldn’t. That’s what they hired so many scribes for.”

“Well, I said I can,” Thenerius not quite snapped, but he was clearly getting more wound up from you pushing the subject. You realized too late that your response came across as skeptic.

“All right. I put the faster jobs first and the longer ones last,” you say instead, opting to smooth over the topic entirely, “Don’t worry about finishing all of it today, I just wrote what I could think of. I’ll be back.”

“Wait, you’re leaving again so soon?” Thenerius looked up from the list at you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I have to go to The Deep,” you reply, “It will be fast, just returning something and coming back.”

“What about the rabbits?” He asked, following you into the barn. You had nearly forgotten, the four creatures sitting quietly in their cage sitting in the barn.

“Clear out one of the empty stables and put them in there. All they need is hay and clean water for now,” you worry your bottom lip before continuing, “I don’t… normally leave so often when I’m not working.”

You’re not sure where the need to explain yourself comes from, nor why you feel placated when Thenerius seemingly accepts it.

You clear your throat, taking Horse by his reins and walking out the barn, “Then you can get started on that list.”

Horse makes it immediately clear he isn’t happy to be ridden again so soon - testing your commands to move and only going forward when you press your heels into his belly - but you know he’ll calm down once you reach The Deep and bribe him with a sack full of oats.

You enter The Deep in record time through the side door near the stables that lead directly into the kitchens. There was no one in there besides the new girl, who jumped and nearly collided into the large pot she stood in front of when she turned around to see you standing there, collecting herself and whispering a near inaudible ‘hello’.

She was painfully shy and as quiet as a mouse, and you couldn’t remember her name despite knowing you’d been introduced before. She couldn’t meet your gaze directly, something you knew not to take personally as she avoided everyone’s. You couldn’t help but wonder what she would do once the tavern got busy and all available hands were needed taking and serving orders.

“I need to find Lenora,” you interrupt her rambled apologies, having no patience waiting for the girl to form a sentence, “Is she in her room?”

“Uh—actually, Mr. Thistle is looking for you,” she said, shrinking back when you blinked at her - as though you were a ticking bomb waiting to blow. It dawned on you that this was not her normal aversion to social situations, realizing everyone already knew you spat with Lenora earlier. Great.

“I understand,” you say as gently as you can, “but I need to speak with Lenora, first.”

You emphasize speak, and after a moment’s hesitation, the girl nodded, looking around before whispering, “Mr. Thistle is working at the bar right now. You have to go back around to the main entrance.”

You nod your appreciation, stepping back out and going back around the building to the entrance to the inn portion, passing the main desk with a nod to the person working and climbing up the stairs. You knock softly on Lenora’s door, not wanting to draw the attention of Mr. Thistle, who had full view of you standing on the balcony if he were to look up.

As soon as you hear the door unlock, you push your way in and close it behind you, pausing once you see Lenora’s tear-streaked face. You had been until that point rehearsing what you would say, only planning on saying your piece and then leaving. Now, however, the words eluded you, seeming simultaneously too far and too little. When you finally managed to push them out, it was with a much less certain execution than you had imagined.

“I brought back your coins,” you fish the coin purse out of your bodice and force it into Lenora’s hands, “If you were meaning to trick me into taking them, you shouldn’t have used the embroidered one I gave you.”

Lenora turned over the small bag, her mouth falling open in a small ‘o’ once she saw the leaping frog, her thumb running over the vibrantly colored thread.

“Thenerius told me you thought I was… troubled. In the mind,” you continue awkwardly, going off script, the impromptu speech bursting forth now that you were in front of your friend, “I- I understand your concern. It doesn’t excuse what you did - it was incredibly stupid - but I understand it.”

“You’re right,” Lenora sniffled, tears gathering anew in her already red eyes, “I know I don’t deserve to ask for your forgiveness, but I just didn’t know how to get through to you—so I made a decision. A bad one, that only brought you trouble.

“I heard you speaking with Mr. Thistle that day. How you needed more shifts and- and gold. I knew you wouldn’t any of out help so I thought… Thenerius would be the best bet to help.”

“I’m not… as angry,” you finally admit, taking a long pause to take in the information and form an opinion. It’s true. You know firsthand that worry and desperation can drive a person to take drastic measures, and though you can’t forgive Lenora entirely just yet, you can’t fault her in trying to help.

“Has Thenerius come back to the inn already? I’m sorry I didn’t think matters through-”

“No,” you shake your head, wording the next sentence out of your mouth very carefully, “Actually, he’s staying with us for now. He agreed to work for room and board.”

“What?!” Lenora exclaimed, her recalcitrance forgotten for the moment with the potential gossip, “Tell me everything! Have you slept together yet?”

“Not telling,” you smile coyly, trying your best to come across as though you’re hiding the most passionate night of your life, the full details of which filled with debauchery just waiting for a listening ear, “That’s your punishment.”

You leave Lenora there, her pleas for mercy and just a yes or no falling on deaf ears. Rather than head back out the main entrance, however, you go to the stairs leading down into the tavern, Mr. Thistle immediately noticing you from the bar and watching your descent closely.

“I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you until your next shift,” he said as soon as you reached the bar counter, wasting no time getting straight to the point with his usual bluntness, “What happened between you and Lenora?”

“Personal matters, boss,” you reply with a glance at the lone customer sitting on the far end of the bar, “Sorry it happened at work. It won’t happen again.”

A blatant lie. A week couldn’t pass without someone getting annoyed at someone else at work and starting fights - most much more eventful and public than your and Lenora’s brief exchange of words.

Mr. Thistle looked up at the balcony, then at you, “I take it that means everything has already been settled. I don’t suppose you would be willing to tell me what exactly it was about, then?”

“Nope,” you answer cheerfully, “Now, it’s my day off and you very specifically said you did not want to see me for a whole week, so I’ll leave you to it.”

You could hear Mr. Thistle mutter something about how you all always closed ranks on him once you headed towards the kitchen, but he waved you off nonetheless.

“Wait!” You stopped at the sudden call of your name, just about to step outside, turning to see Lenora and the other girl holding a wrapped cylinder. Food.

You accept the gift with a nod, stepping out into the courtyard with a vastly improved state of mind and a considerable weight off your shoulders, ready to return home and finally eat.

When you do return once again for hopefully the final time that week, Thenerius was hammering away on the barn roof.

You hop off of Horse, looking up at the tiefling in disbelief. Replacing the old shingles had been the seventh or eighth item on your list and you hadn’t been gone long. You couldn’t believe Thenerius could have finished every task before that one in the time it took you to go to The Deep and back.

When he noticed your arrival, Thenerius made his way down the ladder to meet you leading Horse into the barn, still carrying the meal Lenora had packed for you. He was drenched in sweat and had shred his outer layers despite the frigid air, the sun beating down thanks to the cloudless sky.

“You’ve already finished the first page?” You called out once he was within hearing range, hopping off the last rung of the ladder and onto solid ground.

“First page?” He echoes questioningly, your stomach sinking until he lets out a sharp bark of laughter at your reaction.

“Don’t scare me like that!” You let out the breath you had held, looking out at the rest of the homestead, “You mended the fences?”

“Yes.”

“Cleaned out the chicken litter?”

“Did that first.”

“Then took it to the compost?”

“If you’d like, you can go through the list yourself to check,” Thenerius offered, his shoulders shaking as he laughed.

“No. No, that’s fine,” you reply, embarrassed by your own micromanaging before remembering the food and holding it up, “I brought lunch. Go rinse off in the river or something while I reheat this.”

The house is much warmer than outside, your mother or Thenerius apparently taking advantage of the new firewood.

Thenerius enters the house just as you’re setting down the plates, looking like an illustration from a strip in a newspaper you remember seeing once - a man who fell into a freezing lake and becomes an icicle.

You peer out the window, barely noticing how dark it suddenly was, clouds obscuring the sun and the tops of the trees bowing to the wind - certainly making the trek back from the river miserable.

“Go sit in front of the fire, quickly,” you wince half with pity, grabbing one of his folded blankets and throwing it around the tiefling’s shoulders as soon as he was seated in the warm glow of the fire, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would get cloudy.”

“How the hell can anyone get in that water?” Thenerius gritted out through chattering teeth, shivering uncontrollably now that he was beginning to thaw out, “I think my stones are still inside my body…”

“The water feels quite nice in the summer,” your mother suddenly appears behind you, both you and Thenerius twisting around to stare at her slack-jawed. Her response to the former made it clear she had heard the latter comment.

You can’t contain your laughter, doubling over when you turn and see Thenerius’ mortified expression - and your mother’s amusement with the situation only fueled your own. It gave you the perfect excuse to not see how he watches you, his embarrassed grimace fading into a soft smile at your mirth while your mother watches the entire interaction with an unreadable expression.

You know she immediately catches on to the significance of Thenerius’ meaningful look, the entire reason for his sudden appearance into your lives undoubtedly obvious to her now.

“Everybody go sit,” you are still slightly winded by your outburst but considerably subdued as you walk over to your chair and plop down, taking a sip from your ale - a generous addition to the peace offering from Lenora.

The smell of the warm stew was heavenly for your senses - beef tips, carrot and potatoes all cooked in bone broth - making your mouth water at the sight. Cows were rare in these parts, Mr. Thistle the only owner of a herd for miles. Beef was the primary dish of The Deep, Mr. Thistle also offering deliveries during the holidays for those who had the gold to spend on it.

“Did Lenora make this?” Your mother breathed in deeply, both her and Thenerius clearly having the same reaction to the food as you did.

You shake your head, wasting no time taking a spoonful in your mouth, “The new girl. Applied to be a barmaid, but truthfully, her talents are as a cook.”

“The quiet one?” Your mother smiled knowingly, “I must agree she’s much better than you or I, though you’ve been making some improvements.”

You roll your eyes at the teasing jab, mirroring her smile as you chuckled. You weren’t a bad cook, but you were no chef, your own cooking style having only a goal of ‘edible’, “I helped in part, at least - harvesting the meat.”

“You slaughtered the animal?” Thenerius interjects - no judgement in his tone but definitely curiosity.

“Of course,” you laugh, nearly choking on your ale in the process, “Where do you think all the meat you’ve been eating comes from? A grocer?”

The conversation continues easily, your bellies filling with seconds and then thirds with ale still left over. You notice that Thenerius stops drinking long before your mother or you. It’s because he isn’t in the company of his crew, you try to tell yourself, but you can’t help the feeling of guilt that gnaws at you saying otherwise - that he was able to stop now that you weren’t continuously serving him.

“I’ll wash the dishes,” your mother grunts, gathering the empty plates before you can even think about getting up. You’re all too happy to let her, glad to see her so invigorated for the first time in a long while. You yourself feel your eyelids begin to grow heavy, the sheer amount of food you consumed beckoning for you to take a nap.

“I should keep working on the list, too,” Thenerius said, beginning to rise.

You place your hand on the crook of his elbow to stop him, “You’ve been up since before dawn and you’ve gotten plenty done today. You shouldn’t overwork yourself now.”

“I’ve had harder jobs. I can handle some farm work,” Thenerius snorted, dismissing your advice and standing without so much as a grunt as though to prove his point, “I’m a pirate, remember?.”

You shrug, too sleepy to seriously argue with his pride. Farm work was definitely different to manning a boat with the wind and current doing most of the work. And he also had an entire crew to rely on - here it was just him and you. The first day you worked on the homestead after so many years, you hadn’t been able to get out of bed the next day. However, you decide as Thenerius leaves to finish the shingles, it was no skin off your back if he woke up sore the next day. Either way, he was still going to work - he had to help you castrate the goats, along with all the other daily chores and whatever you wouldn’t get to on the list today.

You grab two woven baskets from the kitchen and go outside soon after Thenerius leaves, wishing the sun was still out as you walk to the vegetable garden downhill behind the pasture, a buffer between the animals’ waste and the river when it rained.

The rest of your very short afternoon is spent there, meticulously going down each row on your hands and knees pulling out the seemingly endless weeds that grew in your absence, tossing them onto the grass. Once you were confident that you got every last sprout, you began to harvest some of the tubers, yielding a good amount of carrots, potatoes and even a few onions.

Once the sun kissed the treetops and you were engulfed in the shadow of the barn from where you worked in the garden, you began the long process of drawing a bath, hauling bucket after bucket to the house. The sun sets by the time you finish, the water steaming invitingly. Your mother goes first, and you enter right after her.

You relax in the hot water, perfectly contented with your day and more at ease than you had been in a long time, something you couldn’t have imagined when Thenerius first showed up at your home and upended your quiet existence. You look up at the heavens, still able to make out the vast array of stars even through the steam rising to the sky. You watch in quiet awe for a while, only absentmindedly attending to actually bathing.

You only just stepped out the bathroom when Thenerius finally returns, your mother nearly done with dinner.

He seemed in high spirits, nowhere near as fatigued as you had been on your first day. You would never admit that you were wrong to Thenerius, but you definitely weren’t complaining if it meant he would be able to work the next day.

You go  to sleep early, eating while Thenerius was bathing and fast asleep by the time he gets out, tired after all the running around and the emotional mountains and valleys you endured with Lenora.

You don’t dream that night, waking suddenly with the sun still well below the horizon and the rooster not yet crowing his song. You get up anyways, actually feeling well-rested and not nearly as dreadful as you normally did after your days off, having done admittedly little hard labor yourself that day.

After changing into clean day clothes, you trudge into the kitchen to make coffee, Thenerius still snoring in his cot as you pass. He sleeps through the rooster’s first crow, and you let him rest until the morning fog receded from the field and the sky brightened from a dim gray to silver just before the sun broke the horizon.

When you finally do rouse him - first whispering his name and then shaking his shoulder - Thenerius startles, a pained groan leaving him before any coherent word. You hide your smirk, knowing now was not the time for an ‘I told you so’ no matter how deserved, simply waiting patiently for Thenerius to stretch his back, four distinct pops his reward.

“Have some coffee, then meet me in the barn,” you say quietly, waiting to leave until Thenerius nods in acknowledgement, with obvious difficulty.

It was freezing outside, the temperature having dropped significantly overnight, but you forgo your new fur coat, not wanting to get blood on it. You get the hardest part of the entire process done first - separating the three male kids from the herd. You let them out of their stable and into the larger barn area, the group going straight to the far door out of habit. Instead of releasing them immediately out to pasture, you picked out and carried each boy one by one into the empty stall next to the rabbits before letting the rest out and shutting the door behind them. The kids weren’t happy, bleating loudly and standing on their hind legs at the stall door to try to see where their mothers had gone, but the rabbits seemed unperturbed by their temporary neighbors as they continued nibbling their hay.

Thenerius trudges slowly in as you’re putting the loudest two month old in the tipping table, bags like bruises under his eyes.

“You’ll be helping me castrate the boys today,” you announce, handing Thenerius a pump bottle of brown liquid, “This is antiseptic. Your job is to spray them with it afterwards.”

Thenerius glances as the cleaned and sharpened knife in your hand and then at the goat on the table, appearing confused, “You mean-?”

You waste no time, not wanting to keep the kid restricted and stressed longer than necessary, rubbing a numbing paste on the area before making the first incision.

Thenerius is pale as he sprays the final goat, all blood drained from his face as you right the table and release him to waddle back to the large stable to join the other two. You wipe your hands the best you can on your skirt before handing Thenerius the bucket with the discarded testes to give to the chickens. He looks shellshocked, no doubt empathizing with the emasculated goats, even if his pain was an entirely different sort.

“I’ll give you the list of daily chores you’ll be needing to do from now on, then you can get started on whatever you didn’t finish on the list yesterday,” you said, not at all reveling in Thenerius’ stricken look, knowing he couldn’t argue with you after you had so specifically warned him about the very pain he was currently experiencing.

Before anything else, you check to make sure the goats had plenty of hay to feed on since they wouldn’t be out grazing for a while. After washing the blood from your hands and knife, you spend the morning fencing off the area on the side of the barn where the rabbits were kept, the temporary housing working out so well you decided to make it permanent rather than make a hutch from scratch. You would simply cut out a door in the side of the barn that could be opened to let them out to graze in the miniature pasture in the spring. You dug out holes for the fence posts, your plan to eventually make a fence of chickenwire high enough none of the rabbits would be able to jump over it.

Once you were done plotting out the fence, you began the tedious process of tilling the soil inside the fenced area, careful to keep the chunks of pure sod undisturbed. In the newly bare patches, you planted the leftover winter pea seeds from the main pasture.

By the time noon came and went, you had largely forgotten about Thenerius, lost in your work and only catching fleeting glimpses of him in your periphery; a colorful phantom standing out amongst the washed out wood and bluestem grass even more so than he did in the homely atmosphere of the tavern. He flitted around the property, first in the chicken coop, then in the pasture and, finally, nowhere.

You don’t realize how much time had elapsed since you last saw hide or hair of him until you took a quick reprieve to get your mother’s tablets ready with a glass of water. It suddenly struck you that you hadn’t seen him pass by the kitchen window at all in the time you’d been standing there, and when you peer out more closely, the only movement you could see was the animals lazily grazing in the pasture. His horse was still grazing with all the rest, so he hadn’t taken off. You try to think of the last time you saw him, but the brief flashes all blended together.

You left the tablets and water on the nightstand next to the bed where your mother rested and went out to milk the goats, mostly filling two pails and then going into the barn - only intending to pasteurize it and having no other motive besides perhaps making sure you didn’t accidentally kill your farmhand on his second day.

Thenerius was standing in the center of what appeared to be a wood scrap pile, staring down incredibly exasperated at his list. You caught a glimpse of a sketch you recognized immediately, having forgotten you’d asked Thenerius to build a rabbit hutch.

Unsure how to say nevermind when he was already working on it - and clearly frustrated with it - you instead walk in with the two pails and interrupt his concentration, “Come help me with this, Thenerius.”

He drops everything to take the pales from you, and you suspect it had less to do with his desire to help you than being able to take a break from building. You let him, grabbing the bottoms of the pails so they wouldn’t jostle as much during the transfer.

“The pasteurizer is over there,” you point, ignoring the giant pile and walking to the small metal contraption. Lifting the lid, you take out the funnel and seven metal bottles from the wire cage inside the main chamber, setting them down on the floor and sticking the funnel into the first bottle. You gestured for Thenerius to pour, moving through each bottle until both pails were emptied.

You place the filled bottles back into their wire slots and pointing at the pails, “Go wash those out and bring back water.”

“But the hutch-” Thenerius trailed off, looking at the unfinished scraps of wood.

“It’s fine, this needs to be done first,” you assure him, motioning for him to go.

Once he leaves, you go to the pile and grab small pieces of wood, sticking them in the chamber underneath the pasteurizer along with some hay. When Thenerius returns, you take the pails and begin filling the main chamber, stopping once the bottles were almost submerged and striking a match to light the hay.

You step back from the soon to be hot metal once you place the lid back on, keeping a close eye on the thermometer.

“You don’t have to make the hutch anymore. I’m just going to keep them in the stall,” you finally admit as you wait.

Despite still working as hard as he did the day before, it was evident that Thenerius was in pain, taking care not to move too much and antsy as he stood behind you.

“You can sit, you know. This is going to take a while.”

“I’m afraid if I sit I won’t be able to get back up,” Thenerius replies, his grim expression unchanging even when you burst into laughter.

“Suit yourself, then. You could always end the day early. Honestly, you’ve done more these past two days than I would be able to do in a month.”

Even your rare praise isn’t able to convince Thenerius, who resolutely denies your offer to rest. Deciding to get dinner started as the sun lowered in the sky, you instruct Thenerius when and how to close the bottom chamber and where the mitts were to take out the wire cage so he could bring the milk to you in the kitchen.

Later that evening, Thenerius all but collapsed into the chair next to you, favoring one leg where one of the goats rammed into his side when he was herding them back into the barn. Earlier, you had considered asking him to also draw the bath, but seeing how ravenously he ate his cold dinner, you were glad you had taken pity on him and done it yourself, your mother already out the bath.

“Go wash up,” you prod his leg with the side of your foot, careful not to hit it too hard.

Groaning, Thenerius painstakingly rose back to his feet and you could have sworn you heard him utter a few curses under his breath as he shed his boots and jacket at the door before trudging to the bathroom.

You enter a few minutes later unannounced, Thenerius immediately splashing down chin-deep into the water in an attempt to hide himself, stammering nonsense at your sudden appearance.

“Calm down, I just brought you some magnesium sulfate and scented oils,” you interrupt sternly, setting your supplies down and sitting on the edge of the tub directly behind Thenerius, who had turned away from you.

You pour a generous amount of the salt into the bath, enough that the water becomes opaque. However, before you add the oil, you hesitate, noticing Thenerius’ back is still streaked with dirt too stubborn to be rinsed away. You tell yourself to just pour in the oil anyways, or even just leaving it there to do himself

“Lean forward,” you find yourself saying instead, grabbing a clean washcloth and dunking it in the water, “You missed your back.”

“You don’t have to-”

“I don’t want to have to clean up dirt after you.” The words come out a bit harsher than you mean them to be, but you succeed in getting Thenerius to comply with your command, his chest submerged under the steaming water and exposing his back.

Scars of all kinds were scattered all over his skin, some paper-thin lines of lavender with the passage of time while others were a deep red wine - old burns and bullet holes. You lathered the bar soap into the washcloth, but your attention kept returning to the raised and puckered skin the width of your forefinger, ten overlapping stripes horizontal across the expanse of his back. The remnants of a particularly brutal lashing.

“You’ve never told me the story behind these,” you murmur, pressing the sudsy cloth against his shoulder blade at the very edge of the topmost scar, the ridge much more pronounced than the others; likely the first. You feel the phantom pain in your back, easily picturing the painful healing process. Thenerius had always bragged to you about his scars, but you never saw these particular ones - never even been shown his back, for that matter.

“I was young when I got them. Stupid,” Thenerius said, the bitterness in his voice melting into a soft sigh as you rubbed small circles around his shoulder blades.

Thenerius thankfully made no comment as you purposefully moved the cloth down his back, at first only to remove the dirt, but soon losing sight of your mission and working out the knots of his muscles, every so often splashing warm water up to rinse it. You loosened the tension in one area before moving on to the next, continuing long after all the dirt was washed away. He could not, however, hide the small sounds that escaped whenever you brushed against a particularly sensitive spot.

Your feel increasingly embarrassed with every hiss and grunt, but you continue on, guiltily enjoying every noise elicited by your hand, seeing just the back of his head leaving you only able to envision how he reacted - eyes screwed shut, lips falling open ever so slightly. Your imagination ran wild when your knuckles brushed against his side and he moaned.

It had been out of pain, the flesh bruised from goat horns, but your face burns and you swallow thickly nonetheless. You quickly finish, stopping right where his back meets the water and quickly turned to wring out the washcloth and drop it in the basin. Unable to meet Thenerius’ eyes just yet, you smell each bottle of oil, using your feigned deliberation as an excuse to keep your back to him.

Finally grabbing the first bottle after smelling each twice. It was citrusy, with the faintest hint of some herb, you think.

“Soak with this for a bit. It’ll help with the soreness,” you clear your throat, handing over the bottle. Thenerius had been falling asleep with your ministrations, but now snapped awake with the cold glass making contact with his palm.

“I shouldn’t- you still need to bathe and the water will be cold,” Thenerius begins to argue, rising from the water the slightest bit without realizing it, but you act quickly, pressing your hands down on his shoulders to keep him submerged.

“If you don’t, you won’t even be able to get up tomorrow,” the gentleness in your voice feels foreign, but it is sincere, “I know a lot about these things. Trust me, it can get a whole lot worse.”

Thenerius immediately relaxed under your touch, leaning his head back onto the rim of the tub and the points of his horns stopping on either side of your head, fortunately his eyes closed so he could not see you staring wide-eyed down at him. It took all your willpower to keep your palms rooted in their spot, your fingers itching to move lower. It would be a simple thing, to just… glide your hands down his chest, over his stomach - resting your chin on his shoulder - and wrapping a fist around his—

You are brought abruptly back into reality when Thenerius’ soft snores reach you, extracting your hands like a burn and quickly pouring the oil into the water. Once the bottle is empty, you quietly abscond.

It’s nearly half an hour before Thenerius finally exits, apologizing profusely. You had been pacing in the living room clutching your night clothes, avoiding every creaky floorboard with well-practiced coordination. As soon as he steps out of your way, you brush past the tiefling and shut the door.

The water is frigid, which you’re glad for, intent on freezing the molten heat that had grown in your core. You don’t know what’s come over you. Dangerous ideas consumed you the entire time you waited, impulses made all the more tempting with the knowledge that Thenerius wanted you; your mind twisted the memory of his confession into words of desire and his innocent noises into pleasured moans.

You scrubbed the dried sweat and grime off of you with just a little too much vigor, your attempt at grounding your beating heart. As soon as you’re finished, you pulled the plug and scrambled out the tub, quickly toweling off and getting dressed.

When you exit, Thenerius is seated on his cot, holding a steaming mug. You had been planning on going straight into the bedroom, but upon hearing the bathroom door open, your mother came from the kitchen, immediately seeing you and holding up a mug for you. Your stomach dropped. You had assumed she’d been asleep as she’d gone into the bedroom immediately after getting out the bath, and now wondered how long she’d actually been awake - if she had noticed the time you spent alone in the bathroom with Thenerius.

Out of habit, you take the mug, the smell of hot cocoa spiked with ale drifting lazily to your nose. You thought she would also drink with you. Instead, she walked straight past you towards the bedroom.

“You’re going to bed already?” Your voice is tight in panic at the thought of being left alone with Thenerius, the source of your temporary madness.

“I’m getting old,” she smiled, misinterpreting your question for concern for her health, her voice lowering to just above a whisper as she brought her lips close to your ear, “and I’m not one to stand in the way of young people’s affairs.”

Your gaze bores into the back of Thenerius’ head. Against your better judgement, you carry your mug to the cot, sitting on the very edge to keep your distance.

Blowing on your drink, you take small sips to avoid burning your tongue. Between the hot drink and the crackling fireplace in front of you, you almost forget your own awkwardness, the coziness only possible with the inhospitable winter outside lulling you into a sense of security.

“I was missing out on a lot with this drink,” Thenerius suddenly broke the silence, mirroring your own careful sips.

You temper your reaction, maintaining a smile you pray conveys a completely normal, neutral interest in the conversation, “You’ve never had hot cocoa before?”

“Never had a need. We usually stick to where it’s warm,” Thenerius said and your smile falters slightly at the implication, sobering slightly from your runaway thoughts.

“Why didn’t you leave with the others?”

The abrupt question hangs in the air between you, the pause stretching without Thenerius reacting to the point you wondered if you didn’t actually ask it.

Just as you are about to ask again, Thenerius spoke, slowly but not uncertainly, as though taking a moment to choose each word, an admission that took you entirely by surprise, “I was going to. After your rejection.”

“Why didn’t you?” You sound almost breathless, never before having considered the possibility that your extreme reaction to his proposal would have actually discouraged him. You have assumed that he had arrived with the goal of winning you over. You tried to think of some other possible motive, but you just drew blanks.

“I told you that your friend at the bar asked me to go to you,” he said, waiting until you nodded in acknowledgement before continuing, “At first, I thought she had seen- us. And I got… angry. I was embarrassed and it seemed like she was simply having fun. Then she told me she was worried about you, but that you refused her and everyone else’s offers help. I tried telling her I was the last person you wanted to see, much less accept help from, but she was persistent. Said you were just prickly around the edges, as it were.”

You grimace - a fair assessment, to be sure, but an unpleasant one to be so finely put a point on - but remain silent, digesting the new perspective. You feel dense, not having once considered Thenerius’ feelings about what had transpired between you. You also feel slightly disappointed that it was not his own passion that drove him to seek you out, though you know you have no right to feel hurt, now more than ever.

You down the rest of your cocoa, unsure if the heat or the ale is what burns down your throat, or your own disappointment. Already you could feel your face warm, the sweetness of the drink having hidden the strength of the alcohol.

“I’m sorry.” You’re unsure of what else to say, afraid to elaborate lest you drudge up every negative feeling over what happened.

He only nods, taking a sip from his drink and keeping his gaze fixed on the fire.

“I’ve always wanted to ask this,” blood was rushing through your ears as the ale settled heavily in your belly, making you just a bit bolder, “Why me? I mean—I know Paloma was leaving and she was the one to introduce us, but you seemed- I thought you were in love with her…”

You try to seem nonchalant as Thenerius chuckles, then deliberates, not sure your ego could take another blow tonight and also as if the question was a completely normal thing to ask platonically during a heart to heart with the man who proposed to you only four days ago. Tova have mercy. Had it really only been that long?

“I didn’t love her,” Thenerius finally put you out of your misery after a long stretch of silence, and you cursed the blooming hope in your chest, “She told me she was quitting. And why—she was in love. What was between us was not… it wasn’t the same. I didn’t know that at the time, I was just selfish, thought of her as mine even though I didn’t consider myself hers.”

You frown slightly, wanting desperately to pay attention to what Thenerius was sharing - obviously a very delicate and sensitive subject - but you can’t help the illogical wave of jealousy rising within you. He hadn’t known you then, only seeing for a few weeks out of the year after that. You shouldn’t have finished off your drink, too all over the place and unable to get a handle on your own emotions.

“I didn’t understand her then,” Thenerius continued, oblivious to your inner turmoil, “How she described the love she felt - to do things for someone else’s sake, rather than one’s own. And to forsake everything, be unwilling to trade anything for that love.”

It was evident Thenerius was no longer talking about Paloma, but of his own feelings for you. However, he had yet to answer your question and you’re unsure if you trust yourself to elaborate, opting instead to repeat it.

“So why me?”

“I’m not sure,” Thenerius admits sheepishly, “I began talking to you. It was the longest I ever talked to anyone that wasn’t on my crew—and about something that wasn’t about anything in particular. And I saw you interacting with others - the tavern owner, the other workers - when you thought no one was paying attention. You seemed so… carefree. Or just free. You didn’t have to worry about making it to the next port, or if you’d be paid. And when we moved on, I couldn’t think of anyone else, be with anyone else.”

You glance over at Thenerius, feeling incredibly warm, like the heat was rolling off your cheeks in waves. The alcohol had given you a buzz - not enough to be entirely gone, but enough to give you the excuse to throw caution to the wind as you observed Thenerius unabashedly.

His downturned eyes made his eyelashes brush against his cheeks, the strong slope of his nose casting an uneven shadow across his face where it veered slightly from an old break. But your eyes were most drawn to his lips - plump, slightly chapped after the hot shower and the corners tugged down into a frown that you wanted desperately to alleviate.

“What about now?” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, and Thenerius seems just as surprised by your question as you do. He doesn’t, however, seem to grasp your implication, if his self-deprecating snort was anything to go by, his next words making your momentarily-fragile heart break for him.

“I completely misunderstood your intentions. I told myself I saw no difference in how you interacted with me and your true friends. And I’m all the more the fool, because I know these things but it has done nothing to curb my useless pining.”

Your countless worries and responsibilities seemed to melt away in that moment, your rational mind telling you a thousand and one reasons not to do what you were about to do holding no power over you. You live in a place where it gets cold, you cannot go with him. But all you could see was Thenerius in front of you, present - a concept you could never before focus on. It was always thinking of the future; what needed to be done, paid for, taken or given.

In the present, you reach out your hand to Thenerius’ cheek furthest from you, turning his gaze from the fire to you. You lean forward, slotting your lips against his softly, but without hesitation.

part 5

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #reader insert #tiefling

[evillordzog]

Daughter of the Lilies by @bluedragongal is a webcomic about your average mysterious masked mage and the trio of unruly, uncultured, rough-around-the-edge mercenaries she teams up with out of a desperate need to make a quick buck so she can move on to a new quiet place to live.

It’s also largely about the importance self-worth, the different forms love can take, how it can redeem and empower us, as well as issues relating to anxiety. (There are also unicorns, manticores, ghouls, goblins, cannibalistic elves, dragons, gods, fairies, ghosts, werewolves, demons, angels, and so on.)

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13432489/

A fairly decent likeness of the main character. Spoilers below the cut (though I’ll put them towards the bottom.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13368118/

Orrig is love. Is also too old for this shit and totally thriving in it; the image of this total unit being the team dad in sole possession of their one functioning brain-cell and diligently wading through all the Guild paperwork is what hooked me to the series.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13365477/

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13367852/

Orcs in this setting have the ability to kinda hulk-out for a fight, with their eyes going totally black and their already fearsome teeth growing larger.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13367552/

Brent is the baby of the group, in terms of age, experience, and personality. But that last one is more that he’s been poorly socialised. Physically tough, emotionally sensitive, trying to become a better person.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13367703/

Being part orc, he gets to do the hulk-out thing too.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13396896/

Of the core cast, I’m least happy with Lyra because her design is the sort of elegant streamline that HF isn’t currently set up to handle (bracers and vambraces in particular Are. The. Worst). Still, I think I managed to capture the general vibe of her.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13398196/

Despite being a capable martial artist, she’s the group’s ranged support, which is the most elf-like thing about her. Absolutely wonderfully agro and passionate when it comes to defending her friends as well as picking on them.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13454668/

T’Fa’Nii the Clanless isn’t a character from the story per se but rather a popular Conan/Red Sonja expy from a series of lurid and wildly popular -- there’s 38 of them at last count -- novels within the setting that play upon all the standard sexual and racial tropes of that particular genre for the main characters to question. There’s a couple of different looks around when the joke is first introduced, but this captures the sense of it all best. You can’t see it here, but follow the link and you’ll see she’s wearing combat high heels.

Yes, writing that made me cry.

So tempted to splash out for access to decals so I can make that bikini the chainmail it’s meant to be.

Anyways, this brings us to the big spoilers.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13433259/

As of Christmas 2020, she seems to be positioned as the obvious big bad of the story, being the foremost authority on the newly fashionable -- and objectively morally repugnant -- activity of summoning demons and ramming them into living hosts as servants that’s taking hold amongst magic users of the world. Last seen ordering one of her familiars to rip out the tongue of a pompous jackass who was mansplaining the whole phenomena to her without realising who she was, then ordering more of them out to inevitably make trouble for Thistle.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13431452/

Master Wu, one of the world’s 7 supreme magic powers referred to as Wizards, though only 6 of them are currently known (I wonder why that is...). Defender of the great and good, can shapechange into an Eastern Dragon. Was the headmaster of a major magical school before quitting in disgust over its board’s insistence on teaching the whole demon binding curriculum which had just gone had just gone horribly wrong leading to a pitched battle between the botched summoning and Orrig’s crew with Thistle in tow.

His costume is pretty wide of the comic art -- there’s a bunch of eastern asian inspired pieces in the HF wardrobe, but they’re all the wrong ones.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13400246/

Not explicitly called an angel, but yeah, an angel. divine servant of a holy Triune. One of them is associated with Thistle. By inference, each of the Wizards has one of these suckers inside them and since in flashback we see Thistle being in rather close proximity to someone shuffling off the mortal coil and expelling one of them... I think we have a pretty good idea of where it ended up and what that means for her.

The original art is old school scary angel stuff, with more wings and many moew eyes along the horns (though I think the technohorn design does manage to nicely evoke them).

Initially though, the biggest mystery was what was under Thistle’s hood. There were some very interesting guesses

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13399439/

Turns out our poor heroine is a cave elf. They are not... popular.

In no small part down to some percentage of them displaying a feral predatory nature involving the consumption of other sapient humanoids. Clearly they’re capable of being something other than that without direct intervention from the divine judging by Thistle’s flashbacks but we don’t know how aberrant she is compared to others of her kind (and she did arguably induce a fear response in her confrontation with one). She’s been run out of a lot of towns when her identity has been revealed, and it is perfectly acceptable for mercs to be hired to exterminate any that set up shop too close to civilisation and start chowing down, but there’s nothing hard and fast about whether it’s a death sentence just to be one -- a situation Von Caedhin will inevitably bring to a head I’m sure.

https://www.heroforge.com/load_config%3D13492545/

This is the last we’ve seen of her prior to the 2020 Christmas break: she’s suffering a hallucination of herself in a state of revelation to her team mates, strolling along with them in a dressing gown as her eyes glow in sympathetic reaction to a whole mass of magic looming into proximity...

#hero forge #daughter of the lilies #fan art #web comics #fantasy

[simsadventures]

Duties: Chapter 2: New Day

Summary: Thor has to go and find an Omega for himself, according to his father. None of the available princesses from the neighbouring kingdoms, however, smell good enough for him. But what if Thor catches a heavenly scent, just outside the castle?

Warnings: a/b/o dynamics, scenting, fluff

Word Count: 2801

A/N: Alpha Thor is back. And the reader appears for the first time. What do we all think about this? Let me know, feedback is gold :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

The morning was filled with people running around the castle, trying to get everything ready for Thor’s travels. Thor didn’t really want to take too many things or counsellors with him because he knew that it was all about the smell, and nobody else but him could decide that. He did have to take someone with him, and despite his father’s light protest, he decided to take his friends: Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun.

Odin wished for Thor to take Loki with him because there would be at least one son with some manners. The Allfather hoped to keep the good relations between the kingdom, and knowing Thor and his manners, there were some reserves when it came to letting him go alone. But Thor’s mother vouched for him, and who was Odin to say no to his wife?

Thor insisted on riding horseback, even if it was proper for the heir to the throne to come in a carriage. But Thor only rolled his eyes at the golden carriage and let the thralls put it from his sight. He was the future king of Asgard, not some lady in need. He was a man, an Alpha, and he wouldn’t be caught dead in such monstrosity. His friends agreed with him heartily, and so there was nothing left to do for the thralls than to listen to the prince and get the carriage out of his sight.

When Thor mounted the horse, his father came briskly to his side and caught the reins of his horse.

“I know you believe ’tis but a stupid tradition, but, son, a future king needs his queen, and I hope you will find it in your heart to choose the right one not only for yourself but also for this kingdom.”

Thor frowned slightly. “Do you want me to choose only by my head, father? Do you not wish that I fall in love and am happy with my chosen wife?”

Odin chuckled and let the reins fall out of his hands.

“One day you’ll understand, dear son, that not everything is about you. I hope you make a great alliance by choosing one of the princesses,” he said with a serious look on his face and stepped back to let the horses trod out of the gates.

Thor only bowed to him, his father’s words still playing in his brain. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that it would be for the best if he could choose one of the Omegas from neighbouring kingdoms, but he also wasn’t one to choose just like that. He had his share of pretty faces, but if he was supposed to mate for life, the girl would have to be something else. She would have to be almost a goddess for Thor to make such commitment.

With such thought in mind, Thor bid his horse forward, his friends and a couple of helpers following close behind.

Odin and Frigg were watching it from the main gate, both with different expressions. While Thor’s mother was shedding tears of happiness, that her first-born was finally becoming what he was always supposed to, and she was joyous about all the possibilities love had for Thor, his father’s expression was quite different. More brooding, and less cheerful, fearing the stupidities his son might do in the neighbouring kingdoms.

The first kingdom to visit was Bennegard. Its land was vastly different from that in Asgard, because while most of Asgard were hills and sea, Bennegard had no access to the salty water, and had not one hill. Thor and Loki used to make fun of the country in their classes, where they had to learn about all the kingdoms, past and new one. They would always say that Bennegard was the dullest of places, its people looking like mouses, their land without the joys nature can provide. Bennegard was almost entirely of rocks and rocky planes, one of the few things that actually grew there was a thistle, which to Thor and Loki said a lot.

It took Thor and his company two whole days to travel to the land, and by the time they neared the castle, they wanted to turn and come back to Asgard, which played with colours and odours. Bennegard was just as dull as Thor imagined it, but there was still hope in his heart, that he might find what his father wanted him there, and his hunt would be over.

But when they finally arrived at the local court, Thor realised that he would rather marry one of the thistles than to have anything to do with any of the Omega princesses there.

Thor suffered through every conversation, but he knew better than to let people around him know about his state of mind. He was all smiles and politeness, but inside, he was bored to death.

The oldest daughter of king Jostly was almost as big as Thor, and at first, Thor nearly jumped out of his skin in fear of her. He’s never seen a woman as huge as her, and he’s seen a lot of women in his life, he thought.

“My prince, may I introduce you to my daughter and my heir, princess Johanna? She has just turned 27 years of age, and she is more than ready to take an Alpha, and unite our kingdom,” king Jostly said, in what he probably thought was a cheerful tone, but Thor had to fight himself in staying awake whilst he spoke.

Thor smiled politely at the princess and remembering his father’s words, asked her to dance with him. She snorted, and Thor assumed that was her laugh and it made him roll his eyes even harder. Thor scented Johanna discreetly, trying to see if there was at least something he could be attracted to in her. But no. She just smelled like burned lava stones and tobacco, and that was not something Thor looked for in his mate.

They danced and talked, but Thor could not keep his mind in the conversation. It was when she started listing the types of rocks that could be found around the castle, and she was already at the 18th different type, that Thor excused himself with a smile, and went to find the closest barrel with mead.

The rest of the night went very similarly, and by midnight, Thor was comfortably in one of the guest rooms, snoring happily. He told his company all about the dullness of the place, and how he couldn’t wait to be up and gone and truly praise.

In the morning, he gave his apologies to king Jostly, trying to explain to him that he did not find what he was looking for, only for king Jostly to stop him mid-sentence.

“Do not apologise, my prince! Last night, while you apologised to go to your chambers, my daughter caught the scent of a foreign Alpha from your company, and while I hoped for, let’s say, better connection, considering her age and all, I think I must be happy with what we’ve got.”

Thor raised an eyebrow and wanted to ask more questions, but then the door to the ballroom opened and revealed princess Johanna, and to Thor’s utter surprise, Volstagg, who was smiling like a fool.

“Thor, my friend! Look! I found a suitable Omega for myself! What do you reckon?”

Thor couldn’t even form a suitable response, from all the shock coursing through his veins. He just nodded and tried to form a smile on his face, but he wasn’t sure if it actually made way to his face.

“I am happy for you, my friend! Do you wish to stay here, with your chosen Omega, Vorstagg?”

“If I may, that would be more than wonderful, my prince,” Vorstagg said, not even looking at Thor, but having his nose buried in his Omega’s neck.

Thor shuddered at the sight, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to stand that close to that woman. But he was truly happy for Vorstagg. He was also one of the highest-ranked councilmen in Asgard, so Thor knew this only strengthened the relations between the two lands, and he hoped it would be suitable for his father.

They bid their goodbyes, and Thor and the remaining of his company set to travel to the second kingdom on their plan. Dysgard. Thor was actually looking forward to this visit. He’s always admired Dysgard’s jewels, which was the thing exported most from this land. The hills were even mightier than in Asgard, and the plains were slightly more hostile than those in Thor’s own country.

He always heard the people of Dysgard be just like their land, little proud and unwelcoming, keeping to themselves. Thor wanted to see if it was real or if his father exaggerated like he always did.

Upon their arrival, unlike in Bennegard, no great party awaited them. They were shown into a small crown room, with guards and the king himself. King Zeinard was a stout man with a pointy nose, which looked awfully funny on his round face.

“Crown prince Thor, I hear you want to have a look at the Omegas of this court, and intend to marry some?” King’s voice boomed through the room.

“Yes, your Majesty. I’m looking for a wife, and me and my father, King Odin, thought it would be good to start with our strongest allies. Would that be ok with you, my king?” Thor said, trying not to sound too bitter, and judging by king Zeinard’s face, Thor succeeded, for the king nodded at somebody behind Thor, and that person opened a door behind Thor.

From this door, 5 young Omegas emerged, their heads hung low, looking at the ground.

“Here are two of my daughters, and three daughters of my highest councilmen. Please, take your time in scenting them, and if you like one, you can have her. If not, I would be glad if you could continue on your journey,” Zeinard said in all seriousness, and Thor was in fact glad.

If he didn’t find what he was looking for here, he could get moving without the annoying pleasantries.

So he just curtly nodded at the king and walked towards the women.

He smelled each of them carefully, taking his time to see if he could like any of the scents, but he found himself more than indifferent to all of them.

Thor looked over to the king and smiled sadly.

“I am afraid, my king, that I did not find what I came for here.”

“That is quite alright, my prince. I wish you luck on your journey,” the king said and turned his back on Thor, and slowly rolled out of the hall.

Thor just looked at his friends and rolled his eyes, which made laugh silently, before they all decided to follow the king’s advice and continue on their journey.

The last kingdom they were meant to visit was only a few hours away, and Thor thought it would be great if the could reach it before the night set on the land. He sent a pigeon to Midgard, letting their king know that they were coming a day early, hoping the king would not think they were disrespectful. The last thing Thor needed was for one of the kings sending a message to his father that he didn’t behave properly.

The journey was filled with friendly banter, mostly targeted on the missing Vorstagg and his new bride, but all was in good humour. They were all happy for their friend if only little surprise on his choice.

Before they knew it, they were standing in front of Midgard’s castle’s gates. Thor was internally most excited about Midgard. He has been there many times before, so he knew that the country was pregnant with beauty, both in its population and its nature. He even knew the king, Anthony, with whom Thor fought many of his battles in his youth. Thor knew king Anthony had only one daughter, but rarely ever showed her. All Thor knew was that she was a lot younger than him.

“Thor! Dead friend! I and the queen, we are ecstatic that you could come so soon! Gives us time to talk properly!” Thor heard from somewhere above him, and he looked up, seeing Anthony standing on a balcony right above his head, waving at him.

“Tony! So am I, trust me! May I come up, so that I can refresh slightly before I meet you? I stink like a horse,” Thor hollered, and Tony just smiled and nodded at him.

When all was done, Thor could hear music coming from the big hall, and he smiled, excited to actually enjoy himself, if he didn’t choose one of Tony’s daughters as his Omega, that was.

The hall was littered with people, the whole room shining with light up candles, and expensive decorations were hung around the ceiling to create the allusion of an open roof. Thor always admired Tony’s festivities, and he wasn’t the only one. It was known in all lands that king Anthony’s parties were to look forward to.

“Feeling like yourself again, old friend?” Tony asked with a smile, and Thor instinctively hugged him, just like he did with Loki.

“Yes! Especially because I’m here, in Midgard. You wouldn’t believe how I longed to be here the whole journey, both Bennegard and Dysgard were awfully boring!”

Tony barked out a laugh and patted Thor’s shoulder.

“Oh, I know! Imagine what you will have to undergo in every ally meeting we have!” Tony laughed again, seeing Thor’s slightly horrified face.

“Let’s get the issue off the table quickly, so we can have more fun! Here is my daughter, Morgan. Morgan, my dearest, this is prince Thor,” Tony said and Morgan, who now stood in front of Thor, curtsied slightly. Thor bowed politely and took her hand in his kissing it.

Thor could see she was still just a child, only just presenting and still unsure of what her presentation meant in the world.

She smelled nice, Thor had to admit that, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t do without.

Tony was watching the whole encounter, keeping an eye on Thor’s reaction and praying to, however, was listening that he wouldn’t find his daughter too appealing. Not that Tony didn’t like Thor, but Morgan was still his only child, and he was not ready to let her go just yet. He had to smile because Thor’s pupils didn’t dilate, nor did he look like a lighting stroke him when he smelled her, so Tony took it as a good sign.

“I’m afraid, you are not my mate, princess Morgan, although your beauty is remarkable,” Thor smiled at the young princess who curtsied again and almost ran away from there, back to her mother’s open arms.

“She’s still a pup, you know? I have to tell you, I’m glad you’re not mates. I would hate to fight you were you to hurt my daughter, which is a fate awaiting her mate patiently.”

Thor laughed at his friend, and let the whole mate thing stride out of his mind. He didn’t find anyone, and he knew he had reasoning for his father. So he just let go, and had fun, drank mead, and ate what was served.

It was when he wanted to get another bread that he caught a scent of something sweet. He smelled the bread, and he could tell that the scent was lingering on it. He supposed that the lovely smelling Omega touched the bread before him, and that was why he could still smell it, as faint as it was.

Thor got up from the table and roamed the room, trying to catch the scent that was making him drunk again but without luck. He hung his head between his shoulders, and for the first time was feeling some sort of emotion about not finding his mate.

He went to the table with bread again, still thinking deeply about how that smell made him feel when he smelled it again.

The scent was a combination of a spring breeze, a meadow, and what he thought were raspberries, so sweet and intoxicating, Thor wanted to do nothing more than to smell that for the rest of his life.

He swiftly raised his head, only to be met with the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. He couldn’t even pinpoint their colour, they were playful and looked just like she smelt. Beautiful.

This was it, Thor thought. This was his mate, whoever this beautiful stranger was. But before he could say a word to her, she scurried away, down the hall only used by the help in the castle. And Thor was dead-set on following her.

/Next Chapter >

Duties:

@kenzieam​ @the-soulofdevil​ @thelonglostavenger @beatrice-of-messina​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @rohaintahquil​ @youngdreamer3214​ @the-walking-daryl​ @jaxyboy246​ @ba-arish​ @champagnesugamama​ @bullshitantichrist​ @thedaniroguefan​

Thor Taglist

@owlyannah​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @mushyjellybeans​ @livsheph​ @sebbbystaaan​ @notyourtypicalrose​

If your name is crossed out, tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason, I’m sorry.

If you’d like to be tagged comment/message/send an ask. If you like the story, please reblog :) any comments are appreciated, even the critical ones. Always a space to get better, so let me know what you guys think.

#thor odison x reader #thor #thor odinson #thor odinson fanfiction #thor x reader #thor x you #thor x y/n #reader insert #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #avengers #avengers fanfiction #thor odinson imagine #avengers imagine #series #thor series #a/b/o #avengers a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #alpha thor #alpha thor omega reader #alpha thor odinson #omega!reader #omegaverse #duties #medieval au

[richincolor]

LGBTQ PoC Comics

Queer YA books, especially YA starring queer PoC characters, are my jam -- and comics are no exception. With graphic novels like Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me out in the world, it truly feels like we're in a golden era of queer comics, so if you're looking to get into comics, now's the time! Here's a few comics starring LGBTQ PoC characters to kickstart your journey:

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me by Mariko Tamaki, Rosemary Valero-O'Connell

Laura Dean, the most popular girl in high school, was Frederica Riley's dream girl: charming, confident, and SO cute. There's just one problem: Laura Dean is maybe not the greatest girlfriend. Reeling from her latest break up, Freddy's best friend, Doodle, introduces her to the Seek-Her, a mysterious medium, who leaves Freddy some cryptic parting words: break up with her. But Laura Dean keeps coming back, and as their relationship spirals further out of her control, Freddy has to wonder if it's really Laura Dean that's the problem. Maybe it's Freddy, who is rapidly losing her friends, including Doodle, who needs her now more than ever. Fortunately for Freddy, there are new friends, and the insight of advice columnists like Anna Vice to help her through being a teenager in love.

Mooncakes by Suzanne Walker, Wendy Xu

A story of love and demons, family and witchcraft. Nova Huang knows more about magic than your average teen witch. She works at her grandmothers' bookshop, where she helps them loan out spell books and investigate any supernatural occurrences in their New England town. One fateful night, she follows reports of a white wolf into the woods, and she comes across the unexpected: her childhood crush, Tam Lang, battling a horse demon in the woods. As a werewolf, Tam has been wandering from place to place for years, unable to call any town home. Pursued by dark forces eager to claim the magic of wolves and out of options, Tam turns to Nova for help. Their latent feelings are rekindled against the backdrop of witchcraft, untested magic, occult rituals, and family ties both new and old in this enchanting tale of self-discovery.

Lumberjanes by Grace Ellis, Noelle Stevenson, and Brooke Allen

FRIENDSHIP TO THE MAX! At Miss Qiunzilla Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet's camp for hard-core lady-types, things are not what they seem. Three-eyed foxes. Secret caves. Anagrams. Luckily, Jo, April, Mal, Molly, and Ripley are five rad, butt-kicking best pals determined to have an awesome summer together... And they're not gonna let a magical quest or an array of supernatural critters get in their way! The mystery keeps getting bigger, and it all begins here.

#queer comics #lgbtqia #lumberjanes #laura dean keeps breaking up with me #mooncakes

[bowieandqueen11]

Until It’s Too Late / Losers Club Imagine

Request: could you write something about stanley’s daughter showing up to kill it and how the club would react n stuff? if not that’s fine!!! 

Are you trying to make me CrY???

Please comment and reblog, if my page is still so inactive I may stop writing

The grass by the quarry was soft on the soles of your feet, surprisingly warm, a gentle tickle against your ankles as you waded through the forest green. Each strand moved in the summer breeze as easily as through your hair, the waves  rustling as if alive, matching your steady breaths. The grass is taller than you’ve seen in your memories; meadow-like but still green. All you wanted was to see  the blue cornflowers, scarlet poppies, white asters and even the thistles that your dad had used to describe to you, from hot summers long gone and alive now only in your memory. 

You swallowed thickly, trying not to think about the last time your dad had told you stories about the quarry, about the clown, about his friends. The painful gleam in his eye, the scratching of his palm as he gazed at your bedroom wall without even seeing, without even really being present all suddenly made sense to you. Before you reached the broken wood of the Clubhouse’s hatch, hoping the information the lady out the Town House had given you was correct and the Losers were really seen heading out here, you had to stop. Choking in some air, you placed your hand on the bark of a nearby tree, leaning on it for a second. You never realised, when he told you about the time the Losers had stood by the quarry holding hands, knowing they were saying goodbye to each other, but promising that nothing would be stronger than the bond of love that flowed between them, that he was trying to say goodbye to you too.

Leaning down the open hatch, you hear some slight murmurs, deciding if Richie Trashmouth Tozier was actually down there, humour was the best way to introduce yourself.

‘Hey Losers, it’s time to float!’, you shout down the hatch, pressing your lips together as you await a response. Your eyes try to adjust to the darkness, but you still can’t see anything other than shifting blobs. That is, until you feel the reverberations of hand gripping onto the ladder.

‘Hey Richie, is that you again?’

‘Eddie, you’ve literally had your eyes on me for the last five minutes, you know it wasn’t.’

‘I w-wish it w-was.’

You fall back, stumbling onto your feet as you see the head of Ben Hanscom pop out of the hatch. It takes him a second, as he looks around the trees with furrowed eyebrows, but after a second his eyes locked on yours. You saw the shock register on his face before he could hide it, climbing out onto the grass with a familiar smile playing on his lips. 

‘It’s alright guys, you can come out. I guess Uris managed to join us after all.’  You could tell that he wanted to come over and hug you, but was waiting for someone else to make the first move. His voice was much sweeter than even Stanley had told you; it was the richness of his tones, luxurious and warm and ever as kind as he had remembered. 

The others start out, spilling out like marbles rolling across the floor as they join him up top, Richie boinking his head lightly against the frame and managing to knock his glasses onto the floor. Perhaps that’s why he was the last one to see you, the last face of grief in the group. For perhaps a split second, his shock was suspended, the surprise protecting him until it shattered like glass. I guess you could call it shock, but to you they're they're the same thing for the first fraction of a second: an inability to compute. His hand lands on Eddie’s jacket without even realising, fingernails digging into muscle until Kaspbrak shoves him off with a wince and an ‘ow!’

Fragments of thought, splinters of words, and droplets of silence spun into a kaleidoscopic jumble over the Losers Club, shifted infinitesimally, and fell into an incredible new pattern as some began to collect their thoughts, shaking the image of their dead friend off the top of your face.

‘Whoa, Uris, when did you become a teenage girl?’

‘I’m sorry, w-who are you?’

‘You can’t be-can you? I mean...no...that’s not possible,’ Beverly adds, moving over to slightly hide behind Ben’s wide shoulder. Her eyes shifted to the side again and became glazed with a glassy layer of tears. As she blinked, they dripped from her eyelids and slid down her cheeks. She bit her lip tightly in attempt to hide any sound that wanted to escape from her mouth; your heart sinking, not fully comprehending before how much your presence would affect you, only focusing on how meeting them would complete you.

Her lower lip quivered as words slowly made their way out of her mouth again. 'You’re... Stanley’s daughter...’, she began, yet what followed was engulfed in the tremors as Ben turns to wrap her into his thumping chest.

‘Stanley’s dead, this must be that frickin clown playing with us.’ Eddie gasps, reaching into the back pocket of his trousers to pull out and shake his inhaler, his cheeks puffing out as he takes a hit. Richie glances over at him behind his glasses with unbelieving eyes, shoving his hands into his pocket.

‘Come on man, if he was going to hurt us, he’d send us a version of the actual Stanley instead.’

‘My name’s Y/n. Y/n Uris. Yes, my dad is gone, but I’ve come in his place, because if this is going to work, I think I need to be here.’

Your eyes were burning and your chest felt heavy as if it were filled with lead.

‘Sorry, it’s so weird seeing you all in person. Dad used to tell me so many stories about the Losers Club, after the Lucky Seven, before, you know, the bath...’

Bill’s face comes into view from beside Mike’s, craggy features suspended between grief and joy. Seconds pass, your brain taking him in, the leader, the one who started all this, struggling to comprehend that he isn't one of the pictures Stanley kept beside his bed. How the ground between the two of you was erased, you’ll never be able to recall, but one moment you are apart and the next his arms have wrapped around your shoulders with the strength of a man holding onto the sail of his boat in the midst of a tumultuous storm. The warmth of his body meets your cold skin, giving you hope like your father always did before he left you. One of his hands clasps around your lower back, the other stroking your hair, and it takes the two of you a moment to realise another set of arms has joined you, then another, then another, until all the Losers are huddled underneath the Derry sky, arm in arm again. With each soft touch more tears fall, tears none of them wipe away. 

After so many years, as Bill scrunches Stanley’s shower cap underneath his crushed fingers, it finally feels as if the Losers are complete again.

None of them really knew what they’d had, or what they’d lost, until it was too late.

#it 2019 #it chapter 2 #it 2019 imagine #stanley uris #stan uris #stan uris imagine #stanley uris imagine #richie tozier #richie tozier imagine #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak imagine #bill denbrough #bill denbrough imagine #ben hanscom #ben hanscom imagine #beverly marsh #bev marsh imagine #losers club #losers club imagine #mike hanlon #mike hanlon imagine #it 2017 #it movie #it edit #it 2019 angst #stanley uris angst

[smearsyd]

Day Again | Sehun | Part Three

Kim Haru knows loss. She knows what it means to miss someone, to find out what isolation looks like in the flesh. These things, she expects them and she patiently waits for the day she may wake up and greet them as griefs of the past.

What she does not expect, is the same grief reflected back in another’s face. She doesn’t expect to find solace through this person either, nor does she expect to cherish her days with him, rather than wait them away.

characters:

+ oh sehun (exo), you as kim haru (because names are important)

what to expect:

+ christmas + friends to lovers + fluff and romance

warnings:

+ mentions of death, grief + sensitive topics

length:

+ five parts + 30k plus total

read it here: (updating… stay tuned)

+ masterlist + part one + part two + part three 

author’s note:

+ this was late merely because I was too lazy to update it oop 

@i-peachesandstrawberries​ @itsmesa​

if you want to be tagged, please reply to the masterlist!

Golden Hour 

I held the slightly crinkled note in the palm of my hand, feet antsy in anticipation of those stormy eyes. My stomach fluttered at the memory and I tried to swallow it down, to pretend I was feeling nonsense, but the wings of his touch and those grey, grey eyes of his were too encompassing to let it pass.

My fingers traced the spot where his feather like kisses were branded into the crown of my head and my heart thumped against the cage of my chest in half-faltered beats as if it were still attempting to match tempo with his. Is it normal for your body to remember someone, to long for someone, when even your mind is still lagging in the words to comprehend your emotions?

His writing was soft and rounded, not at all like I would expect.

I’m sorry I have to leave…

Don’t go, I wanted to say at the parchment.

You are sleeping so peacefully. I don’t want to wake you, but I have to pick Jisung up from his friend’s house…

Wake me, I don’t care.

I’m glad we ran into each other once more…

So am I.

If you’re not busy, come next Sunday at 7. Jisung is having a party. He’d love to see you— so would I…

I wouldn’t miss it.

Call me sometime, okay. So, I can hear your voice.

Always.

A week had passed and yet, I hadn’t stopped reading his note as if I were reading it for the first time, discovering something new within myself as I overlooked it. Oppa would laugh at me if he knew the way I was feeling about his best friend. Or perhaps, maybe he always suspected, and I was the one who laughed it off.

The thought slipped away from me as I neared Sehun’s building, my ears perking at a familiar, short chuckle. His broad shoulders and tall frame took over the center of my eyes and I found myself walking faster, drawn like a hummingbird to its favorite nectar. He was unloading his truck, a fresh Christmas tree in tow; it was bigger than any I had ever seen, and the green thistles were cascading all around him like imitation snow.

I found myself calling out to him as he sat the tree down and closed the back of the pick-up. His head quickly turned in my direction, a bright smile lighting up the frosted bits of his nose and cheeks. We spotted one another and then he was taking the few large strides to my side and enveloping me tightly in his arms. I breathed him in, his usual scent of fresh pine and a vibrating greenness from the trees he handled coursing through my senses.

“Haru-ya,” he whispered into me. “You should have told me you were leaving, I would have come and gotten you, so you didn’t have to take the bus.”

I pulled back, taking in the pooling, content lightness of his stormy eyes in delight. “The walk was nice actually, and you were working anyways.” He was still wearing the thick, cargo jacket and sporting a black task belt filled with different equipment I knew nothing about. The title Environmental Field Specialist, Oh Sehun, was shining brightly on his chest.

“The walk was nicer than riding in a warm car with a handsome man?”

“A handsome man?” I pretended to look around, my eyebrows scrunching as I searched for such a culprit. “I’d have to find one first to know.”

Sehun tsked and I broke out into a light laugh, moving my hands to brush the snow and stiff thistle from his broad shoulders. “It was nice,” I stressed, “because I’m still getting use to the new neighborhood and I’ve found that there is lot to explore.”

Sehun let out a half-defeated-half-reprimanding sigh. “Still, call me next time,” he insisted, his fingers going to tuck a lock of my hair away. His touch was warm, and dare I say it, nicer than anything else.

I waved him off with a playful jest to my eyes anyway, taking a step away, but then he pulled me gently back, his stormy eyes suddenly serious. “Promise me, Haru. We can explore the neighborhood together if you want, just don’t go alone anymore.” He muttered gently, as if the thought of me walking alone in the cold pained him.

The air caught in my throat and I was struck silent by the pervasiveness of his demand, but regardless, a calming warmth spread through my body and I found myself nodding yes. His hand fully laced with mine, a thumb going delicately over the bend of my knuckles.

“C’mon,” he smiled, “Jisung and his friends are all inside.”

He pulled me up the stairs and into the small apartment he had always stayed in, the familiarity hitting me like a wall of cool, crystal water. The numbers 203 were gleaming in my mind as a photograph revisited countless times when he opened the door and led us inside. The first thing I remembered was the light.

Sehun always kept things so open and bright. Now, as the sun was setting, the apartment was basked in golden, beautiful light that illuminated the space and highlighted the blonde crown of Sehun’s locks in a halo of warmth. He looked lively then more than ever, a kind smile blooming on the quiet of his face and his fingers drumming lightly against mine as he watched me watching him.

The second thing I noticed was the homey kind of chaos that ensued around the space. Sehun’s small dog, Vivi, came running to my feet with a trail of whimpers following him, and in the living room, playful yells could be heard from the booming entertainment center.

“Hello,” I cooed, reaching down to pet an awfully vibrant Vivi, who was usually stuck up and only responded to Sehun. “Did you miss me? I missed you!” I patted his head and Sehun simply chuckled, looking fondly at the two of us before turning to call across the house for Jisung. Shortly after, Jisung came trotting out with six other boys in tow.

“Noona! You came!” He exclaimed, running over and embracing me in a quick hug. “I’ve missed you being over all the time.” I squeezed him tightly back, his young face twisting my heart. He looks exactly like Sehun did at that age— except somehow so much taller.

“I missed being here too.” I smiled, patting down his messy hair. “Are these friends from school?”

“We all play basketball together.” One of them said, sporting a boyish smile and kind eyes. “I’m Mark, the captain. It’s nice to meet you Noona.” He shook my hand and I couldn’t help but to return the smile.

The rest introduced themselves one by one. Renjun, the small one, and Jaemin, the oddly charismatic one, bickered about how Jisung is always forgetting his water bottle at home— to which Sehun glowered at. Chenle and Haechan, the loudest ones, were in a heated debate about something regarding the game they were playing. And lastly, Jeno, a mildly shy boy, shocked me by asking for a hug— something he apparently likes to do when greeting all new people. Sehun shook his shoulders at me as if to say it shocked him as well, but of course I gave him a hug.

Then they were back off to their game and it was just Sehun and I again. He nudged me before trailing off into the hallway that led to his room, throwing me an all grey look over his shoulder to make sure I was following. My feet shuffled after him, but all I could think about was my brother’s nasally kid voice always telling me I wasn’t allowed down there with them, that girls were a bore, especially little sisters, he would say.

Then Sehun would let me in anyway. I let the memory sit on my shoulders, its weight getting easier to hold.

Sehun’s room was just as I remembered it— well lived in and a little messy, but organized in his own fashion. The bedspread was still the same warm chocolate color and his walls were still the same shade of his light eyes, the ones he is flashing me now.

“The only thing that’s changed in here is you,” I remarked, touching the edge of his over-spilling bookshelf.

Sehun tilted his head in question, sitting back on his bed as he watched me lazily look through his room. “I’ve changed, really?” His hand was propped under his chin and his blonde hair was falling into his eyes. My fingers began to tingle in desire to run through the slightly knotted locks, to pull the strands through my digits and feel—

I blanked when an amused bend to his lips graced his angled face as he caught me staring. I turned away, pretending to look at the books so he couldn’t see the flush of color rushing to my face. “Yeah…” I almost coughed, “you look old now.”

Sehun snorted, throwing his head back. “Is that so?” He asked, a layer of husky playfulness coating his voice. “What exactly about me looks so old, huh?”

His laugh was contagious, and I found myself turning towards him. I neared his spot on the bed and he reached out to me, pulling me closer so I was standing over him and in between his legs. I pretended to inspect his face, drawing my eyes lightly over all of his features and following their movements with the pads of my small fingers. He let me, leaning gently into my touch as his hands rested on my hips.

“Your nose is longer,” I started with a short chuckle, tapping the bridge lightly. He raised a brow at me, but his eyes were sparkling. “And your face got quite bigger.”

“Seems like fair signs of aging,” he played along as I traced the outline of his face, coming to wrap his arms around my waist. We melted into one another, seemingly forgetting the painful circumstances that haunted us as our past became a point of comfort, of familiarity that propelled us together rather than pulled us apart. In the moment, there was just us two and nothing else mattered.

“Of course, there are so many wrinkles now too.” I finished with a smirk.

Sehun pretended to be offended. “Me? Having wrinkles? You must be blind.” He spilled out, reaching for my face to gently lower it to his. “Is there something wrong with your eyes?”

This time it was his turn as he looked over me, slightly prodding my skin and pinching the apples of my cheeks until I was giggling slightly under my breath. “Hmm,” he whispered with a crescent fall to his lips, his breath falling over me. “Nothing’s wrong here, they’re just as beautiful as ever.”

Somewhere along the way, we had ended up face to face. His nose was brushing against mine and all I could see was his stormy eyes gazing at me, the golden hue of the sunset filtering in through the window and surrounding us. I leaned into him and his warm hand settled on my cheek, pulling me closer as his—

The door slammed open and I jumped back. The two of us separated from shock, but at seeing that it was just Jisung’s form in the doorway, Sehun seemed to instinctively pull me closer again. It wasn’t until we really looked at Jisung, however, that we noticed his puffy red eyes and the blank look on his face as he stared down at his feet. He was holding his cellphone haphazardly in the palm of his hand, looking as if it were about to lose its grip and fall from his grasp at any second.

I went to ask what was surely on both of our minds, but Sehun beat me to it. “What happened?” He breathed out in building question.

Jisung took a slow, shuffled step forward before finally meeting Sehun’s gaze, a loose tear running down his small face. “Hyung—” he broke off, more tears falling freely.

Sehun stood up almost instantly, grabbing Jisung on the shoulders as he looked back and forth between him and the phone. “What’s wrong? Tell Hyung what happened.”

“M-mom called…” Jisung finally got out. Sehun’s face went blank, but his eyes darkened significantly. “She was trying to get me to meet her somewhere, b-but when I refused, she—” he choked, his face splotching in red. Sehun tried to calm him, one hand wiping tears away as the other patted his back. All I could do was stand helplessly, the image of them two weighing down the same image of my brother and I.

Jisung struggled. “—S-she got really mad and started yelling—”

Shh, Sehun soothed, his voice quivering slightly, but from the growing look in his eyes and the stiff posture building in his muscles, I could tell it was from anger. “You don’t have to say it.”  

Sehun glanced over his shoulder and I froze from the pure intensity he was giving off, but his gaze softened as it landed on me. His eyes conveyed everything I needed to know in order to see that he wanted help. I quickly took the few steps over to them and Sehun maneuvered the phone from his grasp and stepped out once I had a hold on Jisung. His footsteps were booming as they walked from the room and through the front door, it slams behind him.

“Come here,” I breathed out, taking his hand. “Come sit down.”

“I hate crying.” Jisung sniffed, letting me pull him over to Sehun’s bed. He folded in half, rubbing his tears away with small fists as I patted his back lightly.

“There’s nothing wrong with crying.” I offered smally, not expecting his remark. “Noona cries all the time, so does your Hyung.”

Jisung looked up then, his red eyes watery and unbelieving. “Does he really?” He asked in a cracked voice.

“Of course. Everyone cries sometimes, there is absolutely nothing wrong with letting out your emotions and feeling whatever it is that you are feeling at this moment. Sometimes Sehun and I even cry together.”

Jisung’s face scrunched up, the tears slowly coming to a stop, but he didn’t say anything else or try to rub them away. We stayed silent until he had completely caught his breath, some healthy colors returning to his face.

“I don’t get it…” he trailed off, looking at the ground as if he was waiting for it to provide him with all of the answers to his questions. I found myself looking too, hoping in a sliver of chance that maybe it would. He let out a reserved huff, one that resonates the guttural exhale of what it means to be a young boy expected to handle everything like a grown man.

Men were pitiful like that, I’ve realized, stuck in a box that was their body, confined and betrayed by even their ability to express. I looked at him and was reminded of my own brother, a tightness surrounded my throat and my eyes began to burn. I set my hand atop his shoulder and tried to radiate every bit of support I could through my fingers and into the cool fabric of his red jersey.

Sehun entered then and the door creaked open as he pushed through the small wooden frame. He had to bend a little as to not hit his head, his large hand rested backwards onto his neck as he feverishly rubbed his blonde locks around. He looked tired as he made eye contact with me, the tired that is mental, the tired that rests in your bones. I knew this, for I too understood that unwarmable ache.

Pleasantries never worked, nor did your favorite movie on a Saturday night wrapped in pajamas that you deemed just right. You still clicked the TV remote off and let it sink back in, let the tired rest into your bones and whisper silence louder than any attempt to lighten yourself had ever spoken. I smiled at him, albeit a weak one, but it was genuine. He returned a soft gaze of his own, one that was so Sehun-like that I felt like no other gaze amounted to it. Stormy eyes blinked out a gentleness; a comfort that had always been there.

He rested next to Jisung and placed his hand in the same position as mine on his opposite shoulder, rocking his younger brother a bit before pulling him into his chest. My hand fell away and I closed them together in my lap, so I didn’t have to feel the absence of warmth.

The sight of brothers clinging together, always together, brought a tender image I felt connected to, yet so far distanced from that I found myself looking away, sniffing to acknowledge to myself that I was indeed real in this moment. Sehun stroked the top of Jisung’s identical blonde locks and looked down at him with a wiseness that he seemed to carry on his shoulders. It was the same look he would give my brother when they were growing up, and at times, would even give me.

It was a look he always had, even when he was young, and I, even younger. A soft smile of bitter sweetness glimpsed my face as I remembered.  

“Halmeoni!” She cried with the anguish of tightened muddy fists and a tarnished dress, painted with the throes of play gone wrong. “Halmeoni!” She looked at the familiar, yet unfamiliar way in which strangers moved past her, their eyes reflecting the muddy remains of her dress.

“Whose child is that?” They whispered. “Who cares.” Another says.

Haru pushes past, suffocating within the bends of foot traffic and bike whistles, distant radios and patron chatter. Her eyes blur and she wails out in desperation just as someone grabs her arm tightly, pulling her to the side with the grip of heated intent.

“What’s the matter, my puppy, what happened? Where’s your brother at?” She recognized the sweet sigh of her grandmother’s voice. The distant, but firm smell of earthy mushrooms from their shop and the blue starch apron that was always wrapped around the bend of her wide hips. Haru collapsed against her side with huffs of pink lips exhaling the remainder of her stress and releasing the stares from cold, careless faces.

“Halmeoni, Oppa needs help!” She begged with tense eyes, taking fistfuls of that blue apron into her tiny palms. “He falled from the top, the top top Halmeoni! I-I told him to get up, to stop picking on me like you told me to do, b-but he won’t get up! Halmeoni,” she whined, tugging again, “Oppa won’t get up! Oppa won’t get up!”

“Oh, my puppy, my sweet Haru, what am I goin’ to do with you.” She clicked her tongue as her hand caressed the brown locks of Haru’s tangled hair and tucked them behind her ear.

“Dry them tears baby, here comes your Oppa now, and that handsome Oh Sehun boy beside him. Go on, look,” she coerced with a slight push, unfurrowing the small hands from her apron and giving them a loving pat. She reached down and pinched the soft flesh of Haru’s pink cheeks and Haru giggled, a tinkle of soft bells, before nodding her head and turning anxiously to find her Oppa.

She gasped once seeing them indeed coming up the road, her brother waving an arm in the air and Oh Sehun gazing on with that particular look of his. The grandmother simply chuckled before turning back around to tend to her rows of turnip roots, mushrooms, and other vegetables littered throughout the small shop.

Haru had a fresh set of crocodile tears falling down her face by the time she reached her brother and his best friend. She ran into his arms and he patted her head like older brothers do.

“Why you didn’t get up?” She accused, her fiery eyes demanding answers while sneakily running her gaze over her brother’s body, inspecting for wounds the size of watermelons she would beg her grandmother to cut into bite sizes during the summer months.

Her brother simply smiled. “I’m sorry, I was just catching my breath. Sehun will tell ya’, won’t you?” He nudged his best friend with a look of obligation, but Oh Sehun was already patting her small head with the same look of love her brother had given her.

“You don’t have to worry Haru-ya,” Sehun announced, his voice steady and warm. “I’ll take care of all the bad things before they happen, that way you won’t have to cry again.”

Haru dried her tears and held out her small pinkie finger as a response. “It not true if you don’t promise it.” Sehun laughed, but held his hand out, nonetheless. “And don’t forget to stamp it!” Their fingers pushed up against one another like walls of support and they both smiled, innocent, loving smiles.

A light hand fell against my knee and I blinked the memory away, looking at the large palm of Sehun’s warm hand as it rested against the dull material of my jeans. I had the urge to envelope that hand into my own, to hold onto it and force it to promise me like it did once ago to drive away all the bad things, to turn back time and make everything better again.

I wanted, in an unfair pleasure, to have Oppa back, to laugh with him and do normal things with him. I wanted to receive texts way after I had shut myself in my room, asking if I wanted ramen and if I wanted spicy or savory because he knew my answer would always be yes. I missed the constant chatter, the TV blaring as soon as I walked through the door because he constantly forgot to turn it off. I missed being loved, unconditionally, by one person who would always be there.

Was supposed to always be there.

It was unfair, but it isn’t a fairness I could change. And it isn’t a fairness Sehun could change either. He wasn’t ever able to, which in itself, is the most fitting, and yet unfitting thing to say about him.

I decided to hold his hand anyway. It felt nice in mine; it felt like it could warm my bones. He rubbed his thumb over the back of my knuckles and squeezed tightly. It was like he needed something to ground himself on— just as I held onto myself for reassurance, he reached out and held onto me. The grip, though warm and gentle, felt foreign, like the grip only knew how to comfort, not to receive.

It made me wonder, who was ever there for him?

Just as easily as he held on, he let go. And as if one was normally able to see warmth leave your body, I saw it leave his with a tremble of his fingers and a dullness of responsibility in his gaze.

“Listen,” he spoke clearly, pulling Jisung back to look him properly in the eyes. “There are going to be people in this world, no matter where you are, that will try to tell you how to feel about yourself. They’re going to tell you that what you feel isn’t real, that what you feel isn’t right. They will de-validate you every chance they get in order to validate themselves. Do you get what I mean?” He asked firmly, his stormy eyes searching intently for something I wasn’t even sure of.

Jisung sniffed, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. I pushed a tissue from my pocket into his palm, to which he took absentmindedly. “I guess… I just don’t get why. Why would she call me after such a long time, call me close to Christmas,” he seemed to correct himself, his words like embers from a dying fire. “Why call to just tell me that she’s tired of trying and that I’m a lost cause? What does that even mean?”

Sehun sighed through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut for the smallest of moments before pulling Jisung back into a hug. He looked almost motherly then, as if he was willing to be, to do, whatever it took to protect Jisung. Protect, though, felt like a small word in light of what I felt Sehun would do for those around him. He was extraordinary in that way, selfless in the most self-driven way.

“She says those things because it is easier for her to believe that you are the problem instead of acknowledging that she is the problem. That’s where you have to know inside that what she says isn’t true, that everyone else doesn’t get to say who you are or what you are capable of being. You and only you get to decide that.

“It’s an awful lot to ask of one person, but I need to know that you understand that there is nothing wrong with you. Can you promise me that you won’t listen to her when she says things like that?”

It was Jisung’s turn to sigh this time, his though, was short and contemplative, it came from the head instead of the gut. “I promise... I guess.”

“You guess?” Sehun asked in the same way Oppa used to when I back talked him.

Jisung turned and looked at me instead of answering Sehun. It shocked me inside and my eyes widened, remembering that I was here too, not just watching from the outside, but actually a part of something important. Jisung pouted his lips out, but his eyes were suddenly dancing. I knew that look and for a few seconds, I felt light in anticipation.

“Noona,” he deadpanned in a very no-nonsense manner. I looked at him straight before he said rapidly in one breath. “Please-date-Hyung-already-he’s-an-inch-from-being-seventy-years-old-and-I-fear-that-you’re-his-last result-for-liveliness-I-mean-you-should-have–”

Sehun let out an indecipherable blurt of words, quickly reaching for Jisung’s mouth to stop him from continuing. Jisung’s laughter escaped through his palm, however, lightening the room with every outburst. “–shood’ve heen ‘em pashin’,” he struggled against Sehun, his eyes turned half-moons before finally freeing himself from his grip “–waiting for you to call!”

“Oo-okay,” Sehun ended, picking up a cackling Jisung by the arms and pulling him from the bed. Jisung gave me a few half attempts at winks over Sehun’s large body before Sehun covered his face with him palm and pushed him out the door. “Since you are so funny now, go be funny somewhere else.”

“Ahh Hyung,” Jisung whined, looking like the smallest fourteen-year old I had ever seen. I couldn’t help but laugh out loud as Sehun slammed the door in his face, completely unmoved by Jisung’s efforts. It was times like this that I remembered they were siblings, young siblings, before everything else. Maybe it was the most important thing to remember about them, yet the easiest forgotten.

Sehun waited patiently by the door until he heard the video game music cue backup and Jisung laugh at something one of the boys had said. His shoulders seemed to relax then and he finally turned away, coming back to the bed and plopping down beside me.

“I’m sorry,” he directed at me around a huffy laugh. His eyes were closed, and his cheeks were lightly dusted in petal-like pink. I thought he looked awfully cute then, and though a small part of me felt that feelings as such were too unfitting of our circumstances, another significantly disagreed.

“Don’t apologize,” I said as I fell onto my back beside him. “I’m just glad Jisung is feeling a little better. Your mom sounds…” I trailed off, not wanting to say anything to worsen the mood— although like an asshole, was resting on the tip of my tongue.

Sehun hummed in response, a low, guttural one that made my insides tingle and a soft shiver to run up the expanse of my back. A swirling haze of clouded grey was pooling in the depths of his eyes that felt endless as we sat still and breathed on another in. His eyes housed a lifetime of enduring, of letting it all in and swallowing it down one grain of salt at a time. A grain for every loss of innocence, a pinch for each disappointment, a spoonful for building regrets, and a handful of molding heartache— he was cooking inside, and it was bubbling up, over, and into the space he allowed me to exist in. There was only a small crack he hinged open to fit a hand through in hopes that someone would hold on.

He gazed on at me and I gazed back, as simple and completely un-simple as that.

“There were times that were good,” he furrowed his eyebrows as if it was hard to speak. “It wasn’t always this way, I guess. But still, you can say it, she is an asshole,” he smiled one of those not so happy smiles and I tried to return the favor, but the notion didn’t quite translate.

“When Jisung was born, I really thought they had changed. Dad came back from America and ran the business remotely, and Mom stopped—” he paused, and my insides broiled, but he knew I had known for a long while and so he settled on, “—the abuse.

“They love Jisung, they really do, even if they suck at being parents. But even so, they aren’t good to be around and there’s no way I can sit and let her do to Jisung what she did to me. Especially since Dad left and I am no longer the small, easily manipulated boy anymore. There is no one else but Jisung to take her anger out on.

“He misses her, though, I can see it when he looks at the other mothers at his school or comes back from his friend’s houses and talks about how kind their parents are.” He gulped as he looked into me with unsteady, dissolving ends. “Sometimes, I’m worried I am not enough.

“Am I doing the right thing Haru?” He whispered and the crack in his large wall grew a little more.

I felt overwhelmed in the moment, a wall of frost falling around us and encapsulating the sacks that held the soup of us inside. Sometimes, I’m worried I am not enough. Sometimes, I’m afraid to figure out what enough is.

Instinct, really, is what drove me to reach out for him, to stop the numbing and reach for the fire. To say it was anything else would be purely extrapolation. It was embedded in me to reach out, but for him, it was a new sensation, a bleeding of orange and yellow ink into the thin lines of his torn skin. He held on, though. And when our foreheads rested against one another’s, his body was left shaking and needy, dripping the salty exhaustion of boiling so much frost inside.

I spoke when he was warmed.

“I think that enough and right thing will never be a judgement I can make for you, maybe not even for myself. I can’t tell you what makes sense or why things are the way they are. Those are all things we have to come to ourselves, in our own time.” My hand reached out and gently grasped the side of his chiseled face. His skin was warm and soft, and he closed his eyes against my touch. “I can tell you that being here, right now, and feeling upset, afraid, doubting yourself, being unsure of the future, or anything else, is okay. Sehun, it’s okay to not know and it’s okay to not be okay.

“All we can do as people is feel everything there is to feel, soak it up and process it, but then we let it go. What we decide to do from there is exactly what we were meant to do— enough and right thing will never factor into that because you are simply you and your actions will only ever be yours.”

His eyes fluttered open, his long lashes bouncing with the weight of unshed tears— tears that I would guess hadn’t seen daylight in a long time. “Jisung loves you and he is protected, loved, and accepted unconditionally by you. Those are things that you, solely, provide for him with no guidance and no one asking you to do it. If enough exists, then you will always be enough for Jisung.

“And for me.” I added as an afterthought.

He took a while to say anything and I imagined he was soaking it in as he slowly evolved me into his grasp. His fingers became nimble petals, leaving light traces of growth on the small of my back and the soft of my arm as he bloomed all around me, sliding his tender rooted fingers into the locks of my hair. He breathed in my oxygen and I breathed in his grounding presence until we were buried into one another.

“You won’t leave me, right?” He asked in tightened fingers and pollinated yellows.

“No,” I promised. “And you won’t leave me?”

“I’m yours, Haru-ya, that’s never changed.” He planted a delicate kiss across the loam of my forehead and breathed out the words I knew I had wanted to hear for a long time. “And if it’s what you want, then we can be each other’s.”

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#smearsyd writes #exowritersnet #exo scenarios #sehun x oc #sehun scenario #exo fluff #exo romance #exo hurt and comfort #exo #exo sehun #sehun series #oh sehun #mywriting #exo fanfic

[serpentemvectem]

Life As A Lie | Chapter 1 - The Arrival

Professor Snape. That is how everyone knew him at Hogwarts. But to you, he was so much more. Your protector and caretaker. The man who showed you his affectionate side that nobody could even guess he had. He was loving and caring. After all, he was your father. 

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You had always known you were magical. You grew up in the magical world and surrounded by many different types of people. While your father was involved with intimidating-looking people, he also had introduced you to some legendary witches and wizards. You had met Professor Dumbledore before your first year had even started and he seemed to take a liking to you instantly. You thought to yourself, maybe this will give me an extra advantage at school, although you did genuinely have an affinity for the elderly man. 

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The doors to the Great Hall opened with a heavy gust of wind and you and your fellow 1st year witches and wizards were greeted with a grand entrance. You eyed your father on the far side of the Great Hall and gave him a small, but nervous smile. He winked back at you. Taking in the sight of your new school, you looked around and met eyes with an all too familiar looking boy with circle rimmed glasses and an infamous lighting bolt scarred on his forehead - Harry Potter. Your father had always talked about the boy, with a strange sense of passion; almost as if he was his own long lost child who he longed to come back to him. Harry looked at you for a split second, a look of confusion plastered on his face, then blinked down towards the ground. You looked around again and saw the flash of platinum blonde hair. Ah, Draco Malfoy. Your father was very close with the Malfoy family and you had met Draco a few times over dinner while your father and his rather intimidating parents spoke about nonsense and things you both were far too young to even begin to understand. He looked over at you, his cunning smirk written all over his face. Clearly he was eager to be sorted. You however, were nervous. Although your father was a well known member of the Slytherin house, part of you wondered whether the hat would sort you into a different house. You were outgoing and social, intelligent and hardworking, brave yet implusive, but overall incredibly ambitious and had a thirst for being the leader in important situations. Hopefully, this aspect would override the others, earning you a spot in Slytherin. 

“Harry Potter”, the woman with a traditional witches hat called the name of the boy. A wave of silence hushed the Great Hall as Harry stepped up to the sorting hat. “GRYFFINDOR” the hat exclaimed and you could tell Harry sighed a breath of relief. 

“Y/N Snape”. It was your turn. The Hall once again was washed over by an invisible wave of silence, and you nervously walked over to the seat, not forgetting to shoot your father a nervous look beforehand. He nodded assuringly and you took a seat. 

“Ah Y/N Snape... you have great things in store for you here at Hogwarts. Many secrets to be uncovered now hey? You would fit well into every house, a rare occurrence. Friendly and outgoing as a Hufflepuff, yet your ambitiousness and overriding determination would place you in... SLYTHERIN!” The Slytherin table erupted in cheers and you smiled, taking a seat next to Draco. 

“Relieved?” He asked.

“Just a bit.” You responded with a small smile. He smiled back at you as the ceremony and festivities continued and Dumbledore made his welcoming speech to the new first year students. 

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You started unpacking your bags and settling into your new room. The dark green walls reminded you of a damp forest and you almost slipped into a day dream being surrounded by trees in a serene and calming landscape when you heard your name. 

“Y/N? You’re Professor Snape’s daughter, right?” A girl with green eyes and long, almost jet black hair asked.

“Um ye-yeah I am.” 

“Hi, I’m Elladora Thistle. But everyone calls me Ella.” She extended a hand out to you. 

“Nice to meet you Ella.”

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You and Ella got on very well. You two were very alike; not typical Slytherins. You discovered that you both had similar schedules for classes and decided to study for them together in the following months. Potions was undoubtedly your favorite subjects. Not only the curriculum of the class intrigued you, but seeing the colder side of your father was something you had never expected to see. He displayed a monotone voice with a stern, cold look on his face to everyone. 

“Keeping up your character of being the hardcore potions teacher huh?” You asked him one day after class. 

“Well, we can't have any students thinking they can get away with just anything now can we?” 

You continued to study with him after potions class and soon enough, Ella started to join you as well. Your father seemed to like Ella a lot, seeing as she was your new best friend and decided to take her under his wing at Hogwarts, protecting the Slytherin girl from any potential issues (not to mention he tended to do this with many of the young Slytherins, but Ella and you more than most). 

This year was off to a great start. You began to grow closer to fellow Slytherins Draco Malfoy and his posse - enjoying their cunning ways and laughing at Crabbe and Goyle’s obliviousness -  yet you were making friends outside of the house of the snake as well. 

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Winter had rolled around and the castle grounds were blanketed with a thick layer of snow. You walked with Draco towards potions class when you bumped into Harry Potter and two of his friends, the red head boy - Weasley, is it? - and Hermione Granger, arguably Hogwarts smartest student. You always did admire her intelligence and secretly wanted to be friends with her, except your loyalty to your house somewhat affected this as Draco despised of Harry and his friends. 

“Oi. Watch where you’re going Potter.” Draco spat.

“I could say the same for you, Malfoy.” Harry spat back. 

Draco stiffened. His face tensed up and you could tell he would not tolerate being talked back to. Your father always said this was the part of Draco that made him most like his father. 

“You and your filthy, unworthy friends have no place-” 

“Draco... come on now. Lets just move past it.” You interrupted, ushering him to come along with you to potions, looking back at Harry and his friends with a small sympathetic look. They looked back at you, almost shocked at what had just happened. I mean, a Slytherin, doing something nice? It can’t be. Especially since you were Snape’s daughter. Harry had already decided that Snape was evil and working for the Dark Lord. How could his daughter be any different? This strange occurrence stuck with Harry for the rest of the year, and, by the end of the year, Harry had amassed a small amount of respect for you. 

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#Harry Potter #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco Malfoy imagine #ron Weasley #Hermione granger #snapes daughter #Hogwarts #lies #hurt #Severus snape #voldemort #dark lord #Dumbledore

[thorns-ofthe-thistle]

The Deal is the Deal . [Bristle + Belle]

In which the Queen of the Underworld makes a deal with a Fae Prince...[takes place early August, 2021]

@fiend-ofthefae, @labellerose-acheron

[tw -- none except shady dealmaking lol, mentions of kidnapping?]

THISTLE: Thistle was only doing this because it entertained him. He was quite sure that Briar would say no and that would be the end of that. This Belle might throw a fit and that itself would make it worth it. He found this whole situation rather odd, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued. A magical sword in Elfhame and a party of what? Ragtag Mundus to try and retrieve it? Even if they were caught, at least the queen would be mollified by a lovely new crop of servants. 

They had agreed on a neutral location to meet: a spot by the lake. 

Thistle had been the liaison between Briar and Belle. Now, he walked to the meeting site with his cousin. 

“I doubt whatever they have to offer will do us much good in the long run,” he said under his breath to Briar. Though, he supposed it was Briar’s prerogative whether he helped them or not. 

They found the correct spot, in the treeline a rather far distance from the water. Standing in the shade was a beautiful, petite woman—her hair pulled back in a ponytail, her skirt catching in the wind. At her side hulked a huge, black hound which rippled with magic. Ah, so perhaps she was not so simple-minded as Thistle assumed. That would certainly make this more fun. 

There was a spark to her bright eyes as she caught sight of them. “Thistle, I presume? And Briar? I’m Belle.” 

Belle Acheron, Thistle knew, but he wasn’t sure if that was her True Name or not. Human names could be quite complicated. He noted that she didn’t give her last name, so she was at least aware of the power. 

“Yes, I am Thistle. This is Briar.”

BRIAR: Briar was skeptical about the whole deal the mortals wanted to make. He didn’t trust them to withstand the allure of Elfhame and make it out alive. Most humans that ventured to the wild fae realm never returned… but most of them didn’t have the guts to make a deal with the Fey Princes either. 

“I don’t think any humans would have anything that I would want, but they might be entertaining. Who knows? They might surprise us,” Briar responded with the same detached attitude as they approached. 

Belle meant beauty and she had it in spades. But did she have the will? Briar hoped she did. It would be all the more exciting if she did. And she brought a dog. How cute. 

The younger of the cousins watched on as she introduced herself and Thistle introduced them. He was kind of bummed she knew about the whole name thing. It could have been a scheme and a half to compel her and lure her friends to Elfhame. He let his mind wander to how that would play out for him. The Queen gets new slaves, ahem, entertainers and he got… Well, nothing really. 

Annoying. 

“Prince Briar,” he specified, and pointed to the hound at her side lackadaisically. “Can I pet your dog?” 

BELLE:  Was Belle excited to meet two fae princes? 

Abso-fucking-lutely. 

How often did one get to meet a real fae prince? Not often, she would wager and she was meeting two. Which meant she had to soak all this in. She had drilled Wendy with questions and hit the books. Learned all she could, even if she had to cross reference against what Wendy said. 

She bounced on the balls of her feet but stilled when the princes drew nearer. Belle lifted her chin and did her best to look poised and in control. Didn’t want to look eager, even if the spark in her eye gave her away. She always joked about being Lady of the Underworld, because she thought it was silly. But if there was anyway it could infuse her with some sort of power, even just the social kind, now was the time for it.

“I’m—“ she paused, realizing she was about to apologize off the bat. She took a breath and lifted her chin again. “Prince Briar, then,” Belle corrected. 

“You may try,” she told the prince. Shuck growled low at her side, pulling back his black gums to show a row of sharp white teeth, a bit of smoke curled from his lips. 

“You wish to go to Elfhame?” said Prince Thistle.

“I do,” Belle replied simply. “And I require an escort.”

BRIAR: Briar smirked at her addressing him. He really didn’t need the ego boost, but he wanted it anyway. However it quickly faded with the snarl of the beast next to her. Clever girl brought a creature of the night to protect her. The Fae Prince noticed the smoke and the dark color; this was no ordinary dog. Reminded him of the night hounds that howled all across the Riverlands on those many foggy nights. 

He pulled back his hand casually, brushing off his brief shock, shoving it into his pocket. “Well, if an escort is what you want… I’m more than willing. But what can you do for me?”

Thistle wasn’t going to go back, Slightly couldn’t… So Briar was her only bet. 

He could get whatever he wanted from her if she wanted it badly enough. 

“I’d say I’d do it for free, but nothing is ever free with the fair folk.” If he were to speak it, the truth was that he’d do it purely for the enjoyment of watching them fail and be swept into the mystic allure that is Elfhame. 

BELLE:  No, Belle had not expected it to be free. 

She had spent a good deal of time trying to decide what it was she could offer the fae. Belle did not have to be told that leaving it open ended was not a good option. A fae coming to collect on a debt never worked out well in the stories. 

However, she was just a Mundus. No matter who she surrounded herself with. There were the other knights, but she doubted they’d appreciate her volunteering them for something. Besides, she didn’t know what a fae prince could even want. There was not much that she could give. The only thing she’d been able to think of she reached into her pocket now and drew out after glancing around to make certain they were alone. 

In her palm several jewels glimmered with unearthly glow. 

“Would these be sufficient?” she asked. 

Thistle moved closer and plucked one from the bunch. Belle made as if she was going to draw her hand back, but she let him look. Let him feel the pulse of its magic. 

“What are they?” he asked, holding the emerald he held up to the fading light. 

“Gems from the Third World, the Underworld.” She wondered if the fae would know of her kingdom. 

Thistle looked at Briar and raised an eyebrow. Belle waited with bated breath.

BRIAR: Briar took a peek at the glimmering jewels. He could feel the magic they had from where he stood, but that didn’t mean they were useful to him. The princes shared a look. 

Briar could take the gems and call it a day, but Thistle would want a cut for organizing this transaction. And if this handful of jewels were all she had then he wouldn’t be getting much aside from the enjoyment of watching mortals struggle. 

“Is that all you have? As interesting as pretty, shiny things are… What are they to me? They’re magic, but what do they do, little flower?” Yes, Briar had a thing for giving names to the ladies. And this woman was anything but a little flower. But calling her a dangerous one would be far too high a compliment for someone he just met. 

BELLE:  Belle’s eyes narrowed at the nickname. It sent a shiver down her spine, reminding her of all the boys that had plagued her during school. All the people who had spoken down to her, just because she was slight and, to many’s standards, a beautiful woman. She hated it, but she held her tongue, not wanting to insult them. It made it easier to hide her discomfort with the situation. Hades always teased her for being an open book. Instead, her eyes were hard and her lips were pursed in disapproval. 

Part of Belle had hoped that handing over the gems would be enough. From what she had read, the fae loved to adorn themselves with beautiful, powerful objects. Wendy’s warning rang in her mind again: that you could not trust books when it came to the fae. 

However, she still had a few cards to play. The gems were ones that Hades had brought back years ago now. Some of the objects that they kept hidden in their new office. Belle had brought three with her now. They were small, but they were powerful.

“You can store a memory in each of them,” Belle told the prince. She did not tell him that he would have to take it to a sorcerer to do so. Who knew, maybe he didn’t need to. Besides, it was a harmless kind of magic. Something to show off with, but nothing that could do any damage. The last thing Belle wanted to hand over was a weapon. 

“If they don’t suit you, I can take them back, Your Highness.” She held out her hand. Shuck growled again at her side.

BRIAR: He held the gems up to his eye, with one closed, to inspect them as she spoke of their use. Briar had to admit they did call to him, if not just for their beauty. The Mountainlands were one of the only places to get magical gems in Elfhame. And despite being across from the Riverlands, the two kingdoms did often share resources as such. 

Not that it was ever really enough for the Prince. He was quite fond of stones. Be it gems, rocks covered in lichens, or stones polished by the currents. 

“No,” he placed them in his pocket defensively, “I don’t know if they suit me particularly, but I’d like to keep them.” 

There was a pause.

“Anyways, what do you need this sword for? And how’d it get into the Fae Realm? It’s not like you mortals can just come and go as you please from our domain,” Briar made a swooping gesture to the trio, “Obviously. So, what poor unfortunate soul is trapped in the High Court right now? I trust you know that if I take you, you won’t be able to bring them back.” 

The Fae Prince looked at Belle darkly, almost taunting her. You can have one, but not the other. Will you make the hard choice? Or be stuck in Elfhame with the other mortals you dragged along because of your hubris? 

BELLE:  It was fair Briar would have questions. 

Belle tried not to worry too much about them. Or the fact that he’d just taken the jewels and she wasn’t getting them back. She had been prepared for that. Their duty was to make sure the fae stayed and listened, and were more open to assisting. And it seemed like they were. At the very least, they hadn’t walked off yet. This wasn’t over. 

She took a moment to decide how to word what she was going to say. It only made her a little nervous. Wendy had told her long pauses to gather one’s thoughts was customary in Fae vernacular, and she actually quite appreciated that, considering it was her natural speech pattern. 

There could not be too much given away. Nor too much hidden. She needed to make it sound enticing, but not too valuable. His challenging gaze only made her want to convince him more. It didn’t intimidate her. 

“John Darling.” It was already all over the news, telling his story wasn’t going to do much. Her gaze flicked to Thistle. “I am under the impression you’re familiar?”

The fae nodded, but his expression betrayed little else. 

“I am not sure how he managed it, but he’s of the clever sort,” she said this proudly and her eyes flashed. I am too. After everything that had happened with the Order, she was glad to be in a situation where she felt more in control. 

“That isn’t why we are asking for access. It is the sword that we need.” Though, it was not all they wanted. If Belle could get John back too, she would. “It is important to us and to the town, without it—something terrible will happen. I figured it would be polite to ask, before we attempt to make our own way.” 

Translation: we don’t need you. 

It was a gamble and a bit of a threat. Perhaps an empty one. But, if John could manage it on his own, Belle was confident the knights could manage it together. 

BRIAR: Briar waved a hand dismissively. He didn't really care about who got trapped in Elfhame, just that Belle cared enough about him. Clearly the guy wasn’t that clever since he became a pet in the end. Thistle might have known him considering he was engaged to one, but Briar was above tying himself to a human who’d die of old age in the blink of an eye. 

Old humans were not sexy. This Belle girl though? She was in her prime. 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s so clever… still trapped though. I can help with the sword. But if one of the Queen’s pets goes missing that would be bad for all of us. It’s probably in the High Court somewhere.” Briar thought about the layout of his old home. The Gardens, the Court, it was all expansive. Where would his dear old Granny keep the damn thing? 

“What do you think, Toodles? Where would our lovely Grandmother display her boring Mundus artifacts?” 

BELLE:  Belle heard the warning in Briar’s voice concerning John, but she was undecided if she would heed it or not. After all, John was her friend and with about eight people volunteering to go, this might be the best time to try and free him. And Belle couldn’t waste an opportunity like that. She would never forgive herself if she didn’t try. Even if he technically wasn’t the mission. Even if it would put a target on their backs. 

She hoped that Briar meant it when he said “boring Mundus artifact” because that would mean the Fae Queen wouldn’t know the value of what she had. But, Belle doubted it. The Fae Queen was not a queen without being very aware of her advantages. 

Still, Belle didn’t say anything. Just turned and watched Thistle as he shrugged. 

“Certainly not above the mantle. I bet it’s ugly,” he snorted off-handedly. His eyes found her own, but she refused to bristle at the statement. 

“Even so,” Belle urged. 

“Even so; it is most likely in the library. Or perhaps the armory. Or maybe she sleeps with it underneath her pillow.” 

BRIAR: “Even so…” he mocked, “it would at least be interesting to watch a bunch of mortals break into the High Fey Queen’s home to steal something she’s taken a liking to.” 

He weighed the risk versus the thrill it could give. A game he was pretty good at after decades of rolling the dice. “Fine. I’ll do it on the condition that no one involved reveals what I am to anyone in this realm. I’ve got a thing going here and I don’t want the iron to come out.”

Shit.

Did she know about that part? Eh, who cares. This one wouldn’t test the fickle balance of a bargain she had just struck. “Do we have a deal?” 

He reached out a hand to shake and seal the pact. 

#swynbriar #bdrpbelle #bristle #thelle #the deal is the deal #i have been wanting to use #that title and this is #so perfect for it haha #the VIBES man the VIBES #i love the fae