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p-taryn-dactyl · 2 years

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Chaos is a Friend of Mine (1)

a/n: so quick storytime: i am obsessed with ancient egypt. i love the history and the culture and the mythology - it's all so beautiful and interesting to me. it actually started after i read the Kane Chronicles so thanks rick so when Moon Knight was announced then released, I think I had a stroke from how excited I was. And the show surpassed all expectations I had like....it was amazing. (i think my parents had a grudge against Moon Knight bc it reignited my passion and i talked nonstop about literally anything to do with ancient egypt.) okay sorry for that, the fic will start now (this the first part of a new series)

prompt/plot: you were once the avatar to the god of chaos - living your best life as you exacted torment upon your enemies. but when he was encased in stone, you lived your life in hiding from the Ennead. When the pyramid crumbled, Marc, Steven, and Layla didn't think about the consequences. After all the statues were broken, the formerly trapped gods went back to their former avatars (if still alive). now, you're back as a threat to the world and to kill the new avatar of khonshu. word count: 1.8k taglist: @nyx-aira (thank you for the title! i hope you like the fic!) pairing(s): (all platonic/enemies - for now) steven grant x fem!reader; marc spector x fem!reader; layla el faouly x fem!reader warning(s): gif not mine and not really relevant to the fic but it's cool; reader is a bit crazy - you're a villain, congrats; changing perspectives/POV; use of Y/N

The chaos came on Tuesday, like it always did. It started with all your plates falling out of the cabinets, hitting the ground with muffled bangs. After the fifth time, you had traded out all your plates to plastic. Then came the bookshelf. Books pushed themselves off the shelves, opening on the floor, the pages ruffling as your AC came on. But the most annoying was when your blanket was ripped from you, exposing you to the cool air of your apartment.

“Uugghh, what ghost did I piss off?” You mumbled to yourself, getting up from your chair, setting your coffee down on the end table. As you bent down to pick up the plates, waiting for the blinds to start opening - the pattern of chaos ingrained in your mind, you heard a shattering noise followed by liquid spilling. You stood up straight.

“Oh hell no-” You stormed over to where you set down your coffee, sighing angrily as you saw your mug in pieces and the coffee all over your floor. You flared your arms upward, frustration in your voice as you yelled at your ceiling.

“Okay, what the shit did I do to you? Did you live here centuries ago or something? Did-” You were cut off by the feeling of steaming coffee steeping into your sock. As you hopped on one foot, hissing in pain, you noticed the coffee forming strange puddles. You crouched down, cocking your head to the side as you tried to make sense of what was happening. Maybe your floorboards were uneven. But as the steaming brown liquid continued to swirl, you recognized what they were forming.

“Hieroglyphs?” You whispered in disbelief, hand reaching out to trace the symbols. Just as your fingers touched the coffee, the hieroglyphs seemingly translated in your mind. You scrambled back at what it said, chest heaving in shock. After you calmed down, you stood up calmly, aware of the presence behind you. You rolled your shoulder before raising an eyebrow.

“So..you’re back?” You shook your head, laughing as excitement weld up inside of you. You turned around, a smile itching to form on your face.

“Hello Set.”

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Marc was vibing. He was free of Khonshu’s burden, free to live his life with Layla and Steven, without any possibility of danger ahead. He leaned back in his patio chair, sunglasses sliding down his nose as he basked in the sun. Layla sat in front of him, her hair creating a halo around her head, glowing in the sun. Even though she was no longer the avatar for Taweret, she was still a goddess. The streets bustled around them, families out shopping, vendors calling out their goods, music playing faintly in the distance.

“Why are you smiling so big?” Layla asked as she took a drink of her sugar cane juice, a happy look on her face. Marc spread his arms out wide, gesturing to the energy around them.

“This! We can finally have a moment like this without having to look over our shoulders! We can finally take a breath!” Marc looked down at the mirror he now carried around, seeing Steven smiling as well.

“I can’t believe it’s actually over.” Steven gushed out, as he fronted. Layla’s eyes widened in excitement when she heard Steven’s voice.

“And how are you doing? Do you plan on going back to your museum job?” Before Steven could answer, Marc’s reflection yelled a “No!”. Steven laughed, shaking his head.

“I think I’m going to have to talk to the voice in my head about that.” Layla chuckled, shaking her head. Marc put on a faux offended look.

“I really thought we had gotten closer Steven, I really di-” when he didn’t finish, Steven raised the mirror up, concern written on his face.

“Marc, what is it?” Marc fronted, looking around, a bad feeling growing in his gut. Layla set down her juice, also looking around.

“Marc what-” people started screaming, their eyes glossing over. Marc stood up quickly, knocking his chair over as he, Layla, and Steven watched the chaos around them. People were running around, clawing at each other, their words garbled together like they were speaking under water. Layla squinted, looking at the ground, taking a cautious step towards Marc as she watched sand seep through the streets, rising and falling like an ocean caught in a storm. Soon, Marc and Layla were back to back as they watched the chaos unfold. The sand rose up, swirling around them like a tornado, crashing to the ground, crushing the table they were once sitting at. Steven fronted, rubbing his forehead.

“What the bloody hell.” He mumbled as the crowd started to become more violent with each other, some people’s eyes dripping sand. Everytime Layla or Steven tried to move, they realized their legs had gotten trapped in a pool of quicksand. They heard a woman scream as her friend threw a knife at her, scrapping her side, their heads snapping in that direction.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A new voice spoke, a woman’s voice with overlapping echoes. The quicksand rotated, causing them to turn around, letting them see the owner of the voice. A woman sat on the edge of the roof of the building across the street, leaning back on her arms, a pleased yet nostalgic look on her face.

“You’re doing this?” Layla asked, her voice filled with disbelief. The woman shrugged, her eyes still focused on the crazed people.

“Maybe. But don’t worry, darling, it won’t last long. It will stop when I get what I want.”

Steven and Layla looked at each other before Steven asked.

“And what do you want?” His voice was hesitant, but without fear. The woman laughed to herself, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her rings. When she looked up, her eyes were pits of fire, burning into Layla and Steven.

“I want the avatar of Khonshu. Dead.” She turned her gaze to only Steven who swallowed, letting Marc front. Marc chuckled, scratching his head.

“Look lady, I guess you haven’t heard yet. I’m no longer Khonshu’s avatar!” The woman with eyes of fire faked looking disappointed before bursting into a giant smile, laughing loudly. She stood up.

“Oh honey, it’s cute that you actually believe that.” She placed her hands on her hips, smirking. “You know, when my friend was released from his prison of stone, I thought: Finally. You know why? Because I’ve waited years, decades, to kill Khonshu once and for all. Killing his avatar is just the first step. But then,” she laughed, raising her hands in the air - causing the sand to rise up Layla and Marc’s neck to their chins, “I find out the avatar of Khonshu that I knew had gone crazy, started a cult, worshiped the alligator lady, became her avatar, then got shot in the head. By Khonshu’s new avatar.” She watched with glee as Marc seemed to put it all together. His chest fell, shaking his head as he looked towards the sky.

“I’m still Moon Knight.”

“Well, not exactly. Your third identity is, you and Steven are just along for the ride.” Steven fronted, much to Marc’s annoyance. The egyptologist frantically traced his mind, desperate to figure out what she meant by her friend trapped in stone.

“You’re an avatar.” The woman raised her eyebrow, looking to the side then back at Steven.

“Well duh. And I thought you were the smart one.” Steven shook his head, confusion etched into his face.

“But who’s your-”

“Set.” Layla spoke, her face hardening as she named the god of chaos, deserts, and disorder. The woman pointed at Layla, making a finger gun motion.

“Bingo. But don’t worry, you haven’t met him yet. This,” she waved her hands towards the street, “is all me.” She said proudly. Just as Steven was about to respond, the woman’s eyes lost all of their humor, shining with hate as she looked behind them. Layla and Steven turned their heads to see Khonshu behind them, holding his scepter in a menacing way.

“Y/N. I thought you were dead.” She shrugged.

“You thought wrong, pigeon head.” The moon god growled, preparing to attack. Y/N cocked her head to the side, as if listening to someone speak. An evil smirk grew across her face. She flicked her wrist, the sand surrounding Layla and Steven collapsing, sending them to the ground. Y/N smiled at Khonshu, no warmth present. She adjusted her cuffed sleeves and collar, waving as she dissolved into sand, disappearing into the wind. In a flash, the sand in the street was gone, and people carried on as they were before, no trace of the madness from a few seconds prior. Marc fronted, turning towards Khonshu, anger written in his eyes.

“I thought we had a deal.” Khonshu nodded solemnly.

“We did. But now we see that Moon Knight is still needed. Set has been released and his avatar, that Y/N, is arguably more dangerous than he is. She won’t stop till I’m dead, killing whoever is in her way.” Layla shook her head, frustration seeping in as she ran her hand through her hair.

“And why is that our problem?” Khonshu sighed, pointing to her wrist.

“Because of that.”

On her wrist, or seemingly under her skin, was a shifting symbol. A Was-scepter. Marc groaned when he saw the same thing on his wrist.

“She can track you with that mark. She’s able to see wherever you are, hear what you hear, hunting you like a predator,” Khonshu looked towards the horizon as Marc and Layla looked at each other with devastated looks,

“No matter where you go, she’ll find you.”

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You reformed in your hotel room, shaking excess sand onto the floor. You cracked your neck and knuckles, rolling your head to the side. Set appeared on the bed, lounging with his arms behind his head. You rolled your eyes, taking off your rings as you went to change for bed.

“I’m not sharing the bed nor am I sleeping on the floor.” You called out from the bathroom, pulling pajamas on. When you walked out, you saw the mule headed god playing with a TV remote, jumping when he accidentally turned the television on. You shook your head, muting the sound when you took the remote from Set.

“Can you see them?” He asked, his voice like cries of war. You closed your eyes, smiling as Marc Spector and Layla el Faouly came into view - furiously packing their stuff, looking around cautiously. Marc was scratching as his brand, the was-scepter seemingly burning him. When you opened your eyes, you nodded. A smirk grew on Set’s face, the fire in his eyes burning brighter. He got off the bed, raising his arms like a champion in battle. Your hotel room walls shifted and reformed, creating itself into a palace on the inside. You laughed.

“You’re so dramatic.” Set shrugged, nodding acceptantly. You sat criss cross on the bed, looking at Set intensely, your own eyes burning with flames.

“So, what’s next?” Set laughed.

“Well, my child, we get your revenge.”

#moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector #marc spector x reader #layla el faouly #layla el faouly x reader #khonshu #set (the egyptian god)#seth #setekh #fem!reader #moon knight fanfiction #Y/N is so alike to my main character of the book im writing #khonshu x reader #steven grant x layla el faouly #marc spector x layla el faouly #i'll probably add some of my OC's later on as other avatars just a fair warning

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pokegalla · 2 years

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Hi 💚 May I request headcannons for Underswap Papyrus with an artist S/O?

Why certainly!

Underswap Papyrus x Artist!S/O Headcanons

He is going to be pretty chill about it. But he really loves your work.

He likes looming over your shoulder just to sneak a peek.

If you’re the type to not let anyone see your work until you’re done and you scold him, he’ll shrug it off.

“What? I just wanna see….it’s looking amazing as usual. You worry too much”

Supports you 100%

Oh lord but when he sees sketches of him in your books or even paintings of his family all together. This man is an orange mess. Stuff like this remind him that you are his S/O. That you are apart of his life now and he’s apart of yours. And that makes him melt with joy.

Also expect him to drag you to bed or just sleep on you if you decide to stay up and finish that piece you wanted.

He’s teased you a few times already, taking his shirt off and posing, “Draw me like one of your French girls~”

If you blush and look away, he’ll love it. If you just draw him, he’ll be regretting that now he has to stay still as a model. Think of it as sweet revenge 😏

Oh and you know Blue is like an extra supporter. He literally cheers when you begin doing a new project. You and Paps just share a glance then laugh. He’s a little confused but he’s got spirit.

He’s even joined you on occasion to paint with you! It uh….always ends in a mess. And you already know Blue is gonna be pissed-

Mini story time:

You were in your art studio that Blue built for you (with help of course). You wanted to try a realistic drawing of the honey bottle in front of you. It was like tackling a new challenge and you were up for it!

“Hey there’s my two favorite things in the world. My honey and my honey bee.”

You giggled when you felt a hug and skele-kiss to your cheek, “Hey Babe. What brings you here to my humble abode?”

“Was looking for a little thief. Who’s taken my heart and my honey,” He said poking your cheek.

“Oh! My bad,” You giggled at the joke, “I can’t give you what you never had but I’ll be giving back the honey in a minute.”

He put his hand over his chest in mock hurt, “Well MAYBE I don’t have a heart cause you have it. See?”

You gasped when you felt cold paint on your cheek. You look at a nearby mirror to see he painted an orange heart on your cheek. Oh he wanted to play like that? You picked up your paintbrushes covered in paint.

“You wanna go?”

“Bring it”

After a little tussle of paint flying and chasing around, the two end up rolling on the floor, you on top of him and going nuts by painting his skull with cute hearts.

“Ok ok! You win Honey you win! Jeez….”

You laugh triumphantly, “Ha! But hey. I’ll at least give something back….” His confused face turned bright orange when I kissed him on the teeth, “I can give you my heart in exchange~”

“Heh. Ok yah got me there….love yah.”

“Love you too”

They heard a gasp and they instantly paled, “GUUUUUUYYYS!!! Why is there paint EVERYWHERE?! It’s even on the ceiling how-?!”

Papyrus leaned his head back, “Hey bro. We’re just adding a little color in our lives”

You wave shyly, “Sorry Blue….”

You can bet he made you both clean that studio. Well Papyrus sipping on honey while you work. Be sure to hide the rest of his honey bottles. Y’know….for a prank.

#my writing #funny #fluff #undertale au headcanons #undertale au x reader #underswap papyrus x reader #artist!reader #papyrus x y/n #mini story #cute #answered asks #underswap sans

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tev-the-random · 2 years

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Deteriorated

Sausage stared at the statue in awe.

It always amazed him, the goddess that guarded these catacombs. Not in a artistic way, though her opulence by itself impressed the builder side of him. Instead, he looked at her with warmth.

Don't get him wrong, Sausage firmly believed that this "Angel of Death", as Pix called her, could slay dragons if she wasn't literally set in stone. But instead of fear or reverence, he felt a strange sense of comfort whenever he looked at her.

And a pinch of sorrow.

Trying to remind himself that he didn't come here for sightseeing, Sausage managed to tear his eyes away from the ancient sculpture to look for Pix. More often than not the archaeologist would be in his campsite doing research, analysing crumbling books, unreadable documents and rocks that honestly all looked the same. But he did have a tendency to wander about the ruins, always looking for something new - or rather, something old.

Not feeling like getting lost in the underground labyrinth that were the catacombs, Sausage opted for searching the nearby structures. He called for Pixl, looked inside the occasional hole and overall had this eerie feeling in his gut that made him look over his shoulder a few times.

Nature mourned here. This abandoned land once housed the several people that now rested underneath that statue. And although time had clearly left its scars, it almost felt like those souls should still be wandering here, longing to not be forgotten. They could jump at him any moment.

He should really stop taking Hermes' requests to read him ghost stories.

Sausage had the growing urge to leave and come back some other time, but despite the creepiness that covered the ruins around him, he was drawn to an old castle - or maybe it was a big church? - on the far end of the savanna. Pixl had marked its perimeter, which lead Sausage to believe he had already started studying it.

Though he could very easily go around the collapsed walls, he chose to open the door. It creaked, dry and loud and heavy, then fell to the ground with a dusty thud once the hinges gave up on it.

'Oh god- no one saw that, right?' He looked over his shoulders once more. 'If no one saw it then it wasn't my fault.'

Sausage regretted opening the door in the first place. But now that it's down, he might as well enter.

Sunbeams bathed the spacious room through the open ceiling. Greenery grew in the walls and the stone floors were covered in moss. Sausage could hear a series of chirps as birds made their nests in the peaceful ruins.

He thought about asking them if they had seen Pixl around, but no sooner he found himself hypnotised by something else.

On the far back wall, there was a mural. Sausage approached it, scrutinizing the small faded details like they held some secret. At first, it felt out of place ‐ like the pillars on the floor had been knocked down just to make it more visible, and the sun changed its position to emphasise its presence. But this odd feeling didn't come from any of that.

The mural pictured a woman standing solemnly in a sunflower field. Her brown hair sprinkled with blond streaks cascaded over her bare shoulders, pristine and braided with flowers. Her flowing green dress and cape were stitched with gold, and golden were her shoes and the jewellery she wore. A crown of gilded leaves sat atop her head, adorned by a large emerald front and centre.

On one hand, the woman cradled a sheaf of wheat. On the other, she held a delicately ornamented sword pointed at the sky.

Time had destroyed her features too much for anyone to tell what her expression said, though Sausage could definitely see a glint of blue eyes staring ahead.

Her wings framed her much too perfectly, and there was still enough of the chipped golden paint on the feathers for them to glitter in the sun.

It was quite the piece of art, he had to admit. And yet, Sausage couldn't help but feel that it looked... wrong.

The woman resembled, in a way, the statue of the goddess that so often caught his attention when he visited. Maybe it was the whiplash between sculpture and painting that had him weirded out.

But the more he stared at it, the more Sausage thought there was too much gold. Even though the paint hardly had any of its original shine anymore, it just felt like too much. How could one fight with such a crown? How could one feel the earth with such shoes? How could jewellery replace the armour that belonged to her?

Though Sausage wasn't one to disrespect past civilisations, it was almost laughable. He could imagine a voice commenting on how poorly held the sword was and how the thin cape would only get in the way and be torn to shreds in the end. He knew the delicate braids would come undone during the course of a sparring session, and that she that would never stand so straight and poised for so long.

He imagined a fierce warrior in need of adventure. A young soul who would sail viking territory by his side, defeat entire raids and challenge the most supernatural forces without a hint of fear. Someone who could throw a good punch and draw a good blade in the same breath.

He thought of a humble farmer in need of peace. A girl who would walk barefoot on her wheat fields and take in the warm sun like she was one of the sunflowers that crowned her. He had good memories of sunflowers. And so did she.

He saw a queen who didn't act like one in front of him. Who would behave like a deranged, chaotic creature when she lacked sleep. Who, when faced with a challenge, would become possessed by a determination that would inspire the mightiest Monster Slayers. Who wouldn't care about titles, who never thought of legacy and whose castle wasn't composed of tall towers and flying flags. Someone who was much more laidback than elegant, yet held more honour than most people.

He knew a Pearl who could grow a home in corrupted soil and connect to her land as easily as she breathed. Pearl, who never let go of his hand when he lost sight of himself. She would rather follow Sausage into the abyss than give up on him. And when nobody else looked him in the eyes, she smiled at him, concerned and kind and persistent.

Pearl didn't need all of this. She was never a Goddess or a Saint. Her land was simply golden because she cared for it. If there was something truly gilded about the Farmer Queen, it was her heart.

And he watched it all wither away with her.

'Hey hey hey, don't touch that!'

As if hooking him with a fishing rod, Pixlriffs pulled Sausage from his own thoughts and back into the ruins.

Sausage reached for the mural in what could be described as longing. He couldn't recall what exactly he was thinking about, and it rubbed him in all sorts of wrong ways. Pulling his hand back and to his chest, he took another look at the work of art.

It was just an old painting on a wall. Stationary. Symbolic. An imitation of a time long gone that didn't pertain to him at all.

So why was he holding back tears?

'Sorry, Sausage.' Pix walked over the collapsed walls and approached him. 'This is a very old piece and quite deteriorated as is. I'd like to avoid any further damage.'

The archaeologist joined his friend in staring at the wall.

'She seems to be depicted a lot around here. I'm still not sure if she was a religious figure or a ruler, or both.' He crossed his arms in contemplation. 'But whoever she was, she was very loved.'

There was no response.

'Anyway, I wasn't really expecting you today. Did you need anything?'

Sausage couldn't come up with an answer. If because he forgot what he came here for in the first place or because his voice failed him, it didn't matter. He clung to his chest, and it hurt. Like grief, like guilt, like longing. And then fear.

There was someone missing in his life. Someone important. He had no idea who or why, and it terrified him.

'Are you alright, Sausage?' Pix finally asked. The guardian of Sanctuary had paled considerably. He cleared his throat, however, finally looking away from the wall.

'Ah. Yeah, haha! I just... I just have a little bit of a headache right now.' Sausage took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. 'Just a little, tiny headache...'

The way he murmured his answer didn't give Pix any reassurance. He wasn't one to murmur. But before the archaeologist could voice his concern, Sausage was already turning around to leave.

'Sorry to disturb you, Pix! Imma come back when uh... when my headache's gone. Have fun with your history stuff, bye!'

And with that, Sausage was gone. Pixlriffs watched him fly away until he was just a dot in the distance, and only then did he sigh.

He would have to do some more research on the mysterious figure with golden wings. There seemed to be very little left about her, and he was almost certain she was only a myth.

But the look in Sausage's eyes was one he knew quite well. It was that of someone had just seen a ghost.

#Get it? It's- it's deteriorated because it's old ruins and stuff #But also because Sausage's memories are quite fragmented at the moment-#I saw Pixlriff's statue and immediately went 'Is that Pearl???'#I suppose her current state and general role in the lore is kind of nebulous at the moment #Which means I get to write a tiny little angst about it-#Have fun Empiresblr #Empires SMP #Empires II #Empires season 2 #esmp #Writing #fanfiction #I honestly have no idea how to tag fanfics anymore #Mythical Sausage #Pixlriffs #Pearlescent Moon

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koneko-pi · 1 year

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DISTANT RELATIVES, CHAPTER ONE

I was intending to make a one shot but it kind of expanded into more ^^'

inspired by @lyranova

"Nymphy?"

"Nyyymphyyyyy?"

"Nymphy!"

Avalinia Silva wandered all around their home looking for her sister; she opened doors, peaked down hallways and even accidentally stumbled on a few servants being a little too close to one another.

"I'm so sorry!!" She slammed the door quickly, face as red as the tomatoes her mother loved to grow. 'Sister where are you?!'

Their father had summoned them to his office almost ten minutes ago, he would scold them both for being this late!! With the haunting thought of Nozel looming over them angrily Ava quickly rushed down the halls, calling her sisters name here and there-

Soon her feet carried her to a stop, pausing her movements outside a door that normally she was not willing to get anywhere near. She had walked far enough to end up in the small branch of the house that had been given to their mother to hold all of her things.

While she slept in the same room as their father and most of her essentials were within the main manor, much of her… more collectible items were kept in a locked room that was in the far corner of the house, a place you would actively have to seek out to find.

But as Ava stared at the door, she realized it was not locked and even hung open slightly, a small glow coming through the crack in it.

"N-Nymphy..?" Ava slowly pushed the door open. This room really gave her the chills. Literally, it was like suddenly walking into a refrigerator as she passed through the doorway.

Their mother had forbidden them from entering this room because of how dangerous the times inside could be. She was a collector of things from what she called "the old world", the era humans had erased from history books (save for one) and the era their mother was originally from. So the items here were more potent than the things witches would create today.

Some of the things Ava saw in the glass cases looked suspicious. An ominous black crown with red gemstones inlaid into it. A decorative blue and gold urn that seemed to whisper to her. A small mirror that looked transparent. She paused in front of an open case displaying some of the more harmless items, she assumed.

"Oh!" Her mood brightened a little as she picked up an old worn out head piece. It was green and gold, the blue stones on either side now dull with their loss of mana. It was made to cover up one's ears and wrap around the backside of the head. Ava smiled as she tilted it this way and that. "This was mama's first set of earmuffs." She remembered seeing it in old photos the squad had of her parents when they first met. Nowadays she wore much more decorative ones to hide her ears, gifts her father had made for her knowing how insecure she was about her ears.

She was getting so lost in fond thoughts that when something suddenly fluttered behind her she almost dropped the sentimental piece out of fear. She squealed as she fumbled with it in the air, her hands clasped the earmuffs tightly as she then slowly put them back down. She let out a breath of relief before turning around towards the noise.

Past a few boxes she saw a bit of dust floating through the air in a light in a far corner. Something had been disturbed…

She swallowed nervously as she steeled herself to move towards it. She did not like this room… the goosebumps were almost unbearable.

"N-Nymphy…?" Ava's voice was shaking as she peaked around a stack of wooden crates-

The light source was a lantern, lit up by a magical stone in its core, it was on the ground by a girl's feet and she stood in front of a decorative floor to ceiling wall mirror.

"Nymphadora!" Ava called her name with relief.

The other girl turned to her twin. "Ava?" She looked amazed her skittish sister had even made it this far into the storage room. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you!" Ava was quick to grab onto her sister's hand. "Father has been calling for us for nearly an hour! He wanted to talk to us about something."

Nymphadora's expression quickly soured. "Oh what could he possibly yell at me for this time."

Ava didn't want to be that person… but she did just catch her in a room they were forbidden to enter… "w-well maybe he's not scolding you! He called for me too."

"He just uses you as the example of a goody-two-shoes!" The younger twin yanked her hand away, leaving Ava feeling disappointed and a little hurt. Because of her fragile nature their father had always doted on her just a little bit more. Be it in worrying for her safety or making sure she got everything she needed, which left Nymphadora feeling left out.

It didn't help either that she had a powerful curiosity for their mothers projects, much like their little brother. But unlike Mikhail who was satisfied with just the stories, Nymphadora wanted to touch, use, and explore her mothers creations and findings. Which more often than not, were dangerous. So their mother refused her curiosities everytime, which cut the wound even deeper…

"W-what are you even doing in here..?" Ava asked to try and brighten her mood a little and change the subject. While Nymphadora really shouldn't be touching their mothers things, she was always excited to talk about them. And so as she answered her posture changed and her voice sounded happier.

"I wanted to look at this mirror! I saw it last time I was here."

'How many times have you been in here!?' Anyone could see the panic on Ava's face as she paled considerably and her hands wrung themselves together. "M-mirror?"

"Yeah, check it out!" The frame looked like it was made of solid gold and was well polished. Details of leaves, numbers and foreign letters or runes were etched into it, giving it a very antique kind of feeling. It was leaning against the wall but if it was standing straight up it would surely be taller than the room. As Nymphadora waved her hands, danced and moved in front of it excitedly, Ava realized there was no reflection. At least not of her sister. Rather the image in the mirror was incredibly dark and Ava could barely make out the outlines of boxes and trinkets inside. The only things not reflected seemed to be the lantern and girls.

"This is weird…" Ava whispered, and although it was still chilling to her, curiosity and amazement was still taking over.

"Isn't it!" Nymphadora laughed giddily as she struck a small pose in front of the mirror. "I wonder what it does."

"How did you find it?"

"I was in here last week looking for moms dream wine-"

"Eh!?" The wine that almost killed people because they weren't waking up?!

"-but she almost caught me so I had to hide and it was behind this thing!" The younger twin gestured eagerly to the mirror. "I didn't get a decent look at it though 'cause I had to hightail it out of here."

"W-well now that you got your look we can go right?" Ava gave a sheepish smile, hoping to maybe convince her sister they should LEAVE. After all, the longer they didn't show up to meet their father the more likely he was to come looking for them.

"No way!" And she was back to being her stubborn spiteful self.

"Nymphy, pplleeaaseee!!"" Ava whined as she grabbed hold of her sister's arm and began to tug. "If Father finds us here we'll be in so much trouble!"

"Good!" Nymphadora tugged back angrily, till the two of them were in a game of tug of war against leaving and staying put. "Maybe finally you can get punished for something!"

"But I'm not the one always breaking rules!" Ava began to tear up, not wanting to admit how hurtful her sister's words felt.

"Then maybe you should-! You're such a spoiled pretty princess around here and I'm sick of it! I want dad to yell at you and feel-"

"Nymphy-!" Ava's chest felt tight suddenly, her legs getting weak and giving out as she wheezed.

"Eh!?"

All the force Nymphadora had been using to hold herself in place suddenly had nothing to pull against, and it sent the pair of them flying back towards the mirror. Her head whipped around with creamy colored eyes wide in fear. She could already feel the hundred of cuts they were both about to get.

Arms wrapped around her body and her vision was covered in liquid metal.

The pair of them were cocooned tightly together by Ava's magic, something she was supposed to use sparingly because of how hard it was on her body.

"Kya-!" Both girls cried out as they hit the floor and were knocked around inside their protective casing. They clung to each other, confused and shaking.

Nymphadora was certain she hadn't heard the glass break…

"Guh- cogh-!"

"Ava!" The magic melted away and Nymphadora quickly got up to support her sister. Her body was hunched over, her hands clasping at her chest as she coughed and wheezed in a struggle to breath. "It's okay, just relax!" She quickly rubbed and patted her sister back to try and ease her of her blight.

Ava coughed a few more times before she managed to take in breaths of air. "I-I'm.. ok… I'm ok…. Thank you…"

She felt Nymphadora suddenly leave her side and stand up. "Sure." She responded coldly. "Dad would yell at me for putting you in the situation anyway, so I might as well make sure you live."

"N-nymphy…" Ava reached for her looking hurt but Nymphadora moved past her, uncaring, to the mirror.

"How weird… I was certain we were going to hit it." She muttered more to herself than her sister. The mirror was completely intact, with not even a fingerprint or smudge on it. They hadn't collided with it, did they fall past it? But the longer Nymphadora stared the more she noticed weird things, like the lantern she had brought with her was now on the other side of the mirror. In the reflection.

"Nymphy?" Ava stood up slowly and reached for her sister, wanting to talk to her about how troubled she was but-

"Who goes there?"

The girls flinched as light suddenly flooded the room. "Ah-!" And they had to shield their eyes.

"What are you doing in here!?" A girls voice sounded panicked and the twins felt hands wrap around their wrists and quickly pulled them out. "Don't you know this place is off limits to guests!?'

"W-were sorry!" Ava pleaded as her free hand rubbed at her watery eyes. "We were iust-"

"We're not guests!" Nymphadora snapped as she tried, and successfully, tugged herself free of whoever had snatched them away. "This is our house!"

"House?" The voice sounded confused.

The girls quickly rubbed the pain from their eyes as they adjusted to blinding light. And they were left speechless at what they saw.

What should have been on the outside of the room was a hallway, with green wallpaper and wooden floors.

What they were met with was a massive multi level room with bright lights, magical tools and people rushing to and from place to place.

"Whaaaaat..?" Nymphadora's mouth fell open.

"Oh my lord…" Ava could feel another coughing fit coming on out of panic.

"Are you ok?"

They both slowly turned to the one speaking and jumped, one twin grabbing hold of the other so they didn't faint.

It was a girl and she was short, probably around 15 years of age. Her hair was purple aside from some of her bangs that were snow white and covered up one of her eyes.

"Uhh… m-miss… Liliana?" Ava asked in a shaky voice.

The girl looked surprised. "You know me?"

Pucelle Liliana was one of their moms closest confidants, and a worker with the Crimson Lions. She often visited Briar in regards to work but… last time they checked.. She was in her twenties? This was a CHILD.

"I don't know…" Ava was trembling, despite trying to smile. "I'm really confused actually." With her eyes spinning she looked like she was about to lose consciousness.

"Oi oi!" Nymphadora suddenly had to hold all of her sister up as her legs gave out again.

"Woah okay- let's get you to a doctor first!" Pucelle looked panicked as she got to Ava's other side and helped her up. "We'll question you later but come on she looks sick…"

"Y-yeah…" Nymphadora wasn't sure what else to do but help carry her sister to the nearest infirmary…

Taglist: @lyranova

#black clover #black clover oc #nozel silva #black clover anime #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction #next gen #oc: avalina #oc: Nymphadora

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alexandersimpleton · 9 months

Text

In case you haven't read Epithet Erased (go read it it's amazing) the show exists in a world where 1 in 5 people are inscribed, which means they have a single word entwined with their soul that let's them do magic. For example, Molly Blyndeff, the protagonist of the museum arc of the first season and the book, has the epithet dumb, which let's her dumb things down and reduce them, like muting the noise within a small bubble, or reducing damage when you take a hit. Everyone else is a mundie

Now, I am also a massive fan of the series Cursed Princess Club on Webtoon. So, I've thought of Epithets for some of them.

(before the list, I'd like to make some things clear. In Epithet Erased, each Epithet has three scores: stamina, proficiency, and creativity. Stamina is how much they can use their epithet or take a hit, proficiency is how experienced they are with their epithet, creativity is how creative they are in using their epithet. As such I will be grading each and giving reasons for why each is graded as they are. As well as that, there are three classes of ranking. Star is level one, ring is level two, nova is level three. Most of these guys will just be stars, but still)

So, onto the epithets

Frederick: Imagine

Let's the user bring anything they imagine into reality.

Stamina: three stars (Freddy can use this one to his heart's content without so much as a sweat, but he'd probably be knocked out by a pillow hitting him in the face, so it evens out)

Proficiency: one ring, four stars (Freddy uses his epithet to escape reality like, several times per day, and has been for years. He's also taken to using it to impress Gwen on occasion. Only when they're alone because Frederick finds some of them embarrassing)

Creativity: five stars (Frederick is the type of person to imagine a solution to most things. Don't have enough hands? Cute spider people with 8 hands can carry your things! The room is to quiet? A boyband of anthropomorphic mice (that has since gotten a new member: the main singer's cute rat girlfriend))

Other stuff: Frederick does have a habit of accidently using his epithet when he gets strong emotions. When he gets flustered around Gwen he grows little cat ears (which he always gets incredibly embarrassed about, which makes the cat ears harder to un-summon), and whenever he has panic attacks sunflowers start growing on the walls floor and ceiling in whatever room he's in. (Just thought of this as I was writing, note to self: write an au where Frederick is just cursed with cat ears and other cat attributes. His personality and character really went from wet cat to dry cat)

Blaine: charm

Allows the user to convince any person animal or thing to do anything.

Stamina: four stars (he uses it often, but still gets tired of using it by the end of the day)

Proficiency: five stars (he uses it often, but doesn't rely on it like Frederick does)

Creativity: two stars (Blaine only gets that because he sometimes uses it for magic tricks. He just uses his epithet only in the least creative way possible)

Other stuff: He used his epithet to tame a bear once, I guess. If these guys were actually Epithet Erased characters, than I feel like Blaine being the least creative epithet user on the planet would be a running gag.

Maria: Melody

Allows the user to create music with a variety of effects. Most effective while singing, but can be applied to any other form of music

Stamina: two stars (how much energy it takes to use her epithet depends on the effects of the music, but doing anything important takes a good bit of energy)

Proficiency: three stars (she doesn't really practice her epithet. She just casts the same spell over and over again.)

Creativity: one ring, five stars (she doesn't really do it, but she can use her music to pretty much do literally anything. It is very abusable.)

Other stuff: If she leveled up her proficiency to rings, than she could gain a bonus on her epithet by teaming up with people, either with both using their epithets, or working together to create music. The songs she sings on balconies are magic songs. They make music notes appear in the air that disappear when she stops singing. That's it.

Gwen: terror

Allows the user to create a sense of terror in anyone or anything, but inanimate objects aren't as effective

Stamina: one star (any substantial use of it for more than a couple of seconds knocks her out cold)

Proficiency: one star (she doesn't use her epithet. Like at all)

Creativity: one star (again, she doesn't use it. But even if she did, it wouldn't really be lenient to creativity until:)

Other stuff: if she upgraded to rings, she could bring people's fears to life, like an even better Nightmare Fuel. But she won't get to rings any time soon. She still thinks she's a mundie. She has used her epithet on accident on many, MANY occasions. She is very oblivious to emotions. Because of her underleveling, people that trust her enough are almost completely immune to her epithet.

Nell: foresight

Allows the user to occasionally and sporadically predict negative events, with great pain from the user.

Stamina: one star (she basically dies whenever her epithet goes off)

Proficiency: two stars (it's hard to practice it, but how often it goes off got her out of one star)

Creativity: five stars (as much as the pain sucks, her epithet is actually quite useful)

Other stuff: This epithet pretty much works exactly how Nell's curse does in cannon, with the only exception being that Nell can set off a prediction if she tries hard enough. If she upgraded to rings than she could start seeing positive events too. If she upgraded to nova than she could pick any point in the future to see at will. It'd still hurt though, and her accidental prophesies would still happen.

#cursed princess club #epithet erased

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tssidesfics · 1 year

Text

@amateurmasksmith Thank you for giving me a prompt that wasn't romantic, bless you so much for that, you're amazing.

There is nothing more infuriating and illogical than a sick Logan, something Janus was all too willing to say directly to his face.

"Thomas is sick," he informed him. "Ergo, we are sick. Ergo, we all need to rest. This is not resting. Close the computer, change into sleep clothes, and lay down on the fucking bed."

"I am Logic. Logic does not rest or take breaks. I must work. Leave me be."

Janus pinched his sinuses, taking calculated breaths.

Elsewhere in the Mindscape, the other Sides had been corralled. Virgil had probably been the most difficult of them to wrangle, too anxious about Thomas being set back on work by a sick day that he was literally climbing the walls to avoid Janus and speak in Tempest Tongue to Thomas about an impressive variety of worst-case scenarios. It had taken assistance from Remus, who was easily the sanest while sick considering the snot and coughing was gross enough to keep him satiated, creating a sleeping drought Janus then directed to the ceiling and sprayed directly in Virgil's face. He had plummeted to the floor with a satisfying thump.

Roman was next in line, whining about how princes were invincible or something stupid. Despite his obstinance, he was also easily the most annoying about his illness, complaining about every symptom when the rest of them--excluding Janus, who had taken measures to resist the virus as long as possible so to make sure no one else was negatively impacting Thomas' health--were suffering the same effects. Janus only had to offer him chicken noodle soup with edible glitter to make him sit his ass down and stay there, although it unfortunately only encouraged the whining. Thankfully Virgil, still on the ceiling, had dropped a book on his head and knocked him out.

A merciful deed that Patton had veraciously objected to while coughing himself hoarse. He hadn't protested in the slightest about the sick day. They always affected him the worst and his only ask was that everyone make a little camp in the commons so he could make sure everyone was all right while also resting himself. His solution to the idiots of the Mindscape was also much sweeter than Janus' breed of "sit your ass down now before I color all your belongings pink (Virgil)/lock you out of your room and give Remus run of the place for a week (Roman)/slightly disorder your alphabetical and chronological systems while moving all of your pens slightly to the left (Logan)."

Speaking of Logan, Janus was currently delivering on that threat.

"What--?" Cough. "What in the name of Galileo do you--?" Cough, cough. "Get away--"

It wasn't easy to push Logan away considering one of the symptoms was vertigo. Janus just put a hand to his face, uncaring for the fingerprints that would leave on his glasses, and gave the gentlest shove, sending him staggering and crashing into his desk, holding his head and making a nauseated noise.

Janus methodically went through his filing system, moving around documents and entire file categories. "The sooner you change, move to the commons, and lay down, the sooner I put all of this back where it belongs."

"I will--" Cough. "I swear I'll--"

"Don't make me get Rage."

Logan glared at him for that one. Rage was currently sitting up downstairs, grumbling about the bug. Every time he coughed, his head erupted. He was also the only one in the Mindscape Logan arguably respected due to their extensive and complicated history. He was also the most violent and would have no qualms kicking Logan's ass over the whole matter. Janus didn't either; neither did Remus. But Logan would ignore them. He would not ignore Rage.

"Change. Downstairs. There's a color-coordinated bed waiting for you. I won't tell you again."

The glare did not alleviated as Logan snapped himself into a different set of clothes--because he was "above onesies," so it was just a blue, somehow still pressed, sleep shirt and plain black pajama pants--and begrudgingly made his way downstairs.

Out of sheer pettiness, Janus continued disordering Logan's room for a few more minutes--what? It was funny--but then the illness caught up with him. He made his way downstairs, snapped into his own sleepwear--yellow, black and red styled like a king snake's pattern--and crawled into bed.

Everyone stared at him.

"What?" Janus demanded, the first cough tearing out of him.

"Wow, kiddo!" Patton beamed. "We all expected you'd be--uh..."

"A raging hypocrite," Virgil finished helpfully, except his tone was unabashedly hateful. Janus had spent years convincing himself that didn't sting by that point, so it ran off his back.

"Nah, Jannie always lays down right away. Only reason he didn't this time was because you're all kinky."

Patton choked. Roman made a melodramatic sound and fell back like he was dying. Virgil screamed into a pillow. Rage flicked lava at him, which Remus caught in his mouth. "Spicy."

"Uh...kiddo, I don't think that's the...word."

"What? Enjoying suffering is kinky. You all like to suffer. Ergo, kinky."

"Not even I have the energy to argue with him," Logan grumbled. "Let it go."

Janus rolled his eyes, plugged his ears, and slipped a sleep mask over his eyes. Everyone was laying down. His job was done. Later he'd get a bubble bath out of the whole affair and the Mindscape could burn while he did. He'd earned it.

#sanders sides fic #sick days #logan sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #rage sanders

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exhibitionsvisited · 1 year

Text

2023

This year I visited 178 exhibitions, here is my top ten.

Vermeer, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

Perhaps not just an exhibition of the year, but one of a lifetime. Astonishing perfection in every brush stroke; words and reproductions do not capture the empathy contained in every painting that survives by Vermeer. Most of which were brought together at the Rijksmuseum for a truly exceptional exhibition. Unlike so many blockbusters of this type, the paintings did not feel (well ok too crushingly) crowded or overwhelmed by the throngs. Each was given space and a carefully considered semi-circular barrier so visitors could fan out from it. There was little in the way of text panels, no need to contextualise with artworks by other artists; the paintings were each given lots of space in sensitively and richly painted and floor-to-ceiling curtains. They were allowed a dignified space in order to sing to us. I contracted Covid-19 from the trip to Amsterdam which developed into Long-Covid; this left me changed fundamentally as a human as I battle(d) fatigue for months on end. I am still not sure if the impact on my health was worth the trip, but as I write these words I know it was. I will always remember the opportunity to see 28 of the 37 Vermeer’s all in one place at one time.

2. Philip Guston, Tate Modern, London

I want to lick and consume Guston’s paintings metaphorically and perhaps even literally, they ingest the eyeballs and linger in the mouth. Seeing the paintings together made so much sense, perhaps the curation sold the narrative but the exhibition made me think that the foray into full-on abstract expressionism was actually the inconsistency; right from the earliest paintings there was story-telling, narrative, figuration, politics, turmoil and a desire to point out what needs to change societally. With the pure abstract works, ambiguity felt too strong, everywhere else the balance was perfect, enough to be led and enough to form your own thoughts. So many works of greatness all together, the final room of grief was as heart-breaking and poetic as it comes.

3. Hilma af Klint and Piet Mondrian, Tate Modern, London

This was an exhibition I had to see. I spent weeks preparing for the trip to go and see it. Having Long-Covid meant that I had to conserve and use my energy intensely - when everything saps strength and leaves you exhausted, from having a shower, to walking up stairs to reading a page of a book, then you have to be careful. T0 go to London for the day to see this exhibition was something I trained and equipped myself for/. I was so glad I did. The exhibition made me feel happy and lightness...an injection of art through the eyes which is so good for the soul. af Klint was paired with Mondrian, which made unexpected sense (to me, I know not to others) with so many surprising overlaps such as in their botanical paintings,and more general link to natural forms, the link to Theosophical thought and of course abstraction. One of my favourite rooms in the exhibition was titled the ether and was filled with sketchbooks, books, works by other artists and this amazing model of Mondrian's New York studio.

4. Mike Nelson, Hayward Gallery, London

A proper art-as-experience encounter, the atmosphere of being within each of the installations by Nelson, restated at the Hayward was palpable; senses, memories, possibilities spiralled outwards, creating new stories and narratives. An embodied and tacit experience of speculative and to be-found-out-and-created knowledge. A novel or series of novellas contained in a material-led happenstance. This felt like the sort of show a big institution is made for, enabling a coming together of elements that would not be possible in the world without the structure behind it.

5. Rebecca Fortnum, Henry Moore Institute, Leeds

In many ways the opposite of the behemoth of the shows of the year above; this was a quiet and intimate exhibition of new drawings, paintings and hand-printed wallpaper by Fortnum. The paintings are transcriptions of sculptures by fifteen women who visited or worked at Auguste’s Rodin’s studio. An intention of the work is to offer insight and exposure to these often-overlooked female sculptors. Rodin is known to have trained women to sculpt in the late nineteenth century when they were not allowed to enter into art schools in France, and employed some of them as studio assistants (or the ‘praticienne’ of the show’s title). Many of the women artists that Fortnum has selected to make work from had in what the text panel calls “an extraordinary, and in many cases unpublished, life narrative.” The show also featured drawings of men that were sculpted by the women artists, creating a gendered distinction between female subjects in paint and male subjects in drawings, albeit that the subject of Fortnum’s work is actually the unpictured female artists.

6. Oliver Ventress, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

A beautifully installed coming together of sculpture, sound and video by Ventress that all speculates on what is out there, what might be out there in a delicate oscillation between despair and hope of what our present and future might be. The work beckoned me in quietly, gently insisting that I spend time with it, to slow down by heartbeat to become in line with the tide in one sculpture or the sound emanating from a large grey spherical sculpture (apparently at 210.42hz the theoretical frequency of the moon. With the tuning in to the resonance of the work, came an opportunity to speculate on the future in the present from a position of calm, not panic, all too rare an opportunity in 2023.

7. Chad McCail, Turntable Gallery and tt88

You gotta love a bit of bonkers; a serpentine urban and rural landscape sweeps the carpet tiles on the high street, giants roam the gallery constructed from discarded detritus of the capitalist waste-culture, brains exude from trees and gonzo lizards pelt churches with walnut-like objects. Poke a bit further though and melancholy descends as the worst aspects of humanity seep everywhere: capitalist-greed, paedophilia, and environmental-apocalypse.

8. Brendan Lyons, Bridewell, Liverpool

A joyful form of institutional critique of painting, one rich in materiality. In one gallery several paintings line the walls, completely conventional in description. In one gallery a range of fixings for hanging paintings line the walls, completely conventional in description. That the description is for one and the same gallery is the magic of Lyons work. Each fixing has been constructed fully from paint, being both itself and a simulacra of the hidden elements of painting, an opening up and unlocking. In the other gallery three new pieces are bold in the way the first gallery is subtle. Ivy creeps down the walls and over canvas; parcel tape tries to fix a smashed glass of an empty frame; multiple blank canvas are tapped to the wall with Gaffa and parcel tape…or look a bit closer.

9. Rosa Barba, Tate Modern, London

The Tanks at Tate Modern are a brilliant space to encounter Barba’s work; the atmosphere of the space evokes the type of places the artist is attracted too, places that are pregnant with a past. 3 35mm film installations affectingly occupy the space, the visuals draw you in, the sound quivers with the image, but perhaps most evocatively the projectors percolate all the space in their industriousness that comes close to humanity in their presence.

10. Lynette Yiadom Boakye, Tate Britain, London

I could have had several number tens on this list, significantly I whittled a shortlist down to five, all of which were painting exhibitions. So why does Yiadim Boayake become number ten? Perhaps it is the way she handles paint, something I wish I could inhabit? Or perhaps it is the way she creates stories with paints? Or perhaps it is the way she conjures personal lives, and memories of histories in the people she paints from imagination? Perhaps it is the way she invents archetypes for our time in the presence of the people? Or perhaps it is because I want to look, to spend time, to look harder, nearer, closer, more attentively? Or perhaps it is because I struggle with the words, the paintings do what (my) words can’t, reach the soul.

In 2023 I visited the following exhibitions:

30 December, Pesellino, National Gallery, London

30 December, Discover Liotard and the Lavergne Family Breakfast, National Gallery, London

15 December, Corrupt Vision, General Practice, Lincoln

15 December, Sam Scorer, Usher Gallery, Lincoln

30 November, 8 Acts of Love, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

24 November, Made in Scunthorpe, Fountain Arts, Scunthorpe

24 November, Glow Up , 2021, Scunthorpe

24 November, Swords into Ploughshares: Knives into Jewels, 2021, Scunthorpe

17 November, Daniel Richter, Thaddaeus Ropac, London

17 November, Endless Variations, Ordovas, London

7 November, Avery Singer, Hauser & Wirth, London

7 November, Christina Quarles, Pilar CorriasLondon

7 November, It All Starts With a Thread, Whitechapel Gallery, London

7 November, Anna Mendelssohn, Whitechapel Gallery, London

7 November, Johanna Billing, Whitechapel Gallery, London

7 November, Nicole Eisenmann, Whitechapel Gallery, London

7 November, In the Studio, Tate Modern, London

7 November, El Anatsui, Tate Modern, London

7 November, Phillip Guston, Tate Modern, London

7 November, Joan Mitchell, Tate Modern, London

14 November, Tread Softly, Gloam, Sheffield

14 November, Paul Housely, Persistence Works, Sheffield

14 November, Autumn Almanac III, Persistence Works, Sheffield

13 November, Nature Positive, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

27 October, Tim Murray-Browne, St. Marks, Lincoln

27 October, Maria Mavropoulou, St. Mary Le Whigford, Lincoln

27 October, Beccy McCray Engine Shed, Lincoln

27 October, Filthy Luker, Lincoln

27 October, Camille Baker, The Drill, Lincoln

27 October, Lumo Workshop and The Network, Lincoln

27 October, Dangerous Times, Lincoln

27 October, Lauren Hubbard, Waterstones, Lincoln

27 October, Touch & Glow, St. Marks,Lincoln

27 October, Marc Renshaw, Wealth Streams Development Agency, Gainsborough

24 October, John Dowling, Link Corridor, Lincoln

24 October, Birth and Design 23, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

21 October, Creativity Unlocked, Salthouse, Lincoln

21 October, Sam Tahmassebi and Harrison Taylor, Cornhill, Lincoln

21 October, Soft Egg, Don't Wear It, Salthouse, Lincoln

21 October, Unweeded, General Practice, Lincoln

21 October, Tyler Barker, Zara Sands, Walking Together, The Collection, Lincoln

21 October, Past and Present Practice, St Mary Le Whigford, Lincoln

21 October, SLQS - Straight from the Horses Mouth, St Mary Le Whigford, Lincoln

21 October, In My Perfect State, Cornhill, Lincoln

20th October, Artists in the Now, The Link Up, Limcoln

19 October, Obscene Pomegranate, Salt House, Lincoln

19 October, Gurminder Sikand, Trace, Nottingham

14 October, Nahem Shoa, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool

14 October, John Moores Painting Prize, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool

14 October, Tom Wood, Walker Art Gallery, Liverpool

14 October, Tim Spooner, Bluecoat, Liverpool

14 October, Brendan Lyons, Bridewell, Liverpool

14 October, About Face, 50_MV, Liverpool

14 October, Anthony Gormley, Crosby beach, , Liverpool

6th October, Grayson Perry, Lincoln Museum

6th October, Oliver Ventress, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

28 September, Ridykeulous (Nicole Eisenman & A.L. Steiner, with Sam Roeck): Ridykes’ Cavern of Fine Inverted Wines and Deviant Videos, Nottingham Contemporary

28 September, Green Unseen, Dajongly Gallery, Nottingham

28 September, Reimagining the Victorians, Dajongly Gallery, Nottingham

28, Community Choice, Usher Gallery, Lincoln

21 September, Method Lab 3, Trace Gallery, Nottingham

21 September, John Becka nd Matthew Cornford, Bonnington Gallery, Nottingham

21 September, Art (School) Histories, Bonnington Gallery, Nottingham

16 September, Chad McCail, Turntable Gallery

16 September, Chad McCail, Turntable 88 Gallery

10 September, Mark Judson, the hub, Sleaford

10 September, Together we are Powerful, the hub, Sleaford

10 September,Adaesi Ukairo, the hub, Sleaford

9, September, George Boole School, Lincoln Museum

9, September, CODED: Digital Art that Defies Definition, Lincoln Museum

8 September, MA Fine Art, University of Northampton

1 September, The Power of Printed Matter, Beam, Nottingham

27 August, A Sense of Place, Willoughby Memorial Gallery, Corbey Glenn

25 August, Bare, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

24 August, Strange Friends, Hauser and Wirth, London

24 August, Connect, Reveal, Conceal, Hauser and Wirth, London

24 August, Holding Space, Hauser and Wirth, London

24 August, To Bend the Ear of the Outer World: Conversations on contemporary abstract painting, Gagosian, London

24 August, Glenn Brown, The Brown Collection, London

24 August, The Belly and the Guts, Alice Amati, London

24 August, Tomas Saraceno, Serpentine Gallery, London

24 August, Lina Ghotmeh, Serpentine Gallery, London

24 August, Gabriel Massan, Serpentine Gallery, London

24 August, Atta Kwami, Serpentine Gallery, London

24 August, Matthew Collings, Wellington Arch, London

24 August, Summer Show, Skarstedt, London

24 August, Malediction and Prayer, Modern Art, London

24 August, Moki Cherry, ICA, London

24 August, Samson Kambalu, London

24 August, Nira Pereg, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Vivian Sundaram, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Jannis Kounellis, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Rosa Barba, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Rasheed Araeen, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Art and Text, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Lawrence Weiner, Tate Modern, London

24 August, Hilma af Klint and Piet Mondrian, Tate Modern, London

10th August, Erwin Wurm, Yorkshire Sculpture Park

10th August, Lindsey Mendrick, Yorkshire Sculpture Park

10th August, Leonardo Drew, Yorkshire Sculpture Park

10th August, Catriona Robertson, Art House, Wakefield

10th August, The Royal Society of Sculptors presents: The Gilbert Bayes Award, Art House, Wakefield

10th August, Tony Wade, Art House, Wakefield

10th August, The Art of the Potter: Ceramics and Sculpture from 1930 to Now, Hepworth, Wakefield

10th August, If Not Now, When? Generations of Women in Sculpture in Britain, 1960 – 2022, Hepworth, Wakefield

10th August, Hurvin Anderson Curates, Hepworth, Wakefield

10th August, Hurvin Anderson, Hepworth, Wakefield

25, July, Kresiah Mukwazhi: Kirawa, Nottingham Contemporary

25, July, Abbas Zahedi: Holding a Heart in Artifice, Nottingham Contemporary

25, July, Eva Koťátková: How many giraffes are in the air we breathe? , Nottingham Contemporary

25, July, Jade Foster, TG, Nottingham

25, July, Line Nielsen, Beam, Nottingham

25, July, Residents & Members | Video Materials, Primary, Nottingham

25, July, Sam Keogh, Primary, Nottingham

21 July, The Weight of Words, Henry Moore Institute, Leeds

21 July, Egon Altdorf, Henry Moore Institute, Leeds

21 July, Things Left Unsaid: Percy Wyndham Lewis, Iris Barry, Helen Saunders and the story of Praxitella, Leeds Art Gallery

7th July, Patrick Hartigan, Moon Grove, Manchester

7th July, Office of Arte Útil, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, Standardisation and Deviation The Whitworth Story, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, (Un)defining Queer, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, Traces of Displacement, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, Albrecht Durer, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, Economics the Blockbuster – It’s not Business as Usual, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, Tino Sehgal, Whitworth Art Gallery, Manchester

7th July, The Poetics of Water, Castlefield Gallery, Manchester

7th July, Yaoi Kusama, Factory International, Manchester

7th July, What's New?, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Friends, Family and Other Animals, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Rethinking the Grand Tour, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Room to Breathe, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Climate Justice, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Trading Station, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Suzanne Lacy, Manchester Art Gallery

7th July, Out of the Crate, Manchester Art Gallery

11 June, Demo Valley, Peter de Wint building, Lincoln

3 June, Sonia Boyce, Leeds Art Gallery

20 May,Opera North: Race, Representation and Authenticity, 1979–2023, The Stanley & Audrey Burton Gallery, Leeds

20 May, Arcadia for All? Rethinking Landscape Painting Now, The Stanley & Audrey Burton Gallery, Leeds

20 May, Andrew Black, The Tetley, Leeds

20 May, Samra Mayanja, The Tetley, Leeds

20 May, Rebecca Fortnum, Henry Moore Institute, Leeds

20 May, Michael E Smith, Henry Moore Institute, Leeds

19 May, Re:Collection, Lincoln Museum

26 March, Vermeer, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

26 March, Rijksmuseum & Slavery, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

26 March, Operation Night Watch, Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam

25 March, Choosing Vincent, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam

25 March, Titus is Back Home ,Rembrant House, Amsterdam

25 March, The Art of Drawing,Rembrant House, Amsterdam

24 March, Visitant Queens, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

19 March, Charlotte Johnnesson, Nottingham contemporary

19 March, Carolyn Lazzard, Nottingham contemporary

19 March, Rosalind Nasashibi, Nottingham Contemporary

19 March, A Commonplace, Nottingham Contemporary

Helen Dearnley, St Mary le Whigford, Lincoln

18 March, Annie Morrad and Joana Coffee Cerda, Cornhill, Lincoln

13 March, Blubber, General Practice, Lincoln

26 February, Harriet Plewis, General Practice, Lincoln

24 February, Peter Doig, Courtaud Gallery, London

24 February, John Akomfrah, Tate Britain, London

24 February, Haroon Mirza, Lisson Gallery London

24 February, Lines of Empathy, Patrick Heide Gallery, London

24 February, Atiena R. Kilfa, Camden Arts Centre, London

24 February, Mohamed Sami, Camden Arts Centre, London

24 February, Hannah Quinlan and Rosie Hastings, Tate Britain, London

24 February, Aubery Williams, Tate Britain, London

24 February, Lynette Yiadim Boayake, Tate Britain, London

24 February, Ingela Ihrman, Gasworks, London

24 February, group show, Corvi Mora, London

24 February, Nakeya Brown, Greengrassi, London

24 February, Mike Nelson, Hayward Gallery, London

19 February, Horror in the Modernist Block, Ikon Gallery, Birmingham

10th February, Twin Realms, General Practice, Lincoln

27th January, Kai Speed and H.Eaven, General Practice, Lincoln

27th January, David Remfrey, Usher Gallery, Lincoln

20th January, Hollow Earth, Nottingham Contemporary

16th January, Bodies of Practice, Project Space Plus, Lincoln

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zodiyack · 3 years

Text

Niffler’s New Discovery

Requested by anon: May I request a the youngest Shelby sister x Newt Scamander story? The Shelby sister is nothing like her siblings. She’s shy, reads books like they’re oxygen, loves animals, and doesn’t drink, smoke, or anything like that. She doesn’t even swear, she’s so pure. She also loves his animals. And Tommy acts like her father but she loves her brother very much. Same as her other brothers. They find out she’s dating him and get all overprotective. Sorry if this is too specific. I just love the idea of a Shelby sister who’s nothing like her siblings. Because most of the Shelby reader fics always have them smoking and all that. Which they are fun to read, but it’s nice to see something different. Feel free to pick the Scenario. :)

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Female!Shelby!Innocent!Reader

Warnings: Swearing (not from reader ofc :)) slight suggestiveness (also not from reader), fluff, ✨m a g i c✨

Words: 1,303

Summary: (See Request...also I thought the gif was cute, so anon, I based it off the gif kinda)

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow, @marquelapage, @stuckysslag, @psychkunox, @i-love-superhero

Masterlist | Fantastic Beasts (AWTFT) Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

At first, they had no problem keeping their relationship hidden from her overly protective family, but the troublemaker Newt constantly had to chase down and return to his case was the thing that exposed them. The bloody Niffler just loved things that shined. Who could blame it though? It was it’s nature.

Just as it was the Shelby brothers nature to react the way they did. Violent, perhaps, but of their nature. Their possessive, over the top protective, shitty, big brother, nature.

And it all started, one late afternoon...

The older Shelby trio, not counting Ada with her age advance over John, returned home after a nice night out at the pub. Sure, the sun hadn’t set yet, but Pol wanted them to return home a little earlier today for a family meeting. The meeting included everyone, minus the innocent angel whom the Shelbys called their sister.

It was the perfect time to have Newt over. The perfect time to explore the secret world hidden inside his little brief case. If only they knew the pesky Niffler had been waiting.

“Are you sure they won’t suspect anything of my presence?” Newt hesitated, one foot hovering above the wooden flooring of Y/n’s bedroom, the other resting on the rooftop outside her window.

She ushered him in the rest of the way, making sure to lock her door after checking that no one was around. “Positive. Family meetings take a while, so we’re good on time. How about you? Are you sure this is good with the council?”

He had a guilt-ridden look across his face as he looked around. “There are some things the council doesn’t have to know.” A nervous laugh rumbled in his throat before he cleared it and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Uh huh... Well, just promise me that you won’t get into any serious trouble for this, alright Newton?” The blushing hufflepuff gave his lover a quick nod, as well as a smile in return for the little peck she placed upon his cheek, pinkening his skin further down his neck- it was no surprise that Newt was terribly new to receiving affection from anything other than his beasts that resided in his case.

“S-shall we be going?” He broke the tension, gesturing to the case in front of them.

“Boys.” Polly stopped the bickering that had started up between John and Tommy, her eyes drifting toward the ceiling, the trios’ following. “Your sister’s been awfully quiet.”

John cackled, “Oh no, maybe she snuck out, went to have a quick fuck with some guy off the streets, didn’t she Pol?” His rather sarcastic tone suggested his knowledge that the referenced behavior was most certainly unlike his little sister, but the immaturity of John Shelby simply couldn’t resist making a joke.

Polly, however, was in no mood for John’s incessant kidding. Her hand met the back of his head, a disapproving furrow of her brows telling him to stop talking. “I’m being serious, you idiot. It’s more quiet than usual.”

“And what about it, Pol?” Tommy spoke after taking a drag from his cigarette, an eyebrow quirked.

“If she really does have a boy up there, he better pray he’s out the window by the time we get up there.”

Tommy’s brow, lowered after asking Polly how she’d respond, lifted back once again. “There’s no God for him to pray to, Arthur. The boy is fucked, plain and simple.”

“In more ways than one.”

John’s childish cackles were hushed into silence, a slap sounding throughout the room prior to their ceasing. A hand rubbing the back of his head, John glared at his aunt, yet continued the discussion of what to do with Y/n nonetheless.

The past ten minutes had been spent trying to block off any and all exists for the pesky little Niffler. Each time it attempted to escape the bedroom, Y/n or Newt were quick to block it off. It amazed Y/n how many places the little creature could scurry off through. Unfortunately, with their wild-goose-chase, footsteps turned to stomps...well, really running, but downstairs it was more likely to sound aggressive, such as the hard thud of a Blinder’s boot on the floor of the Garrison.

It was inevitable; the possibility of being caught, but the fact seemed to slip their minds as they both tried to corner the Niffler, as well as capture it once more. Every shiny thing, ranging from jewelry to bullet casings, or things that caught her eye, made into décor (gifted from her brothers, as she would never touch a gun unless need be) were being stolen as the creature evaded capture.

Newt shot Y/n a sorry look each time one of her belongings were snatched up by the Niffler. It touched her heart, truly, it did, but now was not the time to swoon. Y/n froze as the Niffler wandered over to a bottle. Wine? Champagne? She didn’t know; Y/n never drank- the bottle was a gift from her sister in law, which she couldn’t turn down without upsetting her, so it soon became another...decoration.

Atop the bottle was shimmery, gold-like, wrapping. Of course it caught the mischievous little shine-thief’s eye. It pulled and pulled, Y/n and Newt made eye contact as the uneasy feeling in their guts mirrored, until POP!

The door broke open with a loud bang, Arthur standing confused before getting both a Niffler and a cork to the space between his brows. While Y/n flinched, Newt only looked away in shame.

“What. The. Literal. Fuck. Was. That?” John gapped. His usual remark would be to poke fun, but he too was in great shock, he couldn’t even think of anything humorous.

“A- ...A Niffler.” Newt stuttered. His rather shy demeanor was rarely common around Y/n, so she new he was slightly uncomfortable the second his hand lifted to itch the back of his neck as his eyes found interest in the floorboards.

“Did I fuckin’ ask you?” John narrowed his eyes at the timid wizard.

It was unusual for Y/n to get angry, but the unjustness of John’s attitude toward her lover didn’t sit well with her. “Leave him alone!”

Now there was more to be shocked about. “I- what?”

“You heard me, John. You, Arthur, and Thomas. Leave Newt alone. He didn’t mean for this to happen, so he shouldn’t be harassed by you three. Want to question him? Have Pol do it, but the second you come to my room and bully my lover is the second you cross the line.”

Tommy, amused, let out a little chuckle as he raised his eyebrows.

“Something funny to you, Thomas? ‘Cause I don’t think any of us are laughing.”

“No, sister, nothing is of humor to me.” He muttered despite dawning a lopsided smirk. Tommy looked at his brothers and nodded his head toward the stairs before walking away. Although he was leaving, he never said he wouldn’t poke at the boy some more. Now just wasn’t worth it; he was already shaking in his boots as it is.

“Tommy- where- where’re you goin’?” John did a double take, following shortly after.

Arthur rubbed the red spot where he’d been nailed by the creature and it’s new favorite possession, proved by it cuddling the cork close to it’s body on the floor where it had landed after hitting Arthur. He excused himself politely before walking in the same direction as his brothers, still rubbing at his soon-to-be-bruising injury all the way down.

Newt took the opportunity to grab the niffler and tickle Y/n’s possessions from his tummy before running over and tucking him in the case. The anger faded from Y/n’s eyes as she watched her lover. “It looks as though the Niffler has discovered something new.” Newt chuckled lightly, easing up slowly.

“New indeed.”

1K notes · View notes

datsderbunnyblog · 3 years

Text

Discworld’s Best Autistic Power Moves

Vimes pretending not to understand things

Carrot pretending not to understand things

Vetinari pretending not to understand things (Going Postal)

"If you stick a broom up my arse I could probably sweep the floor, too," said a voice. Moist realized it was his. His brain was a mess. It had come as a shock to him that the afterlife was this one. Lord Vetinari gave him a long, long look. "Well, if you wish," he said, and turned to a hovering clerk. "Drumknott, does the housekeeper have a store cupboard on this floor, do you know?"

Drumknott joining in with Vetinari pretending not to understand things (Going Postal)

"Oh, yes, my lord," said the clerk. "Shall I--"

Vetinari asking for warning when Moist is joking (Going Postal)

“Oh, I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized,’ said Lord Vetinari, turning back to Moist. ‘Do tell me if you feel obliged to make another one, will you?’

That time Vetinari demanded a stim toy (The Science of Discworld IV)

“Lord Vetinari looked around and said, ‘Shouldn’t I have a gavel? You know, one of those things judges bang on the table. I feel quite naked without one.’

A gavel was acquired from somewhere at speed and handed to his Lordship, who banged it once or twice in a kind of happiness.”

[See also: Vetinari playing with Leonard’s post-it note in Men At Arms, Vetinari playing with the ice in his inkwell in The Truth]

Vimes keeping his office really cold

Vetinari keeping his office really cold

Carrot taking advantage of the fact that his literal thinking is common knowledge (please see: every single book Carrot appears in)

Sybil deploying Sarcasm™️ (The Fifth Elephant)

‘I think I recognize the type, yes,’ said Sybil, with an irony that failed to register with Sam Vimes until some days later.

The entire concept of the Thieves’ Guild is the single most autistic thing I’ve ever heard in my life

“Crime was always with us, he reasoned, and therefore, if you were going to have crime, it at least should be organised crime... That way, everyone could plan ahead, said Lord Vetinari, and part of the uncertainty had been removed from the chaos that is life.”

Sybil knitting and darning and cooking, despite being the richest woman in the city, because it’s What Good Wives Are Supposed To Do

Sybil getting angry at Serafine von Uberwald because she was Rude (The Fifth Elephant)

“Sybil strode towards the Baroness and grabbed her. ‘You never answered a single letter! All those years I wrote to you!’

The Baroness stared at her in amazement, as people so often did when struck with Sybil’s non sequiturs.”

Vetinari and Vimes developing a whole system of non-verbal communication (Thud!)

“He gave Vetinari the look which said: if you take this any further I will have to lie.

Vetinari returned one which said: I know.

‘You yourself are not too badly injured?’ the Patrician said aloud.

‘Just a few scratches, sir,’ said Vimes.

Vetinari gave him a look which said: broken ribs, I’m certain of it.

Vimes returned one which said: nothing.”

Vetinari and Vimes also using Very Blunt verbal communication in the same conversation (Thud!)

“’What would you do if I asked you an outright question, Vimes?’

‘I’d tell you a downright lie, sir.’

‘Then I will not do so,’ said Vetinari, smiling faintly.

‘Thank you, sir. Nor will I.’”

William de Worde very carefully rephrasing things so that he’s Not Technically Lying (The Truth)

Drumknott standing up to Vetinari on the matter of paperclips (Unseen Academicals)

"’I was wondering if I could just add something, sir,’ said the secretary solemnly.

‘The floor is yours, Drumknott.’

‘I would not like it thought that I do not buy my own paperclips, sir. I enjoy owning my own paperclips. It means that they are mine. I thought it helpful I should tell you that in a measured and non-confrontational way.’

Vetinari looked at the ceiling for a few moments and then said: ‘Thank you for your frankness. I shall consider the record straightened and the matter closed.’

‘Thank you, sir.’”

Throw the book at him, Carrot. (Guards! Guards!)

(More to be added as they occur to me, in my usual chaotic way, please do feel free to add your own. ADHD Edition coming soon, stay tuned!)

#discworld autistic power moves #discworld neurodiversity #havelock vetinari #sam vimes #carrot ironfoundersson #sybil ramkin #rufus drumknott #william de worde #gnu terry pratchett

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mandowh0re · 3 years

Text

The One Where Everybody Finds Out

Summary: The team finds out about you and Loki.

A/N: So I literally took the entire episode of The One Where Everybody Finds Out from Friends and rewrote it for the Avengers. This may have been done before with either Loki or another character, and I've definitely seen it done with other Friends episodes. This is super long because I literally used every line of dialogue in every scene (except for Ross attempting to win the apartment) and then added or changed them enough to fit the characters. Some of this may be OOC but it was the best I could do with the situation they're all in. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Implied smut

Word Count: 6274

Tony as Ross, Natasha as Rachel and Phoebe, Wanda as Rachel and Phoebe, Peter as Phoebe, Loki as Chandler, reader as Monica, and Thor as Joey.

Happy Reading!

“Oh, hey you guys, look! They’re installing the new training grounds outside!”

There’s collective sounds of acknowledgement from the team as they all get up from their spots, walking over to where Wanda stood in front of the floor to ceiling windows. You can feel Loki standing a bit too close to your back, but luckily everyone is too distracted to notice.

“I’d say from the looks of it, Tony went all out.” Natasha states, looking at all the new fancy equipment that was being unloaded and installed.

“Ironically, it was actually Steve who went all out. I just paid for it.”

“Awh, I’ll miss sweating my tits off in that tiny gym.” Natasha says. You snicker.

“That’s repulsive.” Loki rolls his eyes and returns to his place on the couch.

Tony glares at Nat, “Hey, it’s not my fault that the AC is always broken.”

“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Bucky asks.

“Not an HVAC mechanic. There’s a big difference, tough guy.”

“I am excited for this new space! I will be able to call upon the lightning in training!” Thor booms.

“Yes, and kill everyone on the field.” Loki replies nonchalantly, never looking up from his book.

Thor rolls his eyes and everyone returns to their former spots. You sit back in your spot next to Loki, sitting criss cross on the couch and discreetly touching your knee to high thigh.

It’s the small touches you sneak when you think nobody is looking, that make your heart skip just a beat faster.

***

“Oh my gods, I love this setup! It's got something for everyone!” Tony is absolutely giddy with excitement, walking around the newly installed equipment that had been set up outside, “Isn’t it perfect? I never realized how little we were working with before!”

“Well that is because we really only ever trained by fighting hand to hand.” Natasha replies, inspecting part of the obstacle course.

Tony nods, putting his hands in his pockets. He watches as Peter easily climbs a wall that’s part of the course Nat is looking at.

“It’s amazing!” Wanda chirps, “Steve really outdid himself this time.”

“Speaking of Steve, he was supposed to meet us out here like ten minutes ago. I’m gonna go find him.” Tony says, pulling his phone out to try and get a hold of his boyfriend.

As the billionaire disappears into the compound, Nat walks up to Wanda.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I can’t wait to sweat my tits off out here.” She says, the comment matching the one she made a few days ago.

Wanda lets out a quiet cackle, watching as Nat walks towards some machinery across the yard that caught her eye.

Wanda walks towards the teenager and looks around, excited to have so much more to practice and train her magic with. While Loki was more than glad to train with her using his own magic, she always had to hold back with almost everyone else.

She watches as Peter jumps and climbs his way through the course, looking like he’s having the time of his life, when she sees a separate movement out of the corner of her eye. She looks up to see you and Loki standing in a window, facing each other and talking.

“Oh look! There’s Y/N and Loki. Hey!” She waves up at them, but they don’t see her.

Peter’s attention is now caught and he stops in his tracks, looking up at the same window.

“Hey!” Peter calls, waving his own hands.

Suddenly, you and Loki are stripping each other of clothes, and Peter makes a squaking sound, covering his eyes.

“Ah! Oh!” Wanda shouts, her eyes blowing wide as she sees the events unfold. She uses her magic to pull Peter back to her so she can shield his innocent eyes, “Ahh!”

“What?” Nat asks, jogging back up to the pair.

Wanda points to the window that harbored the offending scene, with the hand that isn’t currently shielding Peter’s eyes.

“Y/N and Loki! Y/N and Loki!”

Nat looks up to see what the other two are flipping out about, only to see Loki shove you up against the window, completely bare.

“Oh my god!” Nat’s voice goes up an octave.

“Oh!”

“Oh my god!”

“Y/N and Loki!” Wanda screams.

“Oh my god!”

“My eyes! My eyes!” Peter screams. Wanda turns them both away from the building.

“Peter! Wanda!” Nat steps in front of them, hands out to try and calm them.

“Oh!” Wanda yells again, screwing here eyes shut.

“Okay! It’s okay! It’s okay!” Nat tries to placate them.

Peter removes Wanda’s hand from his face, “No! They’re doing it!” He yells, turning to point at you and Loki before Nat quickly grabs his arm and turns him back to her.

“I know! I know! I know!”

“You know?” Peter yells back.

“You know?” Wanda echoes him.

“Yes! I know, and Thor knows, but Tony doesn’t know so you have to stop screaming!”

Out of nowhere, Tony walks up to the small group, “Hey, what’s going on?”

The three of them scream in surprise, Peter throwing his hands in the air and jumping, screaming the loudest.

“Hi! Hi!”

Concern etches itself on Tony’s face, “What? What?” He steps towards his kid, arms reaching out and eyes scanning for any injuries.

“Hi! Nothing!” Peter yells, jumping around Tony to make him look away from the compound. He really didn’t need to see his daughter being fucked against a window by the one person on the team he trusts least, “Oh, gods, we’re just so excited about all the new equipment!” Peter claps his hands.

Tony smiles, now realizing it’s all just Peter having a hyperactive episode, “Yeah, actually it looks really good-” He says as he turns back to look at everything, but is cut off when Wanda yells and copies Peter’s movements to pull Tony’s gaze back away from the building.

“It looks amazing!” She screams, clapping and jumping up and down next to Peter.

Nat steps around Tony too so he doesn’t have a reason to turn back around.

“Get in here! Come on!” Peter yells, motioning for his father figure to join their happy dance.

Tony smiles before letting out a happy squeal and jumping into the little group dance, all of them jumping and screaming, aside from Natasha who was smirking and biting her lip to keep from laughing.

***

“You mean whenever Y/N and Loki were like, you know, doing laundry. Or going grocery shopping, or- Oh!” Wanda gasps, “All that time Y/N spent on the phone with Margo back in her hometown?”

They sit on Wanda’s bed, coffee in hand. Peter was leaned against her headboard playing Among Us on his phone, sound blocking headphones in. He was traumatized from what he saw earlier in the day, and he didn’t feel like seeing or talking to anyone, so the girls let him hang with them while they gossiped.

Nat nods, “Uh huh. Doing it, doing it, phone doing it.”

Wanda gasps again, “Oh, I can’t believe it! I mean I think it’s great!” There’s a pause, “For him. She might be able to do better.”

There’s a knock at the door before it opens slightly to reveal Thor. He leans against the doorframe and crosses his arms.

“Hello, what are you all up to?”

“Thor! Come here!” Nat says, jumping up and pulling him into the room, closing the door behind him.

Thor moves to sit on the desk chair, which looks like a doll chair compared to him, “What?”

“Wanda and Peter just found out about Loki and Y/N.”

Thor’s brows furrow and his eyes get wide, “You mean how they’re friends and nothing more?” His eyes narrow at the ex-assassin.

Nat rolls her eyes, “No, no Thor. They know. We were outside checking out the new training grounds and we saw them doing it through the window. Actually we saw them doing it up against the window.”

Wanda joins in, “Okay, so now they know you know,” She points to Thor, “And they don’t know that Nat knows?”

The god looks like he’s thinking hard for a moment before he speaks, “... Yes. But, you know what? It doesn’t matter who knows what. Now, enough of us know, that we could just tell them we know!” He says excitedly, “Then all the lying and secrets will finally be over!”

Nat nods, and Wanda gets a smirk on her face.

“Or, we could not tell them we know, and have a little fun of our own!” The witch giggles.

“Wait, well what do you mean?” Nat asks, turning back to face Wanda.

“Well every time that they say they’re like, doing laundry, we’ll just give them a bunch of laundry to do!”

Nat’s mouth forms an ‘O’ in understanding, “Ohh,” She claps silently, “I would enjoy that.”

Thor looks horrified, “Oh no no no. No wait wait. You know what would be even more fun? Telling them.”

Nat looks at him, but she’s already hyped up, “Nah, I wanna do Wanda’s thing.”

“I can’t take anymore-”

“Oh you don’t have to do anything. Just don’t tell them that we know!” Wanda snaps.

“No! I can’t take any more secrets!” Thor whines, running a hand down his face, “I’ve got your secrets, I’ve got their secrets, I’ve got secrets of my own, you know.”

“You don’t have any secrets.” Nat narrows her eyes.

“Oh yeah? You don’t know about Squish, my stuffed octopus.” Thor throes back before his eyes go wide.

It’s silent between all of them for a few seconds before Wanda clears her throat, “So, um,” She veers the conversation back to the situation at hand, turning back to Nat, “How are we gonna mess with them?”

Thor groans and leans back in the chair.

“Well, you could use your position, you know, as the best friend. And then I would use, you know, the strongest tool at my disposal. My sexuality.”

There’s another knock at the door.

“Come in!” Wanda calls.

The door opens to reveal Loki. Peter blushes furiously when he looks up to see the other god, and looks back to down, gluing his eyes on his phone.

“Hello, children.”

Everyone in the room replies with hellos.

“Y/N cannot find her journal. Have any of you heathens seen it?”

There’s a string of denials, nobody having seen the black leather journal you tend to carry around.

Nat turns to Wanda and winks, noticing Peter is now looking at her, and stands up to head towards Loki.

“Uh, hello?” Loki says, watching Nat approach him.

“Hey,” She says, finally stepping in front of him, “Oh wow, that jacket looks great on you.”

Loki quirks a brow and glances down at his clothing, then back to Nat, “Um, thanks?”

“Yeah, the material looks so soft,” She says as she strokes his arm, “Oh hello muscles,” She purrs, squeezing his bicep, “Have you been working out?”

Loki looks incredibly puzzled, “Yes, but need I remind you I am also a god.”

Suddenly Nat is giggling. Since when-

“Are you ill?”

She finishes giggling and looks in his eyes, “Well, if you really want to know,” She looks down at her hands, “Um- Oh I can’t tell you this.”

Loki shifts his weight onto the other foot, glancing at the other three behind her, then focusing back on her.

“While I do not enjoy discussing emotions, I can tolerate you more than most humans. If you would like to discuss something on your mind, I would not object.”

“Well actually, you’re the one person I can’t tell this to, and the one person I want to the most.”

“What the Norns is going on?” He asks, growing increasingly disturbed by this interaction.

“I think it’s just, you know, that I haven’t been with someone in so long and, you know how sometimes you’re looking for something and you just don’t even see that it’s right there in front of you dressed in a black suit…”

Loki glances down at himself again and his brows fly up for a split second as he looks back up to Nat.

“Oh no, have I said too much?” She coos, placing a hand on her chest, “Well, it’s just something to think about. I know I will.” She giggles again and walks over to where she set her mug down, bending at the waist and making an ‘oop’ sound, picking it up and then walks out of the room and past Loki, shooting him a wink.

Loki raises a brow at Thor, who has his face in his hands. Wanda is biting her lip to stop from bursting into a fit of laughter, and Peter’s cheeks are dusted pink with his eyes wide in shock.

***

“You are so cute. How did you get to be so cute?” You ask, looking down at Loki. He’s sprawled on his bed with his arm around you, tracing his fingers along your spine.

“I am not cute. I am a god. Handsome or pretty will do.”

You giggle in response, “Okay now you’re even cuter.” You tease, leaning down to kiss him.

“You know, that seems to be a popular opinion today, I must say.”

“What?”

“Well, the weirdest thing happened earlier today. I think… I believe Natasha was coming onto me.”

You chuckle, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, I think Natasha thinks I’m alluring.”

You look up at the wall and quirk a brow, then look back at him, “It’s not possible.”

“Ow?” Loki says, lifting his hands in a motion akin to ‘what the hel’.

You chuckle, “I’m sorry, it’s just… I mean Nat just thinks of you in a charming, sexless kind of way.”

“Oh well you know I… I can’t hear that enough.”

“I’m sorry, I just think you misunderstood her.”

Loki sits up, “No, I did not misunderstand. Humans are simple creatures-”

You narrow your eyes.

“Except for you, my darling,” He tries to placate, “But she was all over me. She touched my bicep for crying out loud.”

You grab his arm, and smirk, “This bicep?”

“Well it’s not flexed right now.”

You snort and fall back onto the bed in a fit of giggles.

***

You walk out of the elevator into the common room, headed to the kitchenette for some water.

“Hey, Y/N. What are you doing right now? You wanna come see a movie with us?” Nat asks, flipping through her magazine.

You stutter in your movements, hoping nobody noticed, and continue getting your water, “Uh, you know what, I was actually gonna do some laundry.”

You were out on a jog when Loki had texted you a long paragraph about what he wanted to do to you when you got back. Needless to say, you cut your jog short, turned around, and came straight back. When you turned back around to face your friends, you glanced at Loki, who was sitting on the loveseat with a book in hand. The fucker had the audacity to smirk.

Nat and Wanda look at each other, sharing a knowing look.

“Loki, you wanna do it with me?”

He closes his book and sets it down next to him, standing off of the couch, “Sure, I’ll do it with you.”

Nat smirks and stands, “Okay great! Hold on a sec.” She says before running out of the room. She returns a few minutes later with a large hamper full of laundry, “Ugh, here you go,” She sets it down behind the couch, “You don’t mind do you? That would really help me out a lot. Thanks!”

“Uh…” You look at her, not really sure how to respond.

“Oh! I have some too!” Wanda says.

You finally come out of your stupor, “Wait! Why am I doing everyone’s laundry? Do your own!”

Wanda makes a pouty face, “Because you love us and we asked nicely?”

You look at her incredulously before rolling your eyes, “Fine.”

Nat looks at her watch, “Oh! Alright, honey, we’d better go if we wanna catch that movie.”

They grab their jackets and bags, saying goodbye as they leave.

“Bye, Loki! I miss you already.” Nat says as she passes him, pinching his butt before entering the elevator with Wanda.

Once the doors slide shut, Loki looks at you, “Okay, did you see that?” He says hysterically, “With the inappropriate and the pinching?”

You nod, “Actually I did.”

“Okay so now do you believe that she’s attracted to me?”

You blink a few times, pieces of the situation coming together. Suddenly, your heart drops to your stomach.

“Oh my gods!” You look at the elevator and step around the counter towards the common room where Loki stood, “Oh my gods, she knows about us!”

“You are serious??”

“Natasha knows and she’s just trying to freak us out!” You throw your hands in the air, water bottle still clutched, “That’s the only explanation for it!”

Loki leans his head forward and raises his brows, “Okay but what about my pinchable butt and my bulging biceps?” He throws out an arm and runs his opposite hand over the lean limb before recognition settles over his face, “She knows!”

***

The door to Thor’s room flies open, startling the god, and both you and Loki enter.

“Thor.” Loki snaps, walking up to him, you hot on his tail. It looks like he had been in the middle of a nap.

“Yeah?” He says, throwing Squish behind a pillow.

You roll your eyes and Loki runs a hand down his face.

“Natasha knows about us.” Loki says, motioning between you and him.

Thor looks at you before furrowing his brows, “Well I didn’t tell them!”

“Them?” You hiss, “Who’s them?”

Thor looks guilty as he looks between the two of you, “Uhh, Natasha… And Thor.”

“Thor…” You warn.

“... And Wanda and Peter.”

You and Loki look at each other in annoyment.

Thor stands from his bed, “I would have told you, but they made me promise not to tell!”

“Odin’s beard!” Loki bites.

“I’m sorry!” Thor apologizes, and he does look sorry, “But hey! It’s over now, right? Cause you can tell them you know they know, and I can go back to knowing absolutely nothing!”

An idea pops into your mind, “Unless-”

“No, not ‘unless’! Look, this must end now!”

You ignore Thor’s small outburst, “Oh man, they think they are so slick messing with us! But see they don’t know that we know that they know. So…”

Thor looks confused as all hell by now, but realization dawns on Loki, “Ah, yes. The pranksters become the victims!”

Thor rolls his eyes, making an irritated noise, and flops back onto his bed.

***

Natasha, Wanda, and Peter are all hanging out in the common room playing Mario Kart when Natasha’s phone rings.

She pauses the game, putting the controller down and grabbing her phone, noticing the caller ID.

“It’s Loki!” She yelps, and suddenly she has both Peter’s and Wanda’s undivided attention.

They had filled Peter in on their plan, and he was more than happy to help prank you and Loki after what he had been inadvertently forced to see.

“Answer it!” Peter says, scooting closer.

“On speaker!” Wanda adds.

Natasha slides the green button and answers the call, putting it on speaker, “Hello, you.” She says in a sultry tone.

“Hello, Natasha. I have been thinking about you all day.” Loki’s voice fills the room.

Natasha almost chokes, and the other two snap their gaze to the phone, “Huh?”

“Well you know, that thing you said before. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intrigued.”

“Really?” She asks, completely caught off guard.

“Yes, listen, why don’t you come to my room tonight and I’ll let you feel my muscles. Or maybe more.”

Natasha’s mouth falls open, as do the others’, and she grasps for some sort of answer.

“I’ll have to get back to you on that. Okay bye.” She hits end and her hands fly to her hair.

“Oh my god!” Wanda squeaks.

“He wants you to go over and feel his muscles and more!” Peter adds.

“Are you kidding?” Natasha says, trying to wrap the situation around her head, “I cannot believe he would to that to-” She cuts off mid sentence as a thought forms in her head. She turns slowly to face Thor, who had been munching on a slice of pizza while watching the Mario Kart tournament, “Thor…” Natasha says, “Do they know that we know?”

He looks at her with a guilty expression, and it’s quiet for a second too long before he answers, “No…”

“Thor…” This time his name is spoken in a warning tone.

He nods slowly, “They know you know.”

Natasha makes a noise of frustration, “I knew it! Oh, I cannot believe those two!”

“They thought that they could mess with us? They’re trying to mess with us?” Wanda guffaws, ��They don’t know that we know they know we know.”

Thor groans behind them.

“And Thor you can’t say anything!” Peter turns and tells him.

He throws his hands in the air, “Couldn’t if I wanted to!”

***

Wanda, Nat, and Peter had ended their video game and moved to the couch to talk amongst themselves. You and Loki are standing in the doorway.

“Look at them, they’re panicked!” You whisper.

“Oh, yes. They’re definitely going to crack.” Loki whispers back.

You nod, “Oh yeah.”

Nat turns to look over her shoulder at the two of you and then looks back at her partners in crime.

“Alright, alright, if he wants a date, he’s gonna get a date.” She says, tucking back a strand of hair, “Alright, I’m gonna go.” She adjusts her jacket.

“Good luck!” Peter whispers.

Wanda is giving a subtle thumbs up, “Be sexy.”

Nat rolls her eyes, “Please.” She stands and walks towards Loki with a sexy smirk, swaying her hips back and forth.

He sees her coming and he pushes you away, standing to his full height and pocketing his hands.

You and Nat exchange a fleeting look before her focus is back on Loki.

“So, Loki, I’d love to come by tonight.”

The god’s smug smirk falls for a moment, before he forces it back, “Really?”

“Oh absolutely, should we say around seven?”

Loki tilts his head up slightly, trying to keep his composure, “Yes.”

Nat nods, “Good. I’m really looking forward to you and me having sexual intercourse.” She winks and walks back to her spot on the couch.

Loki gives you a desperate look and you hold your hands up, trying to calm him down.

***

The three troublemakers plus Thor are in Nat’s room. She’s wearing a black, form fitting dress that reaches her mid thigh, with knee high leather boots. Her red hair is straightened and the top layer of her hair is pulled back into a braid in the back of her head. Her makeup is mostly natural, with a subtle green tint on her lids. A modest amount of glitter dusted her cheekbones.

Wanda claps several times, “Showtime!”

“Okay, Peter, pick out a perfume. Over on my dresser. And Thor, can you go grab me a bottle of wine and some glasses?”

Thor huffs but does as he’s asked, leaving the room to fetch the items.

Peter walks up to her with a small bottle filled with purple liquid, “I like this one!”

Nat smiles at him, “One of my favorites,” She stretches her arms out and closes her eyes, “Hit me.”

Peter sprays a cloud of the scent in front of her, and she spins through it.

Thor returns a few minutes later with a bottle of sweet red and two crystal glasses.

~Meanwhile~

You straighten out Loki’s collar and smooth out his jacket.

“Alright, you’ll be great. You just make her think that you want to have sex with her, it’ll totally freak her out.” You spray breath freshener into his mouth and he recoils, not expecting the intrusive taste.

“Okay listen, how far am I going to have to go with her?”

“Relax! She’s gonna give in way before you do!”

“How do you know??” He asks, and he briefly asks himself how he even got caught up in this mess.

“Because you’re on my team, and my team always wins.”

He scrunches his face at you, “At this?” He makes a general motion with his hands.

You roll your eyes, “Just go get some!” You grab his face and give him a quick kiss before smacking his butt, “Go!”

You run to his bathroom and hide inside, listening to the events in the room unfold.

Peter, Wanda, and Natasha are all outside of Loki’s room.

Wanda hands the wine and glasses to Natasha, “Okay, Nat. Now we’re gonna try to listen from right here. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh wait!” Wanda reaches out and unzips the zipper on Nat’s chest, letting her breasts spill out a little more.

“Oh, good idea!” Peter says.

“Oh, hang on,” Wanda goes to try and pull it down a little more but Nat steps back.

“Don’t give away the farm!”

Wanda’s hands snap back to herself, and her and Peter hide against the wall as Nat knocks on the door.

It immediately opens, and Loki is there waiting.

“Natasha.”

“Loki.”

“Come on in.” He purrs.

“I was going to.” Nat giggles, and slides past him through the door. He follows her in and closes the door behind him. As soon as it shuts, Wanda and Peter shuffle to the door and press their ears to it.

Nat holds up the bottle in her hand, “I brought some wine. Would you like some?”

“Of course.”

Silence settles over the two as Nat sets the items on Loki’s heavy wooden dresser.

“So, here we are,” She says, pouring a glass of wine, “Nervous?”

“Me? Never. You?”

Her answer is immediate, “No. I want this to happen.” She hands him a glass.

“So do I.” He takes it.

They clink glasses and both down the alcohol like it’s water and they’d been stranded without any for days.

When they finish, they set the glasses down and Loki takes a step back, “I’m going to put on some music.”

He cuts on a song that Nat doesn’t believe she’s heard before. It’s definitely a classical song.

“Maybe I’ll dance for you.” Nat licks her lips, and starts to sway and move her body. She hopes the alcohol kicks in soon.

Loki raises a brow as she gets closer to him. He swallows harshly when she bumps her hips against him.

“You look ravishing.” He chokes out.

“Thanks,” She’s still moving herself to the music, “You know, when you say things like that, it makes me want to rip that… Suit right off.”

“Well, why don’t we move this to the bed.”

“Really?” Nat stops her dancing, the statement coming out of left field.

“Oh! Do you not want to?” Loki asks.

“No, no. I just, you know, first I want to take off all of my clothes and have you rub lotion on me.”

Loki can feel his heart sinking because he can tell that the woman isn’t going down without a fight. And for once, he doesn’t want a fight.

“Well, that would be nice.” He says instead, “I’ll go get the lotion.” He makes a bee line for his bathroom.

He opens the door and slams it behind him.

“This is getting completely out of hand. Alright? She wants me to put lotion on her!” He hisses quietly.

“She’s bluffing!” You hiss back.

Loki throws his hands up, exasperated, “Look, she’s not backing down. She did this!” He copies the hip bump that Nat had done to him earlier.

“He is not backing down. He went to get lotion.” Nat says.

She had gone and opened the door to talk to Wanda and Peter when Loki disappeared into the bathroom.

Wanda and Peter look at each other and Wanda wrings her hands.

Thor walks down the hallway and sees them gathered at the door.

“Oh man, aren’t you guys finished yet?” He whines, crossing his arms.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “Thor, look, just look at it this way: The sooner Natasha breaks Loki, the sooner this is all over and out in the open.”

Thor’s eyes light up, “Oh, I like that,” He looks at Nat and an idea comes to him, “Oh! Show your breasts. He’s afraid of looking at anyone else’s but Y/N’s.” He reaches out and pulls on the zipper in a quick motion, causing Natasha’s boobs to nearly fall out of the dress.

The girls gasp and Peter covers his eyes.

“Wow, you didn’t break it.” Nat says, inspecting the zipper and adjusting her breasts.

“Not my first time.” Thor says, cheekily.

“You go back out there,” You say, grabbing a bottle of lotion off the shelf, “And you seduce her ‘til she cracks!”

“Okay, give me a moment.” He takes the bottle from you and looks around the small space, “Did you reorganize in here?”

You shrug and push him out of the bathroom.

He stumbles slightly from the force and sees Nat closing the bedroom door.

“Oh, you’re leaving?”

She turns and looks at him, pushing her chest out, “Uh, not without you, lover.” She walks towards him, making sure to show her chest off as she sways her body, “So… These are my boobs.”

Loki glances down at them before locking his eyes on Nat’s.

“They’re very nice.”

They look at each other, exchanging forced sexual glances.

“Well, come here.” He tells her, “I’m very happy we will be having sex.”

Natasha chuckles nervously, “You should be. I’m very bendy.” She steps closer, “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Not if I kiss you first.”

She takes a last step forward and grabs one of his hips. He touches one of hers, then switches hands to touch the other. His heart is beating in his throat.

Natasha reaches out and grabs his other hip, jerking him forward. He tries to place a hand on her breast but can’t make himself go through with it, so he settles for her shoulder, and Nat makes a choked sound.

“Well I suppose there’s nothing left for us to do but kiss.”

Nat nods, “Here it comes. Our first kiss.”

Loki quickly glances at the door that you’re hiding behind before looking back to Nat. They’re faces get closer and closer, both desperately hoping that the other will break before their lips connect.

But neither does.

It’s awkward and barely a kiss, but after about two seconds, Loki rips himself away and pushes Nat away from him.

“Alright alright alright. Okay, you win! You win!” He yells, hands up in surrender.

“Hah!”

“I cannot have sex with you.”

“And why not?” Nat pushes.

“Because I’m in love with Y/N.” He admits, running a hand through his hair.

Nat’s heart stops and she can barely string words together, “You’re- You’re what?”

The bathroom door opens and you step out, at the same time the bedroom door swings open to reveal Wanda, Peter, and Thor.

“I love her. That’s right! I love her. I love her!” He repeats himself, pointing to you.

You feel butterflies grow in your belly and warmth blooms in your chest. You don’t care that you just lost this little game. Loki just proclaimed his love for you to a whole group of people. That’s not something he likes; letting others know his feelings.

You walk over to him, sporting a smile so wide that your cheeks hurt. He takes a step towards you and places his hands on your waist, looking into your eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You let out a wet chuckle, “I love you too, Loki.”

He dips down and captures your lips in a searing kiss, pulling your body flush to his.

“I just… I thought you guys were doing it. I didn’t know you were in love!” Nat exclaims.

You turn and smile at your friend, hugging your boyfriend close. Loki chuckles and hugs you back.

“Awh, guys.” Peter says, a large smile on his face as well.

Loki smiles at the boy then looks to Nat, “And hats off to Natasha. Quite the competitor.” He reaches a hand out and the two shake hands, “And may I say your breasts are still out.”

“God.” She mumbles and quickly zips the dress back up.

“All right!” Thor booms, his face filled with joy, “So that’s it! It’s over! Everybody knows!”

“Yeah, well actually, not everybody,” You reply, “And we’d appreciate it if nobody told dad.”

Thor’s face falls and Peter grabs his arm to try and placate him.

***

Tony is watching Peter mess around on the obstacle course.

Peter lands at the end with a backflip and turns to make sure Tony is watching.

The older man holds a thumbs up, “You’re doing great, buddy!”

Movement catches his eye and he looks up to the window of your room. It takes his brain one too many seconds to realize what he’s seeing because he doesn’t want to believe it.

“No… No!” He yells, standing and taking a few steps forward.

Peter turns to look at what Tony is flipping out over and his blood runs cold, “Shit.” He whispers.

“Get off of my daughter!” Tony screams before he takes off towards the entrance to the compound and Peter takes off after him.

Tony runs down the hallway screaming.

“Loki! Loki!” He reaches your room and tries to open it, but it’s locked. He bangs on it several times, “Loki! I saw what you were doing through the window! I saw what you were doing to my daughter, now get out here!”

You and Loki jump up and quickly fix yourselves.

“Well, listen, we had a good run. What was it? Four? Five months? I mean, that’s more than most humans have in a lifetime, so goodbye, take care, goodbye then.” Loki finishes his ramblings with a chaste kiss to your lips before walking to your balcony.

You quickly catch his wrist, “What are you doing?”

“Oh I’m going on the lam.”

You roll your eyes and pull him back towards you, “Come on, Loki, come on. I can handle my dad.”

You drag him with you and open the door to reveal Tony, who is as red as Thor’s cape.

“Hey dad, what’s up?”

He looks at you and then Loki, and storms into the room towards him.

Loki takes several steps back and you run to place yourself between them.

“Dad!” You place your hands on his chest.

“What the hell are you doing!” He yells.

Suddenly almost the entire team is running up to your bedroom door where Peter was already waiting.

“Hey, what’s-what’s going on?” Natasha interjects.

“Well I think… I think… Stark knows about Y/N and I.”

“Brother,” Thor makes a throat cut motion, “He is right there.”

Loki rolls his eyes.

“You are an semi-immortal god that wiped out half of Manhattan and causes trouble everywhere he goes, and this is my daughter. Loki and my daughter, I-I cannot believe this!”

“Look Stark, we are not just fooling around. I love her. Alright? I’m in love with her.”

Tony takes a few breaths and moves his gaze to you.

You step forward and grab his hand, “I’m sorry that you had to find out this way… I’m sorry but it’s true, I love him too.” You reach your other arm back to pull Loki into your side.

He looks at you with unsure eyes, then looks up at Loki and back to you. Then out of nowhere, his demeanor completely changes.

“Loki and my daughter! I cannot believe this!” He says with a more happy tone, bringing them both into a hug, surprise etching Loki’s face. He pulls away and looks at everyone in the doorway, “You guys probably wanna get some hugs in too, huh? Big news!” He says the last part with jazz hands.

Everyone on the team who wasn’t aware files in for hugs and congrats, but the other four stay in the doorway.

Peter smiles, “Awh, no we’re okay, we’ve actually known for a while.”

The smile on Tony’s face vanishes.

“What? What? You guys knew?” He stalks closer and Peter jumps behind Natasha, “You all knew and you didn’t tell me?” His voice became raised again.

“W-Well, Tony, we were worried about you, okay? We didn’t know how you were gonna react.” Wanda explains.

Tony looks between the four of them before the weary smile appears again.

“You were worried about me?” He chuckles, “You didn’t know how I was gonna react?” He pulls all of them into a tight hug.

When he lets them go Thor speaks up, “Okay. What do you say we all, uh, clear out of here and let these two lovebirds get back down to business.”

Tony’s smile vanishes yet again and he turns to glare at the god.

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m just talking here. He is the one sleeping with your daughter.” He points to Loki.

Peter facepalms and Nat drags Thor away, Peter following suit. Peter collects Tony and nods to you and Loki. Everyone files back out of the room and the door closes once more.

After everyone left, there were a few seconds of silence before the two of you burst into hysterical fits of laughter.

***

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felswritingfire · 3 years

Note

I NEED TAKEMARU DAD HC, TADATOMO AND XOLOTLS WERE SO GOOD

SO, FIRST OF ALL: THANK YOU, DEAR ;0; I'M SO HAPPY YOU ENJOYED THEM-

AND SECONDLY: Y'all- this has been fucking sitting as a WIP in my google docs for so fucking long- I have so many others too. Like, Claude, Zab, Jacob- ALL THE TEACHERS ARE IN THERE- Hakuman, Durga, Babylon- uuuuuuhhh, fuuuuckiiiiin' TANGAROA. HOMBRE'S IN THERE AND TETSU AND NOMAD-

FUck- I just, there's a lot fjsdlkjlskdjs

ANYWAY! Under the cut for length because this- ah,,,, this is a big boy-

THIS DUDE HAS BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT FOR ALL HIS LIFE- HE’S SO READY TO START A FAMILY WITH YOU

You two planned this out- like, in depth have planned this out because first of all, the dude made it very clear, in the beginning of your relationship, that he was in it for the long haul and he wanted a family with you, like, a horde of children. But after he made your guys’ house and you two established yourselves first

Which, spoiler, you both did all that, so now it’s either baby making time or adoption time

You guys probably end up with a huge ass family, and I’m not joking when I say that, because five children is big. But you know what, that’s better than the 15 (especially if you have to birth that many- like, oof) he was trying to sell you on tbh

Like, shit- this man wore a suit and made a powerpoint to try and convince you why 15 was the golden number, to which you responded that you’d like to have a retirement one day. He couldn’t really fight you there

But your kiddos end up being an oldest girl and the rest boys- which he loves his girl so much, she tries her hardest to keep the boys in line

WHICH WORKS TO VARYING DEGREES TBH

She’s so soft spoken and shy and they’re all… rough and tumble little gremlins

Speaking of the babies, she’s probably older than the youngest by five years; the oldest boy is a year younger than her; the second oldest boy is two years younger than him; and from there, you had the third boy a year from the second and finally the fourth boy a year from the third- (I had to literally do math to make sure I was right on that jsl;kfdjdfslk)

ANYWAY

You’re guys’ baby girl??? Absolute angel, but she had a lot of anxiety as a baby so she had to be held by one of you guys or she would whimper and cry- not even a loud cry, but a heart broken one??? It just- UGH-

The first time Takemaru heard her whimper, he just about sobbed with her- it really didn’t help that she was trying to get out of the blanket she was swaddled in, so she was rocking back and forth on her back, so he could see her little fingers push and pull at the fabric- he forgot all about the bottle he was trying to make for her and picked her up and held her so close in his hands-

He was wide-eyed and terrified he was going to break her as he just held her, but he didn’t and her sniffles died down and she sighed against his neck (he really cried there- but you never heard that shhh)

Kurogane became the favorite uncle when he gave you guys a personalized baby carrier for a little get together to celebrate her birth (they have one for all of the babies too!)

You and Kuro just about jumped when Take wrapped his arms around the man in near tears

But then the title was revoked and presented to Heph instead because the man hand sewed this little stuffed pegasus, his fingers all bandaged and he had this nervous smile on his face as he handed it to your little girl, who LAUGHED AND MADE GRABBY HANDS FOR IT???? When I say that you’ve never seen Takemaru shove a man away and bring another one into a hug so fast (Heph looked fucking constipated as soon as the impact happened- you almost cackled at the pure offence on his face)- you mean it

Kurogane was sprawled on the floor staring blankly at the ceiling until you went up and asked him if he was alright; his reply was raising his fist and declaring “This is war!”

And thus, the story of how your baby girl ended up with a horde of plushies, that she refuses to get rid of to this day began

You have yet to tell them that her favorite uncle is actually Amatsumara- you guys can rest assured that he is the go to babysitter for her because she clings just as hard to him as she does to you guys (no, you two aren’t a little jealous, what makes you think that-)

When you’re first boy is born- you two are not prepared for the mass chaos that is held in his little body- he is an absolute gremlin

You don’t even know how- Takemaru blames you; you are offended

He’s such a needy baby and he cries constantly- and then he laughs when he knocks something out of one of your guys’ hands

You two love him to death- you swear

His sissy tries to help since you two keep her right next to you when your tending to your little boy- always giving her head pats or nodding along when she softly coo about something- but, there’s only so much a one year old can do to help

But she really tries her hardest

It’s easier for all three of you when the next boy comes along because he’s exactly like your oldest boy was and your girl has aged a little bit so she can do a tad bit more than when she was younger- not much, but still

Though your oldest boy brings his own bouts of problems to the table too because boy does he want to see how bouncy his brother is

You and Takemaru both dived to keep your oldest boy from using his little brother as a literal baby trampoline. Suffice to say, he got in trouble

By the time the last two are born/come in, you guys are basically baby experts- like, hot damn, you guys got everything lined up with zero hesitation and can read the boys like a damn book

You guys immediately know what they need/want without them even uttering a cry; your daughter has also picked up this skill and she takes care of the other two toddlers too, which helps you guys a whole bunch

Oh! Oh! You’re little girl really likes holding her baby brother- like, really likes to hold him and can hold him for hours on end

She’s very attached to him and Takemaru lives for it tbh

Though she loves all her brothers and her brothers all really love her too

When the boys are all toddler aged, they will literally work together to keep Takemaru from going to work by ganging up on him and clinging to his legs; little do they know is that their papa doesn’t have tree trunk legs for nothing- so he just walks, albeit with the funniest gait because of the four children clinging to both of his legs, and just goes about his morning until he gets to the door where he begins to pull them off with one hand and lift them up so he could plant a big ol’ kiss on their forehead and tell them that he loves them and he’ll see them when he gets home; the boys are all squealing in delight when this happens. You’re daughter will trail behind the fiasco while holding your hand and he’ll always hold open his arms for you and her to rush into his arms and hug him- and so he can also give you two forehead smooches uwu

When you guys need babysitters literally the Crafters are all for it, though Heph is a little nervous about it, but Talos is literally raring to go! He fucking loves kids!

Your girl loves Amatsu, as mentioned before; your oldest boy LOVES Musashi, they get into so much trouble together, though they both calmed down a bit after your little girl almost got hit in the head with a rock and Amatsu about hung them from their toes; your second and third oldest love watching Kurogane work, like, they will actively be asking him questions at rapid fire speed. It’s honestly amazing how he keeps up with their questions while he’s tinkering with whatever he project he’s working on this week; your youngest one is fascinated with Heph himself, he’ll always seek him out, usually hobbling to Talos and asking him if he could hang out with them and Talos is always quick to say yes. At first, Heph was really nervous about having him there but over time he started to get used to his presence (and this is technically his little brother right? He has to be nice to him!) and now he sits him on his lap so he can see what Heph is doing and he’ll even let him help with the smaller stuff in the project. It’s most likely gonna be with something harmless, like a little toy robot lion tbh

Sometimes they don’t want to give them back tbh

Takemaru almost threw hands with Musashi because he hid your oldest and refused to tell you guys where he was because “you aren’t taking away our little buddy, old chap!” Turns out you kiddo was just taking a nap inside of one of Musashi’s napping nooks-

By the time their tween years role around, the boys are bouncing off the walls and your little girl is trying so fucking hard to keep them under control

You swear you guys have white hairs from the boys specifically because your third oldest came

running in with his whole hand stuck in the pickle jar- you don’t even know how?????? Takemaru literally had to break it open because he couldn’t pull your kid’s damn hand out of the jar

Oml, puberty is a trip, especially when it happened to your oldest boy: you come into the living just to see your him sitting and staring at the fire in the fireplace, looking like he saw something horrific and so, like the good mama/papa/nano you are, you come and put a comforting hand on his shoulder and ask: “honey, what’s wrong?”

To which this little shit replies in the most distraught voice: “My balls look like moss balls.”

You sit, blinked, and had to let it sink in with what he meant, when you heard a horrified gasp from behind you and you turned to see your husband covering your daughter's ears. “WE DON’T TALK ABOUT THOSE THINGS IN FRONT OF THE LADY/LADIES, YOUNG MAN.”

“BUT THEY DO, DAD! IT’S TERRIBLE- THEY’RE SO ITCHY-”

You had drowned out the conversation by that point and from the look on your daughters face- she has too

Your other three are much more… calm? About the whole ordeal; at the very least they’re not loud like their older brother is about it

Your daughter is the chillest with it, she reads a lot of books so she kinda pieced together what was happening of her own accord

The boys all cackle together when their voices crack and have made a whole game about who’s voice could crack the most

They all like to tinker with things thanks to Takemaru and the other Crafters influences! Your daughter is into intricate things, like limbs and the likes; your oldest son is into metal work, especially with swords; your second and third are both really interested in making little rockets; and your youngest is fascinated with robots because Talos and Orihime are so cool?????? Oml???

So you two got a horde of brainiacs and you’re so proud of them

By the time they’re in high school, your daughter is already wracking up scholarships for her little inventions and essays on her observations. Your boys are taking it a bit more slowly than their sister is, but that doesn’t meant that your oldest boy isn’t selling his metal works for a good price, and your two middle sons are already piecing together a little shop of their own (with dad’s help- Take’s pretty good with money and budgeting), and you’re youngest has really been brushing up on robotics! He studies under Uncle Heph and Uncle Talos and it’s super fucking cute??????

Heph is suprisingly good at teaching (despite him swearing that he’s not) and your little boy just soaks up the information like a fucking sponge.

One thing that they all do together is ask Takemaru how to build things and work with wood and carpentry- you can bet your ass he shows them all the ropes of how to make a home. He even goes over electrical and plumbing work with them. You have so many videos and pictures of them working together and just learning by Takemaru’s example- it makes your heart swell with happiness and love.

God forbid your daughter ever gets a significant other because they have Takemaru, her three brothers, and the entirety of the Crafters (and you if you're an overprotective parent) to watch out for.

They get five different shovel talks in a span of three minutes. But, ultimately, she’s not dumb with her choices in partners, so they’re most likely good people. And you can rest easy with that knowledge.

When they graduate, there’s tears for each of their graduations. Takemaru pulls them into bone crushing hugs and blubbers about how broad he is of them and how they’ll still always be his little Onis (regardless of if they’re actually Onis or not). Your girl straight up sobs and hugs her dad back, her brothers piling in the group hug, crying just as hard. Your oldest boy is in hysterics when he graduates, and your last two boys tackle their papa in a hug and they go tumbling to the ground laughing and crying.

They don’t leave right away after high school and instead, all of them find a college/trade school close enough for them to go to and fro without having to leave the nest yet- which Takemaru has no issue with, he’s very much a tight-knit family type of man.

Having a family with Takemaru is the most domestic and tooth rotting sweetness you can ever ask for. And, at the end of the day, he’s just so grateful that you were willing to go on this journey with him.

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to support me consider donating to my Ko-fi!

#tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #takemaru #dad hcs #SFW #not a reblog #reader insert #x reader #non binary reader #gender nuetral reader #IT'S DONE #DAMN #HOLY SHIT #IT'S FUCKING DONE JSDLKFJSLDKFJ:LDF #I'm holding so many of these parents HCs captive oml sjfdlsjdflk #Anyway #Hope you enjoyed!

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guardianofrivendell · 3 years

Text

The Way to a Hobbit’s Heart

Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbo Baggins (Bagginshield)

Requested: Yes and no! This piece is part of “The Hobbit Discord Server’s Holiday Gift Exchange 2020″ and is my gift to @misfit-with-a-pen 💖

Warnings: oh my goodness, all the fluff! I can’t! Also Sassy Bilbo because it’s still me who wrote this :)

Summary: When Bilbo enjoys a nice afternoon walk in the Shire, he notices a smell... A rather foul smell, if he was honest. When he comes closer to his home, the smell seems to intensify. It couldn't come from his house now, could it? Because Thorin was home.... Alone. Oh dear!

A/N: This story couldn’t exist without the help of @xxbyimm! She is such an amazing and fantastic person and always ready to listen to me rant about ideas, complaining about everything and gave me TONS of advice on top of that. How wonderful is that?

Bilbo always favored late afternoon walks over morning strolls.

Though he knew most of his neighbors wouldn’t agree with him and probably would think of him as even more peculiar than they already did if they knew, he just couldn’t help himself.

You see, it was the way the sun hung low in the sky, giving everything it shone upon a warm golden glow. Furthermore, as most of the hobbit community was too occupied prepping the most important meals of the day, the town was practically deserted.

This meant Bilbo could enjoy the beautiful sceneries in peace without having to get involved in friendly banter and polite greetings. And finally - the temperature was nor too warm or too cold, which was just perfect.

But there was nothing better than an afternoon walk in early spring. Birds were building their nest, flying past his head with twigs in their little beaks.

It reminded him of that one time a thrush had landed on Lobelia’s straw hat and had absolutely wrecked the damn thing. It took her a while to notice and Bilbo had had the greatest difficulty in keeping a straight face. She went running through the Shire afterwards, screaming about a vicious bird attack. Since that day he couldn’t help but snicker every time he saw a thrush.

Yes, Bilbo loved his walks indeed. But he loved his home just as much.

It wouldn’t be long before any respectable Hobbit started working in their garden again after the winter break and every yard and patio would get overflowed with a soft and subtly sweet flowery scent. It wasn’t any different in his garden.

The flower buds of the early bloomers were starting to show, some of them already in their lovely, bright colours. Just a few more days and he could bury his nose in the daffodils, tulips or primroses, taking in their flowery scent. It was a moment Bilbo looked forward to every single year, but now he could finally share it with his husband Thorin.

To everyone’s surprise, this grumpy dwarf had warmed up to the art of gardening. Under Bilbo’s patient supervision, they were able to turn their neglected patch of land into the beautiful garden it was today.

Bilbo smiled to himself at the thought of his husband. He came a long way to get here... Both of them did. Literally and figuratively.

Thorin had been under a lot of stress for a long time without barely any chance to breathe: the rebuilding of Erebor, restoring trade agreements, bringing his people back to the mountain, … It never stopped and he was close to getting a burn-out.

Bilbo had seen it coming from miles away and had raised the alarm on Thorin’s health. Bilbo’s home in the Shire proved to be the perfect place to get a much needed break from ruling a Kingdom.

The mountain was in good hands with Fíli and Kíli as his advisor - Balin was still there to keep an eye on them - and the peace and quiet of the Shire was wearing off on Thorin. He was finally able to relax and enjoy the time with Bilbo.Even so, they couldn’t stay away forever and they’d made plans to return to the mountain before the annual Durin’s Day celebration.

That didn’t mean they couldn’t enjoy the time that was still left.

Bilbo continued his way on the path that would eventually lead him back to his home, he stopped when he smelled something odd. He sniffed a few times, tilting his head sideways. What in the…?

Bilbo couldn’t tell what the smell reminded him of, and yet it somehow seemed familiar. Was Lobelia trying to burn down her house again with another attempt at copying his famous rabbit stew?

The closer he got to his home, the stronger the scent became. It couldn’t come from his house now, could it? Thorin was home so nothing serious could have happened.

Bilbo’s eyes widened.

Thorin was home… alone.

“Oh dear,” he murmured.

Thorin was not yet entirely used to living like a hobbit, still adjusting to life in the Shire. The more delicate, joie-de-vivre way of life that suited the hobbits didn’t always go well with the sturdy, rather head-on approach and maybe a tad brute way of the Dwarrows. He definitely wasn’t the domestic type. Yet.

Bilbo hurried up the lane to his front yard, struggled to open the gate in his haste and made his way inside. When the door closed behind him, it felt like someone had slapped him in the face.

Oh yeah, the smell definitely came out of his house. He coughed a few times, and his eyes started to water. He completely missed the leftover trails of smoke near the ceiling, and that was maybe for the better.

“Thorin?” he squeaked between coughs. “Love?”

No answer. Was he even here? And what was that pungent smell? It almost smelled like an onion died a painful death and was left to rot! But with added spices. Now he almost wished it was Lobelia’s cooking instead...

He left the entrance hall and stepped further into their home, making his way to the study. If Thorin was home, he would probably be there. Bilbo hoped to find his other half hunched over a book, or too focused on writing a letter to his nephews to hear his calls. Not that he didn’t trust Thorin to find his way back home on his own… okay fine, maybe he didn’t.

Before he reached the study, his eye fell on the pantry. A rare curse escaped his mouth.

Empty jars, most of them tipped over, crumbs and pieces of vegetables on the ground together with a puddle of liquid that Bilbo wasn’t too keen on investigating further.

He stood frozen in the round doorway. What had happened?

Flashbacks of that one fateful night when the company had barged in - uninvited might he add - and raided his kitchen and pantry flooded his mind.

Could they...?

No, he shook his head. It was too quiet for the company to be here. Plus Thorin would have mentioned it. There were no secrets between them. Not anymore.

He crossed the hallway and entered his kitchen. Or rather, what was left of it.

If he thought his pantry was raided, it was nothing in comparison to his kitchen. There were dirty pots and pans all over the place, as if the dishes hadn’t been done in weeks. Most of the cabinets were opened, the contents of the shelves in disarray or scattered over the counter. A lot of food made it to the floor as well, and it seemed like someone had tried to clean it up by shoving it to one side of the kitchen.

It looked like Thorin had tried to make something for dinner. Or a snack maybe? At least, he hoped it was Thorin who wrecked the kitchen. Because there wasn’t a single hair on his feet that would even consider cleaning this up himself!

“Thorin, I really do love you but you got to learn to clean up after yourself,” Bilbo muttered in frustration when he picked up a dirty kitchen rag from the floor.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” a low voice sounded behind him.

Bilbo swirled around and he forgot to breathe for a second.

There, in the doorway of the dining room, stood Thorin in just his dark blue tunic and black breeches, barefoot and an apron tied around his hips. A towel carelessly thrown over his shoulder and a casserole in his hands made it look like he belonged in a kitchen. But Bilbo knew better.

The dwarf himself looked like a complete snack. If it wasn’t for the state of the kitchen and the foul smell still filling his nostrils, he would’ve jumped him without a second thought.

No, scratch the snack! His husband was a full five course meal. Bilbo took a deep breath. And by Durin’s beard, was he hungry...

Thorin lifted the pot a little. Bilbo stepped out of the way so he could pass.

“It just needs a little more time on the fire.”

It didn’t. It really, really didn’t.

That became abundantly clear when Thorin lifted the lid so he could stir in what looked like stew, and Bilbo had to grab the counter to steady himself.

Oh, well, at least now I know where that smell comes from, he thought. Breathe through your mouth, that’s the key!

“You know, if you didn’t like my cooking, you could’ve just told me,” Bilbo joked while he took the pot off the fire again in an effort to save what could be saved, but not before he put the lid back on. “I think this is done, love.”

“Are you sure?” Thorin chuckled. The sound reverberated in his chest and it made Bilbo’s stomach flip. It was one of his favourite sounds and it still did something to him every time he heard it.

“I wanted to repay you for taking such good care of me,” he said. “So I made us dinner.”

“You did?” Bilbo asked, endeared by the gesture but honestly, also a little afraid for his life by now. “Marvellous!”

“Go and take a seat at the table, I’ll be right there,” Thorin hummed and he gestured towards the dining room.

Thorin came out of the kitchen and placed the pot in the middle of the table and wiped his hands on the apron. His eyes fell on Bilbo who still stood a bit to the side.

When he entered the dining room Bilbo froze, stunned by what he saw.

Thorin had set the table beautifully and had paid extra attention to details, the way Bilbo liked. Freshly picked flowers from their garden stood proudly in a white porcelain vase, napkins neatly folded on the right side of the plate and he had used Bilbo’s mother’s pottery. He really went out of his way for this.

“Is it not to your liking?” Thorin asked, a slight tremble in his voice. “If it’s about the mess in the kitchen, I promise I’ll clean it up later.”

He was nervous, Bilbo realised when he looked at Thorin. The King under the Mountain who could face multiple armies with only twelve companions without a second thought or hint of fear was almost shaking with nerves because he had made dinner for his lover. It was adorable.

“It’s lovely, Thorin. Really, it is,” he assured him, while Thorin pulled a chair from under the table so Bilbo could sit down. “I didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

Thorin quickly made his way to the other side of the table and filled the mugs with ale and the glasses with wine. Bilbo however, eyed the food on the table cautiously.

To be fair, from a distance it looked decent. There were carrots, mashed potatoes, other vegetables that he couldn’t quite name at first sight but seemed okay, bread,… And the pot of stew. On the corner of the table stood a bowl of what he suspected was some kind of gravy, but the chunks in it made him doubtful.

He took some of everything on his plate and tried to keep it together when the aroma of the stew filled his nostrils once more.

Thorin looked at him expectantly.

The things one does for the one they love, Bilbo thought while he took a deep breath and tried the stew. Oh dear, it tasted exactly like it smelled!

He tried to swallow it as fast as he could without a lot of chewing. His hand flew to his glass of wine and with a large gulp of the red substance his food finally went down.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No! No, it’s… well, it’s a little hot,” he explained. That wasn’t exactly a lie.

He tried to find the correct words to let him know cooking maybe wasn’t his strong point, but decided to change the subject instead. “Have you heard from Fíli yet?”

Thorin shook his head. “I did not. It hasn’t been that long since I sent my last letter. Give him some time.”

He took a sip from his glass of wine. “But tell me about your afternoon, did you enjoy your walk?”

Bilbo was relieved he could talk for a while - and avoid taking another bite - and told Thorin about his walk and how he was planning on asking old master Worrywort what he did to his wood poppies to get them so big and bright.

While he was listening intently, Thorin took a first bite of his homemade stew.

The minute he closed his mouth, his eyes widened and he almost choked on the meat. He let his fork drop on the plate with a loud clatter, a fist against his lips while he tried really hard to swallow the food.

Bilbo didn’t know whether to laugh or feel sorry for him. He decided on a neutral expression, like it was the most normal thing in the world for a person to choke on a spoonful of stew.

Thorin brought the napkin to his mouth and wiped the tears out of his eyes, still panting from the effort.

“Mahal, why didn’t you say anything?” he groaned.

Bilbo eyed him carefully, not wanting to hurt Thorin’s feelings. He worked so hard to prepare all this, well, you couldn’t exactly call it food…

“About what?” he tried, gathering his courage and taking another spoonful.

“The food! I saw you eat it!” Thorin murmured, his face distorting in absolute horror as he watched his husband trying his best to process another bite.

“Please don’t. I can’t believe you want to take another bite!”

“You made this for me, of course I’m going to eat it,” Bilbo said, smiling at him. Please don’t make me eat it again, Bilbo pleaded internally.

“To be honest, I don’t even think Bombur would touch this,” Bilbo added.

“That bad, huh?” he laughed. “Who am I kidding, of course it is, I tasted it. I still taste it!”

He took his mug of ale and chugged it down in one go. When he placed it on the table again with a thud, his expression had changed into defeat.

“I know you love your meals and this isn’t…” he rose from his chair. “This is not a meal worthy of any hobbit, let alone Bilbo Baggins.”

With the majesty only a true dwarven king can muster, Thorin strode from the dining room towards the kitchen. Bilbo shuffled in his seat, pondering what had happened before hurrying behind his One.

The sight that greeted him made his heart clench. Thorin had started cleaning up the mess, his back to the door, head low and shoulders slumped. Bilbo could see he was distraught and clearly wounded in his pride.

In a few strides Bilbo stood behind his husband and threw his arms around him, giving a little squeeze.

”Don’t you ever think what you do isn’t enough. The fact that you went through all this trouble for me, means more to me than you’ll ever know,” Bilbo mumbled into Thorin’s neck before he placed a featherlight kiss there, which elicited a groan out of the King’s chest.

Thorin turned around and wanted to return the favor, but Bilbo stopped him.

“No, no, no, Thorin. First we need to clean up this mess. I’ll help you.”

After an hour of cleaning, they sat on a spotless kitchen floor, looking over their work proudly.

“We make a great team, you and me,” Thorin said.

Bilbo rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder and sighed contentedly.

“Can you promise me one thing though?”

“What’s that?” Thorin wondered.

“Please leave the cooking to me?”

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje @kata1803 @entishramblings @artsywaterlily @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose @marvelschriss @kumqu4t @myrin1234 @dark-angel-is-back @the-fandoms-georgie @lathalea @xxbyimm @sokkasdarling @katethewriter

#The Hobbit Discord Server's Holiday Gift Exchange 2020 #Thorin Oakenshield x Bilbo Baggins #Bagginshield #Bagginshield fic #Bagginshield fanfiction #Thorin Oakenshield fanfiction #Bilbo Baggins fanfiction #The Hobbit Imagine #Thorin Oakenshield #Bilbo Baggins #The Hobbit

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jupiterswlrd · 3 years

Text

Spectacular- mark lee

mark never intended on getting bit by a spider on his was home in the subway, he also never intended on saving you from falling in front of the moving train car either. it was all just some sort of sick coincidence. mark had never believed in super powers, yeah what he saw on TV and comics book was cool but it was never realistic. ‘someone just can’t magically change over night’ he thought to himself all the time.

that was, until it happened to him. after his little run in with you he went home and took a nap, shook up a bit on how well his grip on your jacket was, almost like his hands were stuck to you. ‘crazy...’ he chuckled drifting off to sleep. when he woke up his found his upper part of he bunk covered in spider webs.

“ew” he said quietly trying not to wake his roommate haechan up. ‘maybe if hyuck would be a cleaner we wouldn’t have this issue’ mark struggled to sit up something making him stick to his bed. he flopped all around his bed, webs confining his arms to the bed. he finally broke one and somehow tripped off of his bunk. he prepared for his body to hit the ground but something caught him. a string of webs wrapped around his ankle and attached the top bunk. he was confused, but he was mostly relieved. “mark?....” haechan opened his eyes wondering why he saw his roommate dangling from what seemed to be the ceiling. with that the web snapped causing mark to fall on his head.

“dude...” haechan observed mark like he was some foreign species. “did you do that?” he pointed to the the webs covering marks bunk. “n-no!?!?” mark looked at the younger boy like he was out of his mind “do i look like a spider to you?” haechan stared at him for a long minute. “...there’s a fucking web growing out of your wrist right now....”

“HUH?” mark flung his hand somewhere, flinching in a way. haechan grunted loudly his head banging aganist the wall. his body was taped to the wall with one big web. “MARK” he yelled in amazement and extreme pain and discomfort. “I promise i didn’t do that....” mark didn’t know what to do with his hands, he stuck them in the pockets of his shorts fearing himself and what he’d do. haechan eventually broke free, examining the web pattern closely. He had a thing for spiders.

“this is completely unique...your webs have a little M in them. we should take to these y/n, you know shes a science freak” mark completely shut down at the thought of you seeing him shoot webs out of hands. what if you thought he was some kind of freak? “THATS NOT AN OPTIO-“ then you walked into their dorm room, unannounced and unwarranted. “i heard my name from outside the hallway, why are you all so l—“ you were confused to see that mark was no where to be found. “uhhh?? i thought i heard marks voice”

“you di—“ haechan did a double take “oh haha, yeah we were on the phone he’s in the bathroom— he got stuck in the toilet”

haechan shoved you out the room nervously. “yeah so y/n, we’ll see you in class okay?” once you were successfully pushed out the room, mark was sitting with his legs crossed his head in his hands. “bro what the fuck was that?” haechan slammed the door and locked it. “what was what?”

“i don’t know your little disappearing ac— YOU CAN TURN INVISIBLE”

“haechan are you on drugs? you have to be on drugs only people with POWERS can do that and that’s not possible be—“

haechan clamped a hand over marks mouth.

“dude you’ve done the impossible for like 2 hours now, you have powers” the younger boy slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. “where are you going?” mark asked laying back down. “you mean where are WE going” he threw marks slides at his head.

“we’re gonna go see what you can do.”

mark and haechan went out to a abandoned parking lot. haechan was good at making something out of nothing figuratively and quite literally. “okay mark pick up that big ass tire over there” mark walked over to it, absentmindedly picking it up “this one?”

haechan pulled a clipboard out his backpack “okay superstrength...check”

after many trials and errors. mark and donghyuck found out that he was very agile, very fast, and very sticky. mark couldn’t go 3 seconds with out sticking to something.

as mark and haechan were walking back to the dorms, mark heard something his ears turned up as he looked around. “do you hear that?” mark pulled his hoodie up and walked a bit faster. “no what do you hear? is everything oka—“ mark took off running in the opposite direction past the parking lot, leaving his backpack and a confused Lee Donghyuck behind him.

mark turned the corner the feeling that was rushing through his body, it was more than adrenaline it was like an itch that so desperately needed to be scratched. he had to find out what that noise was. he found himself in the subway again. the same place his was now 24 hours ago. his head was now spinning the same place he was bitten now stinging more than ever.

his balance was off and his body felt weak. mark blinked harshly, the itch slowly fading away. but everything was fading away he slipped into darkness, passing out on the grimy new york subway floor.

“mark” a familiar voice called out to him. “yes y/n?” he responded, a swirl of neon colors surrounded him, his skin was no longer slightly tan it was neon red with some swirls of blue. he was still in the subway but it was empty. dead silent his own thoughts, and spiders the only things in the station. you were in the form a beautiful pink tarantula crawling all over marks body.

“you know what you have to do right?”

“what do i have to do?”

“save new york” you brushed against his cheek lovingly “save our friends, save me, and most of all” you had somehow reappeared in front of him crawling down from her own line of webs. “save yourself.”

“how do i do that?”

“22nd street my love”

mark heard that laugh he always loved to hear, then a sharp pain in his arm again.

“FUCK” he yelled when he woke up, surprised to see that it wasn’t the “pink tarantula” that hit him, but an IV going into the underside of his wrist.

“calm down mr.lee it’s okay, you had quite a scare there” a nurse rubbed his forehead “anything i can get you? some water? some juice you had a pretty bad panic attack there”

mark sighed

‘how am i supposed to save new york with anxiety?’

☀︎☂︎☀︎☂︎

“hyuck” mark said as they walked home from the hospital. “yeah?” he responded taking one of his headphones out his ear. “have you ever been to 22nd street?” haechan shrugged “yeah i’ve been by there, it’s nothing but some apartments...why?”

“i think we have to go there”

that piqued haechan interest, not in a good way though. “you’re not tired i mean...i know you have super stamina but you just had such a bad anxiety attack you passed out” he blinked “i don’t see how you’re not exhausted, fuck— even IM exhausted” mark shrugged and walked in the other direction in hopes to catch a bus, “you coming?”

“so am i like your agent or something” haechan said smacking on the lunchable from his backpack loudly, so loud that mark couldn’t even hear himself think. between the homeless people, the bucket drum line, haechan obnoxious chewing, mark couldn’t hear himself think. “OKAY JUST SHUT UP” he snapped, all attention on him. “oh— uh not you guys i—“ mark quickly became flustered looking at haechan for some help. “OH— uhhh, my friend here has a disorder. sorry about that” haechan rubbed mark on the back, watching as heads turned back to what the were doing. “thank god” mark sighed in relief as they reached their stop. “i feel something...” the same ringing in his ears was back, becoming quieter as he walked in different directions dragging haechan in zigzags along with him

finally, mark and haechan arrived at their “destination”. all it appeared to be was just a regular apartment building. “what the fuck?” mark huffed slamming his fists aganist the wall, accidentally triggering something.

the small alley way they were in between revealed a door, the two boys looked at each other in pure amazement as they jumped through. “what is this?” mark said in awe staring down the walls. “don’t touch anything” an older man said swatting his hand away “you’re the new guy?” he looked mark up and down “the standards must be in hell”

“hi nice to meet you too!” mark sarcastically said. “i didn’t ask.” the man simply replied. “follow me though.” the boys did as they were told. “i believe that we were all put on this earth for one reason, to wreck havoc and help when havoc wrecks things” the older man laughed at his own terrible joke. “that’s why some people their genetic code is different, they’re products of some very expensive experiments, and my favorite” he chuckled “wrong place right time”

“so where do i fall?” mark wondered out loud. “the third one sweetheart” the older man bent down into a mini fridge and got out something to drink. “so basically what i’m saying kid.” he slurped it loudly in marks ears “help when havoc wrecks, whenever it does”with the snap of fingers, haechan and mark were back home and mark was dressed in a red and blue spandax suit. a black spider embroidered on the chest. “bro? you look—“ mark raised a brow, thinking he was still in his regular clothes. “you look like an actual superhero!” haechan danced around the room. “i do?” he stepped infront of the mirror “oh— I DO”

“what should i call myself. tarantula boy?—no too weird spider boy? no too immature”

“spider-man” haechan suggested

“spider-man...” mark said to himself in the mirror.

“i guess i’m spider man...”

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wornoutmouse · 3 years

Text

Tatsumi

Welcome back to mommy dearest writing for a character she doesn’t know. I present to you…..Adult Gumball from The Amazing World of Gumball

(I’m joking)

We are going for the mating cycle trope cause it never fails.

Breeding kink, of course, literal impregnation, poison le peepee, mommy kink, daddy kink, everybody a switch

This dude looks lactose intolerant

Left-right, up-down, and 2 sides of the same damn coin are the most accurate descriptions of Tatsumi. So in the end you never know what he’s truly thinking and perhaps that’s for the best. What never is hard to decipher is when his heat comes. The passive aggressiveness was forever present as you went about everyday tasks. His playful nature dwindled as time went by until you were too scared to even joke around with him. “Tats, your fur is a lot softer than normal, are you using a different shampoo?”

The bluenette grumbled as he glared down at a book that he was never even reading in the first place, “You know what’s in the bathroom so you know I’m not using anything different. You don’t blame his attitude one bit, he had told you that sharing his cycle was something precious to him and even though you were his girlfriend even platonically helping him through it was a big thing. This however didn’t mean he didn’t want to fuck you against the stove every time he saw you making some nasty ass quesadilla’s. That didn’t prevent him from dry humping everything in your shared bedroom to spread his scent around. Didn’t even stop him from dry humping you as soon as you came home.

“Tatsumi, I know your thing is like tomorrow, but you can’t stop me from enjoying my bath.” The blunette stood menacingly over your bathtub as you soaked. Your brown skin caressed by sparkling white bubbles as a creamy scent wafted from the water was almost like presenting a duck on a platter for Tatsumi. It was moments like these when he understood your hurt look when he said he didn’t want to share his heat with you. “I’m not stopping you, I’m just watching..” You rest your arm outside the bath, having a long staring contest with the man. “Your braids are getting wet.” You sighed before pulling out the stopper.

The next day his rut was in full sweep, you woke up this morning to him in the shower so you opted to make breakfast. By the time you finished and came to alert him, the bedroom door was locked and you could hear heavy grunts on the other side. “K Tats, just remember I’m here for you if you need anything.” You finished your breakfast alone and kicked a couple of grain bars underneath the door.

You walked back into the kitchen and groaned when you saw the corner of your kitchen floor bare from the lack of water. “He’s going to dehydrate himself at the the rate he is going at it.” Your skin prickled from the thought of going outside into the cool fall air with only a pair of shorts but nonetheless, you head out to visit the nearest Walmart, “We’ll need more food anyways.”

Inside the bedroom

The heat was unbearable, Tatsumi had shredded most of his clothes the moment he woke up. The naive would say that the heat in his groin would be the hardest part to deal with, but the physical warmth that had his skin visibly boiling made him want to claw his skin off where he stood. He rested his head against the bed, eyes closed with unbridled rage. All he wanted to do is let you inside this room and never let you out until he had fucked a baby in you. Alas, it was not a baby he wanted so that is why he made up the lie about how his rut was special to him. In reality, he had shared his cycle with many others, some friends, some colleagues, a commonplace whore would even due during this time of crisis.

The only difference between you and them is that they never saw the next day. The point of his cycle is to mate, and more importantly, if the mating isn’t successful his cum becomes poisonous to the person it was inserted in. Even Muroi would make jokes about how he has “deadly dick” much to his dismay. So even if him sharing his heat with you would be pleasurable and end it quicker, if you do not get pregnant, you will die and that was the only thing keeping him from leaving this room.

His ears twitched to pick up on where you were in the house, they twitched, twitched a little bit more. Where the hell were you? Shakily he stands, screwing his face up when his dick hit his stomach shamelessly. He creaked the door open, mumbling your name into the open air. No response, “Y/n where the hell are you?” Even though it was a dangerous chance to take, Tatsumi didn’t feel comfortable not feeling your presence somewhere throughout the house. He walked around the apartment growing angrier than when he left when he saw your keys were missing. “What the hell, she couldn’t at least stay to make sure I didn’t die?” Your absence hurt a little bit, but his prideful heart just turned any pain into horn-filled anger.

Meanwhile, your dumbass was looping around for the 3rd time to get samples of imitation crab on a saltine cracker. “Miss, this is your 4th time..” “What do you mean, I’ve never been here before?” You of course, as any good customer would, didn’t buy a single package of imitation crab nor cracker. You went home with your belly full and a car filled with water and packaged ham because Thanksgiving was 6 months away and you’ll be damned if you get caught having to buy 6 chickens to replace the turkey again.

When you get home you carried the ham in your arms while you kicked a water bottle pack into the kitchen. During your excruciating workout, you failed to notice that the bedroom door was wide open, and an overbearing warmth filled the home spreading Tatsumi’s anger pheromones that you couldn’t even smell to save your life. And your life was indeed endangered. “Tats do you need some more water!” You whistle throughout the house, tossing your keys on the couch before gaping at the wide-open door. “Tatsumi!?”

“I’m glad you knew well enough to wear damn near nothing when you came back.” Tatsumi looked completely worse for wear, eyes blown wide and blue hair tousled. “What the hell are you doing outside our room, aren’t you the one that wanted for us to stay away from each other?” “Mmhm.” Tatsumi was completely naked from the waist down. From the neck up his skin was flushed red and sweaty, "Yes that was the plan until you decided to leave. "

Tatsuya was in you in an instant, teeth clashing together when he kissed you, your hands rested on clammy skin slowing Tatsumi's process of undressing you. "I'm going to fuck you so well Y/n. Breed your pretty little pussy for all to see." The brazen words of affirmation made your movements stutter in the slightest bit. "If this dirty talk or are you serious?!"

Tatsumi's hands slap down on your ass, gripping the soft flesh in-between his fingers. "I've never been more serious, this is life and death. " Using his hold on your buttocks, he lifts you up with a slight heave before placing you on the two-way countertop. Buttons pop off your shorts hitting the floor as they’re ripped off. Your panties soon join as well, falling to the floor in a graceful heap. Goosebumps plagued your skin at the act of aggression. "So pretty and perfect for me. There isn't any doubt in my mind that this'll work."

You couldn't help but twitch at the praise, making Tatsumi laugh. Slender fingers rub your clit building your pleasure to make you slick. The soft treatment was stopped when Tatsumi pinched the nerve. "Play with yourself while I go get some lube." It seemed almost like a challenge for Tatsumi to pull away from you but he did nonetheless. You hurriedly remove your tank top leaving your black sports bra on, unwilling to wrestle with it. Carefully balancing on the edge of the counter, you resume torturing your clit until sweat begins to build on your own body.

"Tatsumi!" You stuttered, rolling your body enticingly when he came back into your line of sight. "You're so damn sexy." You grab his neck and pull him in between your legs wrapping them around him. "I want to make you feel good, baby come on." You reach in-between your legs, squeezing the tip is cock, biting your lip when it twitches in your hand. "You're so big Tat's, do you want me that badly?"

His hair was dripping with sweat and his face was dusted a pretty red color, one you longed to make bloom. "Fuck yes! I need to feel you squeeze around me, fuck I'm so desperate right now, I'll do anything!" You caress his face cooing as he thrust into your palm like a hormonal teenager. "You ain't got to do nothing for me but put your pretty little cock in me baby!" You take the lube from him and squeeze the cool liquid on his dick making it twitch even more.

Tatsumi gripped the counter with one hand while pumping his lubed cock with the other. "Fuck fuck fuck!" Without warning, Tatsumi cums from his hands, shooting the warm liquid on your pussy lips making the perfect contrast of black and white. This detail went straight to Tatsumi's dick. So while his cock continued to shoot cum he thrust forward till he bottomed out, stretching your pussy to the shape of him. "Tell me when I can move, if it's good, tell me when!"

Tatsumi was teary-eyed staring at the ceiling so he could refrain from moving and possibly hurting you. "You're so warm Y/n, feel so good, all stretched out for me." When you finally relaxed, you lowered your legs, pushing his hips deeper. "Come on daddy, you said you wanted to be me hmm?" Tatsumi caged you against the counter with both hands on the sides, dripping the fake tile as if his life depended on it.

"Oh, don't call that. You know how I feel about that." You planted in his ear, dead-set on dirty talking him to completion. "Oh, you don't feel like being daddy right now baby? You want to be my pretty lil boy?" Tatsumi nodded nibbling in your collarbone. You squeezed your eyes shut as his cock began to move faster.

"Oh, your-fuck! Such a good boy for mommy you know that? I couldn't ask for a better...a better!" Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as Tatsumi pulled you off the counter, bouncing you on his cock while he stood. Tatsumi growled at the vibration your ass caused when it slammed down on his toned thighs. He was exerting himself in a display of primal strength. Your pussy clenched down on him as he held you still. Opting to jackhammer into your body, making you shake.

As ridiculous as you probably looked, the pleasure made up for it. "I'm going to fuck you so damn well, you're not leaving this damn house again!"

And leaving was something you could not do. You were fucked in all sorts of positions in all locations of the house. The only break you got was when you could shower and even that wasn't a break as Tatsumi soon joined you, and fucked you haphazardly against the shower wall. Both of you came in and out of consciousness throughout the days, only having enough time to eat and drink.

On the final day, Tatsumi was the one to wake first. His sleepy eyes blinked at the open window, the same window he made you deep throat him in front of hours ago. "Y/n?" His voice was scratchy and in desperate need of water as he held it gingerly. "Y/n?" You lay next to him, body partially covered in a white sheet that probably only sin if he were to guess from the scratch marks and bites littering both his and your backs.

Tatsumi’s heart raced at your stillness, time armed to slowdown as a shaking hand reached out for you flinching at your cold skin. "N-No!"

It didn't work, he had worked so hard to make it work and his efforts were fruitless. The bed shook with his sobs, he couldn't even look at your still form. What was he going to tell your family? Fuck that, how would he even be able to live with himself. "What do I do, oh God Y/n. I'm so sorry! I-"

"Dawg shut the FUCK UP!"

His crying was interrupted as he was hit full swing with his own pillow. Your almond eyes were swollen most likely from tears of overtime as you squinted at Tatsumi. Pointing an accusing finger at him. "You fucked me for 3 days straight, I deserve sleep. Now be quiet or go somewhere else!" With that, you turned back over, covering yourself with your sheet.

Despite your scolding, Tatsumi felt joy filling his being. When he quieted, he stiffens… if you were alive..that meant you were pregnant…… now how the hell is he supposed to break the news to you?

#tatsumi #shiki tatsumi #anime smut #shiki smut #anime imagines #heat

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