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davenweenie · 1 year

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All the Rats are neurodivergent because I said so. Here as some headcanons that might as well be canon

ND Rats for the win

Leo and Chase are both so autistic, they bond over their nerdy little hyperfixations and it drives Mr Davenport up the walls from the constant chattering of the two

Bree has ADHD that went under the radar for years, it isn’t until they all start going to school and she starts complaining about struggling to focus when Chase tells her that she definitely has ADHD.

Chase has literally diagnosed all the rats with things, he’s the smartest person alive so of course he’ll be able to diagnose people with things. I believe me and Aster came up with this hc but I’m not entirely certain who it was now.

Adam is the classic example of male ADHD, it was caught at a very early age. Davenport always uses it to excuse Adam’s behaviours towards Chase. Adam is always confused about that though because ‘no, I actually meant to punch him, it wasn’t an accident’

Leo is actually AuDHD (unofficial term for a person who is both autistic and has ADHD) which means he never stops running his mouth. Chase grows to appreciate the silences being filled in the lab for once.

Bree never stops moving, often times she’s super speeding whatever stim she’s doing at that time. As a kid she would super jump over and over again until she was physically stopped because the dust she was kicking up would make Chase get itchy and sneezy.

Chase doesn’t stim openly because Mr Davenport once told him he looked like an idiot. (He didn’t actually say idiot, the word actually begins with an R and it’s a slur I refuse to say even though I’m autistic)

Adam really struggles at school, Chase used to make fun of him until he realised that Adam was genuinely really struggling badly. He not tries to help him study and do his homework, sometimes he actually just does his homework if Adam is having a bad day.

Bree is constantly bullied for being the ‘weird’ girl, she tries to fit in by copying outfits she sees in magazines. Adam picks up on it, miraculously, and tells her that she looks really boring now.

Adam matches outfits with Bree to make her feel less self conscious. It helps a lot and Adam actually really likes matching outfits with his sister. Bree really enjoys it too. BRING BACK OUR WONDERFUL WEIRD GIRL BREE. I hate LREF for changing her entire weird girl personality.

Chase genuinely just can’t dress himself. His outfits always clash and he just can’t figure out how to pair things together. Tasha takes him shopping and matched all his outfits for him which helps him get an idea of what matches and what doesn’t. He really loves his new mum. (I cannot say ‘mom’ it genuinely pains me)

Leo introduces Chase to the concept of safe foods when Chase freaked out over the texture of some food in his lunch at school. Chase has so many non-perishable snacks in his locker for days that he’s struggling.

Leo also has so many snacks in his locker, Adam and Bree are always stealing food from both of them.

Chase had a huge meltdown at school when he got overstimulated by all the noise. They had been on a mission the night prior that involved a lot of loud noises from an explosion and school the next day just completely threw him over the edge. His siblings found him huddled in the corner of a janitors closet and that’s when they decided to force Mr Davenport to make Chase some bionic noise cancelling headphones.

Leo is the only person allowed into their capsules, he typically only goes in them if he’s feeling overstimulated because they’re soundproof and noise cancelling. He prefers Chase’s one over Adam and Bree’s because it doesn’t have a strong smell to it. Bree’s one always smells of perfume and Adam’s smells like sweaty teen boy mixed with Lynx body spray. (I recently found out that Lynx is called Axe in the US)

Chase loves physical affection which often gives him imposter syndrome because it makes him think he’s faking being autistic. It isn’t until Leo tells him that he’s the same way that Chase understands how diverse autism is. Of course he knows it’s a spectrum but sometimes he just gets all up in his head about it.

The Rats aren’t really friends with other people. They hang out with each other and don’t stray too far away. They got even more uncomfortable having other friends after the Marcus incident.

Marcus was the first person that didn’t call them weird after their first interaction. Chase was so upset when Marcus betrayed them because he thought someone finally wanted to be his friend. Plus the fact that Marcus nearly killed his brother.

Chase is easily manipulated because he’s autistic. He finds it hard to read people and know if they have ulterior motives.

Adam is very open about having ADHD, Bree mentions it in passing sometimes whereas Chase isn’t very open about being autistic. He was bullied heavily in high school for it and he isn’t prepared for the media to bully him too. At least at school he could escape it when he came home, he doesn’t think he could cope if it was all online 24/7.

Kaz is so excited to find out Chase is autistic, he then very excitedly tells Chase that Oliver is autistic too. Chase is enamoured at how someone is so happy that another person is autistic. It makes him feel really good about himself.

Chase and Kaz get on better than Bree would have expected considering Kaz has ADHD and is very loud. Chase appreciates having someone that understands his sensory issues because Kaz does get it. Kaz will be quiet if he notices Chase is having a hard time dealing with his super senses that day.

The reason Chase loves hanging out in all the labs is because they’re all underground and quiet. Of course there are still some noises that normal people wouldn’t hear but it’s much less than the ones above ground.

This has been very fun to write. Lmk if you want more and of course you can send in ideas or headcanons to discuss.

#lab rats #chase davenport #adam davenport #bree davenport #leo dooley #donald davenport #kaz mighty med #skylar storm #oliver mighty med #kaz lref #oliver lref #chase x kaz #lref #chaz lref #tasha davenport #tasha dooley #donald davenport hate page

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orcboxer · 3 months

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having painstakingly looked through every palworld creature design, I can confidently say I ain't interested. I wanted my negative first impression to be wrong but lord amighty it does not look better up close.

I was an absolute pokemon kid growin up and I love seeing people's fakemon and fangames and the idea of a poke-like game appeals to me, so I have a lot of thoughts. if you feel defensive of palworld then uhhhh don't read this because tldr I think it looks awful

I thought it looked bad when it was announced so I wasn't paying close attention, but lookin through the pals quickly killed what little interest might have been lurking in me. like I don't wanna be unfair to anybody tryna make pokemon-like games, but these things weren't made with love I can tell you that for sure. there's maybe like 5 that look pretty good and original but the rest.... where do I begin

So first thing, the ripoff pokemon designs. I thought people were exaggerating but oh my god, they weren't. I would be disappointed to see one knockoff pokemon model, but there are dozens of them holy shit. Like at least half the dex is badly-tweaked pokemon models. This alone is enough to completely turn me off to the game because creature design is the heart and soul of this genre so if you ain't even gonna bother making your own damn creatures, what's the fuckin point? Even on some of the more "original" designs, I can point to at least one element that was straight up copy/pasted from an existing pokemon.

Second thing, recycled models within the game. Why do so many bird pals use the same (ripped off) body model? Why do so many pals suffer from same-face syndrome? The first pal I saw was Chillet, I thought it was cute. When I looked through the pals, I kept thinking "oh that face looks like Chillet. oh hey that face looks like Chillet. that one too." The overall effect of this is that a majority of the designs are forgettable, they blur together and feel indistinct from one another. the dex feels increasingly hollow with each reused asset. if you got 10 bird designs and 6 of them look the same, you really only got 5 bird designs.

Third thing (sort of. it's related to the other two), I noticed that there are no object-mon designs in palworld, which I would guess is intentional. I get the feeling that the devs were like, "object-mon are stupid, everything has to look like a creature," which is a common discourse topic in poke-like fan communities, and I think that maybe this played a part in the reusing of assets, because making animalistic creatures that look both natural and distinct from each other is hard! Trying to fill a whole dex with no inorganic-ish creatures is a daunting task, and at a certain point you either need a lot of time, or a lot of artists, otherwise you get same-face syndrome and heavy asset recycling. (I personally enjoy object-mons, as they're reminiscent of yokai, it's like hey here's a mundane object that has been inhabited by a little spirit! I think it's cute.)

Fourth thing, the silhouettes are too busy. Chillet works because it's simple and distinct. Most pals, though, have too many features going on at once, and you couldn't really play "who's that pokemon" with them. Again, this is a consequence of trying to mix-and-match the same pool of assets instead of designing from scratch. In order to make them look more distinct from each other you have to just add a bunch of unnecessary frills and appendages that makes for a cluttered visual impression.

Fifth thing, varying degrees of detail? Some of those pals have smooth, almost textureless skin/fur, but then others like jormuntide have super detailed texture? (also I know I've seen jormuntide's face before, it's from a different game on the tip of my tongue but I can't place it right now, but that's beside the point) You generally want to keep your creatures relatively consistent in terms of like, level of texture detail. It's like some of them are just higher resolution. Which if I'm being honest makes me think they stole assets from more than just Pokemon.

Finally, edginess. Maybe this is just me being too cynical but it feels like this game hates Pokemon. It feels like middle schoolers making jokes about hurhur what if somebody killed Barney the Dinosaur with a gun. The whole making them work in factories and butchering them? Who is the target audience here? There's a pal called Hangyu which vaguely resembles a noose and its dex entry says it was used to execute people by hanging them and also ripping their skin off....Come on man.

in terms of pal design, I give palworld 2/10 because Chillet is cute

#orcspeak

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lurinatftbn · 4 months

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If you’re down to answer another question like the music one, what are the characters’ favorite in-universe cuisines/culinary preferences? Or, are there any fun reasons why some characters like/dislike certain things as we see in the glossary?

Off the top of my head:

Utsu dislikes fish because it's ubiquitous in Itan cuisine and had a lot of it served to her poorly-prepared as a kid. I think it comes up in the text at some point, but her favorite food is layered pasta dishes like lasagna. (I know what you're thinking, and no, I didn't do it on purpose.)

Kam is a vegan, but obviously only for health reasons since they don't slaughter animals for meat in the setting. She likes very spicy food like chilis and curry - her favorite is stuffed jalapenos. She also likes crepes.

Ran also kinda likes spicy food, but isn't super passionate about cuisine and mostly just goes for low-effort stuff. She eats a lot of stir fry and dumplings.

Theo also worries about his longer-term health which is why he's on a low-carb diet, but renders this pointless by eating tons of chocolate and sweets all the time. He likes hot fudge cakes the best.

Ptolema just really likes meat. Her favorite is just a really well-seasoned blue steak, probably with blue cheese, and she also probably really enjoys whatever the equivalent of brazilian barbecue is.

I don't think I ever decided what foods Seth likes best except that he eats a lot of junk food. I do remember deciding at some point that he really likes almonds despite being allergic to them.

Ophelia is a pescetarian for cultural reasons. Beyond that, she loves trying all sorts of foods, though shellfish and mushrooms are her favorite ingredients.

Lilith is a hyper-picky eater and doesn't like most vegetables or anything too complicated or mixed together. She probably most enjoys very simple things like chicken nuggets, and only takes small bites so she isn't overwhelmed.

As comes up in the story, Bardiya is a recovering alcoholic, which is the reason for his preference note. I think I put somewhere that kebabs are his favorite food.

Ezekiel dislikes onions because of their slimy and crunchy texture. He likes really straightforward food like Sunday roasts, which in-setting would mean he prefers Rhunbardic cuisine, though he'd never admit it.

Fang will eat anything under the sun, but also doesn't care that much about food in the grand scheme of things. Left to their own devices, they will cook everything into some kind of omelette and think it's great.

Linos doesn't like shellfish because, like Su, he ate a lot of it prepared badly when he was young. He enjoys participating in prestige/fine dining, especially for Ysaran and Viraaki food, more for the sense of being part of a cultural moment than the actual flavor.

Neferuaten likes foods like beyaynetu (or, like, pizza) designed specifically to be eaten communally. On her own she mostly just eats salad, though she has extremely specific opinions about wine and whiskey.

Durvasa likes to grow and preserve his own food, and his favorite is dal soup. He also has extremely specific opinions, though only about whiskey. He doesn't like red meat because he dislikes the idea that he's eating the flesh of a one-living being, even if it's replicated.

Zeno technically does not have a diet, and is sustained nutritionally by other means. He enjoys the taste of very indulgent foods like foie gras and controversial food like cultured human meat. He thinks Viraaki food is 'stinky' and 'greasy'.

Hamilcar does not eat except with company, which is why his entry says N/A. He can't taste food in the way he could when he was young, and he finds it upsetting.

Anna enjoys sushi, but is too old to eat much at all.

Mehit theoretically likes the kind of high-concept Saoic cuisine described by Ran early in the story, but is not a very good cook, so mostly eats things like baked potatoes and fried rice. This is partly why Lilith is the way she is, but only like, 20%.

Balthazar skips breakfast because otherwise he ends up overeating, since he's the type who can just keep going long beyond what's healthy. He's the sort of person who enjoys bizarre high-calorie flavors like fried squid dipped in ice cream.

#asks

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unseelie-grimalkin · 1 year

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Flannán Fest Treat: Nutella Hot Chocolate

I didn’t have time to pull this together on the day it was actually a Treat day, so take this a couple days late (I did do a Treat / Pack prompt that day, but it was fic).

So, after a couple hours of alchemical experiments in my kitchen and months of taking notes on mom blog recipes, I’ve developed what I think is a pretty good Nutella hot chocolate recipe in service of one Flannán mac Lugh.

Ingredients up front:

3 tbsp (~44.3 ml) Nutella

1 ⅓ cup (~315.4 ml) milk (whole milk gives you the creamiest texture, but experiments with almond milk went well, so choose your favorite reasonable milk option [I was scolded by my husband for considering attempting this with strawberry milk, so I feel the need to add the disclaimer for a reasonable milk option just in case anyone else reading this is feral like me])

Optional ingredients (these depend on taste preferences and availability):

Dark or milk chocolate (dark chocolate will compliment the Nutella’s natural taste profile better in contrast, while milk chocolate will give you something very sweet. I am a ride-or-die sweet tooth, so I like milk chocolate for this. It also tastes fine if you don’t want to use chocolate or are using a more chocolatey Nutella taste profile than I have on hand. I did not have cocoa powder on hand, but I can’t imagine it going wrong in this mix if you use that instead of grated chocolate)

Whipped cream (just a solid topping for this in general. Highly recommended from me if you go the dark chocolate route, just for additional taste contrasting layers)

Cinnamon (very nice topping on top of the whipped cream)

Crunched hazelnuts (in case the Nutella was not enough for you, more topping for your whipped cream)

You can make this on a stovetop or in the microwave, depending on what you have available! Though, if you want to add chocolate to your mix, pre-grate it ahead of time! You can experiment with how much chocolate you want to add (I don’t have an exact numerical value for this, as I really did just wing that aspect for me).

Stove:

Take a saucepan and put it over medium heat. If you're as new to cooking as I am, I've been told stainless steel is the best option for this, because there are types of pans (aluminum, unlined copper, etc) that can react very badly to your milk.

Next, you’re gonna add your Nutella and milk. This is going to be all of your Nutella, but only 1/3 cup (~75-80 ml) of your milk. You’re going to stir this mix until it’s fully blended, which should take around 5 minutes or so (this is where I recommend finding your favorite song for Flan and just jamming out, by the way, because you’re just waiting for the Nutella to melt and blend with the milk as you stir).

Once you’ve got your first mix fully blended (should have a nice caramel color to it), you’re going to add the remaining milk (or don’t, if you want it thicker) into the mix and turn that heat up to medium-high (I found out the hard way that if you go straight to high, you get scalded milk and this really, really funky protein skin, which isn’t great for your final product. Like Flan, this must be handled a bit gentler than you’d expect). Once you’re set with your additional milk, you’re gonna get back to stirring. I found a whisk will make this extra-frothy with a bunch of fun bubbles, so that’s my instrument of choice at this part. Now, at this stage is where you can add in some grated chocolate, if’n you’d like. Sprinkle that in while you’re stirring, watch it melt into the mix.

Once you’ve got everything blended together, you can pour it into a mug and get your toppings in order! If you’ve got left over grated chocolate, put that on your whipped cream if you’d like or save it for additional experimentation for later.

Microwave:

You would think the stove version was hard mode. It is not! Microwave for this is infinitely trickier, much to my surprise, because milk scalds really, really easily in the microwave (I should have heeded your warnings, Greta from New Jersey, I’m sorry for thinking you were just being fussy).

Get your favorite microwave-safe mug. Pour all of your allotted milk into it. You’ll want two minutes on high (two minutes is the longest you can go without scalding. I checked). Once you’ve got that over with, take out your mug and grab your Nutella. You’re gonna stir it into the mug with a spoon, keep going until it’s fully melted and mixed in.

At the end of that, you can reheat your mix for 15-second intervals (no longer than that. I checked!) until it’s warm enough for you or to melt your grated chocolate in (mix gently at this stage).

Once you’re set, it’s topping time! Have fun, go nuts, and enjoy!

#flannan fest 2022 #ndm flannán #ndm flannan #flannán mac lugh #na daoine maithe

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hopeless-ro-simptic · 3 years

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Sweet Poison - Yandere Alpha! Tamaki Amajiki x Omega! Reader

Shout out to @homework-is-the-real-killer for the inspiration. I don’t know if you wanted something spicey... but that’s what your getting. I have a part 2 planned out for this guy to kinda explain a little more from Tamaki’s side of things of what is actually going on. Also I have no clue if y’all will like my take on him, but I see him as being someone who yea he’s a little shy but once he gets used to you he’s at least not a complete stuttering mess.

Part 2

Warnings: NSFW, quirk play, definitely tentacle porn, unknowing drug use, dub-con if you squint?, Honestly I don’t know how to tag so If you think I need to add something please tell me.

Word Count: Just over 2k

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“What’s wrong Y/n? You are so fidgety today.”

“Oh, haha am I? Sorry I just really want class to be over so I can go see Tamaki.”

Your friends shared looks before turning back to you questions in the eyes.

“I know you guys are courting, but don’t you think you spend a lot of time with him? You don’t even sit with us at lunch anymore.”

“Oh come on guys, I literally went to the movies with you guys last night.”

“Yea but…”

They didn’t get a chance to finish their sentence, the bell chiming to let everyone know that the school day was officially over. You were flying out of your seat and down the hall before they could even call out your name. You were absolutely giddy, ready to be enveloped in the scent you had grown to love. You turned the corner, pausing for a brief second as your breath caught, watching as Tamaki and his two friends stood chatting. You couldn’t help but think about how much he looked like an angel. He was so perfect, and he was all yours.

Without a regard for the rest of the students you took off down the hall practically jumping on the alpha wrapping your arms around his neck as his instinctively wrapped around your waist pulling you against him and burying his blushing face into your neck.

“B-Bunny. You got here fast.”

“I missed you.” You took a deep inhale of his scent and could feel him doing the same. Nothing made you feel as good as being near the alpha.

You didn’t see the looks that his friends shared, Mirio clearing his throat one, twice, three times before Tamaki finally pulled away from you enough to look at the taller blonde. Shoving his hands into his pockets but still leaning on you, his face beet red once he realized the attention the two of you had garnered from the rest of the hallway.

“Ah, I’m sorry Tamaki, I didn’t mean to make a scene…”

“Trust me, it’s fine. He won’t say it but he loves it. He hasn’t stopped talking about you all day.” Nejire jumped in making both of you blush even harder, Takami burying his face in your shoulder mumbling softy to you.

“Can we go now?”

You couldn’t help but smile, reaching up and patting his hair gently, agreeing quietly with the timid alpha before the two of you said your goodbyes to his friends.

The two of you slowly made your way over to the third years dorms, fingers intertwined, completely skipping over your own room and opting to go into his instead. Shortly after the two of you had started courting, he had been so nervous to ask you to move your nest into his room, saying he just wanted to you close to him, and how could you say no to such a sweet request? Now, just two months into courting, you practically lived together, only leaving when the teacher would come by to do their final check that everyone was in their correct rooms, just to sneak back in only an hour later.

The only reason the two of you weren’t bonded yet was because UA had a strict policy against it, insisting their students wait until they were graduated so as to keep them focused on their studies. Still… everyone knew you belonged to Tamaki.

Once the two of you were finally alone in his room, you couldn’t help yourself, immediately latching onto him, nuzzling against his cheek softly and cooing into his ear. He wasn’t any better, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling the two of you into your nest that was on his bed, pressing his lips against your scent gland kissing softly as he started to thoroughly scent you, taking his time and making sure to cover everything.

“I missed you so much. I hate that you have to be around other alpha’s all day, muddles your scent.” The stutter in his voice was gone, and even though he was speaking softly, murmuring really, he was doing it right in your ear making you wiggle against him. He had grown to be so comfortable with you that once the two of you were alone, it was clear as day he was an alpha. One that your omega was dying to submit to his every, albeit quiet, whim.

You hummed in agreement, shifting so that you were comfortably laying halfway on top of him, a soft purr leaving your lips as he rubbed his cheek against you, before he started to pepper soft kisses along your jaw moving towards your lips.

The entire room was filled to the brim with his mouth-watering scent, the scent of sea salt mixed and lavender with just the slightest hint of something warmer, darker, that you couldn’t place. Whatever it was, was absolutely heaven to you, and the timid dark haired alpha was pumping it out like he wanted to coat the entire building in it.

“Tama-“ You started to whine, your omega needing more, only for his gentle and oh so soft lips to be pressed against yours, swallowing your needy sound, his inner alpha making him a little bolder after being separated from you all day. You kissed him back, feeling yourself getting worked up just by being near him, touching him, smelling him, let alone kissing him. He slid his tongue against your lips hesitantly and you immediately parted your lips allowing him entrance which he greedily took. You practically melted against him, a soft purr leaving your chest as one of his hands slipped up into your hair lightly holding your head in place. It was at that point you noticed his tongue was getting bigger, longer, slimier, and the texture changing. You knew that if you pulled away now you would see that it had changed into a tentacle and you couldn’t help but clench your thighs slightly at that thought, a groan leaving his lips at you squeezing him between your thighs.

And then all at once he tasted so mouth wateringly sweet, so delicious, so… addicting. You could feel your mind filling up with the dizzying fog that always came with kissing your alpha, a high that you could never get enough of. It was this feeling, this feeling of flying, that made you so sure that he was the alpha for you. That made you know without a doubt that you would never want another. That you would never leave him.

You felt like your body was going numb, no longer having control of it and enjoying the high that he was giving you as he regarded you carefully through silted eyes before he slowed the kiss and pulled away, your eyes latching onto the string of saliva that connected the two of you, a soft whimper leaving your lips as you shuffled closer. You wanted more, needed more. More, more, more, more, more of him. You couldn’t control the whine that left your lips, your eyes transfixed on his own, leaning down to press soft kitten licks that he blushed at, tasting the lingering sweet spit that was left behind.

“D-do you love me bunny?”

You didn’t hesitate, pressing your lips against his own in short quick pecks, desperately trying to get him to open back up, to let you have more of that high that you so badly wanted. That only he could give to you.

“Yes. More than anything.”

His hands came up shakily to your hips, digging his fingers into the plush flesh there, just the touch making you gasp softly, his eyes transfixed onto your face with awe, soaking in every reaction, even blush, every flutter of your eyes as he kneaded your skin.

“Do you promise?” You could feel his grip guiding you, nudging you to move up and up and up until you had your knees on either side of his blushing face, his fingers cupping your ass from underneath your school skirt, shaking as they brushed at your panties which were already soaked tugging them down slowly, oh so slowly. His eyes flicking from your face to what lied before him, begging for attention, slick dripping down your thighs. He could practically taste you from here.

You nodded, not even realizing the amount of whimpers that were leaving your lungs, your fingers gripping into his hair as you looked down at him, your brain filled to the brim with every thing him. His smell, his taste, his touch. Him. Him. Him. Him. Him.

“You won’t leave me?”

You shook your head, your body trembling at this point from pure excitement. Did everyone feel this way with their alpha? Would it always be this intense? How did anyone get anything done?

“I…I n-need to hear you bunny.” You could feel it as his tongue, no, his tentacle, slid up your thigh, licking up the running slick, suctioning to the highest part, just below your sopping cunt before releasing making blood rush to the spot and forcing a high pitched mewl out of your mouth. His eyes never leaving your face, seeming more and more confident with each gasp and whine leaving your lips.

“I promise. I love you Tamaki. Please.. god.. I need you. I won’t ever leave you. No matter what. I love you. Please, please, please, please. Alpha.” Your fingers gripped his hair, you could feel tears stinging into your eyes, you felt like you would actually combust into flames if you didn’t get more of him right this second. Your skin was starting to itch, feeling like something was crawling all over you and you could feel your body breaking out into a sweat.

Somewhere in the very back of your mind, something told you this wasn’t normal. Being completely and utterly addicted, to the point of almost pain-… you weren’t due to start your heat any time soon, knowing full well that most omega’s didn’t go into heat until they were at least 20. No… this was different… this was-

Your whole body shuddered, brain turning off completely when he all at once yanked on your hips, forcing you down onto his face, his tongue sliding against your core and deep into your cunt, much farther than it was supposed to be able to, to the point that you could feel it in your stomach, suction cups sliding against your sensitive swollen clit as he pumped his tongue in and out of you, making you choke on your own screams, tears spilling over onto your cheeks at the intensity of it all.

You should have been embarrassed when he inhaled deeply, a low primal growl that you never imagined him making leaving his lips as he breathed in your scent, but you couldn’t do anything, couldn’t think of anything, other than the glorious feeling of euphoria that was filling your mind, as the high that you had been chasing finally returned to you again. The world was filled with bright colors, your mind filling with a fog that just felt so good that you never wanted it to leave. Everything was perfect. He was perfect. Your alpha. Nothing could ever change that fact. Nothing could ever make you want to leave.

When you finally came back down from your high, you had realized you must have passed out from the bliss. Tamaki had you laying on your back, a warm washcloth pressed to your forehead, his arms wrapped around you tightly as he layed against your side, his face pressed against your neck, nuzzling you softly and cooing into your ear of how much he loved you, asking if you were okay, how he would take care of you, how you never needed to worry about anything, how he loved his omega.

You couldn’t help but smile trusting all of his words and snuggled further into his grasp, a soft contented sound leaving your lips, enjoying the sounds of his pretty words being murmured to you. The soft, gentle, loving kisses that were carefully placed along your neck and face. The feeling of his arms turned tentacles tightened their grasp around your form, holding you in place against him leaving no wiggle room.

You felt completely and utterly safe in his grasp, knowing he would never let you go.

You were his sun, his moon, his everything. You were his.

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#tamaki amajiki #mha tamaki #tamaki #amajiki #bnha tamaki #bnha amajiki #mha amajiki #bnha #mha #omegaverse #alpha tamaki amajiki #omega reader #bnha omegaverse #mha omegaverse

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blushnote · 3 years

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↳ requested | 1.6k words

↳ dom!wonwoo smut

a/n: HELLO. i’m sure everyone is wondering what’s going on and WHY i’ve been absent for a few months. put simply: things got hectic and i needed a break! i’m not saying i’ll jump back into being completely active again, but that i’m going to come on as often as i can! (which might be every few days or so! i apologize!!)

as a treat for everyone - this features rich girl wonwoo! <3

wonwoo stands at the street pole, conversing with his friends. the bar is unusually crowded. mostly likely because it’s a friday and there isn’t much else the townspeople would rather do than get plastered, forgetting the atrocities of work. his friend extends a box of cigarettes to wonwoo, offers him one, but he shakes his head.

since getting involved with you, wonwoo has attempted to forfeit smoking. it has always been something he’s done to pass the time at the street corner. plus, he likes the idea of blowing a big, stinging cloud right into someone’s face when they give him attitude.

instead wonwoo suckles on a lollipop that tastes like an artificially sweet strawberry, pushes up the bridge of his glasses, and folds some silvery hair under his beanie. he knows it’s about the right time for you to be returning from that dinner party your parents forced you into attending.

as wonwoo’s friend exaggerates a tale about getting into a fist-driven confrontation at a bus stop last week, someone strutting by on the packed street bumps wonwoo’s shoulder.

“choose a better place to stand.” the stranger rumbles, agitated.

wonwoo flicks up his middle finger indifferently. “fuck off.” he grunts, the fog of his breath appearing in the night air.

he’s feeling sort of agitated himself. your parents have tethered you to a leash lately, forcing you to all these fancy gatherings and opening ceremonies and dinners. to put it frankly – wonwoo misses you. your laugh, your eyes, the texture of your skin, your voice in his ear. he’s been wanting an excuse to get his hands all over you. every single inch.

that’s when he hears the ding in his jacket pocket. looking away from the dramatic enactment involving his friend driving a fist into his palm, wonwoo checks his phone to see a text from you. a series of images.

23:28 // JPEG.1034

23:28 // JPEG.1035

23:28 // JPEG. 1036

the three pictures load. he chokes on his breath.

23:28 // i know u don’t like when i spoil my lingerie but.

23:28 // don’t i look so cute :( so fuckable?? im srry but I had to :(

his teeth crack the strawberry lollipop into sugary shards in his mouth. that lace is squeezing your flesh in all the right places. the picture with your fingers splayed teasingly over your underwear, hiding your core, it’s enough to make him shudder, salivate even. he’s officially ignoring his friend’s story by tapping a reply, fiddling with the thin stick in his mouth.

(ww) 23:30 // u free now? head to my place.

he receives an answer immediately.

23:30 // hmmm why?

(ww) 23:30 // u know why. don’t act like such a brat.

already, wonwoo can sense the desire form inside him. pounding almost. like a second heartbeat. you’re usually compliant and bending to his carnal whims. maybe all this time away from each other has you forgetting just how well wonwoo can fuck that stubbornness out.

23:30 // it’s new. i don’t want u ripping anything!!

(ww) 23:30 // idc.

23:30 // so mean!! not even gonna let u touch me now :-)

(ww) 23:30 // yeah. ok. we’ll see about it then.

after sliding his phone back in his pocket, wonwoo glances briefly in through the bar window. he sees a bartender pour a glass full of ice cubes before sloshing in a surge of alcohol. at that, wonwoo gets an idea. when his friends question about why he’s leaving so suddenly, he smirks.

“need to teach someone how to behave.” wonwoo shrugs before jogging quickly across the street.

“i’m not gonna tell you again. keep your fuckin’ thighs spread nice and wide for me or else i won’t let you cum – not even once. you understand?”

a harsh dip in your stomach suggests the breath you just inhaled. after a moment of silence, he hears you comply, and watches with his hungry, intent gaze as your legs part open for him. wonwoo has been teasing you with a bowl of ice cubes. at first, he held them to your nipples, had you whimpering into his mouth while he simultaneously rubbed his tongue against yours. but the real fun began when he introduced the ice cubes to your lower region. it was a very different punishment compared to his past endeavours, a tantalizing one.

wonwoo returns the cube to the nook of your inner thigh, then creeps it slowly toward your core. you’re beginning to tremble with the restraint required to not snap your legs shut. the ice cube ghosts transiently up your slit, a contact you had yet to experience, and a beautiful gasp tears from your lungs. he swears that you leak even more onto the sheets.

he takes the cube away, then drags his warm tongue from the bottom of your pussy right to the top, delivering a slow, flat lick which tastes sweet and cold and makes him so unbelievably dizzy with how much he loves it.

“w-wonwoo, please, pl-please keep going.” you stutter, opening your thighs even wider to invite his tongue.

he shakes his head. “what else did i tell you? don’t ask me to do anything. you’ll lie there and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” smiling, wonwoo issues a tight grip on the ice cube and presses it right into your clit. you whine sharp and loud, your hands traveling all over your body in confusion, not sure if it’s more pleasure than pain, or a hot mix of both.

“or are you still interested in acting like such a brat, hm?” wonwoo utters in his deep voice. “ like a smug little princess who thinks she can tease me whenever she wants and she’ll still get my cock all the way inside her? nice and full, just how she likes it. is that it, babygirl?”

he feels the ice melt under his fingers. you can hardly piece together a response, just a very incoherent, “no wonwoo” as tears start slipping down your cheeks. wonwoo takes the cube away, then massages your clit with his thumb, warming you up slowly. a few jolts pass through your body. he can tell you’re falling apart inside with how badly you want to cum, though wonwoo had strictly told you to hold it. he rubs and rubs and rubs, barking at you to control yourself, your pussy so slippery with arousal that it’s running all down your skin and wetting the bed.

right when he feels you’re about to snap, wonwoo completely removes his touch. you wail at that, suckle in a shaky breath and cry his name.

“please, wonwoo! i-i’m sorry, m’soso sorry! i’m sorry for acting so bratty and sending those pictures, t-teasing you like that! but i just c-ccan’t take this anymore. treat me however you want, but please let me cum!”

he’s truly missed the sound of you begging for him. his cock twitches in his pants, reminding him of how hard he currently is. each time you cry the boy’s name in such a lewd manner, there’s another surge of pleasure and he aches even more, to the point where he could cum just from touching himself over his clothes. still, wonwoo must ensure you’ve really learned your lesson. so, he offers you a deal. he’ll get to watch you pleasure yourself with the ice cube until he cums.

and so wonwoo sits in a chair based at the end of the bed, a hand stuffed down his pants, watching you swirl an ice cube at your sensitive core. he guides you every now and then: “hold it right there, pretty baby. let it melt all the way down. that’s it, sweetheart. n-now rub it, okay? f-finger yourself too. nnrgh, f-fuck. fuck you sound so wet. m’gonna c-cum—”

his strokes lash faster until wonwoo’s head rolls back against the chair, his eyes blinking shut while he chases his high. he hears you continue to whine as he cums, his cock throbbing in his hand, still so hard and heavy. in fact, wonwoo requires a moment just to breathe and let the heat circulate properly through his body.

with his fingers covered in the sticky mess of his cum, wonwoo approaches the bed again, fingering it as deep as he can inside you. he’s unable to remove his gaze from the filthy sight. there’s something so raw and intimate about watching his own seed getting pumped into you that sets his whole body aflame. he decides to let you orgasm as well, stimulating your g-spot consistently, letting you clamp down tight and ride his hand until you’ve got a full fix.

wonwoo supposes he’s done his job.

“i don’t think i’ll ever be able to look at an ice cube the same way again.” you laugh, sitting back against the headboard, tucked into his t-shirt.

drawing a warm washcloth between your thighs, wonwoo blinks at you, a very sly grin forming on his mouth. he plants a kiss on your nose.

“good. means it worked.” the boy says.

he folds the cloth over and finishes the last of his cleaning, ensuring there’s nothing more of his fluids that are still leaking out or anything sticking from your orgasm. grabbing your overnight bag off the floor, wonwoo pulls out a fresh pair of underwear and helps you slide into them. your lingerie sits in a pile off to the side, a few lace straps ripped.

“sorry about your little outfit.” wonwoo apologizes, staring at you earnestly. “it was pretty. you look good in everything.” he squeezes your hip and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“it’s okay.” you murmur. “i’ll order something even better. and i’ll surprise you with it. maybe for your birthday. sound good?”

“mmhm.” wonwoo purrs, pulling you down with him to cuddle up close for the night.

“as long as i can take it off you, sweetheart, i’m fine with that.”

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt smut #jeon wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #svt fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #svt x reader #wonwoo x reader

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nat-20s · 3 years

Text

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad.

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon: No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true. Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look.

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

#wonderful! au #jonmartin #tma #jon sims #martin blackwood #my fic #thank you to everyone that submitted!!!#also; i am offically out of ideas for installments #more may come later but i make no promises!

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coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

Note

if adrien didn’t have to wear g*briel clothes, what sort of aesthetic do you think he’d have?

This is such a hard question Sketchyyyy hahaha.

Well, I mean, hard for me because I don't have any clue about fashion but hmm let me think.

There are a few elements to this answer. First, I think that some of the basic rules of how to put a nice outfit together have inevitably stuck with him, so it's not that he doesn't know how to dress.

He just chooses not to.

I feel the only scenario where Adrien would be able to dress as he pleases would be if g*briel were out of the picture altogether. And once that happens, I feel like these two things would happen in succession:

1) One day Adrien, Mari, and their friends are shopping and Adrien so far has not picked anything for himself, then Mari asks why and he's about to answer 'because my dad doesn't let me' but then he realizes: there's no one to boss him around anymore so he can actually pick. And he's like OH MY GOD.

2) Because at that moment he relates anything remotely related to fashion to G*briel, he scorns it (don't worry, he will later make peace with fashion because it will remind him of Mari in the future, not his garbage father). So even though he knows how to dress, and has the money to do so, he absolutely rejects it and just. mixes different styles and colors and textures, and Adrien has a phase when it legit looks like the closet just barfed on him.

And then everyone is like, oh my god Adrien HOW are you so bad at dressing. And he's like "It's a fashion statement" and no one gets the joke except Mari because the only way anyone could ever dress THAT badly, is if you know how to dress at all. So actually, yes, it IS a fashion statement.

#coccinelle answers #sketchy panda #the nell tag #thank you sketchy!!#i really don't know what adrien's style would be other than voluntary fashion disaster #miraculous ladybug #ml headcanon

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pandemilkbread · 3 years

Text

devil 007 (prologue)

devil 007 (Bakugo Katsuki x Reader)

summary:

(demon!au)

Turns out Bakugo Katsuki never wanted to eat your soul, rather he just needed someone to play video games with.

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: ʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏʟᴏɢᴜᴇ. ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ :>

☆ ☆ ☆

𝑖. 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑢𝑒

“That was a fucking accident.”

“An explosion that big is not an accident!”

You might be wondering how the hell were you hanging on the tallest building in the underworld holding on to a pipeline for your dear life. While your notorious partner-in-crime Bakugo just watched as you dangled ninety feet in the air.

“I swear if I die I will shitting haunt you for all eternity! You’d be fed up with all my shit the moment my soul reaches your territory. Just imagine, me annoying you fore—“

“Jump.” He grumbled.

No. Jump? Hell no. You’d rather die than jump into his arms. Bakugo was more likely to miss, and you’d fall (probably five storeys) before he dare tried to save you.

You wanted to scream. How all this happened in the first place, you hardly remember. No, you did remember.

It was all because of that stupid book.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

It was a mishap, really. The wrong book got delivered to the wrong place at the wrong time, and exactly the wrong thing happened as a consequence.

You were a college student who had just finished the semester, and frankly... a miserable one you were. Failing a quiz was one thing, but you had to mess up your finals so badly a retake wouldn’t suffice. You had to take up the subject all over again.

Sighing, you lay flat on your back. The ceiling had this magical property to suck up all the negativity in your life.

(it didn’t. but you’d like to think so.)

You had all the time in the world to repeat the subject. The problem? Cash. Having a scholarship at a prestigious university wasn’t easy. One measly failure could mean bye-bye free tuition fees and hello student loans that could last centuries + a liver.

Doomed you were, honey. You groaned. At least the treasury board approved the student allowances; which meant? The poor student (you) finally bought the heavy shitass syllabus for your major. The subject you failed.

It could take weeks for the parcel to arrive. What did you expect? You only ordered it days ago. The sooner it gets here, you’d be studying your ass off until 5 A.M. for weeks. Hooray.

A sudden ring of the doorbell awoke you from your senses. Huh, it did arrive earlier than you expected. You scooted towards the door and twisted it open. There lay a box wrapped in tape, a sticker with the words ‘fragile: handle with care’ shone in bright yellow.

You picked it up and shook the item. It was lighter than you expected. How the heck did a 700 page book become as light as a diary? Did they send you the wrong thing? Crap. You scoured the whole box to find neither details about who the recipient nor who the sender was.

Oh, well. Did that mean you could keep whatever was inside? You grinned. Opening up the box, you find out it was a vivid red book entitled:

Ultimatum Wishes: The Ultimate Spellbook for Summoning Demons! All your wishes will come true! Follow the instructions inside.

Yeah, right. Like you could summon a demon to send you a trillion yen.

(apparently, doubt didn’t stop you from trying.)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

First of all, what the actual fuck.

Your curiosity got the best of you. The instructions were pretty easy; sugar, salt, dirt, water, a jar of mayonnaise, a drop of blood— basically, the usual ingredients for summoning demons. Like that’s shitting normal? You had to mix them all together and spread them into the circle you drew on earlier.

Second, did you really summon a demon?

You were obviously not in your dorm room. It was bigger, darker, and colder to what you were accustomed to. After saying a stupid chant, you make a wish and boom! demon comes to you. So the instructions said.

It was a joke, really. You never thought the book was actually real! Once you said your wish, a bright light flashed and... you were here. A basement like room devoid of light, making your fingers the only things you could see at the moment.

You were sprawled on your back, staring at your hands. If only your eyes could adjust to the light then you would be on your merry way to finding the exit. Except, that you didn’t really need to adjust. The lights opened with a flash and you were met with red eyes:

“Took you long enough, brat!”

Lastly, who the hell was this?

The moment you and this miniature bomb exchanged looks, and he realized that you weren’t the person he was hoping for, the man grabbed the collar of your shirt lifting you high up to the ceiling.

“How the fuck did you get here stupid human? Pretty gutsy of you to just waltz in like you own the place, hm?” He growled, slightly shaking you with every syllable he uttered.

You barely registered it, you-know before you were lifted up, but this person in front of you was terrifying. He radiated waves of “answer properly or i’ll rip you into shreds” and you didn’t want to die.

(not at least before smacking this crappy brute.)

“Put me down you—you crappy dog! Treat me nicely and I’ll tell you everything,” You choked.

He scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “You’re really haggling with me now, maggot? The last time I checked I could easily squeeze the fucking life out of you—”

“T-The book! Shitty book! Followed it and I’m here!”

And with that you were dropped onto the floor. You yelped upon impact, rubbing the area of your neck with your fingers. That hurt. Your eyes hovered to your assailant and saw his frustration building up. Hoo, a little bit more and he’d be on fire.

“...How’d you get it?”

“Sent to my doorstep. D-Didn’t think it was real I thought—”

“You opened it knowing it wasn’t yours?”

“Oh, no you aren’t! Don’t blame me for your shitty mistake in the first place!”

“Watch your tongue, human.”

You sighed. Everyone knew you were someone who wouldn’t back down from a fight, but your senses told you otherwise. There was a fine line between pissing him off and stabbing you in the heart, you knew you were likely closer to the latter part of the scale.

“Fine. Whoever that package was sent to, it came to me instead. Why am I here?”

He contemplated for a while, searching for the right words to spout out. Oh God no. Were you brought here as a sacrifice? You shook your head. Anything but that! Sweat dribbled down your forehead. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“...to kill...”

Yeaph. And with that, you blacked out.

(imagine, fainting from your own demolition. oh, you hope you didn’t actually break a bone or two.)

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You awoke to a strange tapping noise, more like a smack, and groans of infuriation. The vivid colors of black, pink, and yellow caught your attention, making you stare in awe. Was that Mario Kart...?

The clicking sound came from the blonde who sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes drawn to big television screen in front of him. While you were on a black couch around three hands away from the man. Seemingly, he could sense your tiny movements as you sat up, compelling him to chuck a controller at you.

“You gonna play or what?”

Huh? You took the object, feeling the texture in your hands. It’s been a while since you held a controller; even longer since you played a game at all. The game home screen flashed, the cursor hovering over the “new game” button. He clicked it forcing the game to switch into the character screen.

The man picked Bowser. Ah, not surprising. You grinned as you chose Princess Peach.

The game began immediately after and you thought, wow. You sucked at this game! Your cart hit track walls, bounced on boulders, special items that you sent managed to hit you instead. Rigged, this must be rigged! Just because the last time you played the game was ten years ago, doesn’t automatically mean you were shit at it.

Your companion thought differently.

“You’re crappy at this game.” He sneered.

You rolled your eyes. “It’s just the first game! A warm-up, you’ll see.”

And yes, he did see. See you fail round after round, time after time, the twenty games you played seemed to only prove your awful skills at a simple multiplayer game. You groaned. How was it possible to lose this much? Even the computer controlled characters beat you senseless.

Gently placing the controller on the sofa, you wrapped your arms around your knees. Was this a test? A test to see whether if you were worth killing? Oh boy, you would have been slaughtered at the first playthrough.

“Are you going kill me now?” You murmured.

If this was how you were going to go, at least you had fun. Well, you did lose more times than you could count. But hey, it was enjoyable.

“Ha. You think I’d let you go that easily?” He stood up, turned and grabbed the controller. “You made a pact with me, and now you’re gonna run away?”

His other hand reached for your chin and pulled it up, your eyes meeting his.

“What’d you wish for, princess?”

alright. so that’s the prologue! thank you for reading. i’ll have the chapter one ready soon. so pretty much, what happened was: you received a package. bored as you were followed the instructions and summoned a demon. except, you were actually summoned somewhere else to bakugo no less.

the introductions come on to the next chapter!! please leave a like if you like it aaaaa it would mean alot ;;;;

#bakugo katsuki #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x you #boku no hero imagines #boku no hero scenarios #bnha fics #devil 007

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drabbles-of-writing · 4 years

Note

the isles. Maybe the mainland witches are weaker but more efficient in their casting and stronger in the isles, or maybe they can't handle the sheer abundance of magical energy in the isles and mess up any spell they cast. And on the topic of the inhabitants since you said that the ancestors of the Isle witches are humans and a feline magical creature, are the mainland witches similar or something else entirely? 2/2

Mom said it’s my turn with the creative brain juice. gibe.

Witches are born with equal amounts of magic, but the Titan’s heart definitely adds to the magic of the area. Making wild magic a lot more powerful and stronger. Which, in some cases, can end up going badly. If only wild magic is used in a strong surplus all at once it can actually override a witches bile sac and give them what’s equivalent to a heart attack that they may or may not die from. Believe me when I say it’s a good thing Eda was using her staff during that fight in Agony of a Witch. Which means that since most Mainland witches use wild magic, they would have a very hard time on the Boiling Isles trying to not overload their entire system.

This doesn’t necessarily make an Isles witch weaker or stronger than a Mainland witch, as different witches have stronger bile sacs who can handle the magic that the Titan’s heart gives off. Typically younger witches can handle it a lot better. It just means that Eda wouldn’t have to limit herself with wild magic on the Mainland and a Mainland witch would have to try and avoid wild magic all together.

All witches come from the Mainland, with anything else that’s sentient and walks that doesn’t look like a typical witch being labeled as a demon. Therefore they all do share the same common ancestors, but there are a few minor differences between Mainland and Isle witches, simply by the evolution of living in different areas.

In the Isles, the witches I have have pointy ears, fangs, nails that act as small claws, and a wide range of cat-like noises and minor physical traits. The Mainland witches, however, are a bit more...feral-looking. Mainland witches have far longer ears that are slightly skinnier than that of an Isle witch. All of their teeth are sharp to an extent, not just the main four fangs. They can also retract their nails, which are thicker than Isle witches. Their nails can go from regular cut-nails to big ass acrylic nails. Which means if any of them saw Lilith or Eda’s long nails, they’d probably think those two were either very aggressive or they broke their claws somehow. They also have better night vision, though it’s still not as good as purely nocturnal animals. It’s not uncommon for some of them to have fur anywhere ranging from their back, shoulders, neck, chest, arms and legs. It’s not usually super abundant, but it’s noticeable simply because it has a different texture compared to hair and it can raise like hackles when the Mainland witch who owns them starts getting testy. They make about the same noises as Isle witches, but many can mix in calls similar to chirping, clicks, barks and howls. It depends on where the witch lives and what noises they picked up on from the wildlife.

Basically, Mainland witches are a lot more feral. And they even have a different accent, which can best be described as country mixed with Scottish.

#asks #the owl house #boiling isles #witches #the mainland #eda clawthorne #eda #physical traits #mainland witch #feral #info dump #emperor belos #titans heart

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valla-chan · 3 years

Text

65 Questions You Aren't Used To answered by ME

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

Sometimes, but it always goes away fairly quickly.

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

3, im not actively afraid of the dark itself but it can exacerbate paranoias

3. The person you would never want to meet?

The guy on reddit with like 100 different parasites he spreads to people around him

4. What is your favorite word?

Catgirl or Ghost maybe idk

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

Monterey Cypress

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

Oh my god my hair is so fucked, i look dead in the face too

7. What shirt are you wearing?

gray longesleev :)

8. What do you label yourself as?

gray-ace trans girl who is probably actually nonbinary but ignores that for the sake of simplicity

9. Bright room or dark room?

dark

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

in a voice call watching my friend stream hl2: lost coast

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

19-20

12. Who told you they loved you last?

gf :)

13. Your worst enemy?

congress republicans

14. What is your current desktop picture?

I have 3, and currently all of them are on images of hatsune miku

15. Do you like someone?

mhm

16. The last song you listened to?

No Children - The Mountain Goats

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

Mitch McConnell

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

Donald Trump

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

A clone of myself, who i would make work on my portal mod lul

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

My hair perhaps

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

I dont know if this would make me male, female, or a trans man!

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

Getting people to like me when i want them to, i guess? It sounds manipulative but if you dont use it to manipulate people, and you dont always do it (because sometimes you dont want the person to like you), then is it?

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

I am afraid that my perception of other things is inaccurate and eventually i will realize that people around me regard me as someone who is very much detached from objective reality.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

Crab+lobster mix, avocado, cheese, caramelized onions, bacon, sourdough bread, basil+a bit of garlic, and probably other stuff i cant think of.... oh and sunchips stuffed inside that i could pull out and eat.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

Save it!!

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

California!

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

1) If you die we eat you

29. What is your favorite expletive?

simply saying the word KILL!

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

My computer :( it would cause the most extreme impact to have it be destroyed. i would feel terrible about everything else though

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

I’d rather not say.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

sounds awful :(

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

My kitty :(

34. What was your last dream about?

I was playing a hidden level in Frogger: the Great Quest but then @ sleepysoul DM’d me to ask what my newest video was about cause she was weirded out by it, and i went to my youtube channel to find this bizarre video about crab-catching, which slowly descended into this video showing bizarre and cosmic horrors. For some reason i thought i uploaded it and tried to defend the video, but i could not explain it

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]?

I am a good 3d modeler, texturer, game mapper, and other things that have to do with digital 3d artstuff

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

yes

38. What is the color of your socks?

All of mine are tan or dark blue. super lame and boring

39. What type of music do you like?

Most currently, it fluctuates between “weirdcore” type aesthetic playlists of music, and anything Vocaloid.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

Sunrises, because im usually not awake for them so they are extra special

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

strawberry maybe

43. Do you have any scars?

One on the side of my butt where i tore it open on the bathtub faucet, one on my elbow from a bike accident, and

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

I dropped out :(

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

my cheekbones and eyebrow ridge stick out so weirdly, id make it not look like that

46. Are you reliable?

on small things? yes. on big things? nope, not in the least.

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

Have you finally gotten out of this rut and found happiness and success?

48. Do you hold grudges?

i kinda do but try not to

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

Catgirl

51. Are you a good liar?

only when im not trying to.

52. How long could you go without talking?

consecutively, maybe a fourth of a day

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

short.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

I’ve helped, but never done it myself!

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

Oh, believe me, no. But i do it anyway because its objectively hilarious

56. What do you like on your toast?

Not beans.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

Miku :) (it turned out so badly i scrapped it)

58. What would be you dream car?

Golden Leopard Print Golf Cart

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

I lie down as to not pass out (and cause warmn wotter....)

60. Do you believe in aliens?

[redacted]

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

never

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

E? (it has a nice synesthetic color)

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

Dinos

64. What do you think about babies?

gremlins. strange beings. they are very strange and creepy-ish but can be cute but RARELY. keep away.

#thast me #i was boared sooo

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evesbeve · 4 years

Text

it's tough to get away (tua s2 fix-it)

MAJOR SEASON 2 SPOILERS!

Summary: Ben has finally crossed the light, but has unfinished business back on earth. He does the only thing he can think of; he begs God to send him back.

Relationships: Ben Hargreeves & God, Ben Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves

(Read on AO3)

___

“I have to go back.”

In the end, Ben didn’t get to cross the light.

The first time he laid his eyes on it, he was only sixteen with a foot in the grave, quite literally. It felt as if he’d been staring at it for hours, debating whether he should take the next step or not, because truth was, he wasn’t ready. For every second Ben was still on earth, he lost another one of his senses, he felt more and more numb, more and more dead. At least he couldn’t feel the monster in his stomach anymore.

There was nothing left for him in the world, and yet he wasn’t ready to leave it behind. Ben had been stripped of everything. His senses, his feelings, his honor. He didn’t even want to think about what kind of sorry excuse of a funeral his father put together for him.

Looking ahead into the light should have felt reassuring, but it only made Ben more anxious. All his life, Ben had never been sure of what would happen next, but nothing had ever scared him more about the future than this.

So when he heard the voice of his brother calling him back to earth, Ben didn’t hesitate.

Klaus had told him, that first day he conjured him, that he could go back to light anytime he wanted. He had assured him. Ben wasn’t an idiot though; he knew his brother, and he knew the way he lied. Klaus had no clue whether what he was claiming was possible.

But it was okay, because that meant Klaus wanted him there. So Ben stayed.

He spent the next years alongside Klaus, watching him self-destruct. It was fine, for the most part, but Ben could feel himself growing bitter. There was a voice in the back of his head that whispered ‘I told you so,’ as if it was a price for staying, but Ben never figured out who it belonged to.

He did visit the light again. Occasionally.

But he never crossed it. Not even when he stopped feeling altogether. Not even when he was certain Klaus didn’t want him around anymore. Because despite everything, Ben was still scared.

In the end, the light pulled him in.

It was funny, really. Ben had thought he could avoid it forever, but of course he’d been wrong. It came to him in shiny flickers of blue, resting on his clothes, on his skin. It was there to take him away, but also to make him feel again; the more light came, the more he could feel his sister’s arms around him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. It was almost seventeen years ago.

Vanya never pulled away from the hug, and Ben didn’t stop feeling it for a long time.

Heaven was… nice.

Really, there was no other word to describe it. It was nice. Ben felt content in a way he’d never felt before, and everything was calm and peaceful. He earned a blank slate. He could be whoever he wanted.

And yet.

“You know you can’t do that,” the little girl with the hat told him as she continued picking her flowers and placing them on her bike’s basket. “Once you cross the light, that’s it.”

“But I didn’t,” Ben insisted, wishing she’d look him in the eye. “I didn’t cross it.”

“Is that right?” the girl said with a smile—a devilish smile—and went right back to work.

Once upon a time, Ben would have dropped it and continued walking down the path alongside the flowers. But he couldn’t do that anymore, not when the place he was supposed to spend his afterlife in couldn’t offer him the things he longed for the most in the world.

“You don’t understand,” Ben said, and the girl huffed. “I have to go back. My family, they—”

“Your family didn’t even know you were there,” the girl said. Ben shivered and bit his lip, but let her finish anyway. “But of course you already know that.” She ran her fingers through the flowers’ petals, before finally settling on one and pulling it from its stem. “You aren’t the first to beg for a way out, and you certainly won’t be the last. I do understand. I have to, to run this place smoothly. I can’t just pick and choose.”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing,” Ben said, his eyes still pinned on the flower in her hand. “You pick and choose. You play favorites.”

“Not all souls are corrupted, Number Six.” Ben sighed at the use of his number, but it didn’t stop him from feeling helpless. “But I can’t let them mix with those who are.”

Ben’s mind traveled back to the girl and her flowers; picking and choosing, sorting through them, moving them… Not all flowers needed light to grow.

“Want to know which one you are?” the girl said, a teasing tone in her voice.

Ben hated that he couldn’t say no to her.

The girl moved to her bike with a bounce, letting her flowers drop in the basket, and gestured for him to follow her.

They walked through the gardens for a while. As much as Ben wanted to leave this place, he’d always enjoyed looking at the flowers. They didn’t need words to express themselves—just shapes and colors, in a black and white world. And yet, Ben always knew what color they were.

They stopped in front of some bushes, tiny things, and the girl leaned down to pick up a blossom. Her moves were always so calculated, but now she was letting the flower and its white petals rest on her palm almost lazily.

The smell hit Ben like a hurricane.

The small flower smelled of lousy evenings and teasing, of quiet nights looking at the stars. It smelled like stroking a string of memories that hadn’t been touched in years, of something distant yet so familiar. Of laughter, of coziness, of bittersweetness. It smelled of home.

“A gardenia?” Ben asked.

The girl nodded. “That’s the bush I picked you from,” she said, stroking the blossom’s petals. “Of course, you’re here now, so your flower doesn’t exist anymore.” Without missing a heartbeat, she crumpled the flower with a swift movement, and let it fall to the ground.

Ben felt a knot tighten in his chest.

“Why would you do that?”

He’d never understand how God, or whoever she was, could be such a prick.

“You care,” she said, crossing her arms behind her back.

Ben stared in awe at the crumpled flower, then back at her. He wanted to prove her wrong so badly, to stand still, or to walk away, and yet he couldn’t help but lean down and pick up the gardenia. Its petals felt soft, too soft, against his touch, at least those of them who were still holding onto the flower.

“It’s too late for it now,” she said. “It’s just a blossom, ripped from its home. It doesn’t have a stem to plant.”

Ben kept stroking the flower’s leaves, trying to ignore her words. She was wrong. The flower was right there, it was still alive, emitting its bittersweet smell, calling for its home.

“That doesn’t make it useless,” she continued. “It can be used as a fertilizer, to help the other flowers grow. But it will die out, eventually. After all, it’s been corrupted now—”

“Klaus isn’t corrupted,” Ben interrupted. The words came out of his mouth without him processing them. It was only when he heard his own raised voice that he realised what he had said. He hadn’t meant to say it, but it was too late now. “My family isn’t corrupted.”

A smile tugged at the girl’s lips. “Now, I never mentioned him, did I?”

Ben wanted to look away, but everything else around him consisted of flowers, and flowers reminded him of the blossom in his hand, and the way the girl had ended its life as if it was nothing, and if that wasn’t enough, he could still smell it and—

“I keep wondering why you want to go back. What was it he called you?” she asked, looking up, pretending to be in deep thought. “His ‘ghost bitch?’” Ben closed his eyes. “I never liked him, you know. But he must have told you that, I don’t think he likes me very much either. I suppose that’s fair. I wouldn’t like someone who kept choosing other people over me either—”

“He’s not—it’s not like that,” Ben said, but it was. It was like that, because Klaus had acted like a massive asshole by ignoring Ben’s existence and pretending he wasn’t there, by keeping him from his family who he had missed so much, and Ben didn’t deserve that, he knew it, but it didn’t matter, because Klaus needed him. Ben needed him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, locking them with the girl’s. “I never crossed your damn light.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “You’re here now, and you need it.”

“Gardenias can grow in the shade,” Ben said.

“But those who never see the sun grow weak,” she said.

“I’ve never forgotten what the sun is like.” And he hadn’t. Ben was dead, detached from the world, but Klaus offered him a way out. He gave him oxygen, he let him breathe, he let him live.

The girl huffed. “You could thrive!” she said. “Inside these gardens, you don’t need to suffer anymore. You don’t need to hold onto a world that hurt you, that killed you. You could have everything you wanted here!”

“No.” Ben shook his head. “I couldn’t.”

The girl looked at him for a few lingering moments before turning around and leaning over the bushes again. Ben felt his body tense up in defense, his hand clenching around the dead flower in his hand. He wasn’t going to let her harm them. Not anymore.

“Hand it over,” she said, and Ben took a step back. She sighed. “I just want to put it to rest.”

Ben glanced on the ground in front of her, where she had dug some soil out of the way; a perfect fit for the blossom in his hand. Part of him wanted to tell her no, but the way she said it sounded… genuine.

Ben nodded and dropped on his knees. He glanced at the girl one more time as she gave him a nod back and he placed the gardenia on the hole. He run his fingers through its petals one more time, before gently covering the hole with the dirt on the side. For a split second, he was back on earth, lying on the ground, taking in the texture of it for the first time in almost two decades. He was snapped out of his thoughts when the girl gave the soil a gentle pat.

“They put gardenias around my grave.”

Ben had no idea why he said that.

“I know,” she said. Any hint of hostility had long disappeared from her voice. “I know everything.” She crossed her legs and made herself more comfortable, wiping her hands on her white dress and staining it, before taking off her hat and letting it rest on her lap. “And yet, I was wrong.”

Ben raised an eyebrow at that. He supposed he could sit down for a little bit longer, so he rested on his thigh, not caring about the dirt. He hadn’t minded dirt getting on his clothes in a long long time. “Wrong?”

“Yes,” she said, pressing her lips into a seemingly forced smile. “You are way more stubborn than your brother.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know.”

Ben shifted so he was sitting down normally, his legs folded and forming the tiniest triangle between them and the ground. He leaned back, his weight supported by his hands placed behind his body, and looked up at the sky, so he could see the light.

Deep down, he knew it hadn’t been possible. Not everyone got the happy ending of their dreams, and Ben certainly didn’t deserve it. After all, his story—his life on earth, his family, Klaus—had ended seventeen years ago. You can’t turn back the pages on a book that doesn’t have any. You can’t leave a garden with no exit. And you certainly can’t bloom as a flower where there isn’t any light. This was meant to happen. All Ben had left to do was accept it.

He felt a bump on his shoulder, causing him to snap his eyes open. He hadn’t even realised he’d close them, until the figure of the little girl staring down at him came into view. She extended her arm for him, and Ben took it without any more questions.

Once on his feet, she spoke again. “Come on.”

“Why, is it curfew already?” Ben joked.

The girl rolled her eyes but didn’t let go of Ben’s hand. Instead, she started pulling him through the gardens again. “I said, come on.”

“Hold on,” Ben said, but she didn’t seem to be listening. “Hey, I said hold on, can you just—” He freed his hand from her grip, and it was only then that she stopped walking. “Where are we going?”

She sighed, a hint of annoyance manifesting in her voice again, but it wasn’t rude like before. “Home, Ben,” she said. “We’re getting you home.”

Ben stared at her in disbelief.

“H-Home?” he said and she nodded. No. There was no way. “Home as in, home home?” She nodded again. “With my family?”

“Yes, Ben!” she said, and no matter how angry she sounded, Ben couldn’t shake the grin off his face. “With your dumb family!”

He covered his face with his hands, another chuckle escaping him. For a guy that was literally about to cry in front of God, he was feeling quite well. Spectacular, actually. He took a step closer to her, taking her hand between his. “Thank you, thank you so much, you have no idea—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… You’re welcome, and all of that, now come on,” she said. When Ben let go of her hand, she adjusted her hat and continued walking down the path with bouncy steps. She stopped, suddenly, turning around to look at Ben again. “I said come on, before I change my mind.”

“Right! Right.” Ben nodded to himself. He was going to see his family, he was going to see Klaus, he was going home where he belonged. Ben took one final breath and stopped fighting the grin threatening to take over his face. “I’m ready.”

The girl smiled. “I know.”

The first time Ben crossed the light, it was to get out of it.

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haberdashing · 4 years

Text

Unraveling All The Mystery

TMA mental time travel AU; Jon gives the rest of the original archives crew an explanation for his erratic behavior. Inspired by this post and this fic of it.

on AO3

“Jon...”

“...this is an intervention.”

Jon couldn’t help but burst into laughter when he heard those words.

He’d known something was up when all three archival assistants had joined him at once in his office early that morning, had half-suspected that they were going to ask in unison about how he had been acting different ever since he had the memories of his future self (well, of his no-longer-future self, hopefully) dumped into his head, but that phrasing...

It reminded Jon of an entirely different “intervention” directed his way, and while he knew he needed to take this situation seriously, it was still a far sight for being confronted for stalking his coworkers and accusing them of murder.

(To be fair, two of the four people he’d seen as murder suspects at the time had in fact killed someone, but Jon knew well enough that that didn’t entirely excuse his actions.)

Martin’s brows furled together in that way Jon had always secretly found adorable as he asked, “What’s so funny?”

Jon tried his best to school his expression back into something approximating neutral before he replied. “It’s... it’s a long story.” Technically true, that, though he knew it wouldn’t get him far to say that alone, knew he wasn’t the only one here hungry for answers (at least metaphorically speaking). “Never mind that. What is this... ‘intervention’ regarding?”

Sasha, Martin, and Tim all exchanged a look that Jon couldn’t quite decipher for a silent moment before Sasha spoke up.

“All three of us have noticed that you haven’t been acting like yourself lately.”

And of course it was Sasha telling him this. Sasha who he had two sets of memories of now, one of the real her and one of a being that had taken her place, the two already starting to blur together in his mind when he wasn’t face to face with the real thing.

Jon knew that her point was a fair one, but he still wanted to know more, wanted to know what exactly had changed, what had revealed to the rest of the world his internal change, wanted to know if it was something Jonah Magnus might have already noticed, so he raised an eyebrow and asked, “How so?”

Tim blurted out “weird” right as Martin blurted out “nice,” with Sasha waiting a beat before adding, “Weirdly nice.”

“...fair enough.” Jon could feel a smile sneaking back onto his face as he spoke. “I do know what you’re referring to there, and I, I do want to explain it all to you, but... do you mind if we take this conversation- er, this ‘intervention’ elsewhere?”

“...this is your office.”

“Exactly. Hardly neutral ground, is it?” Especially with Jonah Magnus doubtlessly watching their every move from his office, but Jon wasn’t very well going to mention that bit... “How about we go to that ice cream parlor we went to for Martin’s birthday? My treat.”

Sasha eyed Jon warily. “I had breakfast two hours ago.”

“Are you really going to turn down an offer of free ice cream and answers because of that?”

The three assistants exchanged a few pointed glances and slight shrugs before Tim said with a wide grin that may or may not have been entirely genuine, “You had me at ‘free ice cream.’”

“Glad to hear it.”

Jon got up and grabbed his bag, but before he could finish leading the way out of the Archives, a thought occurred to him. “Somebody bring a digital recording device with--laptop, phone, whatever, just so long as it’s digital. This won’t be a statement per se, but talking about it all will probably mess up the recordings as badly as the real statements do, and maybe that’ll help prove that this truly is the supernatural at work.”

There was a brief silence for a moment before Martin asked, “Jon, what d’you mean by real statements?”

“You know what I mean.” Jon sighed softly. “The ones with something solid to them, the ones you can’t easily rationalize away... not that I haven’t tried. They never record digitally.”

“I’ll go get a camera then.” Sasha darted away, and as she did, Jon could practically feel Martin and Tim’s gazes boring into him.

“So you do know there’s a difference.” Tim said.

“I didn’t think you believed any of them!” Martin added.

Jon sighed again. “I’ve... I’ve always believed in the supernatural. Well, perhaps not always, but for decades now, long before I got hired by the Institute. That’s why I wanted to work here in the first place. The skeptic act was always just that. An act, because it felt safer than the alternative.”

The awkward silence that followed was broken only by Sasha returning triumphantly, camera in hand. “Got it!”

“Great, let’s go.”

For a moment or two, as Jon’s feet obediently traced their way towards the ice cream parlor despite part of his brain insisting that it’d been years since he’d been to the place, Jon thought that was that.

Then Martin spoke up, his voice tentative but clear. “Care to share why you started believing in the supernatural, then?”

“Not particularly.” Jon paused, considered his options a bit more. He needed to be open with them, to trust them, he knew that, but... but that didn’t make talking about supernatural childhood trauma any easier. “Let’s just say it has to do with my distaste for both Leitners and spiders and leave it at that.”

Martin scrunched up his nose, and Jon’s heart ached at the sight of it. “Fair enough.”

The ice cream parlor wasn’t terribly busy this time of day, which was probably for the best, as Jon figured the less chance of being overheard, the better. After a bit of teasing and decision-making, Jon paid for the order as he’d promised, with both him and his assistants getting one scoop of ice cream each (though Tim had jokingly threatened to buy a scoop of every flavor the place had to offer just because Jon would have to foot the bill).

“What’s with you and rum and raisin ice cream, anyway?”

Jon glared at Tim. Tim glared back.

“What do you mean? It’s good.”

“If you’re eighty years old and have no taste buds left, maybe. Seriously, if you made an objective ranking of ice cream flavors-”

“That’s literally impossible, Tim, everybody has different preferences-”

Tim raised his voice a bit as he spoke over Jon. “Then you know that in dead last would be-”

“Anything with marshmallows in it?”

Martin looked up from his scoop of rocky road, pointing his spoon at Jon accusingly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Jon couldn’t quite look Martin in the eye as he continued, so he focused his gaze on Tim instead. “The texture is all wrong for mixing with ice cream, they’re disgustingly sweet, and do you know what marshmallows are made out of? Because I don’t consider that appetizing, especially in a dessert context.”

Martin scrunched up his face again. “...I try not to think about it.”

“So we’ve established that Jon’s taste in ice cream is just wrong in general, I see.” Sasha chimed in.

“Exactly! We weren’t discussing Martin’s taste in ice cream here-” Tim started to gesture wildly with his own spoon, flecks of moose tracks coming perilously close to falling off as he flailed it around. “We’re discussing Jon’s, and specifically how horrible it is.”

“Technically, we didn’t come here to discuss anybody’s taste in ice cream.”

“Said like a man who still hasn’t explained what the deal is with him and rum and raisin.”

Jon weighed the pros and cons of trying to change the subject more forcefully versus just flat-out telling the truth before settling on the latter.

“My grandmother used to buy it for me as a treat. We’d sit side by side on the couch and share a pint as we watched nature documentaries on the telly. It was as close to a family tradition as we had, I suppose.”

“Oh.” Tim’s gaze softened a bit. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”

“So it’s not because you’re eighty and have no taste buds, it’s because your grandmother was?” Sasha added.

“Hey!”

Sasha stuck out her tongue, turned bright pink from the strawberry ice cream she was eating, her expression clearly unapologetic.

“Can we talk about what we’re actually here to talk about now?”

Jon’s voice came out a little louder than he had intended, and his near-shouting seemed to shut down the friendly banter that had been surrounding him in one fell swoop. Sasha closed her mouth, a few awkward glances were exchanged (none of which were directed at Jon himself), and silence fell.

“...sure thing, Jon. Go right ahead.” Martin eventually replied.

“Start the camera, please?”

Sasha futzed with the camera for a few seconds before nodding and shooting Jon a thumbs-up. Before Jon could speak up, though, Tim beat him to the punch.

“Statement of Joe Spooky, regarding-”

Jon pressed one hand against his temple, though he was struggling to hold back a laugh as he did so. “I told you, Tim, this isn’t a statement. Not a proper one, anyway. We’re damn well not going to be filing it away in the archives, at least.”

Even with his hand half-covering his eyes, Jon could see Tim’s raised eyebrow and amused expression clearly enough. “Not even going to mention the Joe Spooky bit?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, no.” Though Jon couldn’t help but think of the other time Tim had grabbed a recording device and made a joke about the statement of Joe Spooky... but that was why he had to explain all of this, so that they could work together, so that they could prevent Prentiss’ attack on the Archives and all the horrible things that had followed it the first time around.

“Smart man, knows better than to quibble with some quality wordplay.”

“That’s not wordplay, Tim.” Sasha interjected. “That’s not even a pun, just a first name and the word ‘spooky.’”

“Like I said, quality wordplay right there.”

“Please let me actually talk about this?”

Once again, as Jon spoke up, the others went eerily silent. Jon set his hands on the table as he weighed his next words.

“So, do you want to hear my explanation first, or the proof I have to back it up?”

Tim spoke up first. “Proof first. Given how much you’re building this up, I doubt I’ll believe any of it before you’ve given me a reason to believe this isn’t just some elaborate prank.”

“Usually you’d be the one pranking me, not the other way around. I’m not exactly the pranking type.”

Tim shrugged slightly. “Well, maybe you’ve finally snapped, decided to get your revenge by launching a prank for the ages.”

Jon thought about disputing the idea that he would ever prank one of his assistants, let alone Tim--Tim who he knew from back in Research, Tim who was his friend, Tim who probably knew him better than anyone in the Institute (Jonah Magnus notwithstanding)--but decided against it. “Fine, so that’s one vote for proof first. Anyone else?”

Martin raised his hand before speaking, as if he were still back in primary school, and Jon knew that there had been a time not that long ago when he would have made that very comparison in an attempt to dismiss Martin, in an attempt to prove that at least he was more mature and competent than one of his coworkers. But that time had come and gone now, and Jon was just grateful that Martin was willing to take turns rather than everybody trying to speak over everybody else all at once. “Er, I’d rather have the story first, personally. Hard to establish proof if we don’t know what’s being proven to begin with.”

“Alright, well, that leaves you with the deciding vote, Sasha.” Jon pointed at Sasha, using his finger rather than his spoon for the gesture.

Sasha shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth right as Jon pointed her way, dramatically drawing out her consumption of it before finally swallowing and saying with a mouth still tinged bright pink, “I say proof first. Between working in Artefact Storage and in the Archives, I’ve heard more than my fair share of horror stories; I’d like to know we can trust you, trust that you’re not some creepy doppelganger or something, before we get to the meat of whatever this is.”

Jon nodded. “Very well. Proof first it is.” Jon drummed his fingers on the table for a moment as he thought. “I can’t directly prove what’s happened since there’s no physical evidence, but I can prove that I know things about each of you that you haven’t told me, things that I have no way of knowing unless something supernatural is going on.”

“Go for it, boss.”

“Tim, I... god, there’s no easy way to say this, is there... I know what happened to Danny.”

Tim’s whole body tensed up at the mention of Danny’s name, and he glanced over at Sasha briefly, the two evidently having a silent conversation through facial expressions and minute gestures. Once, Jon would have been able to Know what it was they were saying, Know the meaning of each wink of the eye or tilt of the head, but now he could only make a few educated guesses.

“I know the whole story about your trip to Covent Garden Theatre, and your run-in with Joseph Grimaldi there. I know you want revenge on the circus more than anything in the world, even your own life. I’ll make sure you get that revenge, that the circus is destroyed, though hopefully this time you won’t be lost in the process. And I’m... I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim blinked rapidly a few times, shifting his gaze from Sasha to Jon. His spoon fell from his hand into his cup of ice cream, though he didn’t seem to notice it, even when a few flecks of mostly-melted ice cream fell onto his shirt. “...shit.”

“Wait, you know about that?” Sasha said, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“I do now. Due to... well, I’ll tell you the story, but I don’t think I’m quite finished with the proof bit yet.”

“Right. Well, keep at it, I suppose.”

“Of course. Sasha...” Jon reached out to grab his own hair, but ended up with more empty air than actual strands of hair in his grasp. How had his hair ever been this short? “I wish I knew more about you, the, the real you. Besides arguing about how to pronounce calliope-”

“Cal-ee-OH-pee.” Sasha corrected, a weak grin on her face.

“Ca-LIE-oh-pee-” Jon returned Sasha’s grin with one of his own, one that he wasn’t sure he could stifle even if he tried. “And your distaste for Artefact Storage, though that apparently won’t stop you from going there in an emergency... Terrible idea, by the way. Don’t go in Artefact Storage, and especially don’t go check out that web table alone.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Sasha shivered exaggeratedly at the thought.

“But I, I do know, actually, that you and Tim have talked about how you’re more qualified to be head archivist than I am, that you should’ve been the one to get the position instead of me.”

This time, Sasha was the one to start the silent conversation between her and Tim.

“And honestly? You’re absolutely right. I came across a tape Gertrude left for her successor--far too late for it to help me directly--and she made it very clear that she expected that successor to be you, Sasha.”

Sasha stopped her silent conversation with Tim to stare at Jon. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And based on what I now know, it’s entirely possible Elias chose me in part because you really would have been better at this job than I am.” Jon punctuated the statement with a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Why would Elias do that, though?” Martin asked.

“That ties in to the bigger picture stuff a fair bit, but suffice it to say that when Elias was looking for an Archivist, he had a lot more in mind for the position than actually taking care of the files in the Archives. There’s a reason Gertrude left it in such disarray, and there’s a reason he has so many inane rules about how to go about organizing what remains.”

“So he’s sabotaging the place?” Tim looked a little less shaken than he had been a moment ago, though he still hadn’t cleaned up the ice cream staining his shirt and was now fiddling absentmindedly with his spoon, half-eaten ice cream forgotten.

“Essentially, yes.”

Tim snorted. “Explains a few things, actually.”

Martin raised his hand again. “D’you have any spooky impossible knowledge about me, then?”

Jon laughed, loud and long. “Martin... the question isn’t whether I know anything about you, the question is where to start.” Jon shook his head, rapping his spoon against his cup as he considered what to say next.

“I know... I know you lied on your CV to get in here, that you don’t even have a degree, let alone the Master’s in parapsychology that you claimed to have. I know that you don’t have a middle name, middle initial notwithstanding. I know you’ve got a second tape recorder stashed away in document storage, that you use it to record poetry you wrote, because you think it gives a, a certain lo-fi charm to the recordings...”

“H-hang on a minute!” Martin’s face was red, but Jon didn’t think it was entirely out of embarrassment this time, and Tim and Sasha had their shoulders raised, as if they felt they were being attacked somehow...

“...oh, that sounds bad, doesn’t it? I promise this- this isn’t me calling you out, or, or attacking you, you don’t need to get defensive about all this-”

“Really?” Martin sounded skeptical; Jon couldn’t really blame him.

“For one thing, I couldn’t fire you even if I wanted to. And for another, I absolutely, positively don’t want to. Martin Blackwood, you’re stuck here with us for the long haul.”

“Great.” There was a sharp sarcasm to Martin’s tone, but Jon elected to ignore it.

“I also know that... that you notice a lot more than people think, that you do a lot more than people give you credit for. Including me. Especially me. I’ve taken you for granted... all of you, really, but especially you, Martin. And I’m sorry about that, I really am. I know better now, I swear.”

“...thanks?”

“Don’t mention it. Literally, don’t mention any of this when we’re in the Institute. I don’t want to risk Elias overhearing what I’m going to tell all of you.”

“Elias doesn’t come down to the Archives that much...”

Jon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still don’t talk about it.”

“Fine. Won’t mention it.”

“Good.” Jon took a deep breath and let it out before saying, “Proof?”

A few more glances were exchanged between the three assistants before all three nodded in agreement. “Proof.”

Sasha adjusted her glasses slightly before asking, “So what exactly is it you’re proving to us, then?”

“I, uh.” Well. No use beating around the bush. It was going to sound ridiculous no matter what, but hopefully he’d done enough to establish beforehand that he wasn’t just imagining things or making things up. Hopefully he’d done enough that they wouldn’t dismiss his experience the way he’d dismissed so many others.

“I have memories of the future.”

“You’re talking about time travel?” Sasha says, the bright gleam of her eyes visible even though her glasses.

“Not exactly--I didn’t physically go back in time, just, just mentally, just the memories I shouldn’t have yet.” Jon stared down at his hand, the same hand which he clearly remembered being covered in scars from worms and flames and stabbing, but was now utterly unblemished. “And they’re not... not memories of this future. I mean, I didn’t have this conversation before, it doesn’t work quite like that. I remember a future where I didn’t have these memories to work with--so it’d be some sort of changing or branching timeline, not, not a stable time loop...”

“I see.” Tim’s expression suggested otherwise, suggested that despite what his words might suggest he was caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“I suddenly got these memories overnight not long after Martin...” Jon hesitated, unsure how to delicately phrase the next bit of what he had to say, how to refer to Prentiss’ siege on Martin’s flat without risking upsetting Martin in the process. “...started living in the Archives. So I imagine that’s when I started acting weird, or, or nice, or weirdly nice, or however you want to put it. I don’t know why it happened then, exactly, but maybe it has something to do with me growing into my role as Archivist--late enough that I’m already getting comfortable in the position, but hopefully early enough that I can prevent the worst of it from happening all over again.”

Martin held up his hand, though less in a way reminiscent of a primary schooler and more in a way reminiscent of such a child’s crossing guard telling an oncoming car to stop. “I’m sorry, I was trapped in my flat for almost a fortnight, under siege by, by some sort of flesh worm hive thing--are you honestly saying that’s not ‘the worst of it’?”

Jon laughed and shook his head brusquely. “I wish it were, Martin, but unfortunately that’s just the tip of the iceberg here.”

Sasha tilted her head to one side, some strands of hair falling into her face as she did so. “What’s the iceberg then?”

“Well, there’s a lot of it, as the metaphor rather implies, but I’ll try to keep it short... Prentiss attacks the Institute-”

Martin’s face visibly paled at the mention of Prentiss’ name, and Jon scrambled to reassure him.

“Even in the future I remember she didn’t directly kill anyone, and I’ll make damn sure she doesn’t get a chance to do so this time around, but, well, that is what happened. And when Prentiss attacks, Sasha runs over to Artefact Storage, messes with the web table when nobody else is around, and gets killed and replaced by the monster bound to it.”

Jon started to put one finger out for each major event he lists off, as if keeping a tally, though he has no idea what the final count should be.

“Martin finds Gertrude’s body in the tunnels. I accidentally release the thing that replaced Sasha when I meant to kill it, and it almost kills me in turn. I get framed for murder, get kidnapped three separate times within a few months. Tim stops the circus from completing their ritual, but blows himself up in the process. Martin almost gets lost to the Lonely. I accidentally end the world, try to make it better, can’t make it better, send my memories back right as everything’s entirely going to shit. There’s more to it, but those are the most important events, at any rate.”

At least, they’re the most important events relating to Martin, Sasha, and Tim. No need to tell them about things like Melanie getting shot by ghosts in India, or Daisy getting stuck in the Buried. The big picture is complicated enough as it is.

“...I know you’ve made a few cock-ups in your time, boss, but ending the world is a new one even for you.”

Jon couldn’t bring himself to laugh, or even to meet Tim’s eyes, instead staring down at the sad dregs of his ice cream, long since melted. “It’s really not funny. Billions of people--just about everybody in the world--were suffering, stuck in a seemingly-endless torment, and it was all my fault.”

Martin bit his lip anxiously for a moment before speaking up. “I’m sure it wasn’t all your fault.”

Martin’s words brought a slight smile to Jon’s face, but he still shook his head in response. “It was. Trust me, Martin, it really was my doing. We had this argument enough after it actually happened... rather than discuss that further, I’d rather focus on preventing it this time around.”

“Do you have an actual plan for making sure the world doesn’t end for us, then?”

Jon looked up, looking into Sasha’s dark eyes, before breaking into laughter and grinning.

“What exactly do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

#tma #tma au #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing

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fandomrecycling · 3 years

Text

Pax and her Potions: Prt 3/3

Part 1 & Part 2 @anxiousworm @vlanderzine yeet this is kinda long and I don’t regret it

Pax clung to the unburnt material of her cloak and tried her best to mute her crying. The pain hadn’t dulled and the smell was festering in the tight space she was buried under. Pushing herself up as much as she could, she listened for the whining-wail of the ghast that nearly blew her up.

Digging herself out with shaking hands, she coughed and spat out a mix of spit and coagulated ashes. Gingerly probing her back as she walked, Pax traced the edges of her burn. It was big, about the size of both her hands, spreading the width of her right shoulder blade. She did her best to hide the injury and make it look like there wasn’t a charred hole in her clothes.

Climbing back up the netherrack mountains and avoiding the piglin patrols ached. The sudden awareness of time also started chewing away at her.

Space in the Nether was a screwy concept Pax had only the barest idea of how it worked. Time was another factor entirely. She berated herself all the while as she backtracked to her tunnel, silently regretting ever choosing to jump into this hell as literally as possible.

Shuffling her hands around her midsection, her fingers bumped into the nether wart. Her train of self-loathing paused for a moment as she rubbed against the smooth texture of the forgien plant. Out of impulse, Pax tore off a bit and popped it into her mouth.

The flavour was surprisingly not terrible. It was some mix of sour-spicy and juicer than she expected from a plant that grew around lava pits and fire monsters. Even the aftertaste was tolerable. Pax wasn’t sure if that meant she was weird, or something else.

Finally coming upon her tunnel, she began her climb down and was filled with relief at the thought of being able to go to bed. Then, after hearing the sound of pickaxes beneath her, another moment of self realization hit her.

She’d thought of a way through the portal, but she hadn’t considered a way out. Thinking harder about it, the guards would be stationed by the portal and she didn’t know their shifts. So if she did go through, there’d be no easy way to escape.

“Fuck,” She hissed. She wanted to scream so badly, the urge clogged her throat.

Pax beat her frustration into the ground, punching and crumbling the sandy red stone under her fist. More bruises would form and some small, logical part of her said getting more injuries wouldn’t help. She ignored it until she worried that a knuckle would split.

Dropping her head between her legs, she sat at the mouth of her makeshift tunnel and tried to consider her options. Staying in the Nether was not viable and going home would mean facing her parents and whatever reaction they’d have to her. Pax laughed to herself, pushing up her sweaty hair and started to climb back down the tunnel.

The other miners in the main tunnel didn’t notice her - she pulled up her hood to keep them from recognizing her too - and most were solely focused on mining the quartz used to build the redstone components the engineers relied so heavily on.

That sparked the inkling of an idea. As Pax made her way back to the portal, she found a small vein and chipped away at some small fragments. Her pockets were stuffed to the brim but she managed to make room.

Shuffling down to the hub, a steady stream of workers and guards made their way through from the overworld portal. Most didn’t look too dissimilar from her, with ashy pants and faces from their time in this dimension. She kept her pickaxe hanging by her side to try and look like one of them as she shuffled through the crowd.

The sunlight was harsher than she expected on her eyes. Bringing up one hand to block her face, Pax realized with a startling fear that the sun was up.

“Hey, you there!” One of the guards called out. “Don’t move!”

Pax didn’t - running would’ve been futile - but still flinched when they turned to look at her face.

“Have you seen - Miss Valora?” He startled. “You - you’re here? Your parents are worried sick, come, I’ll call for an escort to your residence.”

“Sure.”

The march back felt more like a funeral procession to the wannabe alchemist. People pointed at her as she walked, Pax could imagine all the terrible rumors that would spill from this incident. No doubt her parents reputation would drop and any she had left would crumble to dust.

Cynicism drenched her mind as they came upon the street her house was built on. It wasn’t as if she cared what people thought of her and it wasn’t like they cared about her. Pax made a bet with herself on whether or not she’d be yelled at for leaving her room or causing a disturbance first.

“Miss Valora! Where were you! We had the entire city searching for you, this sort of teenage rebellion is idiotic. You’ve made yourself look like a fool!”

Flinching at the sound of her mother crying out, Pax shuffled into the doorway and kept at arm's length from both parents.

“Couldn’t find the materials for the farm. So I just went out and got ‘em.” She lied.

“Well why didn’t you just go into the markets? Why did you have to go into the Nether! You aren’t allowed to be by yourself in such a dangerous place at all!”

Pax rolled her eyes. “I probably shouldn’t be up till sunrise working on machines that aren’t broken, but we don’t always get what we want.”

“That was for you to learn! We both explained everything and you didn’t listen. Do you want us to yell at you?”

“Sure,” Pax forced her voice neutral. Her lip still twitched, “I’m gonna go change.”

She didn’t run up the stairs, but she could tell her parents were still behind her and intending on lecturing her. Pulling the door open and hastily throwing it shut, she frantically searched her room for something to barricade her door. A flash of impulse told her to just jump out the window and make a break for it.

Finally, when she heard her parents' footsteps pause by her bedroom and finally descend down the stairs, Pax collapsed to her knees and tore off her burned clothes.

“Didn’t even realize it,” she laughed with bitter satisfaction, “you didn’t even fucking notice. And they call me the idiot.”

Grabbing a spare water bottle to try and wash down the ashy taste in her mouth, Pax grabbed a small pair of shears and began cutting away the ruined cloak to make bandages. She cleaned off the wound as long as she could tolerate and finished wrapping her back.

Sorting through the resources she gathered, she tossed aside the quartz and dumped all of her new ingredients onto her desk.

The orange-slime thing the piglin gave her looked exciting, so Pax began with that. Under the morning light, she ran through all the steps of preparing the brewing stand before finally adding the nether wart. Watching it filter into the water filled her with the same mix of dread and glee exploring the Nether gave her.

Once it was finally gone, Pax was surprised to see that the water didn’t look that changed. There was a very, very slight, opaqueness to the liquid and the sense that something was different. Pax decided to trust her intuition.

Gathering a clump of the orange slime, the amature alchemist sucked in a breath and poured it into the brewing stand.

“Please work, please, please, please work for me just this once,” She begged, “don’t let this be a waste.”

It felt like hours were ticking by as she watched the water bubble in the glass bottles. Her fingers picked at her arms, nearly breaking skin from anxiety that crawled across her body.

She hardly believed it when the water turned a shimmering, rich amber.

“No way,” Pax’s eyes lit up.

Gingerly, she pulled the glass bottle free. The liquid was glowing, there was no mistaking it. Clapping one hand over her mouth, Pax could feel more tears running down her cheeks. Happy hiccuping noises filled her throat and she had to stop herself from dancing around her bedroom.

She didn’t even hesitate to swallow the entire contents. The spice was unexpected and the flavor burned deliciously down her throat. Pax relished in the sudden pulse of warmth through her body and the tingle of magic running through her veins. There was an effect, now it was just a matter of figuring out what.

That could come later, she jotted down that combination in her notebook and switched in a new bottle.

Pax blended together all the ingredients she could find; golden carrots, leaves, redstone, sugar, gold nuggets, anything and everything she could find stashed away in her room.

The orange potion, she realized, was a form of fire immunity when she ran into a torch and it didn’t leave a burn. The silvery-blue mix left her feeling hyper and charged with energy. When she mixed up her ingredients with extra blaze powder for the brewing stand, the mix left her feeling like she could fist fight a zombie horde and win. The one she accidentally dropped a golden carrot into cleared her vision and allowed her to see perfectly in the dim evening light.

It was only when Pax had ran out of clean bottles and all but the night vision had worn off did she relax against her bed.

“I actually did it,” she said to herself, “I actually did it. This worked, I did this. I did this.”

An immense feeling of pride rose in her. Then, after a pause, anger.

“Call me stupid now,” Pax scoffed.

She broke out into laughter bordering on hysterics. Her vision was sharpened beyond any normal senses, her thin muscles ripped with adrenaline and her entire body was immune to fire. No machine could accomplish this, no set of redstone and repeaters could grant this kind of power.

This was a lost innovation she’d rediscovered all on her own. Pax wondered what her parents would say about it.

Pax considered it. She’d done research, kept notes, and did all the things engineers did. Just with magic instead of redstone. And there could be practical uses for this; keeping miners in the Nether safe, helping people working in the low light mob farms, all manner of things.

The idea of being able to help others, combined with the hope of making her parents proud made for a compelling argument. But just to be safe, Pax hid away her brewing stand ard her notes, taking one of her fire resistance potions down with her as proof.

She’d ignored the call to dinner, but now she climbed down the stairs with her heart pounding against her chest. The table was silent, but the sounds of utensils on plates paused when she came down.

“So, there’s something I’ve been working on.” Pax muttered.

“I couldn’t hear that,” Her mother snipped.

“Speak up,” Her father ordered, “you know you shouldn’t mumble.”

Breathing out, she nodded, “I was working on a project in my free time. I finally had a breakthrough… and… I dunno, I thought you would want to know.”

Her hands were shaking as she pulled out the bottle and set it on the table. Both her parents stared at it, expressions unreadable.

“I-it’s a fire resistance potion. Like the ones from the stories, but it works I swear,” She started to ramble, “I took one and I fell into a torch but it didn’t burn me and I think if you fell in lava like in the cobblestone generators it’d be helpful to those working in them and prevent injuries and - “

Her mother pushed herself out of her chair and glared down at her, “This is what you’ve been doing? Is this why you tried to sneak out last night?”

“Y-yes but I promise it’ll be important. I can make more and I can - “

“This is what you’ve been wasting your time on?”

Glass shattered as Pax watched the bottle shatter across the floor.

“You idiot! You have so many opportunities and you’re wasting all of them! Me and your father have given you every chance to learn and you refuse every time! It’s like you want us to be mad at you, is that it?”

“It’s not!” Pax sobbed, “I don’t want this! I don’t want you to be mad at me! Do you seriously think I want this?”

“Then why don’t you listen to your mother?” Her father added, arms crossed with vague disappointment.

“I do! I swear I was really trying. I wasn’t being lazy!”

“Then why aren’t you better? If you really want to be better, then why aren’t you working to be better?” Her mother yelled back.

“Well maybe I’m just a fucking idiot then!”

Pax sprinted back up to her room. This time, she shoved her entire bed against the door. Eyes blurry, she ran to grab all her belongings and stuffed them into a bag and her pockets. Outside, it began to rain.

The wall she’d broken the night before was still loose.

She threw herself into the branches of the nearby tree, then downed one of her swiftness potions and made a break for the gates.

Guards stationed by the entrance noticed her approach. Pax barreled past then, throwing off their arms as she pushed towards the wilderness. Her vision was still saturated, and along with her tears, it gave everything she saw a blurry, dream like quality.

She couldn’t remember how long she ran for. When her legs finally started to cramp and the cold started seeping through her clothes.

Gasping for air and whipping her dripping nose, Pax looked up to her surroundings. Through the trees, she could see stars in the deep navy sky. Her vision flickered and everything went dark for a perilous moment.

She was cold, terrified and exhausted. The alchemist robotically ordered herself to find shelter and she started wandering deeper into the woods.

There wasn’t much that looked like shelter. But ‘shelter’ to Pax always looked like four walls and a roof. Before her potion effects faded, she spotted an entrance to a small tunnel and the faint light of a torch.

She nearly slipped on the stone as she made her way down. Oddly, Pax noticed that the torch was made from redstone. Shrugging off her wet cloak, she couldn’t find the energy to care about that anomaly.

Resting her shoulder against the perfectly smooth - were they supposed to be smooth? - walls of the cave, Pax rolled one of her potions between her fingers and listened to the patter of rain.

#minecraft #minecraft oc #mcoc trio #man I got invested in this #pax honey you don’t deserve this at all

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