#souvenir wares | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luv4freddie · 4 months

Text

Polaroid Love - F.W

Fred goes to work with his father and comes home with a muggle Polaroid camera, deciding the best use of it would be to take horrendous pictures of his girlfriend.

Fred x fem!Muggleborn reader, established relationship, reader gets red, house and age not specific, tooth rotting fluff bc I love lovesick Fred, 1.2 k words

Being a muggleborn at the Weasley household was an experience, to say the least.

In the last week since you’ve been at the Burrow, you’ve explained what rubber ducks are for, how to operate a microwave, and Pythagorean theorem.

Today Aurthur took the boys to work with him, so you were currently helping Molly cook dinner.

You had yet to understand the witchy way of cooking, so you were stuck mixing a bowl by hand while Molly sent knives, pots, and pasta flying all across the room.

You ducked a flying cutting board right as the group of rowdy boys entered the front door, your boyfriends voice in particular carrying over the noise of clattering dish ware.

“Honey, we’re home.” Aurthur calls, and Molly meets them all at the door, asking you to ‘keep an eye on’ the multitude of activity in the kitchen.

You look around with wide eyes, imagining all the magical pots dropping to the floor and spoons stopping their stirring, Molly walking in and wondering how you were so incompetent that you would never be able to cook and therefore would be a horrible wife to her son.

You’re only snapped out of your reverie by a flash of light in your eyes, and you tumble back to your current environment— all the dishes are still floating, the spoons were still moving, and Fred was staring at you with a giant grin on his face.

“Hi Freddie!” You light up at the sight of your boyfriend, but don’t allow his attempt at hugging you, too focused on not disappointing your (hopefully) future mother-in-law.

“They’re not gonna stop working unless mom makes them, these things are always going.”

But you refuse to budge, and Molly walks in to see you holding your boyfriend away with one hand on his chest while you continue trying to stir with the other.

She lets out a laugh, telling Fred to leave you alone and go wash up before dinner.

“One kiss? Pleaseeee?” He gives you puppy eyes, and your face goes bright red.

“Not in front of your parents!” You hiss, but he steals a one anyway before running up the stairs and out of the way of the punch you tried to throw at him.

Molly pretends not to have seen, and you let your face cool down before asking what she wants you to do next.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat at the large table, sandwiched between the twins while Ron talks to you from across the table.

“It was pretty fun, and we all got muggle souvenirs afterward, can you explain to me what this is?” He asks, holding up a PEZ dispenser with a cartoon character head on top.

You laugh, explaining how to get the candy out and watching as a few of the Weasley’s around the table stop to watch, Aurthur positively beaming at the discovery.

“Take a bite before dad can ask you something,” Fred whispers urgently in your ear, and you go to say something back but see Aurthur open his mouth on the other side of the table and you quickly scoop as much pasta into your mouth as you can fit.

You hear Fred laugh at you, and you turn to give him a glare; although it’s less scary due to the copious amounts of noodle hanging out of your mouth.

A flash once again momentarily blinds you, and you finally realize what it is when you see the small Polaroid camera in your boyfriend’s hand.

You go to yell at him, but still have pasta in your mouth so you settle for an angry groan and another smack to his arm.

You watch in horror as a piece of film comes out of the camera, which your boyfriend takes gingerly and looks at expectantly as it develops.

You finally manage to swallow your large bite, and you snatch the photo from his grasp, immediately being greeted by your own face, round with food in your cheeks and wide eyes while strands of pasta hang down your chin and sauce sits on the corners of your mouth.

“Freddie,” you groan in annoyance, but he just takes the photo back from your hands and looks at it proudly.

“It’s a lovely representation of you, darling.”

“It is not!!”

George is laughing too, and you turn back to your plate, trying not to think about the fact that your boyfriend now has two horrible pictures of you for keepsakes.

You try to help clean up after dinner, but Molly insists that someone else does it since you helped cook, so you head upstairs to your boyfriend’s room while Ron and Ginny grumble.

“Evening, love,” Fred greets as you enter the twins’ room.

“Y/n,” George greets as well, tipping his nonexistent hat to you before turning his back to you so he can start a letter to Angelina.

Your boyfriend uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you today.” He mumbles into your hair.

“It wasn’t even a full day,” you laugh, the sound muffled by his chest.

He scoffs, sitting down on his bed and pulling you onto his lap.

“So what, I’m not allowed to miss my girl?”

You feel your cheeks warming at the claim of being his, and you give him a teasing smile, “well when you say it like that..”

Before you can even move there’s another flash and you immediately groan, burying your head into the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m really starting to resent your dad for getting you that.”

You feel his shoulders shake with laughter, but all he says is “I think it’s my second favorite possession.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, pulling back so he can see it.

“Second favorite?”

“Yep. After these pictures.” He grins, now holding up all three photos he’s taken of you since being home.

“Why can’t you just take pictures like a normal person?” You ask, looking at the two new photos, the one from earlier of you with a wooden spoon in your hand and eyes looking around while bowls float around your head, and the newest one of you sat on Fred’s legs with pink cheeks and a grin on your face.

“Normal people don’t get to keep your happy face in their pockets though, now do they?”

You watch as he puts the photos back, and you melt at the thought of your boyfriend wanting to document your joy to keep as his own.

“I’m always wearing my happy face when I’m around you, Freddie.”

He grins (ignoring George’s gagging) and pulls you down onto his bed, smothering you in kisses until he can no longer keep himself up and your face is brighter than his hair.

“Guess I’ll have to get more film then.”

And he does.

In fact, by the time you get back to Hogwarts from the holidays he’s got a whole wall of polaroids .

You in his Christmas sweater with a proud smile on your face and an F across your chest, you being squeezed by his mother in the worlds tightest hug, you on a broom in his backyard and a quaffle in your arms, you asleep on his bed, even one of you puckering up as if to give the camera a kiss.

And no matter how many times he looks at them, Fred still stares at the photos with a lovesick smile on his face, absolutely in awe at the ability to capture pictures that are so you, so full of light and love that he feels like the luckiest man on Earth to get to be yours.

#I typed Weasley so many times it doesn’t feel like a real word 😭😭#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x you #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley #fred weasley x y/n #harry potter scenarios #harry potter boys #harry potter characters #weasley twins

608 notes · View notes

jinna-aka-ninja · 11 months

Text

Calling of the Souls ~ Poly!LostBoysXFem!Reader

Word Count: 1,082

Just a little fun writing something on my free day, might make a part 2

Part 2 here! - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 Part 6

It ached. Hand clutched to her own chest, unsure how to stop the pain from rushing through for the fourth time in lord knows how long. Y/N had this pain go through her exactly 3 precious times. She knew what it had meant. Her soulmate died... again. How many times would Y/N have to endure this? The chances of finding your soulmate were next to impossible. One would think with a life of eternal youth it would give one more hope, but Y/N thought it was hopeless. It took no longer than a century for her to feel it 4 times. The pain within her chest crashed like violent waves in a storm. Merciless.

The only soothing sensations she felt was when the familiar that she had born with would start to mutter spells of his own to help her through it. A demon familiar by the name Tyr. Think of the demon and he shall appear. Tyr strode in seeing Y/N grabbing her duffel bag already he knew that this meant she had no intention to stay in this location any longer. "Where to?" He asked her moving to her side. Tyr had been by her side for so long now. Having watched over her, helped her hide, helped her harness her abilities. "You pick." Y/N said shrugging; there was no point in staying in the town. Having grown bored of it, small towns were always the same like that. "How about somewhere exciting?" He asked, eyes shining scarlet red, muttering an incantation as he opened the door to the room they were in. Looking through the door, she glanced back at him with an eyebrow raised. "A carnival?" "It's a boardwalk! Now go through so I can close the portal." He said to her, Y/N obeyed as she walked through, Tyr following after her. Y/N looked at the place bustling with life. It was summer, of course it was packed. She had to admit, it was a great place to hide. No doubt she could blend in with the crowds. The sun was slowly setting. They had to find a place to temporarily call home. How fun, a part of the beach had been closed. This meant something good for Y/N. Abandoned lifeguard buildings. She did happen upon one. Tyr had to help her in harnessing the power to change the small building into what they required. Bigger on the inside. If someone were to enter they would be in the original, she remained in this pocket dimension Tyr built and transported with her from place to place. Sure saved on rent. After she set her things down Y/N wondered if she should travel to the boardwalk. "I'm going exploring, are you coming?" She asked Tyr who lay on the bed. Hands behind his head as one of his long legs bent. "You're on your own. You know how to call me if you need me." He said closing his eyes. Y/N rolled her eyes as she left. Y/N began walking on the beach until she ended up at the boardwalk. The sun had set already. The lights of the rides of the carnival illuminating it up for all to see, like a bug zapper luring in insects, her included. How could anyone avoid the allure of the boardwalk? Y/N walked with a smile on her lips as she passed by the vendors selling trinkets and other things. Glancing at their wares before stopping to purchase a cup of lemonade. It had Santa Carla printed on the cup. It was huge. She was almost regretting buying the cup; seeing as she needed both hands to hold the souvenir. She almost skipped as she made her way to the carousal. This was her first time in a place like this. Her excitement beamed from her as she looked for somewhere to sit. Spotting a unicorn her eyes lit up. However before she made it to the unicorn someone beat her to it. She didn't want to sit on the carriage. It was meant for 2 and she felt bad taking it from some couple who could use it.

The sound of boots and chains reached her ears. Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes narrowed. She couldn't explain why, maybe it was because her senses picked this up specifically through the loud boardwalk. Quickly she took a seat, not caring if she did take a potential couples spot. All she could focus on was trying to avoid drawing attention to herself. The feeling of someone's leg brushing against her snapped her attention to the formerly empty seat beside her. Her eyes on the leg before making their gaze drift up to the person's face. Piercing blue eyes bore into her own Y/E/C. Y/N's breath caught in her throat. What was this? The platinum blonde smirked at her as he lifted his hand to hold her chin, fingers against her cheek to keep her gaze on him when she started to look away to the laughter so close to them. "What's your name?" The male with platinum blue eyes asked her.

It almost felt like she would tell him anything he wanted to hear. Her mind in a fog as her lips parted to speak, then almost like a shock to her brain, something cleared that fog away. She knew that she should not feel that way. "Does it matter?" Y/N responded moving her head back and out of his grasp. This answer seemed to surprise the guy, but he only let it show for a second at most. Then he looked like he was accepting a challenge. His "friends' started to laugh again. Enjoying that he seemed to not have as easy of a time as he had clearly expected. "Of course it matters. How about this, I'm David. That's Dwayne, Paul and Marko." David said pointing at each one respectively. Dwayne had the faintest of smiles on his lips, had it not been for the amused and excited look in his eyes Y/N would have thought he was the most calm of the bunch. Paul didn't hide his excitement in the least bit. His smile and his eyes showed just how much fun he was having with this encounter. Marko, he was something, his gloved hand up, biting his thumb, hiding a grin. His eyes showed what Y/N could only describe as him trying to hold himself back from his giddiness. David spoke again, "So... what's your name?"

#The Lost Boys 1987 #dwayne x reader #david x reader #marko x reader #paul x reader #poly!lost boys x reader #fem!reader #lost boys 1987 #lost boys x reader #dwayne lost boys #marko lost boys #david lost boys #paul lost boys

609 notes · View notes

it-was-funeral-grey · 5 months

Text

Moving nowhere (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Masterlist Part 5 Part 6 Part 7(wip!)

Summary: you’re finally back home, so things should be back to normal, right?

Warnings: reader's parents (mother and father), anxious reader, a scream, blood, death (not F!reader or al haitham)

Word count: <3.4k

Inspired by: -

Author's note: i'm back! i'm thinking of setting up a writing schedule, and make writing a habit again.

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Up until a month ago, owning books for personal use was against the Akademiya's rules. So, things like storybooks and guidebooks weren't a thing that most people grew up with. Books were considered items only used by Akademiya students or teachers (and record keepers)- untouchable and unnecessary for the common folk. Who needed books, anyway? The Akasha Terminal had everything, after all.

Oh, but you were different. And so much better off for it, so you'd like to believe.

Your mother was a trader- a rather adventurous one, at that. Instead of trading by Port Ormos, waiting for business to come her way, she'd set sail with her wares to the seven nations. And when she came home, she brought back all sorts of souvenirs.

One day, after a particularly long trip to Liyue, she came home carrying a mysterious brown squarish thing.

"They call this a book," your mother had told you, gently placing the item in your hands as she closed the door behind her. "Open it and take a look!"

Taking the item from your mother, you slowly turned it in your hands, running a finger along its unbound side- the concaved, pressed pages bound by leather.

"Records of... Jun- no, Jui-"

"Records of Jueyun," your mother corrected. "It's a storybook."

"What's that?"

"Why don't you open it?"

You cautiously pulled the hardcover and were greeted by pages upon pages of writing. But these writings were different from the passages you had to read at the village school.

Words- both new and familiar, were placed together in ways you have never seen before, creating beautiful pictures in your mind.

"...The merciful Geo Archon granted their request and made them as such. The end."

"Wait! That's it?!" you exclaim, desperately trying to find another page to turn. But all there was the brown, empty book cover. "That's all?"

"This is only the first volume," Your mother chuckled, patting your head gently as she took the book back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll try to bring the next one another time, alright?"

"...Alright, but can I keep it?" you reached out, trying to take the book.

There was a pause from your mother as she pulled the book away from your reaching hands.

"Pleaseee?"

"Only if you promise to keep this a secret, alright?" Your mother squatted to your eye level, her tone serious. "You have to keep this book a secret, ok? No one can know that we have this."

"Yes! I will!"

"Alright, now go put the book at the bottom of your toy box. And then let's go help Daddy cook some dinner!"

At that time, your enthusiasm distracted you from the seriousness in your mother's tone. As a young child, you didn't think about why you weren't allowed to tell anyone about your new possession- or why your mother had removed her Akasha Terminal when she spoke of the book. All you could think of were brave stone beasts and a magical land called "Liyue".

As tough as it was, you managed to keep the secret until the Matra barged into your home many years later (though the Personal Books Act was abolished by then). In those years, however, your obsession with books only grew- and was wholly encouraged by your parents. You learned how to read and to learn through reading. As a result, the Akasha Terminal you had received from the Akademiya when you turned 18 had been useless to you- what could it tell you that your precious books could not? The information you wanted was sometimes beyond what your credentials allowed you anyway. Besides, you loved the process of reading and reading and reading even more before you finally found what you wanted to know. What was the point of having information beamed into your mind when you could learn that and way more through books and research?

"The world doesn't just consist of Sumeru," your mother had told you two years later on the day you moved out with your secret massive (and illegal) collection of books. "Go, look further than Vimara Village. Explore! Your books can only tell you so much."

"I know, Mum," your voice strains as you place a crate packed with books shrouded in cloth into your new home. In the interest of saving money, you hadn't moved far- just about a kilometre from your parents' house. It's a little bigger than your family home, which means more places for you to store (hide) your books. "But Liyue's Law School is expensive, and I want to save up as much as I can for it."

"You're an intelligent young woman," your father dusts off his hands. "I'm sure there are bursaries and scholarships that you can apply for. And if money is an issue-"

"Thank you, Dad, but it's fine. I want to be able to go there using my own money- if I don't learn to save and make my own Mora, when will I ever learn how to?"

"We understand, dear," your mother sighs, looking at you. "We just don't want you to waste your youth away toiling away when you could go to Liyue and learn and enjoy yourself now. You'll have all the time in Teyvat to work when you're older."

"And what I want is for the two of you to enjoy your retirement and explore Teyvat," you smile at your mother. "Don't worry about me! I'll learn lots from the work experience! It's like you always say, Mum..."

"Book learning alone is not enough to cultivate intelligence. All those scholars from the Akademiya are prime examples."

If you're being honest, you don't want to leave your house. But if you don't head out now, you'll miss the only opportunity to buy groceries from Bahram until tomorrow morning. You don't think the onion (half an onion- Al Haitham ate the other half) from yesterday can sustain you till then.

You shut the door again, sighing as you stretched your sprained ankle. It doesn't hurt as much as yesterday, thankfully. But your stomach does, as it growls yet again.

One more minute. One more minute, and you'll head out.

You stare at your feet as you clutch your door handle, pulling it slightly open again. 60, 59, 58…

Your heart pounds. For some reason, the sounds outside your door seem sharper now. You hear every footstep, every laugh, every shuffle-

40, 39, 38…

There are people outside. So, so many people.

The moment you step out, you know you'll be under fire. Everyone thinks you had kidnapped the Acting Grand Sage, after all.

What are they saying about you now?

30, 29, 28…

Your reputation is probably in shambles right now. Getting arrested was pretty much social suicide. Falsely accused or not, it doesn't matter. The village gossipers don't care.

Maybe it's better to stay at home. No one can see you here. You can't hear the things they'll say about you here.

They'll all stare at you if you go out. Angry, disgusted stares. All pointed at you.

20, 19, 18…

Yeah. Home doesn't sound too bad. Food? Technically, paper is made from trees, yes? And trees are kind of like vegetables. You'll have a damn healthy diet if you eat your books. Thankfully, you have no shortage of them.

10, 9, 8…

Yep. Home is where the heart is, and your bookshelf can be your new food pantry.

5, 4, 3…

You remove your hand from the handle. One light push and your door will close- shutting you from the world.

You'll be safe.

You'll be alone.

You place your hand back on the handle, ready to push.

2, 1-

But just as you are about to push, fingers wrap around the edge of the open door and push back against you, forcing the door wide open.

Zero.

Al Haitham was supposed to head back immediately after settling things with Dilawar. That was the plan. He had no time to waste hanging around anywhere other than his office.

That was the plan.

Thanks to her directions, he managed to find Dilawar's house not long after he left her home. He had pounded on the man's door relentlessly till he opened up.

And when he finally did, Al Haitham went off.

Al Haitham had let him know the full extent of his frustrations regarding the lack of response to his letters. And let Dilawar know how appalled he was when he came to the port to find it completely deserted- how could he, the main trade supervisor, let that happen?

"But Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham, be reasonable! There was nothing for the workers to do-"

"It is one thing to cut down on staff. It is a whole other thing to call it quits the moment things go south and lay everyone off," Al Haitham ranted. "I sent the first letter three months ago a day after the Port Ormos crash. The fact that I heard nothing back- and that I found that letter completely unread and on your desk alongside the others in your office shows that you immediately abandoned your post," Al Haithan sighed heavily. "According to the reports I received, merchant ships were still coming in when the Wikala Funduq shut down. Trade could have still gone on- however inefficiently- had you and Ms Gauhar not caved."

It wasn't like Al Haitham to go on and on like this about things that have already happened and cannot be changed. But he can't help it. The Port Ormos issue has been one of his biggest headaches that has been going on for three months now. And all because two flimsy trade supervisors can't do their job right the moment their Akasha Terminals couldn't help them. The reason for the Port Ormos Crash was internal- which made him all the more upset.

By the time Al Haitham finished dealing with Dilawar, night had fallen. He was exhausted- but not so much that he would have taken Dilawar's guest room. All he wants is to recharge in peace. Alone. In silence.

Turning the noise cancellation on his earpieces, he slowly walked out of Dilawar's house and turned towards the village dock. But just as he looked ahead to see where he was going, he saw something glowing softly below in the distance.

Squinting his eyes, Al Haitham took a step forward- what in Teyvat is that? Now that he thinks about it, won't this direction head towards her home? All he'll have to do is take the slope back down, and she'll be right there.

Ah, wait. That is her home- and if he focuses hard enough, he can see that whatever is glowing is coming from her home. The pieces start to click- it's candlelight. She's lighting candles around her home. The Matra destroyed everything- even her lanterns.

Peering over the ledge, Al Haitham silently observes a single, flickering orange orb float from one end of her home to another- slowly illuminating room by room in a gentle glow. It's so much easier on the eye than the other houses with obnoxiously bright white lanterns.

Through the now backlit curtains, he sees her silhouette- and he watches her as she blows out the candle in her hand. He watches her graceful movements as she slowly makes her way across the room, running her hands along what he recalls to be one of her bookshelves- the one where she told him to place her law books.

She runs a finger slowly down the spine of one of her books, and Al Haitham feels a shiver go down his- snapping him out of whatever trance he was stuck in.

Archons, he must be exhausted. What is he, a creep? Staring at someone in their own home??

Gathering himself, he looks around. It's 15-minute walk back to the dock. With no guarantee that there's anyone still awake to take him back to Sumeru City.

Might as well spend the night here. The more he entertained the thought, the more appealing it sounded.

Oh, whatever, Al Haitham caves. He's too tired, and the ambience is too comfortable to resist. Finding what seems to be a nice tree, he settles himself down, leaning his head against the solid wooden bark as he watches the gentle glow of the distant candlelights lull him to sleep.

And if his eyes ever drifted to the woman still picking out a book to read? Well, that'll be a secret between him and imaginary Kaveh (unfortunately).

"Are you alright?"

Out of anyone who you thought would bust into your house today, he wasn't one of them. You were expecting more of an angry mob- or one of those angry-Acting-Grand-Sage-fanatic that had missed the notice that you were innocent and was going to kill you in revenge for kidnapping the Acting Grand Sage (yeah, you've read too many Mondstadt romance novels).

"Al Haitham?" you stabilise yourself, taking a step towards him. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

"Ah, of course," you say, realising at that moment that the now fully open door left you fully exposed to the outside world. "Come on in!" You invite, before promptly shutting the door behind him.

He's carrying something, you notice as you turn back to face him. Alongside his overnight bag, he's got a paper bag filled with stuff.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he replies calmly, looking around your home- his eyes lingering along a candlestand attached to your wall. "I just came by to pass you these," he hands over the paper bag to you. "Some groceries."

"Oh, you shouldn't have-"

"If I haven't, would you have gone out to get them yourself?" Al Haitham interrupts. "I saw you hover your door for over an hour."

"Ah, you saw that," you respond sheepishly.

"I did. You opened the door just to close it every time."

"Well..."

"What are you afraid of?" Al Haitham cocks his head towards the door. "Your neighbours?"

When you don't reply, Al Haitham sighs.

"How's your ankle?" He changes the subject, motioning for you to sit on the couch.

"It's much better than yesterday! Just a bit of aching, but I'm fine," you reply hastily, grateful for the subject change. You don't want to talk about what could be awaiting you outside your door.

"That's good," Al Haitham sits opposite you, glancing at the book you've left on the armrest. "'Sumeru Law 203". I'm impressed you managed to get ahold of an Akademiya textbook."

"Oh!" Now this, you want to want to talk about. You've never had anyone to enthuse with about your book collection before. "I bought it from an Akademiya student passing by Port Ormos a couple of years ago! He kept saying that he wanted to quit and was throwing a whole fit at the docks!" you chuckle, remembering the scene. You had tried to calm him and encourage him, but it seemed his mind was made up, so you offered to buy the book from him. It took quite a bit of convincing since it was very illegal for Akademiya-associated individuals to sell their books to non-Akademiya individuals. But when you showed the student that you were willing to pay quite the sum, his determination wavered and eventually gave in.

"You're very lucky the Matra found you after the Personal Book Act was abolished," Al Haitham looks at your packed bookshelves as he flips to a page in the textbook. "All these books would have given you... at least a fifteen-year sentence- and your textbooks," he gives the one he holds a little shake in your direction while glancing at you, "would have been a separate sentence- easily ten years per book and-"

"The sentences would have been ordered to run consecutively, not concurrently," you finish his line. He looks up from the book, and you think he almost looks impressed. "I have seven Akademiya textbooks. In total, I would have sat in jail for no less than eighty-five years."

"...That's right."

"I could have spent an entire lifetime behind bars."

"You could have."

"Do you think I was stupid, then? To take a risk just to read books when I could have asked the Akasha Terminal and have all the knowledge beamed into my head instead?"

Al Haitham shuts the book gently and hands it back to you. His response is almost immediate.

"No. If anything, I think you are all the more brilliant for doing so."

Al Haitham spends the rest of the morning chatting with her about books. He gave his honest comments on those he had read before and took note of the ones she recommended. It was refreshing, to say the least.

This was the first time he'd ever spoken to someone so enthusiastic about reading. Any reader he had come across before this were all Akademiya students- who mostly did read begrudgingly just so they could say they fulfilled their book annotation coursework in the House of Daena. The only other person who even had the slightest chance of matching her current enthusiasm was Kaveh- and he didn't even like reading as much as he liked spewing out his opinions in whatever architecture book he was annotating.

But her- she enjoyed it, reading. She liked getting confused by the words, and looking them up in a (Al Haitham hardly gets surprised by anything, but this did) actual, paper dictionary. She likes jumping back pages to re-read that one sentence she did not understand, but they referenced it later so she has to. She liked finding out that one book said this, and the other said that- so she could think about both and try to figure out which made more sense to her.

The effort. The focus. The occasional paper cut. She loved all of it.

It was a whole experience watching her talk about what she had read. Hearing what she thought about it- telling her what he thought about it- pushing each other's horizons just that little bit further.

He loved it.

"I mean, I think it's valid for Risha to think like that," she states, pointing out a passage in a novel. They had moved on from non-fiction to fiction- from the bookshelf near the main door to the one at the back wall. "But her reaction wasn't justified- Ona doesn't deserve that at all! She didn't know!"

"I agree," Al Haitham prepares to rebut. "But-"

A shrill scream pierces through the calm atmosphere, and she nearly falls out of her seat.

"What happened?!"

"It sounds like it's coming from the houses above," Al Haitham hears a flurry of footsteps leading towards the slope. "Let's go."

By the time you reach the top of the slope, you're not far behind Al Haitham. Panting, you look up. Everyone's gathered around Mr Dilawar's house- and is someone crying?

"Get behind me," Al Haitham whispers to you. "Is your ankle-"

"My ankle's fine. I'm just- just out of shape," you pant. "That's Mr Dilawar's house."

"I met him there yesterday," Al Haitham slowly pushes past the crowd. "I stayed with him till the late evening, before I-"

"What-"

You've suddenly spun around, facing away from the house.

"Al Haitham?! What are you-" You turn your head to face back, but he blocks your vision with a quick step.

"How comfortable are you with blood?"

"Blood? What do you mean-"

"Human blood. In large quantities."

A shiver goes down your spine.

"Al Haitham, what happened to Mr Dilawar?"

Just as Al Haitham was about to reply, a loud voice from the house yelled at the crowd to give way. You step aside, guided by Al Haitham, as a makeshift stretcher quickly carries something covered by a red-stained tarp away from his house. The smell is unmistakable- it's blood.

You turn to face the house, and this time Al Haitham doesn't block you. You're instantly greeted by a world of red- which you're sure extends further into his house if only you have the guts to check.

"Who was the last person to see him?" A man sobs- Mr Azmas. "That must be who killed my brother! Find him now! Get the Matra!"

"I met him there yesterday," Al Haitham had pushed past the crowd. "I stayed with him till the late evening, before I-"

You have a bad feeling about this. A shiver, now threatening to break into full-blown trembling threatens to take over your body as you turn to face the green-clad man slowly.

"Al Haitham, what happened with Mr Dilawar?"

Join the Taglist!

Tagged: @sh3wholiv3s @simpcreator @confusedparticle @quintessentialdreaming @icedlemontea03 @levisbebe @anxious-piece-of-bread @confused-red-head @yukina-otome @tigerpriestess @euniscorn @herbal-tea-and-manga @shikamiru @aira-needs-sleep

#hereandnow #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact #al haitam x reader

61 notes · View notes

lordshroom · 2 months

Note

A "young" Donatello would like to know if your competitors want to buy any souvenirs of the tmnt au competition. His main wares are custom color bead bracelets, with two different wire options.

ooo what a wonderful stock! He'll take a little something something to remind him of home. Thanks!

@tmntaucompetition

#2012 good genes #good genes au #tmnt good genes #good genes #tmnt au competition

36 notes · View notes

saintmeghanmarkle · 1 month

Text

American Riviera Orchard vs Royal Collection Shop: an epiphany by u/Mickleborough

American Riviera Orchard vs Royal Collection Shop: an epiphany This might be a reach, but could Meghan’s American Riviera Orchard hope to rival the product line of the Royal Collection Shop?The Royal Collection Shop’s basically the souvenir arm of The Royal Collection Trust, a registered charity whose aims are the care and conservation of the Royal Collection, including residences. They run the souvenir shops at various royal residences, including Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle, and the Palace of Holyroodhouse. Yes, it’s commercial, but it’s not for the monarch’s personal gain - it’s to help preserve the Royal Collection without resorting wholly to the British taxpayer. Here’s the Royal Collection Shop homepage.They actually have some really nice - albeit touristy - stuff.Note the offerings - particularly Food Hall, Chinaware, Homeware - and compare it to the ARO trademark application, which covers the same areas.Assuming that Meghan does plow on with her venture - which I think is much more difficult and capital-intensive than she might’ve thought (if any thought had gone into it at all) - and is looking to have similar offerings, then she’d be up against jams presumably from a decent source; china made in Stoke-on-Trent, the home of English bone china; linen of good quality.Or perhaps Meghan’s looking to provide a platform, like Amazon, and allow individual sellers to flog their wares through her. This means that she’ll be counting on her (cough) celebrity to bring in customers. If only bots could shop!Note: The (then) Prince of Wales’s Duchy Originals line now partners with British supermarket chain Waitrose and to the extent that it’s marketed as Waitrose Duchy Organic. As I understand it, Waitrose more or less operates it, but royalties still go to charity. post link: https://ift.tt/gdKcziu author: Mickleborough submitted: March 21, 2024 at 05:16PM via SaintMeghanMarkle on Reddit disclaimer: all views + opinions expressed by the author of this post, as well as any comments and reblogs, are solely the author's own; they do not necessarily reflect the views of the administrator of this Tumblr blog. For entertainment only.

23 notes · View notes

leeahqueen · 5 months

Text

The echoes wave (2\2)

Ayla: This way! Commandant!

At the other end of the coastal promenade of the Esplanade in Constareye, Ayla, Sophia and Teddy waved to me.

Skk: Is it really something to be excited about?

While I was still climbing the stairs, Ayla and the others had already reached the observation deck at the end of the corridor.

After parting with Lucia and Liv on the beach, I met Ayla and Sophia in the city of Constareye, as well as Teddy from the engineering force that Ayla had just called.

Probably because Constareye is now co-managed by the Art Association, Ayla's original vitality appears to be even more abundant in this city.

But this was only a brief glimpse into a passionate time.

Ayla: Of course! After all, this is a rare opportunity to see the sea--

After saying that, Ayla made a rather exaggerated gesture and pulled herself to the viewing platform at the end of the corridor.

Beyond the observation deck on this corridor is the beach that where I left Liv and Lucia.

Nowadays, this beach has been decorated with so many colorful decorations, and among the silhouettes of people, there is actually a bit of urban prosperity.

In the middle of the beach, directly in front of the water corridor leading to the stage in the sea, Liv and Lucia ware waving to them, and there were many structures standing beside them.

Skk: What on earth is this...

Ayla showed a sly smile.

Ayla: Commandant doesn't want to miss it either, right?

Skk: That's true.

Teddy: Really... you unbelievably passionate about this.

Sophia: Do you mean Miss Ayla?

Teddy: Yes... you don't feel tired at all? Then it seems that you are very suitable to come to the engineering force to suffer...

Ayla: Did you hear that?

Sophia: Miss Ayla's event planning skills are indeed outstanding, and she can also meet business needs at the same time.

Teddy: Hah alright, let's go...

Ayla: That's right, Liv and the others should have just finished decorating.

Skk: So Ayla planned all these things?

Ayla: Yes... and no.

Ayla: I'm just the person in charge! This sentiment is shared by everyone.

Sophia: Of course, this intention must also include wanting to design a frame...

Ayla: Okay, okay! Let's go, Commandant!

Ayla: Oh, right!

Ayla suddenly said to me slightly seriously.

Ayla: Don't forget that frame design draft.

Skk: You mean...

Teddy: Hah... Okay! Let's go...

Just like that, I was pushed by Ayla from behind, and led by Sophia and Teddy, I returned to the beach where I started.

Nowadays, the beach has been decorated with various colorful latte art, and there is also a "commercial street" with many small items and souvenirs.

Sure enough, in addition to Liv and Lucia, Strike Hawk, Dark Aries and other members of the team also came to Constareye.

Chrome: Evening, Commandant.

Kamui: Good Evening!

As he said this, Kamui suddenly appeared from the side of the beach stage like a surprise, holding a lot of victory fruits that were obviously obtained from the claw machine.

Skk: What's the result?

Kamui: I've been wanting for a long time, so I had to grab this one.

Kamui: Just now, some mechanical body told me that this result has broken the highest record in history, and this should be given to the Commandant!

Chrome: Ahem... We've only just arrived.

Chrome: I caught up with the last two space shuttles, and I remembered there was also the Egret team...

Skk: It is indeed a very rare rest period--

Pulao: Commandant!

Skk: Is Pulao here too?

Pulao: Of course! I have agreed to open a commercial street with Sophia and Changyu!

Skk: Right here?

Sophia: No, no! This is just a trial run! At best it can only be regarded as a branch of a commercial street!

Sophia: How can you make money on such a small scale?

Boom---

---A dull explosion suddenly sounded above the head---

???: Hey, 21, aren't you a little early?

???: There's something wrong with Noctis's gunpowder ratio...

???: Impossible! Absolutely impossible!

???: Has Noctis lost his brain? Shouldn't fireworks be set off at night?

It's a bit noisy, but that's okay.

At least on this season, you can still see smiles and satisfaction on everyone's face.

Liv: Commandant, you are back.

Lucia: Commandant...

Skk: Thank you for your hard work. Liv. Lucia.

Liv: We... just want to try our best to make this time as relaxing and enjoyable as possible.

Lucia: The bright seaside, the warm evening breeze... this is what the seaside should be like.

Lucia: It would be great if I could leave such a relaxing memory in the Commandant's memory.

Skk: I feel it already, Lucia.

Skk: What's next?

Liv: Of course, it is up to Commandant to decide.

Skk: Eh?

Liv: On days when there are no tasks or work, I hope that the Commandant can completely relax and enjoy this relaxation.

Liv: This is our wish.

Liv: And no matter where you are, Commandant, we will be here waiting for you.

The sun is still so warm, shining on this city like a treasure that seems to have been forgotten by disaster and time, on the beach, on Liv, Lucia, myself, and those familiar friends.

When the time comes that truly belongs to me, I don't know how to use it.

So where to go...

[Maybe I can go to that beach suitable for diving and look for it.]

[It's not a bad idea to just stay and relax like this.]

[The art park that Ayla led the way through just now?]

Just follow my own footsteps, there's still plenty of time to rest.

READ: INTRO-1 | INTRO-2 |NOAN-1 | NOAN-2

#punishing gray raven #pgr noan #pgr lee #pgr liv #pgr lucia #pgr ayla

22 notes · View notes

magnetothemagnificent · 1 year

Text

It's Mar Cheshvan, the most "bitter" of all the months of the year, so to cheer everyone up I'm going to do a short review of what happens when you search for Judaica on Aliexpress. I'm gonna got with only the first four results.

So let's start:

Alright so the first out of the first four results:

Alright. So, no obvious Messianic symbols on this one. I like the colours, and there's no Christian words in the title. It also has the right number of branches for a proper Chanukiyah, and it looks like something I'd like to own if it was actually good quality, which I doubt.

10/10 for this one.

Well, obviously this one is glaringly obvious. That's seven branches, not nine, even though it claims to be for "Hanukkah". The 12 Tribes motifs are nice, it's just too bad that it can't actually be used for Chanukah. No Messianic symbols or language on this one though, so that's at least the bare minimum.

6/10. You may think that's a little high, but for Aliexpress this isn't too bad.

Well. Well. First of all, this Challah cover isn't my personal taste, but it's actually a Breslover Challah cover. The fire symbol and the phrase "תוקד עד ביאת משיח", which means "My fire burns until the coming of Mashiach" is a Breslover motto. Which of course makes it all the more offensive that the title of this product has the phrase "Church Souvenirs". This is gross, and also shows blatent plagierism which Aliexpress is notorious for.

0/10

Hm. Well, I mean it's obvious this is Messianic even without looking at the title. The plus side is that it's made out of cheap metal, which means that whoever buys this garbage will get green tarnish stains all over their neck from wearing it. And, maybe I'll give this one a point just for making me giggle thinking of people wasting their money on this product and just ruining their skin with the cheap metal.

1/10, just for the thought of these people getting those annoying green tarnish stains.

Anyway.....don't buy judaica from aliexpress or any cheap novelty website. Support other Jews and get your Judaica ware from verified Jewish artists and sellers. But this was fun.

[id in alt text]

#product review #jumblr #funny #if jew know jew know #messies

182 notes · View notes

immortalmsmoon · 6 months

Note

Yusuke w an s/o who likes to surprise him w hugs pls!!!! I think that’d be soooo cute lol

Suprise!

A/N: Again, i am so sorry these have been taking so long, i've been so busy ;-;

I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: None!

Word count: 469

at first, it definitely took him by suprise, mostly just because he's not used to being hugged

The first couple of times it TOTALLY threw him off, and he didn't really hug back because he was kind of just sitting there in shock

After he starts to get used to it, he's always ready for a hug

when you wrap your arms around him from behind, he'll give your arms a squeeze, or intertwine your fingers

when hugging him from the front, he'll softly rest his head on yours and wrap his arms around you

sometimes you guys will sway a little from side to side

if you run up to him he'll catch you and rest his head on your shoulder as you guys hug

It had been 5 days.

Your boyfriend had been in Hawaii for 5 days.

You, on the other hand, had been forced to stay home instead of going on the trip as well, because you were sick the day of the flight. At first you didn't think it was that bad. You would call eachother when you could, and he would promise every time to bring back a souvenir for you.

But now? you were grumpy and irritable. it may have been 5 days, but it sure felt like 5 weeks.

you were waiting impatiently at the airport, Yusuke's plain having just landed. Your patients was waring thinner and thinner by the second, and you tapped your foot on the ground as you waited in your chair. He couldn't be that much longer, right?

Wrong.

A flight attendant announced over the speaker that there had been some internal issues on the flight that your boyfriend was still on, and that it would be at least another 20 minutes before they could get of the plain.

You frowned, sighing loudly. You and Yusuke texted back and forth, you complaining about the wait, and him comforting you and telling you that it wouldn't be that much longer.

soon enough, you saw his face peek out the "Arrivals" door, and that was all it took to send you running.

you leaped from your chair, running as fast as you could in his direction, not caring if you knocked into other people. he barley had time to put down his bags before you were in his arms.

he held you tight as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He held your thigh for support, one arm still around you. You buried your face into his shoulder, breathing in his scent of soft vanilla, and clean clothes.

you settled into his arms, breath evening out as you got comfortable with him. the two of you whispered "I missed you"'s and "i love you"'s to one another, and for the first time in the five days he had been gone, you smiled.

#persona 5 #persona 5 x reader #yusuke #yusuke kitagawa #yusuke kitagawa x reader #p5

35 notes · View notes

transparentgentlemenmarker · 6 months

Text

L’effroyable destin de l’arbre de Robin des bois - 28 Minutes (23/10/2023) - Regarder l’émission complète | ARTE

L'arbre Sycamore Gap, isolé au pied de deux collines dans un paysage spectaculaire, se trouvait tout près du mur d'Hadrien, érigé à l'époque romaine pour empêcher l'invasion des barbares, un site classé au patrimoine mondial de l'Unesco. En 2016, il avait été élu «arbre de l'année».

Dans le film Robin des Bois, sorti en 1991, on voyait Kevin Costner et Morgan Freeman marcher devant cet arbre impressionnant, qui faisait le bonheur des randonneurs dans le nord-est de l'Angleterre.

C'était l'un des arbres les plus photographiés du Royaume-Uni. Mais jeudi 28 septembre 2023, des promeneurs ont découvert sa souche à nu. Et le reste de l'arbre couché sur le mur. Le gestionnaire du parc national a rapidement déclaré qu'il avait été «délibérément abattu». La police de Northumbria, qui a ouvert une enquête, a annoncé jeudi après-midi l'arrestation d'un adolescent de 16 ans. «Les dommages causés à l'arbre sont le résultat d'un acte de vandalisme délibéré», a-t-elle affirmé dans un communiqué. L'adolescent est en garde à vue. Les évènements d'aujourd'hui ont provoqué le choc, la tristesse et la colère», a souligné le directeur de la police Kevin Waring. Plusieurs habitants de la région se sont rendus sur les lieux, comme pour rendre hommage au Sycamore Gap. Des fleurs ont même été déposées près de la souche, devant le cordon de sécurité mis en place par la police. «J'éprouve un réel sentiment de perte», a dit Tony Gates, le directeur de la Northumberland National Park Authority, le gestionnaire du parc national. «Nous avons eu des gens en larmes aujourd'hui», a-t-il ajouté. «Nous avons été submergés par les messages sur les réseaux sociaux, sur notre site, de personnes sincèrement touchées par cette perte». L'organisation pour la protection du patrimoine National Trust s'est dite, sur X (ex-Twitter), «choquée et désespérément triste». «Nous savons combien cet arbre est aimé par les locaux, au niveau national, et par tous ceux qui l'ont vu». Cet arbre est «un élément important et emblématique du paysage depuis près de 200 ans», a ajouté le directeur du National Trust, Andrew Poad. De nombreuses personnes, notamment des membres de groupes de randonnée, ont partagé leur consternation et leurs souvenirs heureux près de l'arbre, sur place et sur les réseaux sociaux. «C'est une honte que quelqu'un soit venu pour vandaliser ce beau coin de la nature», a dit Ryan Knotman, un technicien de 40 ans. Au début de l'année, j'étais assise en train de faire du crochet au sommet de la colline pendant que mon mari et mon fils grimpaient sur la paroi à côté de l'arbre, un homme a expliqué avoir demandé sa femme en mariage au pied du Sycamore Gap. Selon Tony Gates, certains ont même dispersé ici les cendres de leur proche décédé. La députée locale Mary Foy a dénoncé un «acte de vandalisme bête» et «déchirant» d'un lieu iconique du Nord-Est de l'Angleterre

#l'arbre de robin des bois #sycamore

25 notes · View notes

lindastylesartpottery · 1 year

Text

Body adornment collaboration.

nt_screen/FB:SCREEN:FB

View On WordPress

#come up and see me sometime #Cornwall #decorative #experimental #female #sentimental #souvenir wares #textual #visual

0 notes

safely-in-vhagars-belly · 6 months

Text

SandStorm (DarkAemond x Oc/Reader!)

(Cool devider credits!!:) @) dingusfreakhxrrington

🔷Summary: You are Elna/Reader Martell and before you marry you go on a vacation to the land that always held a close space to your heart: The Six Kingdoms. You become the captive of Aemond Targaryen.

WORDCOUNT: 3275

🔷Author's note: This was a request, this is my first time writing any Dornish oc, I tried making her a bit as Oberyn (Curious to the world, bold) but also still her own character. I hope the anon who requested her liked her, I tried making her not a total push-over as in some of my fics.

🔷Warnings: Arranged marriages, Dead, gore, bodies, slight dub-con, no smut, kidnapping, hostage taking, and slight judgement against Dornish characters (One innkeeper thinks shes a thief) oh and eating rat-meat.

Your whole life has been about living in Sunspear, the castle in Dorne. Living a sheltered life, away from the dangers of the six Kingdoms, away from the doom, the dragons and the death that Targaryens inflicted upon their subjects.

You were a spectator from afar, unbothered with the politics of any kind, both from Dorne and outside.

Until your father, Prince Quoren Martell, planned to marry you off. And that is where your story starts.

—--

Your fingers absently play with the sigil ring of your house, as you pull the cloak a bit further over your dark, dornish locks, covering up as a shiver runs down your spine.

Your sworn shield, Oryn, walks a few paces behind you, keeping a close eye on both you and the market stalls you pass.

You run from stall to stall, taking in the wares of the sellers, throwing golden coins at their tables before whisking away necklaces, rings, to you foreign foods and other souvenirs that will hopefully fill the hole left in your soul. A hole caused by the one you loved so dearly, your father.

You never disrespected his wishes, never tried anything too dangerous, but now he is planning to sell you to a Spice lord or someone in Essos, in return for a fleet. According to your mother, it is the fate of any woman to eventually be sold to the highest bidder. You spit on that idea, and on the men.

You put a new gold with orange necklace in your pocket, eagerly looking for your next target when Oryn approaches you. He too, is disguised but certainly still armed with his trusty sword. ‘’My lady, surely you have purchased enough? Most of these necklaces are too overpriced for their value. The gemstones are coloured glass.’’ It is true, any fool would tell you the same. The gold is painted iron, if not copper, and the gemstones are glass and fragile. You have been dressing in the finest silks and jewelry for years by now. You would recognize a fraud if it was in front of you.

Your lips slowly creep into a smile.‘’I quite like the way the glass shimmers, pretending to be a gemstone. I have experience with that.’’ You tell him, with a wink.

You walk to another stand, taking a piece of meat on a stick from a vendor, before paying them. You scrape it loose from the stick with your teeth, and it's the best meat you ever tasted. ‘’Oryn, you have to try this.’’ You tell your shield as he does his best to hide his clear disgust, staring at his feet.

You put the stick on the table and leave the vendor, looking for your next target.

Oryn stutters, a bit distraught. ‘’That is rat, my lady.’’

You pretend to not care about that one bit.

‘’Really? We have been missing out, then.’’ A cry from above makes both your heads turn, and a gigantic monstrous creature with wings as tall as trees flies over the town, casting a shadow over the vendors, blocking out the sun for a mere moment.

Your heart stops beating for just one brief moment as you take in the majestic creature, soaring high above the skies, not a care in the world.

A dragon.

Your eyes widen at the sight. Oryn tackles you to the ground, protecting you with his body, from the dangerous dragon. ‘’My lady!’’ The dragon does not even notice you both, nor does its rider. The only ones who do notice you are the confused vendors and civilians. They already were suspicious of your strange golden coins, but now they are even more hostile. You get up from the dirty floors, feeling your scraped knees. Oryn mutters an apology as the dragon makes its way to the castle, without attacking anyone or anything.

‘’A thousand apologies, my lady. I thought for sure…’’ You curse, certain that most of the glass jars and trinkets you bought are now just useless shards in your bag. You throw the glass shards out of your bag.

Yet you understand why Oryn took the risk that he took. ‘’I understand. It does seem we made ourselves even more suspicious. My legs are tired, I think it is best we try to find a place to sit and to have a quick drink.’’

—-

Moments later, you are sitting in a strange but cozy room, with stone walls decorated with wood, paintings and tables that are still dirty from previous customers. The owner of the inn paid no attention to you, scowling the entire time as he took in your Dornish features, but accepted your money anyway. He is now polishing the same glass a dozen times over, when keeping a close eye on you and on Oryn.

Oryn comes back to your shared table with a large plate filled with potatoes, chicken and something that smells familiar. ‘’Rat!’’ You grin from ear to ear, when taking his plate. Oryn watches in disgust as you devour the meat on your plate, before beginning to eat your vegetables as well. Oryn has a plate of his own filled with mostly meat as well, which he devours too.

There is something about King’s Landing that you enjoy. Perhaps the simplicity of it all. You never felt more at home, so far away from home. The people of King’s Landing are interesting, unique folks with each a story to tell. You would pay a good coin to live here forever.

But your sworn shield has a bit more trouble adjusting himself. ‘’This is the capital. What do you think, Oryn?’’ You ask.

He thinks for a moment.‘’It smells.’’ He grumpily comments.

You roll your eyes, impaling another potato with your fork. ‘’Yes, but aside from that?’’

He sighs, deeply, looking around him in paranoia, failing to see the beauty you see. ‘’I don’t know, my lady. My gut tells me it was a bad idea to come here. My gut is never wrong.’’

‘’You’re just hungry.’’ You tell him with a smirk. You bring your cup of ale to his, cheering. ‘’We should celebrate our last trip together, before I become some lord’s property.’’

Yet Oryn has always been very protective of you. ‘’I still think this is a horrible idea. These people are at war with one another. They spill their own blood for a throne.’’He makes his voice soft.

You did hear about the civil war. There was a vendor at the square who sells silver-haired pillows and dolls to set on fire, pillows who are supposed to resemble ‘’Rhaenyra the cruel’’.

‘’Does that not intrigue you? Come on, where is your sense for adventure?’’ Part of you is joking. Another part is deadly serious.

‘’I lost that sense around the same time you were born.’’ He is jesting you can tell. He grabs your arms. ‘’Stay here. Don’t go with anyone, don’t tell anyone your real name. I need to piss.’’ He lets go of your arms, leaving you in the tavern.

When you are alone, you can’t shake the fears that quickly take a hold of you. Fears about your future in Essos. Fears of bedding a strange much older man, having his children and never seeing Sunspear or Dorne again. Never playing with your siblings in the watergardens, never running from palace guards or feeling sand under your feet. A single tear rolls down your left cheek, reminding you of a simple truth: You are homesick, and soon you won’t even be welcome there anymore.

Before you briefly sigh, lost in wonder. What you wouldn’t give to be a dragon, flying far away from this place and to nest somewhere warm, close to home, protecting your loved ones. A man turns around, smiling at you. He speaks, exposing his rotten teeth. ‘’Excuse me, Miss. You seem not from here. I was wondering if you liked for me to show you around the city a bit?’’ You force yourself to smile. The man has dark hair and grins. ‘’I can bring you to a dragon. For a price.’’ You raise an eyebrow at him, not sure. You sigh, moving tables and show him your well stuffed wallet. He nods before opening his mouth.

The man takes you with him to the streets of King’s landing, far away from the tavern and the inn you were staying in. You see many dangerous cloaked types of all sorts of work, assassins and brothelworkers alike. The man chuckles at your discomfort. ‘’This way, my lady. I’ll bring you to a dragon.’’ The man tells you, keeping his voice steady when you begin to question if it wasn’t a bad idea to follow a strange man claiming to have a dragon.

You stand still in front of an abandoned building somewhere close to what seems to be an orphanage. You regret not asking Oryn with you, he must be worried sick.

He gestures to the brown, wooden worn down door. ‘’The dragon is in there.’’ He tells you.

You toss him a golden coin before nodding to the building. ‘’You go first, then.’’

The man laughs at you, before nodding and entering the building. You follow after, curiously looking around for any dragons. The building is too small to host the big one that flew over, but surely they got a dragon somewhere? You hope so.

After looking around and the minutes and the rats pass you by, you begin to understand you made a grave mistake by trusting this stranger. Who knows what he wants from you? There are no dragons, for certain.

You run back to the door, but the man is faster. He grabs you by your arm, dragging you with him when you scream for help.

The man becomes annoyed with you, even hitting you to silence you across your face. ‘’Shut it, Dornish slut.’’ He warns you.

Chains are brought out and put around your hands, chaining you as some sort of animal. A door opens and a person makes themselves known by simply speaking. ‘’Gentle with her.’’ He speaks firm and clear, commanding the man. You chuckle in your head. Of course, this man was a ratcatcher. And you were his rat.

You briefly struggle in the chains as you are brought to the man, who remains where he is, not moving a inch as you are dragged over the moldy wood.‘’Who are you?’’ You demand, your voice unbowed, unbent, and unbroken.

He ignores you. He wears what seems to be castle forged armor, the pretty kind with golden details. But from where you stand you can’t see any of it. ‘’Put her on her knees.’’ He tells his pet.

The peasant obeys, forcing you to kneel before the man. You glare, infuriated by his treatment of you. Your scoff in disgust, refusing to beg or to cry for this pathetic man that would chain you up, instead of facing you with courage. The man nods to the peasant, hinting he may go now. The peasant leaves instantly. The man steps a bit closer, yet you can’t still make out his face, only hear his hypnotic voice. ‘’That is much better, now we can speak properly.’’ He says, as if you are long lost friends.

You take insult to that, and spit at his feet. He chuckles, not even slightly offended. ‘’O, Dornish temperament. I like it. I had a horse from Dorne, you know? I never liked the animal.’’ You don’t know why he is telling you of this, or why you are even here.

You grit your teeth. ‘’You would hate animals. Who are you?’’ He kicks against something, and you notice someone else laying face down next to you.

You see a familiar sword, drenched in blood followed by a familiar head, cut from his body. Fresh tears burn in your eyes as you can’t believe what you are seeing right in front of you.

‘’Oryn!’’ You cry out, trying to reach him. To your surprise, your attacker does not stop you, only watches as you shake the body of your sworn shield, and your friend. ‘’How is that possible? Oryn, wake up!’’ You beg, in tears as a little girl.

His scars and injuries betray he was severely tortured before, likely until he died. He died, protecting you. ‘’He is as dead as a doornail.’’ The man comments, not giving a fuck.

Whatever grief there is, is turned into rage before you can blink your eyes. ‘’You animal!’’ You vow revenge on him, in that very moment.

He chuckles, pulling the chain so you can’t move an inch. ‘’A-ah, Princess. I would most certainly advise against hurting me.’’ You are thankful for the lack of candles and daylight, because you are certain if he saw your face he would get suspicious. You tell yourself he doesn’t know. But he tortured Oryn. There is a chance he knows who you are.

He steps closer to you and you can finally make out the sharp long face that stares back at you, covered by a single eyepatch. But his hair is what terrifies you even more. Long, silver locks. ‘’You’re a Targaryen.’’ You stutter, as a foolish girl.

He grits his teeth, insulted. ‘’I’m insulted you don’t know who I am.’’ You huff at his boldness and rashness. How are you supposed to know who he is? Their names are as complicated as their lovely messed up family tree.

You raise a brow in rebellion, challenging him. ‘’Should I?’’

He makes a low, scoffing bow.

‘’Prince Aemond Targaryen.’’ You try to remember who that is, but you can’t really recall. He must not be a very famous or important Targaryen.

You blink, unfazed and unimpressed. ‘’Who?’’

Aemond scowls, offended once more and even deeper than the other time. ‘’Never even mind. I’m the brother of King Aegon.’’ You do know of Aegon. He sits on the throne. Well, one half of it. The other half is ruled by his sister, Rhaenyra.

You were interested in the war before but now that you are so close to it, you want to run. The Targaryen has other plans.

‘’You are far from home, little Dornish butterfly.’’ He murmurs, lifting your chin with his fingers. You notice there is blood on his fingers. ‘’Your daddy must miss you so dearly.’’ His voice is full of mockery and condescension. ‘’Little Princess.’’ He adds with a whisper in your ear, sending shivers down your spine when his hot breath runs down as fire on your collarbone.

You gulp, as it becomes clear he certainly knows who you are. ‘’You have me mistaken for another.’’ You lie, smoothly. You lie dozens of times. "I'm a poor orphan, nothing special about me."

Aemond simply walks back to the walls, before bringing forward a portrait. The portrait was commissioned on your latest nameday, and was done extraordinarily well. As if you looked into a mirror.

’Do I, Princess Elna of house Martell?’’He asks, pouting slightly, victory written in his good eye and a proud smirk on his lips.

You want to punch that man. You open your mouth, ready to tell him one horrible lie after the other.

But he doesn't let you talk. Not anymore. ‘’You can spare us both the energy: My men informed me the moment you were here when you set foot on shore.’’ they knew. All the time they knew you were here. They were likely waiting for an opportunity and took it.

And now, you are the prisoner of a Targaryen. The thing your ancestors fought so hard to avoid. ‘’What do you want with me?’’ You refuse to whimper or to let fear affect your voice. But your heart almost beats so loud he can hear it.

Prince Aemond Targaryen shrugs, putting the portrait away again. ‘’As luck would have it, I happen to be unmarried. I heard you were very unhappy in your arranged match.’’ He knows a lot about you, that information is very fresh.

You blink, smiling. ‘’Did you torture it out of my friend?’’ That must be it. He tortured your friend and shield and that is how he knows.

He sighs, as if he regrets something before shaking his head. ‘’No. He didn’t slip a word, not even when I had his eyeballs squeezed out. My compliments to whoever hired him. He was a lovely loyal man.’’

Your left eye twitches and you try once again to attack him. Aemond simply steps out of your reach, laughing when you try to hurt him with tears of rage and frustration rolling down both your cheeks. ‘’I will kill you for that.’’ You promise him. You vow it to him in the honor of your house.

Aemond scoffs, as if you are a harmless little kitten he found in a gutter somewhere. ‘’Oh, dear. I don’t think you are in the position to make any threats.’’ You hear a clear warning there. There is a line with him and you better not cross it.

He adds with a soft whisper, brushing your cheeks with his mouth when he finds your ear.

‘’In fact, it looks awfully bleak for you." You have the horrible feeling he might do something unspeakable.

‘’I lack a wife.’’ He speaks, taking your breasts in, and smiling as if picturing himself deep inside of you. Your mind forms incorrect and disturbing images.

You feel as if you are naked. You pretend to feel fine. Unbroken. ‘’I imagine that you do.’’ You sweetly smile.

He ignores your jab. ‘’You lack a husband. It is quite the simple sum.’’ To males it always is.

The answer leaves your mouth before you can think of the true consequences. ‘’I'd rather die. You want a whore, go buy one.’’

Aemond moves his mouth from your ears to your neck slowly nibbling on it when biting harder, just enough to make you whimper. He grins satisfied with the sounds. ‘’Hm. And witty too. I will have my work cut out for me, when I marry you.’’ You huff, confused as to why you liked what he did with you.

You can't believe you are playing this card but you must. ‘’You can’t, I’m betrothed to some spice lord, remember?’’

Aemond Targaryen changes from man to monster in front of you and chuckles, scoffing at your stupidity. ‘’You think I give a fuck about promises?’’ He is right. The pact might as well not exist to Aegon’s kingdom, if anything they would be happy to thwart to avoid giving Dorne more power.

You look away, at a loss for words at the first time in your life. He grabs you by the throat, roughly before smirking deeply and disturbed. His eyes are empty and you see no humanity or kindness or any human emotions. ‘’You are still very naive, for a girl your age. Don’t worry. I’ll teach you soon enough.’’ You feel an unpleasant warmth spread between your legs as your mind begins to think of double meanings of learning how to be less naive.

But your heart bleeds for Oryn. You know you can't become Aemond’s wife for dozens of reasons. It will be a war.

‘’What do you even hope to accomplish by marrying me?’’ You ask and you are terrified for the answer. You see the bloodlust and greed in his eye, brought out by your question.

Aemond answers, softly pecking you on your left cheek, causing you to blush deeply. He grins when moving his fingers over your face, caressing you gently. ‘’Why, conquering Dorne, of course.’’

44 notes · View notes

7-wonders · 1 year

Text

Walk the Line

Michael Langdon x Reader (Mad Love Act II, Chapter IX)

Summary: The time has come to meet Papa Legba, but before that, you and Michael have some fun in the Big Easy.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author's Note: It's the fic that everybody constantly asks for but nobody ever interacts with, Mad Love! Sigh. I think this is a good one, but let me know your thoughts! Likes, comments, and reblogs make my world go round.

Mad Love Masterlist

Showering after a long plane ride, no matter how comfortable and, dare you say, bougie, said plane ride is, does a world of good for the soul. By the time Michael’s finally beginning to get a little impatient (which, for Michael, is pacing back and forth and getting just a little closer to the door every time), you’re feeling refreshed and like you can actually stand to be around people.

Michael’s started switching up his wardrobe, and you’re pleased to see that he’s continuing that trend here in New Orleans. He looks alluring in a wine-colored, button down, short-sleeved shirt. His arms–yes, you can see his arms, and yes, it’s incredibly distracting and makes you want nothing more than to take the shirt off of him–are lightly tanned, completing the “California boy” look that he sports so effortlessly. He leans casually against the wall, his black jeans tucked into a pair of Doc Martens. Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

“You ready to go?” You grin, checking your lipstick in the mirror one more time before flipping the bathroom light off. “I’ve been waiting on you for ages.”

He knows that you’re just teasing him, but he can’t resist taking the bait and scoffing. “What? I’ve been the one waiting for you!”

“Whatever you need to say to make yourself feel better.”

“You’re infuriating.” Regardless, he holds his hand out for you to take. “C’mon, we’re not far from where I want to take you, so we’ll walk there.”

Exactly where you walk is an open-air market that’s one of the most vibrant markets you’ve ever been to. Music of all kinds plays from the different booths and storefronts, all types of wares are being sold around you, and there’s so much delicious-smelling food that it makes your head spin. You almost drift off into the crowds without Michael, forgetting that he’s even with you until you’re stopped because you’re still holding onto his hand and he hadn’t been expecting you to walk away.

He stands next to you at each booth you walk to, always right there should you need him but quiet enough that you keep forgetting he’s actually still here. This proves handy, because then you can ask him his opinion of different items that you’re looking at, including the woven bracelet that you now hold up to show him.

“Do you think Kate would like this?” you ask.

When you had told her of your Fall Break plans and asked her to watch your cat, Kate had jokingly asked for a keychain souvenir as payment. You had been planning on buying a gift for her anyways, but now that she was doing you a favor, you had to get her the perfect thank you gift.

“She wore that friendship bracelet you two made when you had your drunk sleepover until it literally fell off,” Michael notes with a cheeky smirk. Said bracelet was just three pieces of embroidery floss clumsily braided together that didn’t last long, but his point is taken. “Yes, I think she’ll like it and wear it all the time.”

“Hmm.” You look at the bracelet again, which looks like somebody harnessed a rainbow and wove it together into a circle, before nodding. “You’re right.”

As you make the purchase, you’re pretty sure you hear Michael mutter behind you that he’s “always right,” but you choose to let him have his little snide, secretive comment.

Half of the fun of going to this type of market, you realize as you walk and window shop with Michael, is the experience in itself. There’s something so fun and unique about getting to look at all of the goods and wares created by so many different people, people who all have lives and stories that have led them here to this moment. They’ve spent years perfecting the craft that they now display for you to look at and enjoy, and the shared human connection of it all is so special.

Another fun part of markets is all of the food, and as you pass a booth and smell the sweet dough, you gasp in delight and pull Michael to a stop. “Ooh, beignets!”

Naturally, you have to place an order at the stall being run by an uninterested kid who couldn’t be older than 16 and is obviously being forced into helping out by family; that’s how you know it’s going to be good before you’ve even laid eyes on your food. When they put your order down unceremoniously in front of you, a basket of little golden-brown pastries dusted liberally with powdered sugar, you thank them before grabbing it and immediately popping a beignet in your mouth. It’s a little too hot, but you’d rather breathe awkwardly like a dragon for a few moments than let that deter you.

“Mmm!” Michael watches you enjoy the treat, and you hold out the little paper container towards him. “Here, try one.”

“What does it taste like?” Michael asks a little apprehensively.

“It’s a pastry with powdered sugar on top, Michael, I can guarantee you’re going to love it.”

Though he looks a little like he thinks you’re going to poison him (which, if you were, wouldn’t you have done so already?), he takes a small bite of the treat that you’re holding directly in front of his mouth. After chewing for a moment, he grabs the beignet and eats the other half of it, making you smirk in satisfaction. You know your husband, even if he likes to act like you don’t.

Taking a seat on an empty bench, you share the beignets in companionable silence as you watch the colors of the setting sun streak across the sky above you. When you’ve finished, you ball up the empty container and toss it into the trash can next to you before resuming people watching. Families, couples, friends; all different types of people, gathered here to enjoy the same event as you.

“What are the little lights flying around?” Michael asks finally, dusting his hands off of powdered sugar remnants.

You look at where he’s gesturing, to the lights beginning to blink on and off intermittently in the grass now that the sun is well and truly setting. “They’re fireflies.”

A couple of kids run in front of you, hands outstretched as they try to catch the fireflies. The act reminds you of your own childhood, and you smile fondly at the memory. The warm air on your skin, the ambiance of the market, and having the love of your life right next to you make you wish that you could bottle up this moment and keep it with you forever.

With this sentiment in mind, you can’t help but note, “It’s so beautiful here.”

“It is,” Michael agrees. “Tulane’s a pretty good school too, from what I’ve heard.”

He’s right, but that’s besides the point, and you look at him in surprise. “You’ve been researching grad schools for me?”

“I figured I’d look, maybe try and help to be a part of this process.”

“Michael, that’s really sweet of you.”

Michael shrugs, suddenly bashful. “It’s definitely not a selfless act. I don’t want to hate wherever we end up living for the next three years.”

“Well obviously. Still, I very much appreciate it.” He can try and act like there’s no goodness in him, but you know there is, and that he didn’t even think of himself when looking at schools. No, he wants to make sure that you have the best opportunity available, and you can’t thank him enough. “You’d like New Orleans?”

“It’d be a big change from California, but I think so.”

Standing up, you smile at Michael’s bemused look and use the skills that have lied dormant since childhood. You take a couple of quick steps into the grass and, choosing to attack from above, swipe your hands down and cup them around a firefly. When you peek between your fingers and see that faint glow, you walk back to Michael.

“Here, hold out your hands,” you instruct. He does so hesitantly, holding them open just enough for you to dump your catch into his waiting grasp.

When he looks into his palms to see a fat firefly lazily buzzing around, his face lights up. It’s near-instantaneous, a childlike joy that only you’re privy to see from him, and you feel so lucky that you can. His eyes shine, both physically from the light as well as emotionally from the excitement. It’s addicting; you’d catch a thousand fireflies for him, if this is how he would react every time you presented him with your bounty.

The firefly finally figures out how to leave its little corral, and you both watch it make its way back to the other fireflies lingering in the grass. Michael traces one of his palms with his fingertips, chasing after the phantom sensations left behind by the insect.

“You should try and catch one!” you encourage Michael.

He actually looks like he’s about to take your advice, until his phone buzzes and he pulls it out to see that the alarm he set is going off. It’s 8:45, which means that date night is over and it’s time to get down to business.

“Maybe next time,” he says in a tone that suggests he’s a little bummed that he can’t grab his own firefly. For Michael, unfortunately, his divine purpose must come first.

He takes your hand in his again, and you walk back towards the main road. Everything about your trip must be pretty centrally located; Michael’s too fond of transmutation to not use it at every opportunity, and the only time he doesn’t is when he can enjoy the quick journey.

“Are you nervous?” Michael asks suddenly.

“For tonight?”

He shakes his head. “No. To graduate and launch into another phase of your life.”

It’s very easy to forget that Michael isn’t like you and that he didn’t share in the panic-inducing (almost) universal experiences of graduating high school and realizing that you’re an adult and responsible for your own choices now. “Of course I am. Applying in itself is nerve wracking, and if I decide to go to school in a completely new area? That’s terrifying. But I’m also excited, and that’s mainly because I’m going to have you there with me to experience all of it–the good and the bad, though hopefully there’s not a lot of bad.”

“I don’t have precognition, but I still foresee a lot of good in our future.”

You don’t say it, but you just hope there’s a future for you that doesn’t involve nuclear winter.

The lights are off at Dinah’s production company, making it look, for all intents and purposes, closed for the night. Either Dinah left the front door unlocked or Michael uses his magic, because the door opens easily when Michael pulls on the handle and lets you walk in before him.

The Voodoo Queen of New Orleans is waiting for you when you step inside, her face lit by the street lamps outside. She’s in an outfit different from what she wore when you were here earlier in the afternoon; though the fabric remains just as crazy, even you can feel the magic imbued within each stitch. Her ritual clothes, then.

“Lock the door behind you,” Dinah commands. Michael does as she asks, and you can hear the lock click into place. After he does this task, she nods and gestures for you to follow. “Let’s go, I got places to be after this.”

Dinah leads you both into her dressing room and through the door that she had come through when you first arrived here earlier in the day. It’s smaller than her dressing room, and obviously used for rituals. Candles are set up on the tables and stands around the room, and the main table, ringed with four chairs, is covered in brightly-colored cloth. A variety of different items sit on its surface, waiting to be used by the woman herself.

Michael pulls out a chair for you to sit in, and you settle yourself onto the seat before he pushes your seat back up against the table and sits down next to you. At the door, Dinah is writing some sort of runes on the wood with chalk. When she finishes with what you assume is a protection charm, she pulls a pack of matches from the pocket of her skirt and begins to light each candle in the room individually. Even with your limited knowledge of the subject, you know that pyromancy is a skill that most magic users master easily.

Sensing your confusion, Michael leans over so that he can whisper in your ear and explain, “It’s a part of the ritual.”

Once all of the candles are lit by her own hand, the woman sits down in the chair on Michael’s other side. She studies you harshly for a moment, making you squirm under her scrutiny, before looking at Michael. “You sure that you want your honey in here to meet Papa? After all, she’s nothing but a pretty little mortal.”

“Y/n is under my protection, which means she is under my father’s protection. Papa Legba cannot touch her soul. If she wants to be here, then she has every right to be here.”

You try to channel a bit of Michael’s confidence and level Dinah with what you hope is a convincing glare when you nod. Inside your pocket, however, you clutch the charm Mallory gave you tightly enough to leave imprints on your palm.

She shrugs. “Alright then. Your funeral, baby girl.”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t terrified to witness whatever is about to happen, especially after the Cordelia summoning went so incredibly wrong. But will you allow your husband’s reluctant ally to know that? Hell no.

Dinah holds out her hand to Michael, who gives his over freely. She turns it so it’s facing palm-up, and takes a deep breath in before beginning to knock on his wrist. After she does so, she places her wrist against his briefly before swiping up a bottle of liquor from the table. The amber liquid is poured into a copper mug, Dinah bringing the mug up to above her head in order to pray to it.

“Papa Legba,” she begins. “Ouvrier barrier pour moi agoe.”

This chant is repeated twice more, but it only takes her invoking him the second time for the shadow of a tall figure wearing what looks to be a top hat to rise against the blank canvas of the wall. As Dinah chants one last time, a cold wind sweeps through the room and brings with it an echoing, deep laugh and the sound of bones clinking together. You grab onto Michael’s hand for reassurance, but reassurance is not what you get when you look at him and see his eyes completely swallowed by black.

Papa Legba looks like a man, but carries an energy that lets anybody and everybody know that he is so much more than just a man. He’s dressed finely, wearing a suit and carrying a walking stick. The top hat that sits on top of his long dreadlocks is decorated with tiny skulls and feathers. A necklace made of beads and claws rests around his neck, and his long cloak sweeps along the floor. White paint covers the top half of his dark face, and his eyes are blood red.

He takes the cup from out of Dinah’s grasp with his own bejeweled hand, his long, pointed fingernails lingering against her skin as he does. Papa Legba drains the liquor from the cup, sighing deeply in satisfaction after he does so. The entire time, Dinah watches in open-mouthed awe, an acolyte faced with the presence of that which she worships faithfully.

“Dinah Stevens! Calling upon me so soon after our last…chat, eh?” He looks down at a couple of cigars sitting on top of a decorative silver plate and hums. “Mm, lucky for you that I cannot resist Cuban cigars, Mambo.”

The empty cup is discarded for one of the cigars, which he holds to his nose in order to properly enjoy it before scratching one of his nails against the end and lighting it. The cherry glows red as he takes a couple of deep puffs, the air growing hot around you as you watch the way that the shadows surrounding him morph in a sentient-like way that shadows most definitely should not be able to move.

Papa Legba takes a seat in the chair next to you, stretching out languidly in a way that reminds you of a cat. In response, you scooch your own chair just a little bit closer to Michael, your heart thundering in your chest.

“The Antichrist – and his little wife!” Papa Legba greets, his voice echoing and layering on top of itself.

Michael nods in a show of deference, and you do the same. “Papa Legba,” Michael says, his voice sounding an octave lower and echoing just as Papa’s does.

“I am sorry that I could not attend the wedding festivities, mes chers.” He grins at both of you, his gold tooth glinting in the candlelight. “A little drama with your papa, you see. But the entire Underworld was very much abuzz at news of the nuptials, I assure you.”

“We appreciate your well wishes.” Instead of saying anything, you simply nod and smile as a companion to Michael’s statement. You’re sure it looks as forced as it feels. “I assume you know why I asked Dinah to facilitate this meeting?”

He shakes his head, but the smirk on his face gives you the feeling that he knows exactly why he’s here. “I haven’t the faintest idea.”

“You’ve abandoned your post,” Michael reminds him.

“Oh, that!”

“Yes, that.”

“I will be honest, Mr. Langdon, this was the outcome I was hoping to achieve as a result of my actions.”

“There are easier ways to arrange a meeting with me.” Michael smiles meanly, thanks to his demonic nature. “But that’s neither here nor there. Why did you want to meet?”

You and Dinah glance at each other from across the table, both relegated to silent observers as the other two parties in the room get down to business.

“The lords of Hell are not too pleased with the current plans. Ending the world?” Papa Legba tuts and shakes his head. “Now, that just takes all of the fun out of everything. Who will barter with me when the only souls left on Earth are devoted followers of Satan or half-dead?”

“Ah, so you’re the messenger.”

“I’ll confess, I have been sent by my fellow demons to attempt to sway you. For some reason, they think that I am the best public speaker.” He puts a hand to his chest as if he’s touched by the sentiment.

“And how are you attempting to sway me?”

“My dear boy, I am here to convince you not to start an apocalypse.”

The moment he finishes his sentence, Michael’s anger causes the flames of the candles to burn brightly towards the ceiling. Though Papa Legba tries not to act affected by the show of power, you can see how even the shadows begin to cower away from their master in fear.

Out of all the possible reasons Papa Legba could have given for wanting to meet with Michael, this was one that you never even imagined. Literal demons are on your side when it comes to the apocalypse issue? You thought that they would have loved nothing more than to have free reign on Earth, but the point raised by Papa, of their entire purpose being annihilated along with the world were Michael to end it, is intriguing. Still, you try to feign disinterest, especially seeing how pissed Michael is. If he were to find out that you agreed, especially now, then the only thing certain about his reaction is that it would not at all be good.

“I don’t know whether to call this bold or stupid,” Michael says. “Attempting to organize a coup, with the knowledge and support of the one diametrically opposed to your plans? It’s certainly unique, I’ll tell you that.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong. This is not a coup, Mr. Langdon. Rather, a plea. I wish to lay out our case, and you may decide what you will do with that information.”

Michael looks like he’d enjoy nothing more than sending Papa Legba right back to the Underworld. In a show of restraint, however, he sits back in his chair and nods. “Go on, then.”

“We understand the logic behind Satan’s desire to end the world in a blaze of fire. It’s…poetic, in a way, and it would give him finality in the battle he’s been waging with Heaven since the moment he fell. However, think about what happens after the world ends! The hierarchy of Hell and the Underworld–poof! Gone! There is no more bartering to be done, no more corrupting to do, no more souls to claim. The human race will be basically extinct, and without our function, we–that is, demons–will cease to exist. Hell will likely cease to exist.”

This makes a lot of sense, actually. If there is nobody around to invoke Papa Legba and attempt to trade with him, then Papa Legba serves no use to the grand scheme of the universe. Much in the way that the old gods faded from reality as they simultaneously faded from the minds and beliefs of those who once called themselves followers, the creatures that populate the Underworld would have nobody to fear or believe in them.

“Therefore, I must ask you to think of the potential consequences and find another way to accomplish what Satan has tasked you to do.” A puff of cigar smoke is inhaled deeply by Papa Legba before he breathes it out again in a perfect ring, physically putting a period at the end of his speech.

Michael tilts his chin up in response, his expression one of defiance and rage. “I will fulfill my birthright and the plans that my father has been preparing me for, and nothing will stop that. Not you, and not if all the legions of Hell were to band together.”

“That just might have to be arranged, then.” Papa Legba stands, towering over your little group once more.

You get the feeling that this is what he had expected of this meeting, which doesn’t do your nerves much good. What’s Plan B for demons, when Plan A involves shirking their responsibilities as gatekeeper between the worlds?

Taking the last cigar that had been offered to him, Papa Legba slides it up the sleeve of his coat until it disappears. When he looks at Michael, he grins and laughs. “Until next time, Antichrist.”

With a gust of wind and the clinking of bones, he turns and melts into his shadows. Still, the heat remains, and you realize then that it’s Michael, still furiously glowering at the spot just occupied by one of Hell’s highest-ranking demons, that’s the source. As you fruitlessly call his name and try to get his attention, doing anything you can to bring him back from the demon that currently inhabits his body with no signs of relinquishing it any time soon, you think about just how foolish your earlier hopes of a normal future with Michael had been. As of right now, it appears that if Michael has his way, even the demons of Hell will be annihilated by the nuclear bombs, and sooner rather than later.

Shit.

•••

Tag List: @thatonehumanbeing05 @michaellangdon @xavierplympton @hecohansen31 @blakescoven @wroteclassicaly @we-did-it-joe @codycrazy @love-on-the-murder-scene @michaellangdonswhore @nsainmoonchild @langdonsjoyy @aftertheglitterfades @ferndolan @iamlivingforturner @moonlike33 @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @angiestopit @littleangel4996 @xo-angel-ox

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon imagines #american horror story imagine #american horror story #american horror story imagines #american horror story #ahs imagines #ahs imagine #ahs #mad love musings

77 notes · View notes

pan-flute-skeleton · 24 days

Text

More Tailwind characters and details

@yugonora-comic @cruisingheightswithdragons Wanted to give some of the other/minor characters a few details that add to the Tailwind community. I'd also like to add that when I visualize Tailwind, and Lough together, I'm picturing a version of Napa Valley. Beautiful sprawling vineyards with a whole community built around it. Yellow City being a little more developed like the neighboring San Francisco.

Lord Noah Blodogtårer: Tailwind's leader. Inspired alot by General Ironwood fro. RWBY. Third generation leader of Tailwind, he has seen the village become stagnant. After his father passed and he ascended, Lord Blodogtårer made it his mission to make Tailwind a formidable economic source. Has been in communication with the leaders from Lough and Yellow City and is a great negotiator. So motivated to improve his village that he looses sight of the world around him. Can lead to more environmental and socio-politcal issues. But at his core, he cares so deeply for people. Has a wife and two children, a boy and a girl. It is not known his stance on monsters.

Alice Ahlman: Export coordinator and representative. Close in age to Vivi, early to mid 30s. Well traveled and brings back souvenirs for the Skarsgårds. Carries a knife on her at all times, a habit she picked up in her travels. Friendly but will be cautious with new people. Great saleswoman when it comes to selling Tailwind's wares. Knows how to read people and choose words wisely. Great storyteller to locals and will visit the healer's hut to tell stories to those too sick or injured to travel. Does not hate monsters but will sometimes stare.

Stefan Sjögren: Internal economy coordinator and representative. A young man, more than ten years younger than Vivi and Alice. Born and raised in Tailwind and is beloved by the locals. Knows everyone, makes it a point. Wants everyone to love him so he will do whatever the community asks. Which means fortifying their desires to not modernize. Feels bad for halting the process and making things difficult but hates the thought of Tailwind despising him. Tailwind is his world so he doesnt quite understand current affairs. Absolutely hates monsters and has rumored to have killed one or two.

Alice reference

Stefan reference

Lord Blodogtårer reference

#original character #vivi skarsgård #Yugo Nora #fan comic #new character #world building #community building #fantasy #magic #creature #character description #character design #medieval fantasy

6 notes · View notes

blackhakumen · 6 months

Text

Mini Fanfic #1147: Start of a New Vacation (SSBU X Wario Ware)

11:34 a.m. on Diamond City's La Glorious Cruise Boat........

Penny: WHAT!?

9-Volt: (Crosses his Arms) Yeah, you heard me.

Penny: (Glaring Down at 9-Volt with her Hands on Both her Hips) What I'm hearing is a heavy amount of bias and hoohaahs! What the heck makes you think Goku would stand chance against Saitama in an on-one-on match!?

9-Volt: Years of challenging, disciplinary training experience, incredibly durability and speed stats, has multi powerful techniques in his disposal, the guy even faced plenty of monsters, planet busters and literal GODS in the runtime of the series! He's easily one of the strongest fighters in the entire universe!

Penny: Strongest my foot! He's not even the Top 10 strongest in his own series! Need I remind you the time he lost to an ACTUAL god once? And some of the wins we DID achieved were thanks to pure luck and close clutches!

9-Volt: (Starts Glaring Back at Penny) At least he gave it his all in those fights! I don't see Baldy-McTwo Fists out there fighting any 9f the foes I just mentioned!

Penny: On the contrary, Point Dexter, not only has Saitama faced plenty of monsters, supernatural beings, and other heroes with planet busting feats, but he also managed to blow up Jupiter into figurines with just one sneeze.

9-Volt: No way he can do thar when Goku could easily do that with a single Kamehame wave!

Penny: Yeah, well look it up, genius! It's a certified fact.

9-Volt: Nuh-uh!

Penny: Yeah-huh!

9-Volt: Nuh-uh!

Penny: Yeah-huh!

Ashley: (Sighs While Watching 9-Volt and Penny Arguing with One Another and Sitting Next to her Boyfriend in the Background) The one time I get to enjoy my peace and relaxation on this trip and this is what I'm welcomed to.....

Lucas: (Turns to Ashley) Have they always get into these heated debates?

Ashley: More or less. One time they spent two hours and a half debating over a duck/rabbit picture. (Shows Lucas a Picture of a Duck/Rabbit Sketch on her Phone) See?

Lucas: Awww~ It look so cute~ (Smiles Sheepishly) Can't tell which one it really is though......

Ashley: No one here has a clue either. But that's neither here nor there. (Lay her Head onto Lucas' Shoulder) How are you enjoying the trip so far?

Lucas: (Smiles Brightly) I'm enjoying it a lot so far! The temperature feels nice out, the ocean looks so shiny and beautiful, I don't even think I remember the last time I rode on a boat before, this is great!~

Ashley: (Giggles Softly) I'm glad to hear it!~ I have no doubt that this week will be even more spectacular from here.

Lucas: (Nodded in Agreement) Yeah, neither do I. You think everyone back home will be okay without us?

Ashley: (Shrugs) I wouldn't worry too much about them personally. Their chaotic mannerisms are more than enough to keep them busy for a week at least.

Lucas: (Giggles a Bit) I wouldn't exactly say they're completely chaotic, but I will miss them dearly. I hope I have enough to buy them all souvenir gifts....

Ashley: (Hugs Lucas While Pouting at Him a Little) We'll worry about our vaction comes to it's closing point, mister~ You deserve to have as much fun and relaxation as the rest of us here.

Lucas: I know. (Happily Hugs his Girlfriend Back) Thank you.

Ashley: (Gives Lucas a Peck on the Cheek Before Smiling Back) You're welcome.

Wario: (In the Distance OI! Lovebirds! Quit having a relaxing hug fest and get over here! Team meeting's about to start!

Ashley: (Groans in Annoyance While Getting Up From her Seat Along with Lucas) He's holding a team meeting in the middle our time off?

Lucas: (Smiles Sheepishly) Let's see what he wants from us first. (Gently Grabs Hold of Ashley's Hand) We can go everything ypu want to do afterwards if you want.

Ashley: Sure. (Makes her Way to Wario and the Others with Lucas Right Next to Her) It probably won't be much though.

Wario: (Stands on Top of a Crate as He Sees Everyone of his Colleagues Arriving Towards his Area) Alright, losers, gather around and shut up! Before this little vacation adventure of ours starts, we need to break a few ground rules.

Dribble: (Raises an Eyebrow in Confusion) Ground rules?

Spitz: You serious, man?

Wario: Yes, MAN! I am. I'm your boss, I paid for the expenses, everything I say goes, which is exactly Rule #1. #2: Never ask me to buy you anything! You have money in your own pockets, use it. #3: There's a picture of a map made in the back of your brochures, so keep them close to you at all times. If any of you manage get yourselves lost by the time we head back home and are late get back on that cruise ship before then, sucks to be you.

5-Volt: (Gives Wario a Stern, Motherly Glare) If ANYONE gets lost, we band together to find them no matter how long it takes. No gets left behind on this trip.

Everyone: Yeah!

Wario: ('Sighs in Defeat') Fine! We'll set up a search party if that ever happens, moving on! #4: Any hidden treasure I potentially stumble upon along the way, will be mines in advance.

Mona: Always finding treasure, eh Wario?

Wario: Been a Treasure Hunter since day one, it's what I do. And the Fifth and Final Rule for the Day: Until this vacation this done and over with, none of you loser bother me. (Points at Lucas) That goes double for you, Sunflower boy.

Lucas: (Salutes to Wario) Yes sir, Mr. Wario sir! (Lowers hid Posture Down and Forms a Bit of a Nervous Smile on his Face) A-Also I just wanted to say how thankful I am for letting me join you guys this time around. I-I promise not to be a bother to you guys going forward....

Wario: Yeah, you better not, twerp! I didn't get my arm broken and have to pay extra on this trip JUST to deal with a snot-nose crybaby like you all day-

Wario........

The Fatman starts shivering in fear as he turns to see all of his co-workers giving him dark, soul piercing glares at his direction (with Ashley's hair turned white and 5-Volt turned into her demonic persona, slowly pounding her fist onto her palm)

Wario: Uh- ('Clears Throat') F-Forget everything I said just now. Glad to have you on board.

18-Volt: Look!

The gang turns to see that they've finally reached their destination, Caresaway Island.

Everyone: Hey, we're here!~

Wario: Finally!(Jumps Put of the Boat First) Outta the way, chumps, I'm going first! (Rushes Over to the Island's Staff)

Staff: (Happily Greets Wario) Greetings! Welcome to the island. Please take these precious stones as a hello gift.

Wario: (Smiles Brightly as the Images of Diamonds Appears on Both his Eyes) Ohhh! Diamonds!? Gimme, Gimme!!

Staff: (Presents Two Sets of Somewhat Familiar Looking Stones Along with Two of his Co-Workers) Actually, they're Form Stones! Moving around with these in your hands could bring you good luck.

Wario snatches one of the Move Stones from out of the wooden plate and examines both of them up close one by one before angrily chucking them.

Wario: Stupid rocks! I don't want 'em!!

Both of the rocks manages to hit the top of a parrot's head, causing it to screech in pain and flies away while indirectly bumping one of the tourists and making her drop her drink to the ground. It wasn't long for a blue elephant to slip on the spilled drink and uses his trunk to grab onto a flower coded sign before flipping himself over and accidentally kicking Wario hard enough to send him flying and crash down towards a faraway forest.

5-Volt: (Pinches the Bridge of her Nose While Sighing) Of all the lousy.....(Starts Bowing at Everyone Present in the Entrance) We are so sorry about all that, everyone.

Staff: (Smiles Sheepishly) I...take it you all know are acquainted with man in some way.

Ashley: Unfortunately.

Mona: (Smiles Sheepishly as Well) He's out boss from back home.

Penny: (Rolls her Eyes) Just as rude and impatient as he always is......

While everyone else agreeing to that motion, Lucas looks down at Move Stones and picks both of them up from the ground.

Lucas: So.....These Move Stones.....(Turns to Island's Staff) Do they really bring you good luck charm, sir?

Staff: (Happily Nodded) That's right! All you have to do is move around attracted to the grip of your hands and you'll surely be granted with luck in due time.

Ashley: (Lools Down at the Spare Move Stones in Front of Her) Hm.....Can't say I care too much about anything luck related. But given we're in vacation with Wario of all people....(Picks Both of the Stone Up From the Plate) I suppose it wouldn't hurt to put to good use eventually.

Penny: Ooh I'll take one too!~ (Happily Takes the Last Pair of Move Stones From the Other Plate) I can already tell by the craftsmanship of these beauties alone that they're research worthy.

9-Volt: (Starts Jumping Up and Raising his Hand Up) Ooh! Ooh! Can I get one too please?

18-Volt: (Raises his Hand Up as Well) And me too!?

The Gang: And us too?

Staff: (Smiles Brightly) Sure! It'll.....take a while to have the stones up and ready for you all though.

5-Volt: (Happily Bows at the Staff Members Once More) Take as much time as you need. It's the least we can do for what happened earlier. (Turns Back to the Gang) Right, everyone?

The Gang: Yeah./Sure!/ I don't mind waiting./ We can wait.

Staff: (Clasps his Hands Together with a Smile of his Own) Thank you all for your understanding. We'll have them out for you shortly. In the meantime, please, enjoy your stay at Caresaway Islaend! (Happily Waves Goodbye to Everyone Before Taking his Leave)

5-Volt: (Happily Waves Back at the Leaving Staff Members Before Taking a Deep Breath) Okay. With all of that out of the way. (Places her Hands on Both her Hips) I say we're all ready to get this vaction up and started!~ Oh and Lucas?

Lucas: (Looks Up at 5-Volt) Yes, ma'am?

5-Volt: (Gives Lucas a Sincere Motherly Smile) We're very happy to have you here with us, as part of our crew even. Please don't let whatever Wario says make you think differently about that or about yourself, okay?

Ashley: (Hugs Lucas' Arm) That goes double from me too, dear!

Penny: (Happily Chimes in) And from me too!~

The Gang: (Chimes in as Well) And from us too!!~

Lucas: (Giggles Ticklishly by all Hugs He's Receiving) Okay, okay!~ I promise not to think any of that get to me. (Smiles Brightly) Thank you all so much!~ (Eyes Suddenly Starts to Widened) But wait, W-What about Wario!? Is he gonna be okay-

WAHAHAHA!

The gang looks up to see Wario flying in the skies while riding on a poor parrot's back and holding two of the Move Stones.

Wario: These rocks rock! Get it. WAHAHAHAHA! AAHAHAHAHA!

5-Volt: He'll be fine. This IS Wario after all. But seriously this time....(Raise her Fist Up in the Air) Let this one week vacation adventure begin!

Everyone: (Raises Their Fist Up as Well While Cheering in Rejoice) YEAH!~

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@caleb13frede

@bestpony666

#wario ware move it #mother 3 #super smash ultimate #lucas #ashley warioware #penny crygor #9 volt #5 volt #wario #warioware inc #vacation trip #sweet family moment #cute romance #humor #lucas x ashley

9 notes · View notes