#mad sweeney imagine

[bearwriting]

Gather

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Summary: Bruised and bloodied, you end up with the last person you thought you'd turn to, and he wants answers.

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: alcohol use, drinking

“Who was he?” you asked as he pulled back onto the freeway.

“Someone very powerful. And, like I said, someone you don’t want to fuck with. He gave up your keys too easily, I don’t like it.”

You shrugged. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’m gonna try to get some sleep, but wake me up when we get to a motel.”

You balled up your sweatshirt between your head and the car window and fell asleep almost immediately.

Sweeney took that opportunity to scan your sleeping face, the fear from earlier a stone in his stomach. Why was Fear Doirich looking for you? He had said he wanted whatever it was that you had been sent to retrieve for Wednesday, but that was a lie. At least, it was a partial one. The Dark Man was plotting something, Sweeney just knew it, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Sweeney knew he couldn’t do anything about it now, but he could at the very least do his damnedest to make sure that you were protected.

A few hours later, Sweeney shook you awake. You peered up at him groggily and groaned. “Five more minutes,” you mumbled, turning away from him and pulling your sweatshirt-pillow closer.

He rolled his eyes. “We’re here so you can keep sleepin’. Besides, I already paid for the room so you are not sleeping in this car.”

You made a muffled sound that Sweeney was fairly confident was an impressive string of profanity.

He huffed. “We don’t have time for this. Up you get, let’s go.” He leaned down and pulled you from the car, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Now you were wide awake.

“Put me down!” you snarled, pounding on his back with your fists. “I’m not a child!”

He snorted. “Could’ve fooled me.”

You growled and aimed a kick at his stomach, feeling your foot sink into the soft flesh there. He doubled over, loosening his grip and nearly dropping you, but you managed to land neatly on your feet.

“You are a fuckin’ piece’a work, you know that?” he snapped.

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back. “Don’t manhandle me.”

“Then get your fuckin’ ass in gear next time!” He stood to his full height, massaging his stomach and sucking in a breath. “Every day you get on my nerves a little more.”

You glared at him. “No one’s forcing you to be here.”

He shot you a look as he unlocked the door of the motel room. You stepped in, wrinkling your nose at the faint odor.

“Would it kill us to get a halfway decent room every once in a while?” you muttered.

He pretended not to hear you and made his way into the bathroom, gesturing for you to follow.

“Up there,” he said, pointing to the counter. “Shirt off.”

You smirked at him. “If you wanted to get me naked you could’ve just said.”

He snorted. “Needta change your bandages.”

You moved to strip down but paused.

“You all right?” he asked. “I can get the scissors again, but at the rate you’ve been goin’ through clothes ‘m not sure—“

You cut him off. “It’s not that it hurts,” you murmured, twisting gently to your left and then to your right. “It’s that it…doesn’t?”

His red eyebrows shot up. “What?” You hurried to correct yourself. “No, I mean it still hurts, obviously it still hurts, but it doesn’t hurt as much as it feels like it should.”

His brow furrowed. “Lemme take a look.”

You pulled your shirt over your shoulders and presented your back to him. Sweeney carefully peeled back the layers of bandages. He sucked in a startled breath and you could see his surprise in the mirror on the wall.

“What is it?” you demanded.

“This is…it shouldn’t look like this,” he said slowly. “I mean, it still doesn’t look good, but considering your flesh was ribbons two days ago?” His eyes met yours in the mirror. “It shouldn’t look like this.”

You twisted to see your back in the mirror and an uneasy feeling settled over you. Sweeney was right, it still didn’t look great, but the deep lacerations across your back looked as though they were at least a few weeks healed, not just a few days.

You turned to Sweeney with wide eyes and were met with an equally surprised stare. He reached out, bracing a hand against your cheek, and gently pulled away the bandage on your face. It was the same. Far more along in healing than it had any right to be.

“What the hell is this?” you demanded.

He held up his hands. “How in the fuck am I s’posed to know?”

“I don’t know! You’re the leprechaun that’s supposedly thousands of years old, I figured if one of us was gonna know what the fuck is going on, it would be you!” You were fairly shouting now, but Sweeney could see the fear that was beginning to creep into your expression.

He shook his head. “I’ve seen a lot of things, love, but nothing like this. You’re healing miles faster than you should be.”

You chewed on your lower lip. “There’s gotta be someone we can ask.”

Sweeney shrugged. “First person I can think of is Circe.”

You shook your head. “I dunno, I don’t know that she would be able to help us with this. I don’t know how much she can help with things that aren’t a direct result of magic.”

He looked at you incredulously. “Look at yer back an’ tell me magic isn’t involved somehow.”

Now it was your turn to shrug. “I don’t know, but honestly? As long as I’m not dying from blood loss or infection, this is not at the top of my list of priorities.”

“So what is?” Sweeney demanded.

You blinked. “Are you serious? The weird bitch that had my car? The one that had you about to shit your britches?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. Who was he?”

Sweeney squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose like he could will your questions away.

“Sweeney,” you demanded.

“He’s someone you don’t want to fuck with,” was his only response.

You stared at him in disbelief. “That cannot be your actual answer. Everyone we interact with is someone we don’t want to fuck with but none of them have ever had you acting like this.”

The ginger giant refused to meet your eyes. You sandwiched his face between your hands and made him look at you. “Sweeney. Who was he?”

His grass-green eyes looked at you pleadingly.

“Don’t make me smack you,” you threatened.

He sighed and pulled his face from your grasp. “You know how you won’t refer to Gr — to the old man by name? This is the same. Names have power, and that…that thing doesn’t need any more than he already has, just like the old man. We’ll call him the Dark Man. S’what his name translates to anyway.”

You looked at him expectantly and he took a deep breath.

Sweeney spoke haltingly. “F—the Dark Man, he…he’s fear itself, as it were. Or one of its iterations at least. He used to…take people. He was a servant of the Faerie Queen and he has…an ability, we’ll call it, to strip people of their will.”

“To make them do what he wants,” you said. It wasn’t a question.

Sweeney nodded. “Many have followed him, but few, if any, have ever come back. The Dark Man, the Black Druid, he’s gone by many different names. He feeds on fear and doubt.”

You scratched your chin thoughtfully. “So what could he want from us? Like…I’ve never actually heard of this guy, not in the way we’ve heard of the old man or Czernobog or anyone else. He can’t actually be that powerful, can he? There’s not that many stories about him, there’s no way—“

“Drop it,” Sweeney said sharply.

You blinked, startled at his tone. Usually, you would immediately be inclined to argue with him or to keep poking the bear, but something in his eyes, something that looked an awful lot like real fear, held you back.

“Fine. Whatever.” You turned your back to him. “I’m going to get food. Come with me or don’t.”

He put a warm hand on your shoulder. “You need rest. I’ll go get us some burgers.”

You looked up at him. “Can we get chicken?”

He chuckled. “Can those eyes get any bigger?”

You stuck out your lower lip for added effect and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “All right, we passed a KFC not too far from here. I’ll go, you rest. Don’t leave this room and don’t open the door for anyone but me.”

You saluted sarcastically. “Yessir.”

He rolled his eyes and left the room, grabbing your keys. The door shut behind him, the lock sliding into place, and you were alone in the dank room. You flipped through the channels on the grainy television until you landed on something that seemed even vaguely interesting.

Shucking off your grimy jeans, you dug through the duffel until you came up with a pair of relatively clean sweatpants and what looked like one of Sweeney’s shirts. You pulled on the sweats and tugged the shirt over your head, rolling up the sleeves until your hands were visible.

You flopped onto the bed, wincing when the wounds on your back twinged in protest, and sighed heavily. The bed wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was the best you’d had in a bit. At the very least, it was significantly better than being stuck in whatever shithole the Jotnar had you in. Sitting up, you pulled the pillows and blankets from their positions, building a nest around yourself, but it still didn’t feel like it was enough. Then, you spied the phone on the nightstand.

You dialed the front desk. “Hi!” you said brightly. “Yes, everything is fine. I was just wondering if it would be possible to have some extra pillows brought to room fifteen? Two or three, if you wouldn’t mind, and an extra blanket if you can. Great, thank you!”

A few minutes later, you had the extra pillows and blanket. You arranged everything into a nest on your bed, propping yourself up with a pillow so you could see the episode of Kitchen Nightmares that was playing on the old, staticky television. You were determined to stay awake until the Irishman returned with your chicken tenders in tow, but as the minutes ticked by you found it more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. You didn’t even notice yourself fall asleep.

Sweeney shouldered the door open, balancing the boxes in one hand. “Here’s yer damn chicken, you—“

He stopped short when he saw you curled up in a nest of blankets and pillows, fast asleep and breathing softly. Your hair was a mess, sticking out in all directions, and the circles under your eyes were dark as bruises, but you were asleep. Properly asleep, not passed out from pain or crammed into a car. He knew he should wake you and make you eat something, but you looked so small and fragile that he couldn’t bring himself to disturb you.

Sweeney turned off the TV and slid into the empty bed. Staring up at the blank ceiling, his mind ran a mile a minute. He still couldn’t wrap his head around why Fear Doirich would have taken an interest in you, and it made his skin crawl. The Dark Man had said that he’d wanted whatever it was that you had been sent to retrieve for Grimnir, but that wasn’t the truth. Or at least, it wasn’t the whole truth. He didn’t know how he knew, but he could feel in his gut that there was more to what the Dark Man wanted.

And then there was the matter of your wounds. How were you healing the way you were? There was no way this was occurring naturally, but Sweeney could think of no time between when you’d shown up at his door on the verge of death and now where you would have been able to see a healer. He’d been by your side the entire time and there was nothing and no one that could have done this, but there had to be some sort of external force. He wracked his brain, trying to recall anything that you might have said or done that would indicate that something about you was more than human, but he came up empty.

The leprechaun slept, although fitfully. He found himself waking almost every hour, sitting upright and sweating, eyes darting frantically around the room until they landed on you and he was sure that there was no immediate danger and you were still asleep. That you were still safe.

The next morning, you busied yourself with the coffeepot in the motel room’s dinky kitchenette. The events from the previous day swirled through your mind and you were so preoccupied that you hadn’t noticed Sweeney had woken and was watching you from the counter.

You started when you turned and saw him, almost dropping the coffeepot, and scowled. “You look like shit,” you told him, taking in his bloodshot eyes.

He snorted. “You should look in a mirror, fuck.”

“Did you sleep at all?” you asked.

He made a noncommittal sound. “Here and there.”

You hummed and pointed to a roadmap that you had laid out on the table. “Okay, so the old man’s trinket is in Kansas City, about two and a half hours away from where we are now in Joplin. If we hit the road in the next hour, we can get it and then we’ll be in Kentucky by late tomorrow morning or early afternoon at the latest.”

You set a mug of watery instant coffee down in front of him and he lifted it to his lips, taking a sip and wincing before sliding a flask from his pocket and emptying the contents into the mug. You rolled your eyes.

“I think we should give it a bit before we go get whatever it is that he sent you for,” Sweeney said, eyeing you like he knew you weren’t going to take to that idea at all.

Sure enough, you looked at him incredulously. “Absolutely not. I want to get this shit out of my hands and I want to get paid.”

He glared at you. “You have the Dark Man after you because supposedly he wants whatever it is that you have and the Jotnar are after you for the same reason and because you stole from them. It might be a good idea to lay low for a little.”

“Isn’t that all the more reason to get rid of it?” you asked. “If it gets returned to the old man, it’s not my problem anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes and grunted. “And if you get killed along the way?”

You set your jaw. “I won’t.”

“You’re so sure?”

“I’ve been pretty lucky the last couple of days,” you pointed out. “I’m willing to bet it’ll hold.”

“You’re putting a lot of faith in something that really just amounts to chance,” he muttered.

You grinned. “That’s what I’ve got you for, isn’t it? Don’t you do that every day?”

He chuckled darkly. “That’s not how it works.”

You shrugged. “Either way, I think between the two of us we’ve got enough luck to get us to the other side in one piece.”

He sighed heavily. “Fine, but if you get me killed, I’m haunting you.”

You smiled. “Seems like a fair trade.”

Within the next half hour, you were fed and on the road.

The drive, surprisingly, was relatively peaceful. You bickered about radio stations and music choices, argued about directions, and tried to play road games, which then devolved into a shouting match in which you almost swung on him over his interpretation of the rules for the alphabet game. But nothing came after you. You sighed and patted the dashboard of the car.

“Thanks, darlin’,” you murmured.

Sweeney looked at you. “Talking to the car? And they say I’m the one that’s lost it.”

“You’re just jealous,” you shot back.

“Of who? You or the car?”

“Open to interpretation.”

He swatted at you with a meaty paw and you leaned your seat back as far as it would go, laughing.

He mimicked your laugh in a high tone. “You’re not gonna be laughing when I run us off the road,” he sang.

You sat back up and pouted at him. “You wouldn’t do that to me, you’d be lost without me.”

His eyes flicked to you for a moment before his attention was back on the road. “Yeah,” he said softly, “I would.”

Taken aback by the change in his energy, your eyes darted around for something to change the subject. In the signs whipping past, you saw that you were about half an hour outside of Kansas City, where you had utilized a bus station locker as your storage. You’d lost the key when the Jotnar had caught up to you, throwing it as hard as you could into the Arkansas River, but you were confident that even though your knowledge of spells was limited, you had one to unlock things. And even if you didn’t, you knew how to pick a lock.

You turned to Sweeney. “If we don’t get something to eat soon, I’m going to do something to end up on national news,” you threatened.

“You’re the one that’s having us make this detour, you can wait a couple hours,” he replied.

You grumbled something under your breath about stupid rat bastards and he pretended not to hear.

When you arrived at the station in Kansas City, you shifted your body so you were facing Sweeney. “Can you please, for the love of all things sacred and holy, wait here?”

He shook his head. “Not a chance. I’m not letting you go in there by yourself.”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I can get in and out without anyone seeing me. Please, Sweeney. In and out, I promise.”

He shook his head again. “No. What if it’s a trap? What if they’re waiting for you?”

“Then I’ll scream.”

“I won’t be able to hear you from out here,” he countered.

You huffed. “If I’m not back in this seat in fifteen minutes, you can barge in and rescue me, okay?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Ten minutes.”

“Oh my god, fine. Ten minutes.”

He seemed slightly more satisfied with this, but still unhappy. “At least take this with you,” he said, taking a pendant from his neck and placing it over your head. His fingers brushed your collarbones and seemed to linger for a fraction of a second longer than they needed to, making your cheeks flush. You inspected it and found that it was a small clay pendant with knotwork molded into its face.

You looked at him questioningly but he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“It’s the Dara knot,” he said quietly. “The shield knot. We…we used to use it for protection.”

You wanted to say something, but your tongue was leaden in your mouth. You were overwhelmed with a surge of affection or the giant idiot in the passenger seat of your car and, unable to speak, you settled for patting him on the knee. “I’ll be back soon,” you promised.

He looked at you with a look in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Be safe,” he murmured.

You climbed out of the car and pulled up the hood of your sweatshirt as you made your way inside the station. Your eyes scanned the rows of steel storage lockers until the landed on the one you were looking for. You made a lap around the station before approaching, eyes bouncing from face to face and scanning every nook and cranny, every corner where someone might hide. Satisfied that it was safe, you approached the locker as casually as you could.

The initial aura that hung around it seemed undamaged and you breathed a sigh of relief. Running your fingers around the edges of the door, you felt for the wards you had set. These, too, remained unbroken.

You whispered a few words and the door popped open. The contents within remained undisturbed and your legs jellied with relief. The canvas backpack was crammed into the back, same as you had left it, and you snatched it from the locker, rummaging around and doing a mental inventory. All of your charms and amulets seemed to be present and accounted for, but you kept digging until your fingers closed around what you were looking for. The rough wooden rod was there at the bottom, its warmth seeping into your hand and the carved runes pressing against your skin. You released a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. Gungnir was safe. You wrapped it in a silk cloth that had been tucked into one of the outer compartments of the bag and placed it back inside alongside a small number of vials and herbs before quickly making your way back out to the parking lot, conscious of the fact that your ten minutes was almost up.

Sweeney saw you coming and unlocked the doors. Tossing the bag into the footwell, you slid into the passenger seat and he immediately reached for the bag to begin rummaging through until he produced the cloth bundle. He unwrapped it and his jaw fell open.

“Are you serious? The trinket you were talking about was Gungnir?”

You nodded and he scrubbed his hands over his face.

“Christ, no wonder they were after you! You had Gungnir.”

You looked at him reproachfully. “Don’t take that tone with me.”

“Tone? You had one of the most powerful weapons on the planet in a bus locker and you’re worried about my tone? There’s no way we make it to Jack’s without dying, this might as well be a beacon for everything within a hundred miles!”

You flashed him a grin. “Ah, but therein lies the beauty of this old girl!” you crowed, smacking the dashboard. “She’s warded! Nigh impossible to find.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure about this? Even with something this powerful?”

You chewed your lip. “Like 87% sure.”

His eyes bulged and he made a disbelieving sound. You glared at him. “I’ll say it again, no one’s forcing you to stick around,” you snapped. “If you don’t like it, no one’s making you put your ass on the line. I can get there just fine by myself.”

Sweeney didn’t say a word, but tightened his grip on the wheel and stared straight ahead.

“That’s what I thought,” you muttered.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” he shot back.

“No, but it does mean you have to stop bitching. If I was forcing you to come with me I’d let you complain all you wanted, but let me remind you that you were the one that attached himself to me. So let me do what I need to do and shut the hell and fuck up about it.” You were beginning to get angry.

He didn’t answer but sulked in the driver’s seat. You rolled your eyes and flipped through the radio stations, settling on one that was blaring Alanis Morissette.

Sweeney groaned. “For chrissakes, can’t we listen to something else?”

“No. I’m not listening to your bullshit for the next ten hours.”

He made a face. “So I have to listen to yours?”

“It’s my car!”

“What happened to your rule about the driver picking the music?” he whined.

“When I’m driving,” you said, jabbing a finger at your chest for emphasis. “Otherwise it’s passenger DJ rules.”

“That feels rigged,” he grumbled. He opened his mouth to make what you could only assume was another smartass comment, but his eyes locked on something in the rearview mirror and his face paled. His hand shot out and gripped your thigh.

The sudden shift in his energy made you nervous. “What? What is it?”

He didn’t answer, but pressed his foot against the gas and the car leapt forward. You twisted in your seat to get a glimpse of what might’ve been after you. Three massive goat-headed figures were charging up the road after you, and they were closing the gap.

“Sweeney, what the fuck are those?” you demanded, unable to keep the tremor from your voice.

He swore. “Bocánaigh. He must’ve sent them, but I don’t know how—“

His words were drowned out by an earsplitting wail that turned your blood to ice. Something landed on the roof of the car with a thud and Sweeney jerked the steering wheel in an effort to throw it off, spewing profanities.

“Bran, the last time I saw one of these was…fuck it was millennia ago. Where did he find them?” Sweeney was talking more to himself than to you, but you still shook your head.

“I don’t know! I’ve never seen—“

Before you could finish your thought, there was a tremendous bang as one of the front tires exploded. The car swerved dangerously, but Sweeney managed to wrestle it to the shoulder of the road, narrowly avoiding colliding with a telephone pole.

Your eyes were squeezed shut and you white-knuckled your seat as you chanted every protection spell you could remember, sifting through the recesses of your mind for even the smallest thing that Circe had taught you that might help. You didn’t know what else to do.

“Is there any iron in here?” Sweeney demanded.

Your chanting stuttered. “Do I have any what?”

“Iron!” he bellowed. “Iron, do you have iron anywhere in this car?”

You blinked. “Horseshoe in the glovebox. Everything that was in the trunk is gone.”

He clenched his jaw. “It’ll have to do. Stay here, stay in this car, and pray to whoever the fuck might be listening that the enchantments Circe put on this thing hold.” He yanked the horseshoe from the glovebox, gripping it like makeshift brass knuckles in his fist, and launched himself from the car with a howl.

You returned to your incantations, doing your best to block the awful sounds. Every time one of Sweeney’s blows landed and the iron made contact with the flesh of the goat-headed men, you could hear their flesh sizzle and their screams of rage. You heard a nasty thwack followed by Sweeney grunting in pain as they head-butted him and did their damnedest to gore him with the curved and cruelly pointed horns that arced out of their heads.

You wracked your brain for something, anything, that you could do aside from sitting on your ass and muttering spells that may or may not have been working.

Sweeney’s head hit the ground with a sickening thud and you swallowed. Fuck it, you thought. If I’m going down, I’m going down swinging. You kicked open the car door, armed only with Sweeney’s pocketknife and a snarl.

You howled at the top of your lungs, slinging every word of Greek protection that Circe had taught you. The beasts turned to you, yellow eyes narrowing. Your heart picked up in your chest but you held fast, reciting the verses over and over, but they had no effect.

You opened your mouth to try again, but what came out was not Greek. It wasn’t any language that you knew and it certainly was not part of the meager arsenal Circe had armed you with, but the words flowed from your lips as though you had known them for years.

"Ceathrar a leag an tsúil, fear agus bean, buachaill agus cailín, triúr gortach, an tAthair, an Mac, agus an Spiorad Naomh!”*

The Bocánaigh hissed and cringed at your words and you moved towards them, more of that familiar-yet-unfamiliar language rolling off your tongue like you had never known another.

You picked up the horseshoe and began smashing your way through the three of them, your words never faltering, never slowing, until eventually the beasts fled.

After a moment, when you were sure the danger had gone, you hauled yourself to Sweeney’s slumped form against the side of the car.

“Hey dummy,” you said, crouching in front of him. “You okay?”

He groaned and rose to his feet, swaying slightly before sitting back down heavily. “I might be concussed.”

You nodded. “Yeah, you took a few slams to the noggin there. You hit the ground pretty hard, too. Other’n that though it doesn’t look like they did too much damage. Looks like your luck is holding.” You flashed him a grin, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Instead, his eyes skated over your face, suspicion knitting his brow.

“Yeah, those things might as well just be specters that pack a punch, can’t do much damage to someone like me.” His voice was distant, he was distracted. “You, though…there’s barely a scratch on ya. And what the hell was that? Where’d you learn Gaeilge like that?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t even know that that’s what that was. I was trying to recite a Greek incantation, but that came out instead. I guess I got lucky.” You paused as you realized what you said. “Hey now, see? I told you you had enough luck for the both of us.”

Sweeney shook his head. “No, that wasn’t luck, love. That was…that was something else. I think we need to have words with Wednesday.”

You hummed. “Fine, but we need to get him his thing first. Get in the passenger seat, princess, I’m driving the rest of the way.”

He made a face but did as you said.

“C’mon, up you get,” you grunted, pulling one of his arms over your shoulders. He groaned as you pulled him to his feet and led him around the car, gingerly lowering him into the passenger seat. “Big baby,” you teased.

He glowered at you, but there was no heat behind it. “I did just get the living daylights beat out of me.”

You laughed. “My knight in shining armor. We’ll stop and get you some Advil on the way, yeah?”

“An’ a bottle of whiskey.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Yessir, a bottle of Jamo should get you right as rain.”

You managed to make it the rest of the way to Knott County without incident, the ride passing much smoother once Sweeney got his Jameson and his painkillers. You sent a silent prayer of thanks to whoever it was that seemed to be looking out for you. Helping the ginger giant out of the car, the two of you made your way into the bar.

Instantly, the hair on the back of your neck stood on end as you were assaulted with the sounds and smells of Jack’s Crocodile Bar. You hated this place. As often as it had been the site of many rowdy nights and raucous fun, it was also the place where you had functionally sold your soul to the Devil. A devil with one eye and no care for anyone but himself.

You had hoped that you would have some time before the old man saw you, desperately needing a pint before whatever was about to happen, but it seemed that your luck did not extend that far. A familiar voice called your name, and it made your skin crawl.

The old man beckoned you to where he sat with a wide grin. Sweeney took the seat on his left and you took the one on his right. Wednesday had already ordered for you, a pint of lager sitting beside his glass of what you could only assume was Jack Daniels. The man had few vices, but apparently Tennessee whiskey was one of them. You eyed the pint glass suspiciously, not trusting anything he put in front of you.

“I see we have one more joining us,” he said jovially, clapping Sweeney on the shoulder. “Mad Sweeney! I wasn’t expecting you for another two days. Oh, this is delightful.” The Irishman grunted and flagged down the bartender and a few moments later a rum and coke was on the bar in front of him. You could see a muscle in his jaw feather as he grit his teeth.

“I’m not particularly in the mood for pleasantries,” you said coldly, reaching into your pack and producing the cloth bundle that held Gungnir. Wednesday’s cold eyes brightened and he reached for it, but you snatched it from his reach. “Payment first.”

He sighed. “Always business, never pleasure. When was the last time you sat and enjoyed a drink with an old friend?”

“We are not friends,” you sneered. “You are my employer and I am your employee. This is a business relationship.”

He pouted and then gave you a knowing look that made you want to poke out his other eye. “We know you’re more than that now, don’t we?”

“They were held by the Jotnar for almost a week,” Sweeney cut in. “Where were you?”

The old man looked at him coldly before producing a fat envelope from inside his jacket. “Payment, as agreed.” He turned to Sweeney. “And you! Let me buy you another round. Consider it thanks for bringing my favorite employee back to me in one piece.” His words oozed sarcasm. It made you itch.

“Weren’t for lack of trying on their part,” Sweeney muttered.

You cocked your head. “Yeah, about that. Some guy’s after your stick.”

Wednesday chuckled. “You’ll have to be more specific than that. There’s plenty of people that would love to get their hands on this.”

“Tall, dark, radiates fear? Ring any bells?” You were losing what little patience you had.

He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“The Dark Man,” Sweeney snapped, clearly no more in the mood for games than you were.

Wednesday’s face remained impassive, but his eyes widened. Just a fraction, but it was enough. It wasn’t fear, but at the very least he was unsettled hearing the name.

“The Black Druid?” His voice was careful, measured. He knew something that he wasn’t telling you.

Something new and different, you thought bitterly, but you nodded. “He stole my car and seemed pretty keen on finding this.”

Wednesday’s face pinched and he sighed. “The Dark Man isn’t after this, I’m afraid. He’s after you.”

Your face paled and Sweeney gripped the glass he was holding so tightly that it shattered.

“What? What in the hell could he want with me?” you asked.

He sipped at his whiskey. “I believe you have something that he wants.”

You stared at him, mouth agape. “What could I possibly, possibly fucking have that he would want? I didn’t even know who he was two days ago!”

The old man didn’t answer, merely gazed at you with an indecipherable expression. “I’d be very careful if I were you,” he said simply, before downing the rest of his drink and taking his leave before you could so much as blink.

The two of you stared after him, dumbfounded. “Great, we’ve got more questions than we had when he got here and he left us with the tab,” you said, scowling at your untouched pint.

Sweeney knocked back a shot. “Wish I could say I was surprised.” He clapped a hand on your shoulder and pulled you from your seat. “C’mon, let’s do what we do best.”

You looked up at him. “Get shithoused?”

He knocked back another shot and slammed the glass against the wooden surface of the bar. “Get shithoused,” he grinned.

That was how, several hours later, you ended up standing on top of the bar, belting “Mr. Brightside” at the top of your lungs. Sweeney watched you with a smile on his face as you led the entire bar through the chorus.

The song finished and you swept your arms wide, a huge grin plastered on your face. You moved to take a bow and pitched too far forward almost immediately. The world fell out from under you as you toppled from the bar, but you never hit the concrete floor. Warm arms encircled you and you found yourself gazing into a familiar pair of green eyes.

“I think it might be time for us to go, love,” Sweeney said.

You looked up at him and giggled. “Awh, we can’t stop now! The party’s just getting started!”

He chuckled and set you on your feet, steadying you as you swayed. “Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we need to bow out. Before you split your skull.”

He pulled you out the door and you pouted. “Can’t believe my king is telling me the party’s over. Y’know, if you’d acted like this before Mag Rath we might not’ve lost.”

At your words, Sweeney’s blood turned to ice. “Wh-what did you just say?”

Something in your eyes had shifted. There was a wild and determined look in them now as you held up your hands. “Look, don’t get pissy with me. All’s I’m saying is if we’d been more careful, Donall wouldn’t’ve—“

“No. What do you mean ‘before Mag Rath’? How would you know anything about that battle?”

You flicked his nose. “I was there, dummy. I led your battalion like you aaaaasked and you still booked it. Not that I blame you, honestly. That shit was horrific.”

Sweeney stared at you like he had never seen you before. A memory flickered at the back of his mind.

“Go!” you bellowed. “Go, I’ll hold them off!” You raised your arms wide and a gust of wind ripped across the field, forcing Donall’s men back.

He blinked, his mind reeling. His lieutenant…

No. That wasn’t you. It couldn’t have been. That was almost two thousand years ago. That wasn’t you.

And yet…and yet. He couldn’t deny the magic that ran through you. The way the Irish incantations had pulled themselves from you like you had always known them. The way you were healing faster than you had any right to.

He grabbed you by the shoulders.

“Who are you?” he demanded. “What are you?”

That wild look in your eyes cleared and you stared at him in confusion. “I’m me? Sweeney, what? You’ve known me for years, you know—“

“Who are you?” he bellowed. “How do you know about Mag Rath?”

You flinched and backed away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, your voice shaking. “I don’t know what Mag Rath is. Sweeney, please, you’re scaring me.”

He stared at you, his expression frantic. “What about what you just said? About us losing and Donall…” he trailed off. You were looking at him with so much fear written on your face it made his chest ache. “Do you remember what you just said to me?” he asked slowly.

“I…I don’t…I fell off the bar and you caught me and then we were outside and then you were yelling at me.” You sounded like you were on the verge of tears. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He gripped his hair in his fists. You didn’t remember. You didn’t remember what you had just said to him, you didn’t remember fighting at his side. And he didn’t remember you. Why didn’t he remember you?

“What did you do before you worked for Wednesday?” he barked.

“I-I dunno. I don’t remember what I did, I don’t remember what my life was.” You were crying now. “Before Wednesday, everything is blank.”

He knew this. You had told him this before, that Wednesday had found you wandering through northern Minnesota, half-frozen and with no memory to speak of. But now…he had to wonder. Did Wednesday happen upon you by chance? Or had he lied? Knowing the old man, the latter was far from impossible or even unlikely.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I think we need to get some answers,” he murmured against your hair. “But first, let’s get you to bed.”

*"Four who set the eye, man and woman, boy and girl, three sick, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit!"

tagged: @imaginethatneathuhpartdos @kind-wolf

#mad sweeney imagine #mad sweeney x reader #mad sweeney reader insert #american gods imagine #american gods x reader #american gods reader insert #bear writes

[ficmesideways]

Request for Anonymous

Gif Source: Wednesday / Sweeney

Imagine being Mr. Wednesday’s demigod daughter and him finding out you’re dating Sweeney

------- Imagine -------

“Your doing what? With who?!” You father all but yelled. Scrath that, he did yell. The walls shaking in response to his surprise and anger. You flinched but did not back down as you watched him fume. “If you let that insignificant little thing who likes to think he is still a god wed you or heavens forbid, knock you up, I’ll”

“What?” You said, your own anger sparking now. “You will do what exactly? Because as I recall you were never around until Shadow showed up and all of a sudden you wanna be a family man. Well fuck that, I will let Sweeny fuck me, wed me, breed me, whatever the hells I want because it is my life, and my relationship you got that!” Your own voice reverberated just as loud as his, but no walls shook in response. Only a nothingness quiet followed as your father looked at you.

“I’ll tell you this only once.” He said looking at you, is voice calm and low as if the screaming match had never happened. “Take all the time you need, but when you come back, when he breaks your heart, dies, or leaves you in a bloody pile; you come back to me for good.”

The words sent a shiver down your spine but you ignored it and turned your back to him to head back to the booth where Sweeney waited. The reassuring smile he sent your way had you feeling lighter already. You took his had when you were close enough and bid him to follow you out.

#american gods imagine #mad sweeney #mr. wednesday #female reader #demigod!reader #my imagines #gifs not mine #mad sweeney imagine

[indefiniteimagines]

Ma’am I currently have covid so I’m chillin my room & was wondering if you could possibly take the time out to write some disrespectful dirty af smut for my mans Pablo? Like make up sex type shet 🥵🥵😏😏

Thank you boo 💝

A/N: Woooooww! This is so overdue! I really hope you're feeling better, Lovey ❤️

WARNINGS: Daddy kink, choking, busty reader, Exhibitionism, semi Public Sex, Language, creampie, squirting

I tried explaining the whole way home that women gawk at him all the time and that I got used to it, but he's having none of it.

This all started at the event we went to tonight. One of his costars was making googly eyes my cleavage the whole night and Pablo took notice. What drove it home was when we pulled into the driveway and our neighbor Joseph made a comment about how we both looked nice, me especially.

Pablo shook his head with his signature smirk and I knew I would have to be doing some groveling tonight.

He walks through the door with a huff, not bothering to hold it open.

"Um, thanks. Dick." I called out to him when I stopped the door from slamming in my face. I saw him swallow some of what was in his glass before speaking for the first time in a long while,

"You love that shit, don't you?"

I stop in my tracks and turn to face him,

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Them! All of them looking at you. One of which lives right next door. You fuck him yet? Is that why he's trying so hard to be my friend?"

"You're drunk and I'm going to bed. I already said I was sorry for my tits being on full display. What do you want me to do? Get a reduction?"

He brought his glass to his lips once more and raised his eyebrows.

"Fuck. You." I turned back around to stomp up the stairs to decompress. I take off my jewelry and shawl before unzipping the gown I'm in.

I walk in the bathroom and turn on the water. I go under the sink grabbing my favorite body wash and take a much needed shower. When I exit I see Pablo undressing at the dresser, facing the mirror.

I know he didn't mean it in the slightest, but I'm still upset about what he suggested about my breast size so I decide to put on a show for someone who enjoys them in all their glory. Still in my towel, I saunter over to my side of the dresser and grab my favorite body lotion.

In that time, I notice Joseph's office light is on and the blinds are cracked. I walk over to our curtains and open them before sitting on the bed.

To anyone else, it looked like I wanted to let the city lights in, but he knew. They both did. Pablo eyed me in the mirror before looking out the window.

Without a single word, he drags me along out to our balcony where the cool air heats up. He bends me over the balcony and slaps my ass. Pablo pulls down my panties and inserts himself into me.

He grabs my neck and forces me to arch my back as he pounds into me.

"What's my name?"

"Dick."

He grabs my hair, “What’s my name, Y/N?”

“Daddy.” I whimper

“I can’t hear you, princess,” my body shudders and my pussy gets wetter as his grip tightens around my neck.

“Daddy!” I scream out.

“That’s right. Who else makes you feel this good? Hmmm? Tell me.”

I move my arm back to try to slow him down a bit, but he moves it away. I stand up straight and Pablo wraps his free arm around my waist pushing his dick further up into me. My eyes roll the back of my head. He moves to my ear and I can hear his heavy breathing,

“Answer me”

“You, Pablo! Fuck I’m gonna cum!" My vision starts to go dark and he chuckles,

“No you’re not, Baby. You’re gonna hold it like a good girl.” I whine at his words and dig my nails into his tensed muscular thigh.

He exits me and jacks off, letting my cum drip over off his tip. His head falls back at the sensation before making his next command,

“On the chair ass up” I go over to the chair and place my hands on the arm rests. He smacks my ass and I moan. My legs shake as I bite my lip. I feel Pablo enter me again this time a little slower. Making me feel the length of his pulsating cock.

He gives that first good thrust, having my ass bounce back on him which only prompts him to smack it more.

“Daddy that feels so good” I stand on my tippy toes and arch my back further down.

“Bounce on me baby” I begin meeting his thrusts. He slips out of me, but immediately puts it back in getting my closer to my orgasm.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he plays with my clit making me shake.

“Can I please cum daddy please.”

“Hold it” he demands. He pounds harder and my eyesight gets weaker.

“Ugh daddy please” my body rattles and Pablo cums balls deep in me. I can’t hold it anymore and I squirt over our feet, inevitably pushing him out. I scream out his name when he flicks his still hard cock over my soaking clit, dragging out the streams of ecstasy. I see Joseph's lights go off, but I don't care. I feel lips press to my shoulder blade with a slight bite and chuckle. Pablo knows he won.

“That’s it, baby. I want it all over me," he smirks before sinking to his knees and lapping me up with licks and slurps. He stands back up and spins me around to make me taste myself. To my surprise, he spits the mixture of our cum into my mouth with the darkest eyes I've seen.

My knees go weak and I moan into his mouth. His hand wraps around my throat one more time,

“You’re mine don’t forget that," he says. Leaving me naked and spent out in the crisp Summer night.

#pablo schreiber smut #pablo schreiber imagine #pablo schreiber #halo #master chief #american gods #mad sweeney

[theywontletmebeprincipal]

hey bud are you alright I couldn’t help but notice your theme song has incorporated the madness motif lately

#sanders bullshit #this is about sweeney todd but like. fuck. wish I had a madness motif #imagine getting real pissed n some guy on melodica just starts fuckin shredding #musical theatre

[writingstoraes]

off cam 🎥

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!actress!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: decided to use sydney sweeney as the faceclaim as well as her new movie w glen powell! (makes my job easier the pics and clips are literally everywhere)

summary: your new rom-com is gaining traction and fans can't help but notice your insane chemistry with your co-star. luckily, charles does not mind.

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, kendalljenner, and 794,294 others

yourusername The making of this movie has entirely been overwhelmingly euphoric for me. It is with great pleasure to say that Anyone But You is now out in theaters 🖤 All this would not be possible without my amazing co-star glenpowell, writers, producers, fellow actors, and everyone who helped make this script a reality.

Go get your tickets! 😘

charles_leclerc Proud of you beyond words, my world star ❤️

ynfilms everyone stand back her real man is here

jacobelordi Loved the movie!

taylorswift Had the best time recording the soundtrack 🙌

zendaya SOOO AMAZING

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, scuderiaferrari, and 1,239,393 others

charles_leclerc Truly in awe of how amazing you are. Never going to love anyone else as much as I love you. Excited to see you conquer the world when you do ❤️

Anyone But You out now in theaters!

tagged: yourusername

carlossainz55 Lol you saw the tweets and ran to Instagram

yourusername I was literally beside him while he was tweeting smh monacokingz i live for this banter i really do

pierregasly Threatened now, are we? 🤔

charles_leclerc Please go log off

danielricciardo Oh Silvia is going to have a field day I just know

yourusername

liked by glenpowell, filmlovers, popbase, and 1,204,583 others

yourusername Seems I have thanked everyone except for the person I am most thankful for. Charles has spent so many days on set with me - waiting till we finish filming, bringing nearly hundreds of cups of coffee for everyone working, and reading lines with me. He was just as ecstatic about this project as I am and he has been insanely supportive 🤍

Don't have eyes for anyone but you, charles_leclerc ;)

PS. He really doesn't mind all of the tweets, he's laughing beside me right now.

charles_leclerc Why are you ratting me out I wanted them to believe I was mad

yourusername Sorry, should I delete this? charles_leclerc No way you basically declared your undying love for me

arthurleclerc Loved the movie, Y/N! 🙌

-----------

notes: this took longer than i expected lol i hope you guys liked it! thank you so much for reading <3

tagging: @slytherheign, @honethatty12, @siovhanroy, @fdl305, @iloveyou3000morgan, @cxcewg, @sassyheroneckgiant, @ang3licho3, @pitlanebabe, @riverdalexvixens, @msliz, @boherahpsody @storminacloud @leclercdream (if anyone else wants to be a part of my taglist or if i forgot anyone that asked to be tagged, pls lmk by replying or sending me a message hehe)

#writtenbyrae #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc social media au #charles leclerc ig imagine #charles leclerc instagram imagine #charles leclerc smau #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 instagram imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 ig imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 instagram imagine #f1 social media au

[annymation]

The voices in my Wish Rewrite

I haven’t talked much about it, but in my Wish rewrite some characters would be recasted. I wanted to make this post just to show which actors I’d replace… And it’s pretty much everyone except Magnifico, cause ya know, Chris Pine is Magnifico, and Magnifico is Chris Pine, it’s just how it is.

So let’s get this started!

Asha- Denée Benton

Im absolutely OBSESSED with this woman’s voice, she sounds like an angel and carries so much personality in her performance, she sounds pure, youthful, hopeful but also strong, everything I imagine Asha as. THIS is what I imagine the 100th anniversary Disney princess sounding like. Not that I didn’t like Ariana DeBose’s singing tho, but I just love Denee Benton more, and hey, it’s my rewrite, so I get to imagine Asha’s voice how I please. Also I can totally see Asha and Aster singing this song.

Aster- Jordan Fisher

Oooooh this man, I love him so much. His voice has the perfect energy for Aster, sounding youthful and melodic like a prince, it had to be a literally other worldly voice, and I think Jordan’s voice is PRETTY DANG other worldly, like, this example I found on Spotify doesn’t even do him justice, go listen to his other singing chops on YouTube.

If you look up Jordan Fisher you’ll see the guy is DEEPLY connected with Disney in his career, from singing the song “Happily Ever After” 6 years ago, which is the theme song for the Magic Kingdom, to now being the main singer of 4-town in the movie Turning Red. And of course this one time he made a cover of “You’re Welcome”, the guy just lives and breaths Disney so WHY NOT have him as a wishing star? It just makes sense. But besides working with Disney he also has experience in a musicals such as Hamilton, Dear Evan Hansen, Sweeney Todd and more recently he became the new Orpheus in Hadestown… And by god I need a good quality audio of him singing “Wait For Me” more than I need air because that song fits Aster’s character SO WELL.

Magnifico- Chris Pine

Yeah no surprises here, you can’t have Magnifico without Chris Pine… But HIS SINGING VOICE IN THIS SONG THOUGH??? ITS SO GOOD!!! I listened to “Any Moment” ONCE and now I constantly go back to listen to it over and over and imagine young Magnus and Amaya meeting in the woods. I still haven’t posted about Amaya’s backstory BECAUSE IM TOO LAZY TO FINISH THE DRAFT I HAVE EXPLAINING IT- But let me just say her hesitating to start a relationship with him is VERY accurate to her character. And Magnus being like “May I kiss you” out of nowhere because he: 1- Sees himself as irresistible so he thinks she’d fall for him with just that and 2- he had 0 social skills before he met Amaya.

And then there’s the line “Life is often so unpleasant, you must know that as a peasant” ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! This is LITERALLY something my Magnifico would say, I’m so freakin lucky!

My point is, my rewrite’s Magnifico sounds like THIS when he sings, with a deep, smooth and honeyed voice that makes you want to trust him… Take that high pitched voice Chris Pine did in “This Is The Thanks I Get” and throw it out the window. Disney wasted the man’s talent. I’m so mad.

Amaya- Emily Blunt

Do you guys see my vision? Do I even have to say anything? Like really, go watch a scene of the Mary Poppins remake, any scene with her at all, that woman has a voice that DEMANDS respect, while also being motherly, it’s practically perfect in every way. I’m using “Open Up Your Eyes” here as an example though because… Well, it fits her backstory… Ya know, the backstory I’m stalling to talk about 👉👈… But it also just simply fits her personality in general!

And no disrespect for her voice in the movie, Angelique Cabral… BUT ITS EMILY BLUNT AS AN EVIL QUEEN!!! Come ooooon! It’s just meant to be!!!

Also side note, since we’re talking about Queen Amable, THIS design that came from an deleted scene is how I’ve imagined her the whole time:

Like, I could not STAND her hairstyle in the movie, it simply didn’t fit my vision for her character, see, Amaya is sophisticated but she’s also… Practical and likes to feel comfortable, hence why in my rewrite her dress has no sleeves, she values her own comfort more than conforming to the social norms… AND THAT HAIR LOOKING LIKE HEADPHONES WITH THAT CROWN THAT MADE HER FOREHEAD LOOK LIKE A SQUARE DROVE ME NUTS!

So yeah, this is our Queen Amable, voiced by Emily Blunt, with a British accent, in all her glory, we’re moving on.

Valentino- Gregory Mann

This is just a bonus mention, since Valentino doesn’t even sing in my rewrite, he just speaks in like 3 scenes… And you guys have only seen one of them so far. But either way, let it be known he sounds like Gregory Mann, because Gregory Mann sounds adorable. That is all.

Thank You For Reading!

#Spotify #disney wish #wish rewrite #wish #wish 2023 #wish star #wish disney #disney #wish movie #wish reimagined #wish asha #kingdom of wishes

[dw-writes]

Eyes On You - Mad Sweeney x Reader

Summary: Sweeney couldn't sleep, and desperately had something to say while he finally had a chance to say it. Genre: Gen. Fic; Angst?; Prompt Request A/N: This is the answer to the poll prompt that I gave you all forever ago, with the prompt being "I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you". Now, this IS part of The Invasion canon, somewhere before the Rock when you're traveling. I'll put up the links to The Invasion later, but for now, please enjoy :) Let me know what you think

Chapters: Chapter One || Chapter Two || Chapter Three || Chapter Four  || Chapter Five || Chapter Six || Chapter Seven || Chapter Eight || Chapter Nine || Chapter Ten || Chapter Eleven || Chapter Twelve || Chapter Thirteen || Chapter Fourteen || Chapter Fourteen-ish || Chapter Fifteen || Chapter Sixteen || Chapter Seventeen || Chapter Eighteen || Chapter Nineteen || Chapter Twenty || Chapter Twenty-One || Chapter Twenty-Two Requests: Mad Sweeney and The Holidays || The Invasion and the Stressful Blows One Shots: The Invasion and That One Thankful Holiday || The Invasion and the Weight of Change || Eyes On You

It was late. Sweeney knew he should’ve been asleep, especially when he looked at the bright red numbers on the digital clock that read 3:45 AM. He looked away from them, at your form on the other side of the tiny motel bed, curled up with clean sheets and the slightly dingy comforter thrown over your form.

He’d been having trouble sleeping for the past few days, chalking it up initially to the travel you and him had been doing – back to back motels, back to back gods with back to back errands, back to back buses. He knew that his time with you was coming to end, he could feel it in his bones, but he didn’t want to admit it. With the date of the Rock getting closer and closer, your job with Wednesday was getting closer to ending.

He rolled onto his shoulder, watching your back as it rose and fell with your deep breaths.

“Yer gonna be leavin’ soon,” he whispered into the dark night of the room. He held his breath as soon as the words left his mouth, waiting for you to wake up. The traveling must have been too much for you, too, however, as you didn’t even stir. Sweeney licked his lips. He was too tired to think about what he was saying, too tired to stop himself as he yawned and let the words tumble out of his exhausted mouth.

“Yer gonna be leavin’, and yer gonna be leavin’ me,” he continued, “Goin’ who knows where.” He snorted faintly, sniffed, shifted on his squashed and folded pillow. “Without me,” he muttered. He eyed your back as you curled up tighter under the blankets.

“Dunno what ‘m gonna do,” he sighed, “Shit luck without you, ‘s what I’d probably say to yer face. Can’t say the rest of it.” Sweeney wanted to stop talking, needed to, but the words burned as they clawed their way up his throat from his chest. “Fuck, I need you t’ stay,” he rasped, blinking hard, shoving his face into the scratchy pillowcase.

“Loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you,” he mumbled into the pillow, turning his head to watch you again, “Pretty sure of it now. Can’t imagine what this bullshit’s gonna be like when y’ wise up and fuckin’ leave this shit behind.” The confession felt wrong, but it wasn’t a lie – he couldn’t even lie to himself, no matter how much he wanted to.

“First moment,” he muttered, like he couldn’t believe it, “Fuck, that’s it. Saw you on the fuckin’ couch and just knew everything was different.” He sighed, scratched his jaw, and settled back into the thin sheet you shared. “Fuckin’ Rose would say it was some stupid romantic shit, but we both know it wasn’t. Almost called the cops on me that day, you did, but I think I woulda let you, because I just couldn’t…” His thought trailed off as you rolled onto your back, shifting under the blanket towards the warmth in the bed. He swallowed the rest of the words, panic lancing through his chest, and waited until you were settled again.

“Couldn’t say no to yer face,” he whispered.

He sat up carefully, making sure you were neatly tucked into the bed, and grabbed his clothes from where he’d thrown them onto the chair. Everything he said choked him, settled back into his throat and made it hard to breathe.

He carefully opened the door and stepped out into the cold, humid air outside, then shut it behind him.

You found him sitting on the curb outside in the morning when you opened the door, still dressed in your pajamas and half asleep. “The fuck are you doin’ out here?’ you mumbled.

Sweeney blew out a thin string of smoke into the early morning air. “Waitin’ fer you,” he grunted. He stood. “You hungry? ‘m starvin’.”

You squinted at him and struggled to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Sitting out here like a weirdo,” he heard you grumble as you turned around, “Thought someone had kidnapped you or something.”

He snorted, watching the door shut behind you as you shuffled in to get ready, then sighed to himself.

~*~ Thanks for Reading~*~ ~*~Tag List~*~ @hannon-say @divadinag @fear-less-write-more (i cant tag you) @superflannel @selenaofthemoon (i cant tag you) @jinxy-toast @teller258316 @guiltgoldglory @the-bluest-hour @irishgodfucker (i cant tag you) @karmabites2313 @hiddlebatchedloki (i cant tag you) @siedrkona1991 @hstott @lakeli @nemophilistvampyr @massivecolorspygiant @leximus98​ @weirdo125 (i cant tag you) @fleeingdawn-blog1​ @madamecoyote​ @postgradandstupid​ @hopplessdreamer​ @omnisexualvampire​ @hannon-say​ @ceyruh​ @animatenebrae​ @ultrablackwidower​ @callmemaeverick​ @loisbaggings​ @fictional-hooman (i cant tag you) @babypink224221​ @quietwitchsworld

#american gods #the invasion series #mad sweeney #mad sweeney x reader #pablo schreiber

[someroach]

How I think the slashers would react to y/n having a pet kitten

warnings: this is trash :,( lol also I meant to put this in alphabetical order, but I ended up writing Carrie's first

Carrie

she's in love with it. It's so fluffy and cute.

sometimes at night you'll look over and see her sitting at the edge of the bed holding and petting the little kitty

your kitten? oh no no no its her cat now.

GIVE HER A CAT, SHE DESERVES IT

she personally doesn't have a lot of experience with pets, but she knows what she's doing <3

she's really good with cats because of all the strays she used to see around the neighborhood. She loves them too.

Billy Lenz

No warnings your cat is just GONE. it belongs with him in the attic now. deal with it.

Okay but like seriously tho- he saw you SMEXY. then he saw your cat. "CLAUDIE, YOU HAVE A FRIEND NOW YAY" ^^

you can't stay mad at him; his cuteness is too much.

he absolutely will meow back at it

he's pretty good at taking care of it so surprisingly you could trust him to be alone with another living creature for once

Bo Sinclair

...

at first, he seems to not even acknowledge it, it'll meow at him, and he'll just be like 'oh yeah that exists'

he enjoys how well it gets along with the dog though, he thinks its sweet, but will he admit it? HAH. No.

occasionally you and Vincent will look at each other silently commenting on the fact that Bo is petting it while it's sleeping in his lap. Cute.

He isn't the greatest at giving it attention usually but he's okay with cats so idk

Brahms Heelshire

it takes a long time for him to get used to sharing your love

eventually he will warm up to it

sometimes though you'll worry that your little kitty got out somehow only to realize that Brahms was having a tea party with the cat and his doll in his room...come to think of it, he does this a lot... he's in love with it.

as cute as the tea parties are though, I wouldn't trust him alone with it, but that's just me.

Bubba Sawyer

he often times will hold it and coo at it.

he gets really sad if he accidentally scares the poor thing

he might forget how much stronger he is than it so keep an eye out please.

fun fact: you once walked in on him having a full-on conversation with it.

He's semi good with it, but he's trying.

Jason Voorhees

he's fairly similar to bubba in the way that he forgets how much stronger he is than it and might be too rough with it so please monitor him

he loves it though, so does his mom

He helps take care of it to.

overall, he's pretty good with it

Lester Sinclair

first thing I can imagine is him driving the truck with the cat in the passenger's seat...yeah

like Bo he enjoys the fact that it gets along with the dog

and he will help feed it for sure

he'll love it even more if the cat acts silly.

he does really good with cats and animals in general

Martin Mathias

he thinks the cat won't like him

he helps take care of it

tbh it will meow at him, and he'll very hesitantly pet it.

somebody needs to tell him the cat doesn't hate him so he will stop trying to stay out of its way

eventually he warms up to it and it snuggles up to him in bed

all in all, he is okay with it

Michael Myers

he actually likes it? yeah it stays out of his way

sometimes if he's in a really good mood, he'll pet it. crazy right?

other than that, he'll completely ignore its existence

he isn't the greatest with it let's be honest, but at least he didn't kill and eat it okay.

Sweeney Todd

it's a love hate relationship because he loves it, but it falls asleep in his lap, so he'll be late for...work because like hell is he gonna wake up the sleeping kitten

it's his kid now bitch. he takes care of it.

Vincent Sinclair

he takes the kitty sometimes so he can use it for reference on his sculptures

he loves it as much as you do

he knows you adore your cat, so he makes little sculptures of it for you

he pets it so carefully like it'll break any second

praises you and your cat

he loves the cat, and the cat loves him

#slasher x reader #billy lenz #bo sinclair #brahms heelshire #bubba sawyer #carrie white #jason voorhees #lester sinclair #martin mathias #michael myers #sweeney todd #vincent sinclair #slashers #sorry i'm a massive cat person okay-

[zero-way-out]

I was just thinking about my two favorite medias about cannabalism, Sweeney Todd and Hannibal and thinking about how a sweeney todd au hannigram could work:

The obvious thought would be Hannibal as Sweeney and Will as Mrs.Lovett but on second thought the reverse is actually so perfect.

Sweeney is mad, his killing is spurred by rage, vengence, and nihilism, Mrs.Lovett on the other hand is cool, collected and calculating. She is there to bring Sweeney back from the brink with ideas of patience. Also shes the one who actually thinks of cannabalism as a solution. Its Mrs.Lovetts obsessive love for Sweeney and her manipulation to that end that brings her own doom.

Its actually so perfect, Will driven mad by his unlawful jailing is torn away from his young family, his wife, presumed dead. He makes his way back to London only to find a quite friendly baker, Mr.Lecter, underneath his shop. A baker who quite easily helps him dispose of his first kill into his pies.

Mrs.Lovett's whole arc is so on-brand for Hannibal. Obsessively in love with Will, encouraging his murders, manipulating him to get him all to himself. What i wouldn't give to see Hannibal sing "By the Sea" Hannibal absolutely giggling and kicking his feet imagining him and Will eloping to a happy life by the sea while Will begrudgingly lets him continue only because hes a necessity to get away with his murders.

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal au #sweeney todd #hannigram

[bearwriting]

Dart

Start Here Previous Chapter

Summary: Bruised and bloodied, you end up with the last person you thought you'd turn to, and you've just made a new friend.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Cursing

A/N: After this, chapters are gonna start being a little longer! The People Have Spoken.

Next Chapter

“Fine. If the old man tries to string me up for it, I’m throwing you under the bus,” he said.

You cocked your head to the side and looked at him for a moment. He wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were on the road, but the tips of his ears had the barest hint of a blush.

“No, you’re not,” you said finally. “You won’t do that.”

His eyes stayed on the road. “Are you so sure of that?”

You turned your gaze to the road in front of you. “Your ears go pink when you lie.”

Neither of you spoke much on the drive to where your car supposedly was. You were too busy willing your car to be where the spell said it was and Sweeney was a million miles away. What exactly he was thinking about, you could never be sure.

After about an hour, you drove past the eighth Circle K you’d seen.

“Wait, go back!” you shrieked, slapping your hands down on the dashboard. “That was it!”

The car jolted as Sweeney slammed on the brakes. “What did I say about yelling like that when I’m driving? Anyway, how d’ye know it’s the right one?”

You pointed at the odometer. It was thirty miles higher than it had been forty-five minutes ago.

“Again,” he said in a tone that indicated he was really starting to get fed up with you, “how do you know it’s the right one?”

“Does it fucking matter? It’s a Circle K that’s thirty miles from where we were, we won’t die if we check it out and it’s not there.”

“Famous last words,” the Irishman muttered, but still he pulled a u-turn and guided the little Corolla towards the parking lot.

“Worst case scenario, she’s not here. We can still get snacks and stuff,” you said.

“Worst case scenario is that this is a trap somehow and we’re about to get killed.”

You rolled your eyes. “Always a pessimist.”

As Sweeney pulled the car up next to one of the gas pumps, you saw it. You knew that paint job and you knew that slight ding in the front bumper (if Sweeney had just listened to you, you wouldn’t have had to hit him with your car). The spell was right and the vision had been correct.

You let out a whoop and made to lunge out of the car, but Sweeney wrapped a hand around your bicep, arresting your movement.

“What the fuck?” you snapped. “Can we just—“

Something in his face made you fall short.

“What’s wrong?” you asked quietly, following his line of vision.

The guy that was in possession of your car was leaning against the side of it, a lit cigarette in his mouth and a wide brimmed hat was sitting at an angle on his head. He wore a long dark trench coat and he looked like he was waiting for someone.

“Why is he here?” Sweeney asked lowly, more to himself than you.

“Who is he?” you asked.

Sweeney shook his head. “Someone you don’t want to fuck with.”

You snorted. “Unless you can give me something more concrete to work with, I’m going to get my car back.”

Sweeney said nothing, but you felt his eyes on your back as you walked towards the man leaning against your car.

“Hey!” you said brightly as you approached him. “I think you might have my car? It got stolen a few days ago.”

The man looked up at you and you felt your stomach twist uncomfortably. His eyes were black pools that reflected no light and his lips twisted into an unpleasant smile. You instinctively took a step back as the cold fingers of fear began to wind their way through your chest.

“Yes, I believe I do. You’re one of Mr. Wednesday’s little errand boys aren’t you?” His accent was similar to Sweeney’s, except he formed his vowels a little differently.

You immediately played dumb. “I don’t know any Mr. Wednesday, man. I’ll pay you, but can I please have my car? It’s sentimental.”

“Interesting. You say you do not know any Mr. Wednesday, but I bought this car from the frost giants. What would they be doing with a ride like this?” His voice felt oily, like you could feel it dripping down your spine, and it made your shoulders tense. Your heart began to pick up as though you were a rabbit poised to run.

You feigned ignorance. “Frost giants?”

He nodded. “Nasty lot. Heard they cut you up something fierce,” he said, eyeing the bandage on your forehead and your blackened eye.

You edged backward. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shrugged and you tried not to let your growing uneasiness show. You didn’t like this guy’s energy and you were starting to wish that you’d listened to Sweeney.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The weird man in possession of your car took a step towards you and you took another step back, but this time you bumped into the massive, solid form of Mad Sweeney. You instantly felt the nervous tension in your chest lessen.

“I think you’d better hand over those keys,” he said coolly.

The stranger’s lip twitched. “Ah, Mad Sweeney,” he said calmly, his eyes never leaving yours. You couldn’t seem to look away. You were rooted to the spot as terror squeezed your lungs. “You know, your story really isn’t holding water. Especially now that…this has shown up with you. Not to mention that bandage on your face. How’d that happen?”

You said nothing and Sweeney twitched slightly so that his body was now halfway in front of you. It wasn’t a direct threat, but it was clear that he was putting himself between you and the man.

“I said, hand over the keys.” His voice was tight with something you’d never heard in him before. Fear? No, but it was close.

The man pouted. “This one never wants to have any fun.” He turned to you. “Listen taibhseach.* You may have your car, but I want something in return.”

You looked at him warily. You had no idea who this man was, but you’d been in this game long enough to know not to make deals if you didn’t have to.

He took your silence as a cue to continue. “I will return your keys in exchange for the item you were sent to fetch for Grimnir.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Sweeney cut you off. “Counteroffer,” he said, “you give us the keys and we don’t give you shit. This was their car to begin with. Give us the keys and I won’t make a scene.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Again, no fun. Here,” he produced your keychain from thin air. He dropped it into your outstretched hand and leaned in to whisper into your ear. “You will be hearing from me soon. And your attack dog won’t be around to protect you.”

You blinked and he was gone.

You slid into the driver’s seat of your car and inhaled as you ran your hands over the steering wheel. You wanted to revel in the feeling of having her back, but the feeling of uneasiness and fear that that man had left in his wake was weighing on you.

You turned to Sweeney, an obvious question on the tip of your tongue, but he held up a hand.

“Just drive. We should’ve left as soon as we saw him.” His voice was tight and the rattled look on his face wasn’t doing anything to assuage your fear.

After about an hour or two, your eyes began to get heavy and you started looking for motel signs.

“Pull over, switch with me,” Sweeney said. His voice sounded almost unbearably loud after riding in silence.

“Sweeney, can we please just find a motel? I’m exhausted, I have to sleep.”

His heart twinged at the tiredness in your voice. He knew that you needed rest, and badly, but he wanted to put that Circle K as far in the rearview as possible.

“I know you’re tired darlin’, but we have to keep going at least for another few hours.”

You sighed, but didn’t fight him on it. He chewed his bottom lip. You always complained or argued with him over this sort of thing, so the fact that you gave in so quickly gave away how spent you really were.

You pulled over onto the shoulder and swapped with Sweeney. As you settled into your seats, he looked around the interior of the car.

“You said this was warded?”

You nodded. “Against basically everything.”

He blew a puff of air out of his nose. “Good. It’ll make it harder for that cunt to find us.”

“Who was he?” you asked as he pulled back onto the freeway.

“Someone very powerful. And, like I said, someone you don’t want to fuck with. He gave up your keys too easily, I don’t like it.”

You shrugged. “Fine. Keep your secrets. I’m gonna try to get some sleep, but wake me up when we get to a motel.”

You balled up your sweatshirt between your head and the car window and fell asleep almost immediately.

Sweeney took that opportunity to scan your sleeping face, the fear from earlier a stone in his stomach. Why was Fear Doirich looking for you? He had said he wanted whatever it was that you had been sent to retrieve for Wednesday, but that was a lie. At least, it was a partial one. The Dark Man was plotting something, Sweeney just knew it, and it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Sweeney knew he couldn’t do anything about it now, but he could at the very least do his damndest to make sure that you were protected.

*taibhseach: Gorgeous

tagged: @imaginethatneathuhpartdos @kind-wolf

#mad sweeney imagine #mad sweeney x reader #mad sweeney reader insert #american gods imagine #american gods x reader #american gods reader insert #bear writes

[ficmesideways]

Request for Anonymous Gif Source: Fields / Sweeney

Imagine being a demigod and dating Mad Sweeney

------- Imagine -------

Every god and the like knew of him. The big, bad, Mad Sweeney. A strong manic but almost forgotten god that served at the whims of Wednesday. You knew better though. Sure, as a demigod you didn’t have the years or even the powers some of the others of your ilk did; but what you did have was knowledge. The knowledge of a man the world had forgotten but still took the time to take you to lavender fields. Who looked at you like he wanted to kiss you, kill you, eat you, and love you all in one expression. A man who although served a master still had honor and love in his heart. Yes, others had power; but that power without the love of the man that you knew could not compare.

#my imagines #gifs not mine #female reader #american gods imagine #mad sweeney imagine

[indefiniteimagines]

Ride || Pablo Schreiber Imagine

WARNINGS: language

"I'll be right there," Pablo sighed as he hung up the phone and got off the couch. He grabbed his keys and headed for the restaurant on the other side of town.

He reached the parking lot and handed me the extra helmet. I used his shoulders to steady myself as I got on the back of the bike. I hung on and he peeled out of the lot and back to his house. On the way, my night replayed over and over again in my head. I hugged him tighter and put my face into his back while i let a few tears escape. I looked to my left and saw the cityscape below the mountain. We made a left instead of a right and cruised down the road. He pulled into his driveway and turned off the motorcycle.

"Why are we here?" I asked as I got off the back.

"It's closer and it's late togo all the way to your place. I can get you an Uber if you want." I shook my head. His voice was kind of monotone, like he had something to say. Pablo didn't even wait for me before stalking to the front door to unlock it. He walked in and headed straight for his bar. I closed and locked the door before meeting him in the other room.

"You're mad at me, aren't you."

He downed the rest of his drink before placing the glass back in the counter, "I'm not thrilled with you, no."

"How can you be like that right now? I'm the one who got stood up in the middle of nowhere."

"And that's why. I told you that you didn't know that prick. To not put all your eggs in one basket and look where you are."

"Fuck you. Now you're just being mean. I just wanted a night with him. He's so sweet and I just don't know what happened."

"No. He was sweet when you met him 5 years ago. People change everyday."

"Yeah that's evident."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I was expecting some kind of sympathy from you. You know, considering how fucking stupid I looked out there. But no. You have to tell me how right you are and how wrong I am. Basically driving it home that I am fucking stupid. So thanks a lot." I turned to leave to the guest room when I heard him pouring another drink. I slammed the door and flopped onto the bed, tears streaming down my face once more.

I woke up the next morning with a blanket covering me and noise coming from the floor. I slowly sit up and look down to see Pablo there with his own blanket and pillow, snoring softly. I reach for my phone but drop it against the nightstand, making a loud thud. Pablo stirred and opened his eyes with a sigh.

"Morning."

"Hi. What are you doing?"

He sat up and slid his hands over his face and back through his bed head. He rested his arms on his legs and looked at me, "I didn't think you should wake up alone. Look, I'm sorry for making you feel stupid because you're not. I was pissed at that prick for getting you all excited and then not showing. I hate that I was right. You deserve someone who would travel the world to spend one hour with you. And I'm sorry he wasn't that. I really am."

I looked down at him and crawled down to the floor. I wrapped my hands around his neck and started to cry a little bit.

"Hey, hey, hey. What's that for? I was trying to make you feel better," he said with concern in his voice. I unburied my face and kissed him on the cheek,

"They're happy tears. Thank you for being my best friend."

"I love you, kid."

"I love you too."

#pablo schreiber drabble #pablo schreiber imagine #pablo schreiber #pablo schreiber smut #halo #american gods #mad sweeney #master chief

[ramblingroommate]

My Dracula Daily Fan Cast

Am I extremely late to this whole thing? Yes. Do I care? Nope! Let’s go :)

Dracula

Shaun Toub: for the longest time I actually had Claes Bang (who has played Dracula before!) in this role, but after re-reading Dracula’s description for the twentieth time I couldn’t get Shaun’s face out of my head. Neither actor is English (not a coincidence) but while Claes is danish, Shaun is an iranian-born american actor. We don’t really know Dracula’s origins so I thinks it’s fine. Shaun is also almost ten years older than Claes which is great for the first part of the story and less so for the second half, but I think he could still play it off really well with the right make up (or CGI).

Jonathan Harker

George Mackay: he’s a British actor most people know for his role in the war movie 1917. I chose him because he has the general look I want for Jonathan (generic white boy my beloved) and I think he could bring justice to our dear friend, showing the hardships of the character really well instead of making him dull just to push a dracmina romance.

Mina Murray

Olivia Cooke: she’s an English actress mostly known for her roles in ready player one and house of the dragon. I mostly chose her because of her looks (tho I imagine Mina with black hair) but I know she was in her fair share of horror movies and even in a historical drama - both genres that mesh really well with Dracula.

Lucy Westenra

Sydney Sweeney: it was really hard choosing an actress for Lucy! Mina is always going on about how pretty she is so I wanted that but I also wanted PAIN. Sydney acted in Euphoria where she interpreted the character of Cassie who, and I quote, “fell in love with every guy she ever dated. Whether they were smart or stupid or sweet or cruel, it didn't matter. She didn't like to be alone”. I think that’s suuuuch an interesting acting experience for someone who has to play Lucy. The actress is four or five years younger than the other actors but Lucy is canonically 19 years old so I think that’s fine.

Arthur Holmwood

Simon Castle: Arthur was THE HARDEST to cast for me, I don't know why. I wanted a young noodle-ly boy with a sweet face but also a bit of a trust fund kid kind of vibe and I guess it was a hard balance to strike.

Quincey Morris

Dacre Montgomery: do I even have to say anything? Just look at the pictures… perfect actor for a perfect himbo.

Jack Seward

Charlie Rowe: I decided on this actor after seeing him in Rocketman; at first he seems like a big shot producer but then the real guy shows up and makes fun of him (that whole thing was too Jack and Van Helsing for me to ignore). I couldn’t decide between clean shaven and slight stubble so I put both.

Abraham Van Helsing

Mads Mikkelsen: I don't know yall. I just really like Mads okay?

#dracula daily #dracula #fan cast

[random-imagines-blog]

TV Show Masterlist

In an attempt to organize the blog and keep everything in order, masterlists are being made to join together into a masterlist of masterlists to make it easier for those on mobile. Thanks for being patient!

⭐contains smut

American Gods

Oneshots:

Disarm (Shadow Moon Sibling!Reader)

Still a Stranger (Shadow Moon)

A Visit to the World (Mr World)

All is Fair (Mr World)

Understand (Mr Wednesday)

King of the Wasteland (Tech-Boy)

They Speak the Language (Tech-Boy)

Stunner (Bilquis) ⭐

Imagines

Imagine Shadow Moon finding out that you are his true soulmate.

Imagine Shadow Moon threatening Mr Wednesday over you.

Imagine telling Shadow Moon you’re pregnant with his child.

Imagine being Shadow Moon’s sister, and him taking care of you while you’re sick.

Imagine being Demeter’s daughter, and Shadow Moon falling in love with you.

Imagine making fun of Shadow’s new look.

Imagine getting married to Shadow Moon.

Imagine making fun of Shadow Moon for his crush on Ostara.

Imagine Shadow Moon having a crush on you.

Imagine telling Shadow about your own big projects.

Imagine being Shadow Moon’s younger sibling, and he’s terribly overprotective.

Imagine being the reason Shadow Moon is brave throughout all the madness.

Imagine only joining the war for the chance to get close to Shadow.

Imagine impressing Mr. World

Imagine Mr Wednesday finding out you have feelings for him. 

Imagine flirting with Mr. Wednesday.

Imagine Mr Wednesday holding you during a panic attack.

Imagine being Mr. Wednesday’s child and him singing you a lullaby.

Imagine Odin finding you injured on the battlefield.

Imagine reuniting with your father, Mr Wednesday, in Lakeside.

Imagine Mr Wednesday being intrigued by you at House on the Rock.

Imagine being Wednesday’s favorite daughter.

Imagine Mr. Wednesday making you feel better after being rejected by Shadow.

Imagine Wednesday comforting you after a terrible, horrible, no-good very bad day.

Imagine Wednesday trying to seduce you into the war.

Imagine Mr. Wednesday appreciating that you are on his side.

Imagine Mr Wednesday sensing a quiet strength in you.

Imagine Mr Wednesday realizing how attached to you, a human, he is after an argument.

Imagine  Mr. Wednesday trying to charm you into being on his side.  

Imagine Anansi making you a suit.

Imagine Anansi coming to you in times of trouble.

Imagine being a Muse and catching Anansi’s eye.

Imagine sharing a home and bed with Laura Moon.

Imagine dating one of Shadow’s friends and Laura being jealous.

Imagine being a cook in the prison and you start feeling attraction to Low-Key.

Imagine being Low-Key Lyesmith’s wife but people just don’t understand it.

Imagine listening to Low-Key Lyesmith’s stories to help you sleep.

Imagine making a deal with Mad Sweeney where he cures your loved one and in return, you must marry him.

Imagine Mad Sweeney collecting on your debt.

Imagine breaking Tech-Boy out of New Gods’ Headquarters. 

Imagine Tech-Boy trying to protect you from his world.

Imagine Tech-Boy using your hugs as stress relief.

Imagine bear-hugging Tech-Boy, after thinking he might have been replaced.

Imagine forcing Tech-Boy to look at the real world once in a while.

Imagine punching Tech-Boy in the face when he makes too make snide comments.

Imagine Mr Ibis only listening to your songs while he works.

Imagine being Mr. Ibis’s wife and intimidating the other Gods.

Imagine becoming Mr. Ibis’s assistant.

Imagine hugging Bilquis after not seeing her for a long time.

Imagine Bilquis getting tired of waiting for you to make a move.

Imagine New Media trying to get you to trust her.

Imagine comforting Media when she starts to feel old.

Sherlock

Oneshots

British Blood, American Heart (Sherlock Half-Sister)

Non-business Meeting (Mycroft Holmes Daughter oneshot)

You Will See Me (Mycroft Holmes Oneshot)

Bullet with Vampire Wings {Sherlock x GN!Reader Oneshot}

Imagines

Imagine Sherlock passing over a case - just for your birthday.

Imagine seeing Sherlock Holmes for the first time since you two had broken up, and realizing it still hurts.

Imagine picking up a drunk Sherlock Holmes at a bar, and letting him sleep off the hangover at your place.

Imagine pretending to be Sherlock’s wife for a case and continuing to pretend after it’s over.

Imagine going for a walk with John Watson.

Imagine John Watson trying to tell you his feelings for you, but it’s too complicated for him to express properly.

Imagine wanting to help with a case, so John Watson uses his puppy dog eyes to convince you to stay safe.

Imagine Mycroft Holmes catching you hack his computer.

Imagine taking Mycroft camping because ‘he needs away from the office.’

 Imagine Mycroft knowing about your hideaway.

Imagine surprising Mycroft Holmes by wearing something sexy to his office.

Imagine volunteering to work a case with Sherlock, and Mycroft fears for you endlessly.

Imagine saving Mycroft Holmes’s life.

Imagine Mycroft Holmes waiting for you.

Imagine Moriarty helping to plan your wedding.

Imagine Jim Moriarty being your blind date, and he had it all planned out.

Imagine being a part of the wedding party at John and Mary’s wedding, and  Jim Moriarty crashes it only to kidnap you.

Imagine working with Sherlock, and tricking Moriarty into opening up to you, but feeling guilty for it after.

 Elementary

Oneshots

No shit, Sherlock (Sherlock Holmes)

Changeling (General)

Valentines Day without the Hearts (General)

Coffee with a Criminal (Jamie Moriarty)

Patch-Up (Jamie Moriarty)

Imagines

Imagine getting hurt on a case with Sherlock.

Imagine Sherlock genuinely caring about upsetting you.

Imagine taking Sherlock to Starbucks

Imagine having a simple pizza date with Joan Watson.

Imagine Joan being confused by people who still use homophobic terms.

Imagine telling Joan Watson you’ve admired her from the moment you met her.

Imagine being a new detective and Joan Watson taking you under her wing.

Imagine Mycroft Holmes personally bringing you flowers at his restaurant.

Imagine Mycroft helping you unpack.

Imagine being kidnapped by Jamie Moriarty because she finds you fascinating.

Imagine working with Sherlock and Joan, but also being Jamie’s girlfriend.

Once Upon a Time

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine having feelings for your therapist, Archie Hopper.

Misfits

Oneshots

Deserted Halls (Nathan Young)

Painted Dreams (Simon Bellamy)

Home Alone? (Simon Bellamy)

New Apartments and Horrible Beds (Rudy Wade)

Not a Happy Ending (Rudy Wade)

Alonetime isn’t a Good Time (Rudy Wade)

Imagines

Imagine Nathan tricking you into showing up in costume - but he really likes it.

Imagine Nathan Young making you the leader of his fan club.

Imagine Nathan Young giving up flirting with everyone for you.

Imagine stealing with Nathan Young.

Imagine living with Nathan Young in the Community Center.

Imagine being the newest person on Community Service and Nathan immediately staking a claim on you.

Imagine Nathan Young seducing you in front of your boyfriend.

Imagine partying with Nathan Young.

Imagine Simon trying to impress you at your house party.

Imagine your power being over weather and not being able to control it when fighting with Simon.

Imagine pulling an all-nighter with Simon.

Imagine Simon awkwardly dancing with your family on your wedding day.

Imagine being the only one to notice Simon’s birthday, and giving him a homemade cupcake.

Imagine falling asleep on Simon’s lap during community service hours.

Imagine reading comic books with Simon.

Imagine being able to see Simon Bellamy when he’s invisible.

Imagine going to a carnival with Curtis Donovan.

Imagine the first time Curtis comes over to your flat.

Imagine getting caught with Curtis.

Imagine trying new sexual kinks with Curtis, but he isn’t into it.

Imagine going in for community service and seeing Curtis, who you used to be good friends with.

Imagine meeting Rudy 2.

Imagine Rudy’s reaction to your parents thinking he’s a bad guy.

Imagine always surprising Rudy with your ‘fireworks’ power.

Imagine your powers are getting out of control and Rudy tries to make you laugh to get you to calm down.

Imagine Alex from the Bar being too shy to admit his power.  

Prison Break          

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine spending the day on a beach with Lincoln Burrows.

Imagine being Lincoln’s girl, and road-tripping with the brothers.

Imagine Lincoln Burrows following your harasser home.

Imagine being Lincoln’s wife and attending the police celebration undercover.

Imagine being Lincoln Burrows fiance and him being overprotective.

Imagine Lincoln Burrows proposing to you because he doesn’t want to lose you.

Imagine finding out about Lincoln’s prison break and telling him that you’ll never be scared of him.

Imagine trying to help Michael Scofield with his illness.

Imagine getting separated from Michael while on the run.

Imagine Michael Scofield seeing you naked for the first time.

Imagine Fernando Sucre coming home to you after breaking out of prison.

Imagine discovering Paul Kellerman is alive.

Imagine being Michael and Lincoln’s sister and Whip falling for you.   

Imagine T-Bag interrupting your breakfast.

Imagine T-Bag being impressed by you and your sassy remarks.

Imagine T-Bag thinking you’re tastier than any pastry he’s had.

Riverdale  

Oneshots

Holding (Cheryl Blossom)

Someone Dangerous (Chapter 1) (Toni Topaz)

Someone Dangerous (Chapter 2) (Toni Topaz)

Someone Dangerous (Chapter 3) (Toni Topaz)

Someone Dangerous (Chapter 4) (Toni Topaz)

Someone Dangerous (Chapter 5) (Toni Topaz) ⭐

Someone Dangerous (Final Chapter) (Toni Topaz)

Infinity (Toni Topaz)

Lightbringer (Toni Topaz)

Metamorphosis (Toni Topaz)

Promise Me (Chapter 1) (Reggie Mantle)

Promise Me (Chapter 2) (Reggie Mantle)

House of Cards (Hermione Lodge) ⭐

Beacon (Hermione Lodge) ⭐

Love Peas (Hiram Lodge)

Wide Awake (Hiram Lodge)

Imagines

Imagine Archie Andrews wanting to step up to be the boyfriend you deserve.

Imagine Archie trying to figure out the right words to win you over.

Imagine camping with Archie Andrews.

Imagine playing small pranks on Betty to cheer her up.

Imagine revealing to Betty that she’s made you feel insecure.

Imagine exploring an abandoned building with Betty Cooper.

Imagine going UFO sighting with Jughead.

Imagine drawing Jughead while he sleeps.

Imagine Veronica taking care of you when you’re sick.

Imagine Veronica Lodge inviting you for a private trip on Hiram’s yacht.

Imagine Veronica Lodge moving in with you.

Imagine the first time you tell Cheryl Blossom you love her.

Imagine surprising Cheryl for her birthday.

Imagine telling Cheryl Blossom and Toni Topaz about your abusive partner.  

Imagine Toni Topaz taking you on a night swim.

Imagine taking Toni Topaz on a date in the woods.

Imagine going on a ride with FP Jones. 

Imagine FP’s reaction to you getting fiesty with enemies of the Serpents.

Imagine being Archie Andrews’s older sister and dating FP Jones

Imagine going over your wedding plans with Fred Andrews.

Imagine Fred Andrews taking on extra hours so he can take you on a vacation.

Imagine inviting Josie McCoy to try out your new hot tub with you.

Imagine Josie getting annoyed when Reggie flirts with you.

Imagine Josie McCoy writing a duet for the two of you.

Imagine getting ready with Josie and the Pussycats.

Imagine the Ghoulies kidnapping you in front of Sweet Pea.

Imagine being the first person to hug Sweet Pea.

Imagine being in a poly relationship with Reggie Mantle and Sweet Pea.

Imagine making Hermione a home-cooked meal.

Imagine Hermione Lodge being your dominatrix.

Imagine getting into a very heated argument with Hiram Lodge.

Imagine distracting Hiram Lodge while he’s working by appearing in your underwear.

Imagine being Hiram Lodge’s young lover, and him adjusting to the changes.

Imagine Hiram Lodge introducing you to the family as his ‘Baby Girl’.

Imagine charming Hiram Lodge into a game of strip poker.

Imagine almost getting caught with Hiram Lodge, by his daughter Veronica.

Imagine cuddling with Hiram Lodge after a long day.

Imagine being Archie Andrews brother and casually admitting to Hiram Lodge that you like watching him work out at the gym.

Imagine Hiram Lodge inviting you to his private gym.

Imagine being Archie’s brother, and being intimate with Hiram Lodge for the first time.

Hannibal

Oneshots

Breach (Hannibal Lector, Will Graham, Poly)

Imagines

Imagine Hannibal vowing to keep you safe.

Imagine your honeymoon with your new husband, Hannibal Lecter.

Imagine Hannibal coming over for Christmas.

Imagine inviting Hannibal into your home for dinner.

Imagine being one of Hannibal’s patients, and causing him stress when he realizes you know his secret.

Imagine being Will Graham’s much taller significant other.

Imagine Will always coming to you after a case for comfort.

Imagine being the only person Will Graham can’t see darkness in.

Imagine renting a cabin with Will Graham.

Imagine Will Graham meeting your dogs for the first time.

Imagine being the only one to understand Will Graham’s love of dogs, and support him in it.

Imagine running away to Europe with Matthew Brown.

Imagine Matthew Brown helping you to escape.

Imagine surprising Matthew with a new victim.

Imagine Matthew Brown being impressed by how well your daughter is carving a pumpkin.   

Imagine Matthew Brown attempting to help you destress.  

Imagine being the only one in the room who does not stare at Francis’s disfigurement.

Preacher

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Jesse Custer leaving you because he doesn’t want you to worry.

Imagine Jesse Custer using his powers to help you live your dream.

Imagine spending Christmas with Jesse Custer.

Imagine forcing Jesse Custer out of bed to get breakfast with you.

Imagine going on a walk with Jesse Custer and him confessing about his powers.

Imagine Tulip O’Hare saving you from the ‘whore-house’

Imagine Tulip thinking you’re a breath of fresh air.

Imagine being just as skeptical about the misadventure as Tulip is.

Imagine Tulip going up against anyone who called you names.

Imagine Tulip watching over you as you try to get clean and sober. 

Imagine going to an art museum with Tulip, but getting bored and causing more mischief than learning.

Imagine Cassidy trying to help you through depression.

Imagine being the first person to hold Cassidy’s touch-starved hand in a long time.

Imagine Cassidy trying to corrupt you.

Imagine working for the Grail but secretly helping Cassidy. Imagine staying with Cassidy after you find out his secret.

Imagine switching out Cassidy’s wardrobe.

Imagine telling Cassidy that you don’t just want to be FWB anymore.

Imagine Cassidy hearing you talk bad about yourself.

American Horror Story

Oneshots

Horror Show (Tate Langdon)

Imagines

Imagine Tate Langdon appreciating your dark side.

Imagine Tate Langdon’s expression when you tell him you’re moving from the Murder House.

Imagine Tate Langdon being upset that he can’t go out with you on your birthday since it’s not on Halloween.

Imagine Tate Langdon wanting to show you off to the other spirits on Halloween.

Imagine being a Christian girl, and having Tate try to change your faith.

Imagine Kit dreaming of the day you walked into his shop.

Imagine being in the asylum and having a secret pet with Kit Walker.

Imagine sharing a room with Kit Walker, and he loves to smoke since it annoys you so much.

Imagine visiting the circus everyday to see Jimmy Darling.

Imagine Jimmy Darling buying you a new dress and seeing you in it for the first time.

Imagine Jimmy Darling flirting with you despite your disfigurement.

Imagine Dandy Mott insisting you share a bed with him.

Imagine Dandy Mott finding out that you are a normal person, and not one of the ‘Freaks’.

Imagine Dandy Mott finding you more interesting than the Freak Show.

Imagine controlling Kevin Spencer and having him do ‘fun’ things to you.

Imagine being a ghost and confusing Ben Harmon by walking past his office naked.

Imagine teasing Ben Harmon by luring him into the shower, only to disappear when he gets in.

Imagine toying with Ben Harmon one night, and kissing him when he begins doubting your existence.

House

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine your boyfriend Dr. House coming up with some creative ways to help your insomnia.

Imagine Gregory House entering your house for the first time.

Imagine lying to Dr. House but he understands it completely.

Imagine working under House and hearing him  complain about his problems.

The IT Crowd

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine bringing Roy a salad for lunch.

Imagine looking after Maurice Moss when he’s slightly concussed.

Friends

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine spending your birthday with Phoebe Buffay.

Z Nation

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being Addy Carver being all cute with you.

Imagine Addison Carver having to leave you behind.

Imagine seeing George again after being separated by the apocalypse.

Chicago Fire

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Matt Casey missing you.

His Dark Materials

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Asriel always seeing you as the one that got away.

Imagine Lord Asriel not wanting to admit to you that he was wrong.

Victorious

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being caught skipping class with Beck Oliver.

Squid Game

Oneshots

Fear of Disappointment (Chapter 1) (Seong Gi-Hun)

Fear of Disappointment (Chapter 2) (Seong Gi-Hun)

Fear of Disappointment (Final Chapter) (Seong Gi-Hun)

Imagines

Imagine  Seong Gi-Hun meeting your family.

Criminal Minds

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine figuring out who the killer is before the rest of your team, including Spencer Reid.

The Walking Dead

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being a Dixon and entering into a relationship with Rick Grimes.

The Umbrella Academy

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine falling in love with Five when you were kids.

Interview with the Vampire

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Lestat falling for you, despite you being the opposite of him.

Imagine being Lestat’s soulmate, but almost total opposite.

Imagine having an at-home spa day with Lestat.

Imagine being Louis’s child, and him comforting you after turning you.

Imagine being more of a sleeper, while Lestat is an ‘up and at em’ kind of fellow.

Imagine catching Lestat singing to your (stolen) daughter.

Imagine watching Lestat teaching your daughter French.

Imagine rejecting Lestat’s advances.

The Mighty Boosh

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine getting a minor injury while working with Vince Noir.

Imagine being Howard’s very supportive partner.

Lucifer

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine Lucifer nearly dying, and you clinging onto him.

Mayfair Witches

Oneshots

Imagines

Imagine being Lasher’s favorite witch, and him trying everything to get a body to be with you.

[sweeneytoddst]

Ending Ballad Talk

DISCLAIMERS: Scroll away now if you don't want to read what I have to say about the Sweeney Todd Revival. I'm critiquing it.

I have loved Sweeney Todd for over a decade of my life. It is my special interest, and it literally means so much to me, so I have A LOT of thoughts involving the revival. These are some of those thoughts.

Literally this is my critique, my analysis, my observation, and my opinion on the choices made for the revival. So literally don't come at me if you can't handle someone critiquing (and not liking) the revival of Sweeney Todd.

With disclaimers out of the way now, I want to talk about the End Ballad in Sweeney Todd. Specifically, my issues with the choices made from the revival.

First, I can start off by saying that Gaten and Joe do a great job as Toby. I think out all the cast of characters, Tobias was the most well directed character. Not only do they sound great, but their voices do a killer job. That being said, the ensemble sound phenomenal, and I would be a fool to not say that.

However, the choreography in this show really kills it for me. While they do sound great, the choreo is incredibly distracting, and not to mention I just don't like this choreo at all. Some things are cool, but most times I'm left sitting there asking, "what the hell are they doing?". That's not me saying the dancers are bad. It's the choreo. I'm of the firm belief that Sweeney Todd doesn't need choreography to tell its story, and this version of the show is further proof of that because it is so distracting for what is needed to be said from the ensemble. As the victims of this story, the ensemble tells the tale of Sweeney to the audience in the style of a Greek Chorus. Just as the Goddesses from Hercules, for example. They're here to move along our story through narration. This is hard to follow most times with so much movement. Small uniform movements would work great but full-blown choreography while trying to tell us a story is... as I have said... distracting. The way Sondheim wrote this music was so you didn't need choreography to say something. The music does that for us. Now, specifically talking about the ending ballad in this case, for me, it just kills the mood. We just saw Sweeney have this gut-wrenching song of betrayal, and him clutching to his deceased wife in the end, Toby losing his mind and killing Sweeney, and proceeding to show us the extent of his newfound madness in this dead silence of the theater only for the mood to be shot with all this dancing. You're supposed to continue this feeling of dread from the moment Sweeney dies to when the ballad ends. For me, the choreography completely ruins this emotional build up.

Sweeney is a different kind of musical than the ones you see today. You don't need choreography, and in fact, adding choreography to it just makes it feel cheap and not like this intense tragedy with a few comedic moments thrown in. Not every musical requires choreo, and those who do require have reason for it. Could you imagine Newsies being told without choreography? It would be blasphemy. Sweeney WITH choreo makes it feel the same way. There's a reason it's not written in the script after all.

IDK, the TLDR; you're supposed to feel shaken by the end of Sweeney and to me the choreo ruins it.

Secondly, and this was my main point of talking about this, Sweeney and Lovett at the end of the End Ballad. Holding hands and jumping into "hell" together.

I gonna say it: why the hell did they direct it like that? So, because they're dead now, Sweeney is just cool with Lovett now and willingly accepts being with her in hell like a demonic couple or whatever? That is so far from what his character would do that seeing this part always makes me phyically cringe. Sweeney found out that Lovett literally lied and withheld information about his wife, encouraged him on this killing spree which inevitably led to him killing Lucy, and you (royal) think he's just cool with her in hell now? His character would not willingly take her hand and go with her. He'd be an angry and vengeful spirit in hell that would resent Lovett for all of eternity. And she is forced to forever live with her greed, selfishness, guilt, and heartbreak. I know it's the littlest thing for them to hold hands, but the smallest things have the biggest intentions. Like look at all the little things added in Coraline. Those little things were intentional and had meaning, so my point is that they would never do that for the End Ballad and changes the lesson the audience is left with! Their characters just wouldn't do that because he had no interest in her when he was alive, and hated her right before he killed her. He wouldn't then go and hold her hand to jump into hell with her. This isn't some kind of acceptance. This is a poor direction choice because this direction team really wanted to push the idea that they were possibly getting with each other, and I cannot explain to you how incredibly inaccurate that is to Sweeney and Lovett's characters.

Stage directions from the script: TODD and MRS. LOVETT are the last to leave. They look at each other, then exit in opposite directions, MRS. LOVETT into the wings, TODD upstage. He glares at us malevolently for a moment, then slams the iron door in our faces. Blackout.

Looking at Angela Lansbury and George Hearn with this scene, for example, as Lovett exits, she looks back woefully and guiltily at Sweeney, while Sweeney has nothing but hatred and fire in his expression. They go their separate ways in "hell" leaving us with Sweeney left glaring at us and slamming the door to his "hell" in our face. This alone tells us that Sweeney's spirit will remain angry and vengeful as per what his character is all about. He is still angry and vengeful towards Lovett when he finds out the truth, even in death. And now because of her, he will never see his Lucy even in Heaven because of the path he took and all with Lovett's encouragement and selfishness. This is the message we are supposed to be left with as an audience by the end of the show. We're supposed to feel sorrow and dread. That's how this story moves us. Having Sweeney and Lovett come together, holding hands, and going into hell together severs this message. This is telling the audience that though they weren't going to be together in life, they will be in death. A sort of "they deserve each other" message which is not at all what Sweeney Todd is about!! As someone who adores this story with every fiber of my being, this being the direction the revival took with Sweeney and Lovett's characters feels like salt in a fresh wound. Even in the Burton film where we don't get the End Ballad, we're still left with Sweeney's anger and sorrow as the film comes to a close.

All in all, I'm very disheartened by this take on Sweeney and Lovett from the revival period. And it really is the icing on the cake for me to say how much I am disappointed in this take when the final image is them holding hands and jumping into hell together. They would never do that.

I can write a book on why certain things from the revival do not work, but this is again, just my opinion. I recognize that so many people like this version, which while I do not understand or agree with it, at least people are becoming more recognized with ST in one way or another.

#todd speaks

[libraryfag]

Sweeney Todd 1960s* au thoughts

*i had it in my head the musical was set in the 1860s and so it would be 100 years in the future. but i've decided to keep it as the 1960s because the 1940s 1. absolutely doesn't work as well thematically 2. 40s england does not interest me a lot which means i also know a lot less about it. I still don't know a lot about the 60s esp in regards to dates so if i get anything wrong please correct me

INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION THEMES!!!! exept this time theres all mod comms and such vs england having a shitty post war economy

Anthony just returned from the korean war (idk if accurate) insteadd of being a sailor. its still set in england which relates to his more optimistic view on life

In contrast, Sweeney is a veteran from WWII (again not sure about this) which explains his disillusionment and hatred of society

Lucy recived a letter announcing his death instead of him being a convict. turns out they misidentified his body

Mrs Lovett struggles to make homemade pies against mass produced corporations and also due to aforementioned economy

they accuse Pirelli of being a communist (to protect themselves) which leads to the competition

ACT 2: somehow Mrs Lovett and Sweeney get married convince ppl that Toby is their son (?) and they become like, the Ideal Nucular Family and you can see this with set and costume

my one issue with this is that that would mean Mrs Lovett would be a housewife ie. not have a job which would completly mess up the whole plot thing but whatever. um. i guess use your imagination?

The whole 'city on fire' has a new meaning what with the cold war/MAD/disillusionment from vietnam etc

generally the whole paranoia threat to society thing was a big theme during the cold war- i mean that is when the musical/play it was based on came about so..

#my posts #sweeney todd #history #theatre tag #horror