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yuniemaki · 1 year

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Ch19: One last game // Read on ao3 Series: Genshin Impact Words: 90k+ Rating: M Pairing: Beidou x Ningguang mafia/triads AU

Summary: When have things ever gone according to plan?

Sneak peek:

When Ningguang turned 21, her parents did not throw her a coming-of-age party. Instead, they brought her out of the Jade Chamber for the first time in three years. She was blindfolded in a limousine and brought to a warehouse, the name of which Ningguang never learned. Shipping crates and boxes were stacked sky-high to form a labyrinth within the space. She lost count of the number of turns she'd had to make, though she recalled passing a cabinet of hammers and a shelf of rifles. Finally, her parents stopped, and removed her blindfold. She laid eyes upon a young man around her age, bound to a chair with a plastic bag tied over his head.

The Qixing thugs around him yanked the bag off, and he gasped and sputtered for air.

“What did he do?” she demanded, eyeing her parents warily.

“Killed a brother,” her father replied, “He has broken our oaths.”

“Hand,” her mother said.

Ningguang held out her hand, feeling the cold weight of a gun drop onto her palm. She deftly gripped the handle, checking the cartridge. One bullet.

“Kill him,” her father ordered.

She stepped forward, years of isolation and training leaving her numb. She pressed the muzzle against the man’s forehead, noting how it slid across his skin, damp with sweat. She too, had shivered and shook staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. But unlike him, she would ensure her parents never found out.

Before she could pull the trigger, Ningguang made the mistake of looking into his eyes.

Brown, almond-shaped eyes, wide with terror; his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water; his pupils darting nervously from side to side. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead into his eyes, and he squeezed them shut. “M–mama,” he whimpered, “I–I’m scared—”

Of course you are. She pressed the gun harder against his forehead, watching more tears spill from his eyes. The visage of utter horror on his face, the ghostly pallor of his skin — it reminded her of Beidou, the way that spark in her ruby eye died when she spoke of how her parents passed away.

They died like this, shot in the head, innocent bystanders in a meeting between Wangshu and the Qixing that quickly turned ugly on her parents’ orders. They'd told her themselves. The game showed no mercy to those who succumbed to pity. But Beidou had been an innocent child, caught in the crossfire. The shotgun bullet had blown through flesh and bone, embedding shards of her father's skull in one eye.

Only once had Beidou ever let her see her scarred eye. A pearlescent white iris, encased in faint hues of red.

“Ningguang.” Her mother’s voice was stern. “You cannot hope to succeed us if you can’t even kill a man.”

She didn’t answer; she stared at him, feeling her hand starting to tremble. What would Beidou think of her, if she took a life? She’d just be another criminal, like the ones who killed her parents in cold blood. This would kill what was left of her heart, the piece of her that still treasured life, the only thing that set her apart from the crime lords she called her parents. Would Beidou ever forgive her?

Would Beidou still love—

Her thoughts screeched to a halt when the barrel of a gun rested on her own skull. She stiffened. “Shoot,” her father breathed in her ear, digging the barrel mercilessly into her hair. She winced, cheeks burning in humiliation as hot tears stung her eyes. “Kill him, or I will kill you, darling.”

Tears fell unbidden as a familiar icy terror calcified in her veins. Her very blood seemed to stop flowing in her body, freezing all the way to her heart. This fear would be here to stay, she knew. Once she committed this sin, it would make its home in her bones; it would devour her until there was nothing left to love. Even so, Ningguang thought, perhaps this was exactly what she needed for fear to consume everything left of her; for fear to become her greatest weapon. If she could conquer this fear — she could conquer even them.

“Ah-Ning,” her father hissed, jabbing the gun violently into her temple. She whimpered. “You’re taking too long.”

“And you’re being too merciful to our daughter, bǎobèi,” her mother said, a hint of tenderness creeping into that deep voice of hers. “Hesitation will kill her long before you do.”

Tenderness she reserved only for her husband, never to her child. All these years they kept her hidden away in a massive prison, learning the art of blackmail, bribery and torture; to be their scapegoat when the inevitable happened. They imparted all their knowledge to her so that she could be the perfect bait, so that she could take the fall when their enemies struck, and none save for the Qixing itself would be any wiser. The day she was finally murdered in their place as the 'Tianquan', they'd start over. She'd be buried six feet under, if not hung from a tower for the world to see.

Ningguang felt a pitcher in her mind tip over, filling her heart with molten rage. Hesitation would kill them long before it killed their only daughter. She would make sure of it. She would play the game and turn all their knowledge against them. After all, Ningguang was taught by the best. She would not lose.

Her brow furrowed in determination; her grip tightened on the handle. No matter who had to die — even if she had to give up everything — she would take their lives with her own hands, as much for Beidou as for herself. She would reign over the underworld that her parents loved more than their child. Ningguang stared at the hapless man quaking beneath her. He was nothing but a pawn; a stepping stone to the future she now saw.

Ningguang poured her love and her dream with Beidou, all the memories that made her smile, into that single bullet sitting in her gun. Her gaze hardened like water freezing into ice.

The safety lock disengaged with a flick of her finger.

I’m sorry, Beidou.

Bang.

#beiguang #beidou x ningguang #beiguang triad au #beiguang fanfic #genshin fic #genshin fanfic #genshin impact fanfic #genshin impact fic #genshin impact #mafia au #beiguang mafia au #slow burn #yuniewrites #fanfiction #genshin fanficion #ao3 fanfic #ao3fic #read on ao3 #ao3 link

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mochiable · 3 years

Text

— wine drops. | chpt. 1

summary: you and Jimin meet each other for the first time.

pairing: viscount!jimin x workingclass!reader

wc: 1.7k

wd.masterlist

> next

The elegance of the baroque was present in the initiation dance. Some dances you had been told about since you were a child. They told you they were sensational, but that you would never get to see them with your own eyes.

Yet there you were, in the dress that your maid, Agnès, had embroidered especially for you. A dress with a square-necked bodice, allowing the precious gold chain hanging from your neck, which carried a ruby in the center, to stand out noticeably. It also consisted of a triangular, v-shaped bib that slightly covered your chest and stomach, adhering to the corset. The jacket was as long as a housecoat, which opened at the front as the dress came to an end, showing a skirt of the same fabric as this one. A skirt that fell freely from your waist, which was adorned with ruffles and ribbons, exaggerating the sophisticated image of the dress. It was all covered with small flowers and abstract navy blue rhinestones that contrasted with the pale beige at the base of the dress.

Something too lush and ostentatious for your taste, but what could you do. The baroque had taken over people’s minds more than a hundred years ago, turning them into pawns of a demanding and selfish lifestyle that rewarded the rich and condemned the poor.

Trust me, you knew it well. You were born into a humble family, with parents who taught you to survive rather than to spend. They always told you to use that intelligent mind that God had given you, so that no one would take advantage of you, obviously referring to them. The aristocracy.

A real poison that had settled in the rich areas of Lyon, where the workers used to live in small wooden shacks with nails. But those nobles threw them out and caused real massacres, and then enslaved other labourers on their land.

The king, together with his secret advisors, believed that, in order to maximize the economy and the most important sources of energy, they had to get rid of a large part of the population. But they didn’t take the nobles, they decided that those who stood in their way were the harmless laborers, who didn’t even have a few crumbs of bread.

That's how you were separated from your parents. You were only eight, but that didn't stop them. They pushed and shoved and spat on them, while they held you by the arms, and then threw them into filthy floats. Finally disappearing from your sight.

You were never going to forget the fear and pain that was reflected in your parents' eyes. All that suffering, that emptiness they left you haunted you even in your dreams, preventing you from sleeping peacefully at night.

That's why you decided to rise in the aristocratic ranks so that you could find those scoundrels who preferred to leave thousands of children orphaned rather than oppose the orders of the king and his presumptuous advisors.

Yes, you were aware that if they did, they would die. But when you found them they would have the same end as if they had avoided all the chaos the aristocracy caused. You were going to avenge the death of your parents and all the children who died because they had no one to shelter them.

That's why you were here today at the inaugural ball of the young women. The debutante ball, a somewhat elitist way of introducing girls to society on their coming of age.

You found yourself talking relatively boringly to the Baron of Honfleur, who had come all the way from the north of France to meet the Gangoiti's daughter. For a long time, he had been telling you about l'église Sainte-Catherine, which he was so passionate about.

“It's a real wonder, Mademoiselle Leduc. The structure resembles a large ship placed upside down, its inconceivable appearance is thanks to the local shipbuilders.”

“It must be undeniably splendid, Baronnie de Honfleur,” you laughed a little at his animated tone of voice.

“Au fait. Who are your parents, fillette? I don't know any Leduc here in Lyon. Are you related to Viscount Leduc there in Bourges?”

You had to admit that the air was stuck in your throat, preventing oxygen from reaching your lungs for a few seconds. You had to try to conceal and articulate one of your much practiced lies so that the baronnie would not discover you.

“Oh no, pas du tout,” you replied, trying to give him your best smile. “Mon parents are on a trip, they went to Austria a few weeks ago. It would be impossible for you to have crossed paths with them, maybe that's why you don't know them.”

“A verre de vin, Mademoiselle?” a tray where four glasses rested on the silver surface appeared in front of your eyes, being held by a bartender who watched you with a beautiful smile drawn on his face.

“Merci beaucoup,” you smiled back at him and took the glass of red wine in my left hand.

“I must go now, Demoiselle,” the Baron said, holding your hand and placing a soft kiss. “It has been a pleasure talking to you”

“Likewise.”

It was at that moment that one of the majordomes called you to the dance floor, where dozens of young people ran to dance with their partners. You slightly furrowed your brow, shaking your head, all they cared about was the dancing and the parties, something that really frustrated you when you thought that there were millions of families without a roof over their heads.

Music, laughter, and dresses flying by. That was all you could see and hear in that huge hall. As the people around it chatted and drank from their wine glasses.

You decided to stop paying attention to the new dance, the passepied. You peeled off the wall and set off to find the person you were looking for, the Countess of Poitiers.

You were walking around absently while you asked the other guests if they had seen the woman you were trying to locate with eagerness. When you turned around after consulting an Ècuyer, you tripped over someone, causing some of the wine that was left in your glass to fall on top of the stranger's clothes and slip out of your hands.

“Oh, mon Dieu!” you exclaimed, reaching for your handkerchief and rubbing it over his shirt. “Forgive me, Monsieur.”

“Don't worry,” he said, taking your hands off his figure. “But I would appreciate it if you would call me Viscount, Mademoiselle. Of course, as I am the son of the Duke and Duchess of Lyon.”

“Of course, Monsieur,” you mumbled a little ashamed. “Viscount!”, you corrected yourself, feeling your cheeks turn red quickly.

“Now, if you don't mind, you may accompany me to the cooking room,” he suggested, trying to get rid of the red stains that had smeared his suit.

“Do you mean la cuisine?”, you asked, wrinkling your nose slightly.

The Viscount looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as he inspected every feature of your body, as well as your virtues and defects. You felt his brown, intense gaze pass through every pore of yours, perceiving how his eyebrows rose and he licked those pink lips he possessed as he examined you.

“Allez,” he muttered, holding your hand.

“What are you doing?”, you hesitated, nailing your feet to the ground to prevent him from dragging you further.

“I said we would go to the kitchen”, he answered.

“You used a conditional”, you said, letting go of his hand. “Forgive my boldness, Viscount, but that didn't sound like an order to me.”

He laughed, looking at you again with those brown eyes, making you tremble, inevitably. “You are right,” he agreed as he brushed his rings against his lips. “Come with me to the kitchen, it’s an order.”

Leaving you speechless and with a dry mouth, he again held your hand, leading you into the kitchen, passing among all the guests and elbowing them, provoking withering glances from them. He made you move quickly as he squeezed your hands tightly. You cursed yourself mentally for not being careful and bumping into him. Right now you would be talking to the Countess de Poiters and not being dragged into a kitchen for no reason by a man you knew nothing about.

“Well,” he muttered as he reached the kitchen and handed you back your stained handkerchief. “Dip it in that bucket”

Without saying anything, to avoid further discussion, you went over to the bucket and wet the tip of the handkerchief as you listened to the sound of clothes being removed. When you’d finished, you turned cautiously with your eyes slightly closed, waiting for the undressed body of a man.

“What are you doing?”, at that moment you opened your eyes wide, finding yourself with a funny but confused smile. Your gaze shifted from his face to his body, and you frowned as you saw him in clothes, still with his shirt on, but without his blazer. Why wasn't he naked? Your cheeks quickly warmed as you realized what you had been thinking. You wanted to laugh at myself, but I held back.

“I...”, you hesitated and looked away. “I've finished wetting my handkerchief.”

“I thought so,” he said, leaning his lower back against the counter which was full of dishes and moldy food. “Approche, approche.”, he insisted gesturing with his right hand.

You decided to obey to him and approached him, clearing your throat almost inaudibly, bringing the handkerchief close to his shirt.

“Désolé, for having soiled your suit.”

“I apologize to you too,” he whispered a few inches from your face.

He was quite tall. He was about four inches taller than you, maybe. But as he had his head a little lowered so that he could watch you delicately clean his spots. Little locks of hair fell down his forehead, tickling your temples.

“I was looking for someone.”

“Moi aussi,” you smiled, although it looked more like a grimace.

“Who are you?”, he asked in a soft voice.

“Je m'appelle y/n,” you replied, finishing rubbing the stains, which were now almost invisible. “I am the daughter of the Leduc. Perhaps you don't know them, they are on a trip,” you explained, leaving the handkerchief on the counter. “How about you?”

“My name is Jimin, Park Jimin.”

please, give some feedback, your opinion is important to me!

a/n: english is not my first language, so if you see any grammatical or spelling mistakes don't hesitate to tell me. any constructive criticism will be always welcome.

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bakubaewritings · 4 years

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God of War

Bakugo x reader

Your up-brining was much unlike others born into nobility, you were taught to read and write along with various battle strategies. Being born into one of the country's most powerful kingdoms, what had begun as a small group of nomadic warriors, became the build of one of the most powerful nations in the country.

Your father had seen many wars in his day, conquer all, defend everything.

Every village, every kingdom worshipped the gods, but every village had its own select God. Ares, the God of war, or as your village knew him, Bakugo. He was a violent and destructive god with an explosive temper.

He was the God of your people, he gave them the strength to defeat any battle. Ares' presence was felt in all the temples made in dedication, his face plastered on murals and statues.

You never understand why such the appeal, the forced ideals of superior of man, and the bloodshed of war never seemed right in your mind. If the choice was, you'd chose to lay your hands into Artemis or Athena.

However, after so many possible suitors came from all over in an attempt to win your heart, all failed. Your father became worried. It seemed after so many failures, no man wanted to wed you.

You had no problem with that, for you couldn't be satisfied with these pigs.

The men looked at you as a prize to be won, not a person to be loved and cherished. They were all power-hungry, bloodthirsty pigs with no respect for women of any, you wanted no part what so ever.

Little did you know someone was watching you. Lusting over you. A being of immense power who became intoxicated by you. But this was no mere mortal, this was the God himself.

After months and months, your father found himself in your village's biggest temple for the hotheaded God himself. It was a gorgeous temple by the base of the river. Massive stone columns framed the circular temple, vines of black flowers grew up from the banks of the river and up the sides of the coulombs.

Every night on his knees, praying that the God of war would finally let you meet a man that could have your hand in marriage. He pleaded that the gods smiled down upon and grant you a husband.

"Please, my God, bless my daughter with the greatest man. I beg you, one that can tame her wild spirit, a strong warrior, someone worthy of her." He pleaded

He prayed the fates would hear his plea.

However, the fates seemed to be against your entire city as a call for help filled the air that night. Your village was being attacked by barbarians from the south. Their numbers in the thousands.

"We are under attack!" The screams filled the air, the sound of men woman and children crying and screaming.

It awoke you form your slumber with a startle, screaming and crying, you were pulled out of bed. Thrown over a firm and robust shoulder, you cried out in confusion.

"My princess, we have to get out. We are under attack."

Your father's face contoured in terror as he witnessed a fire grow, he shouted in anger. Calling for men to prepare for battle against the army of trespassers. That was when ha heavy black smoke pooled around his feet, covering the floor of the temple. A deep chuckle shook the walls.

Turning around slowly, wide fear-filled eyes, he watched the statue of the war god, once cold stone filled with the warmth of life. The gray color became one of a creamy porcelain tone.

"You," his voice was rough and loud, it echoed through the temple.

"My god." Came a shriek of fear. He couldn't bring himself to look upon God's ruby red eyes. His stare was cold.

"Well, are you going to look at me, mortal."

Reluctantly your father lifted his head to look upon God.

"My god, to what I owe the honor." His words were shakey.

"listen to you puny mortal, I will defeat the invaders for you."

"Oh, thank you, my god-" Your father began bowing up and down sprawled upon the marble floors, his eyes clouded with tears of thankfulness.

"For a price." Interrupted the porcelain-skinned God.

"My God, what can I offer you? Anything you wish in my power, I will give you to save the lives of my people."

The gods' lips curled into a devouring smirk, "your daughter."

"Hurry, we must exit the city," the guard carried you in his arm tightly, your arms gripped to his cloak. Following behind, many were of the servants and others that lived in the castle.

"Wait please, where is my father?" You cried, pounding on the back of the guard.

"By the riverbank, my princess, we must evacuate the civilians and escape on the ships while the warriors go to fight back the intruders.."

"My, my daughter?"

"Did I stutter? Look around you mortal, your people are dropping like flies." The God's voice boomed inside the temple, the roar of his voice, causing the ground to shake. "Your daughter hand for your people, one life, for the lives of your whole village."

Your father gulped, he had already lost your mother he was not ready to lose his daughter, "Will no harm come to her?" He asked

With a wide smirk, the God's vermillion eyes shined a magnificent ruby color illuminating the dark temple. "You're in such a position to make demands to a god. But yes. Now, do we have a deal?"

With a heavy heart, your father nodded. If it hadn't been Ares' own temple, anyone would have believed they were speaking to hades. The way Ares carried himself, a bloodthirsty barbarian eager to bring down his enemies.

The God rose from the stone throne, his skin began to glow a dark armor covered by his skin, as black as the night sky. With a heavy swing of his brilliant silver word, he flew into battle. Slaying all the barbarians in his way. They fell to his feet as their blood stained the grounds of the village. One by one, they fell, and their numbers dwindled, no army was a match for the God of war.

"Father!" You ran into the arms of the man who had raised you for your whole life. He kneeled in the broken temple; the ground was cracked and uneven. His skin white as a ghost, "You're alright." The moment you were in his arms, he wrapped around your shoulders tightly, pulling you closer to him. Tears began to fall upon you as your silk gown.

"Father? What's the matter?" You cupped his head gently

"Your majesty, we must evacuate, the ships are filled with civilians." The guard informed your father.

"That won't be needed. We are going to be safe." His voice came out shaky, a painful crooked smile painted his face as his eyes continued to spill tears.

"Father, what is happening?" You questioned, fear beginning to take over.

"I am so sorry, my child." You ripped away from his hold

"Father, what did you do?"

Your head turned slowly to face the unfolding scene. Your eyes widened in complete fear. Behind you, the city was in disarray; civilians poured out from the gates as they ran away from the massacre behind them.

Lighting and thunder pounded into the ground from the heavens as they surrounded him, the armor covered God. His silver sword stained with blood, and the grin on his face. It sent a shivering fear down to your core. Every kill was another climax of pleasure; in battle, he was in his element.

With one last strike, the last few fell to the ground. Finally, the invaders were dead.

Ares' head fell back with a victorious smile covering his face as he completed his mission. But now he'd only claim his promised prize.

His sharp eyes fell upon you. It took in every inch of your figure. Surely, you were no mere mortal, you couldn't be. Aphrodite herself couldn't complete with your beauty. You were perfect, and now you were his. His to claim. He sauntered towards you, his eyes never once left your body. Licking his lips as hi eyes traveled to your frame.

Lewd thoughts filled his head every second. How could a mortal be so extremely arousing?

He stood in front of you, towering over your frame, yes he was a god, and they were much taller than mortals, but he was like a giant, at almost twice your height.

"You'll be coming with me, princess." The terror that took hold of you as those words fell from his lips. His large arm wrapped around your waist tightly, pulling you towards him. You squirmed in his grasp, clawing in an attempt to release from his grip. His blood stains armor painted your colorless gown.

"let me go, let me go." You demanded, your eyes darted to meet your fathers pleading him to please help you.

But he did nothing, instead just watched as a rough, calloused hand cupped your chin.

You came face to face with him, face to face with the God of war himself. Blood-splattered his all over his face, did not hide his rugged good looks. He was an incredibly handsome man, his spiky ash-blonde locks that hung over his eyebrows. His skin was pale, although the moonlight seemed to emulate a glow.

"Let go of me this instant!" You screamed pushing away from, you didn't care one bit that he was a god. He had slaughtered thousands and just expected you to fall into his arms.

"I will do what I wish you are mine." You felt the rumble in his chest as he spoke, "you're father agreed to it himself." The gods' lips curled up into a wide villainous smirk.

"my, my father?" Your stuttered words made him let out a low chuckle. From so long he had watched you from afar, he quite expected some defiance from you. Unlike another woman that would throw themselves at a chance to be claimed by a god, you held your own. Yes, you were afraid, but you still were strong enough to defy him.

Apologies rained from your father's lips, as he attempted to explain. But even in his head, he couldn't figure out how to make sense of what he had done. Given his daughter's life away. However, you understood. Your father had done what any king would have, he sacrificed all he had for the good of his people. You could never be angry at him for that. With a sorrow-filled goodbye, you hugged your father unknowingly when you would see him again.

"You're new home awaits my princess." The God growled in your ear lowly as he ripped you from your father's grasp. "No, please, I want to stay with my father with my people." You cried in his tight grip, clawing in an attempt to get away, but it was no use, and within seconds your father and your people faded from your sights.

Ares knew you couldn't be taken you Olympus. You were mortal after all, so the next best thing was a temple in the mountains near the eastern sea. It had been abandoned for ages, the villagers that had once lived there long passed. However, it was still beautifully maintained. Many nymphs made their homes by the temple.

It was like a dream, flowers of every color decorated the temple, and the sun shined bright over the land. The ocean from below crashed onto the hot sand with a melodic chant. It was beautiful and serene.

The atmosphere much different than how you grew up. You wished you could have shown your father how beautiful it all was. Your chest was still tight at the fact you'd most likely never see him again. However, if it was your father's will that you went with the Gods' to ensure the safety of your people, you wouldn't disobey.

But in brute honesty, the God of war was the last person you'd ever want to share your life with. Everything he stood for, bloodshed and war, you disagreed with. Not to mentions the stories of the gods' affairs with the goddess Aphrodite and many others. Surely you weren't the first mortal he had taken.

Your guard was kept up; if anything, you would die fighting.

"Y/n." Your name sounded so foreign as it left his tongue, it caused a shiver to slithered down your spine. His smell was intoxicating as you felt his sharp jaw come to rest on your shoulder. With a sharp inhale, you tensed up.

The young God kissed his teeth, "I won't hurt you. I wasn't planning on it in the first place, but If it makes you feel better, I promised your father no harm would come to you, and I never break a promise. You don't have to be afraid."

You let out a scoff, "well, I'm sorry I am not like other women who would throw themselves at the chance to fuck Ares. I will not be treated as property or just some a piece of meat." He laughed, "I've watched you for much time, you're not like any other mortal. Nor are you like any other goddess. You are special. You, Y/n, are the only one worthy of being my wife." He nipped playfully at your ear

"Ares.." You whimpered softly.

"Katsuki Bakugo will do just fine."

"Bakugo, Katsuki." The way his name fell from your lips drew the young God into madness. Infatuation filled him, curiosity to get to know you, closer to you. For so long, he had watched you pined for you.

You, a mortal, had made a god fall in love with you. Not just any God.

The God Of War.

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dragynkeep · 3 years

Note

For the character ask thing (don't know if you're still doing it or not): Adam Taurus

meme, accepting.

my top three ships for the character.

tartaurus ( adam / cinder ) — for how they are in canon, this is the perfect “ we’ll go down in flames together, my love ” villain x villain ship for me & i adore it. i think they would be the absolute worst for each other & it would be amazing.

arctic warfare ( adam / winter ) — i do have a few wips for this & in a better canon, there definitely would’ve been some parallels drawn between them to compliment the blake / weiss parallels. honestly, them becoming childhood friends to enemies to something is god tier.

tauradonna ( adam / blake ) — in au only ; i think before canon confirmed & made adam into what he is, there were a lot of hints that their relationship, while not being the greatest, had been one of genuine care between them & honestly in my mind, could’ve been something comparable to padme / anakin as adam fell to the darkness too.

my three least favourite ships for the character.

tauradonna ( adam / blake ) — in canon, this can go fall into the river. not even just because it’s an abusive relationship, but because it’s a bad attempt at an abusive relationship. blake & adam don’t feel like real people, blake is a poor victim constantly & adam is the one note abusive hate sink. it’s a pathetic mockery of what an abusive relationship is & mk should feel ashamed for what they wrote.

my biggest criticism for the character.

it’s been said a million times so i won’t go into that whole rant again here but i will say that mk really should’ve nailed down what they wanted for adam & nailed down his relationships with people before they actually wrote him into the story — because as he is in canon? he’s a mess. he’s a one dimensional, flat, whiny hate sink & that’s not fun, that’s not interesting. that’s not even a compelling villain & this is without going into the uncomfortable truth that his character suffered the worst racism in the show, blinded in one eye & a child slave under an oppressive corporation, but thanks to milk & kornflake’s white comfort, his death was seen as the end of all racism because they wanted to wipe their hands clean of the plotline & adam all in one.

my favourite thing about the character.

his original design was top tier. the stark black & red contrast that we had already seen but on our good guy in ruby, all the sharp edges of the character & his imposing stature, the mask hiding his face & therefore leaving him a mystery to us, etc etc. all of it was incredible storytelling via design & props really should be given to the designers for their designs in the earlier volumes cause they were fantastic.

a headcanon i have about them.

adam isn’t a half bad singer, though he hasn’t found much reason to sing in recent years. however when he & blake were on better terms, he would sing her to sleep after she had had a nightmare & snuck into his room, looking for comfort in the one person she thought understood her. after blake left, even humming the song made him feel sick.

what i would change about them if i was making a re-write.

like i said up above, iron out exactly what they want him to be, & actually make him into a 3 dimensional character who has wants & desires & emotions outside of blake & his whiny diatribe of revenge against her & not the system that enslaved him.

what i think of their character allusion and what (if anything) i would change about it.

it’s not fucking gaston so let’s jot that down lmao; i still don’t know why people listen to arryn of all people when she’s not a writer. she may know things about blake but she has no control over the writing process, no matter how many of them are her ex boyfriends. adam as gaston makes no sense. gaston was part of the oppressive class, he was a coward who prided himself on his reputation for hunting defenceless animals, he is also a disney only creation — there was no gaston in the fairy tale iterations of beauty & the beast. while i’ll admit m&k were probably more influenced by the disney version than they want to admit, the canon is that rwby are based off of the fairytales, not their disney iterations.

with adam as the beast ... it’s okay? it’s a subversion of belle & the beast’s actual relationship — going from a woman who sees a monster & then learns to see the man within, to a woman seeing a man & then revealing the monster inside him. i’ve said before how much i hate that adam is seen as the propagator of racism & with his death came the end of racism in rwby because it’s just so inappropriate to those who actually suffer racism irl & shows how mk were a. out of their depth & b. prioritizing their white comfort. he also has to share this allusion with blake ( who is both belle & the beast? just pick one crwby. ) so there isn’t really opportunity to flesh that allusion out, especially with adam himself being so one dimensional.

#rwby #adam taurus #owl.txt #answered #q #racism /#child slavery /#abuse /#i literally could not think of two other ships i dont like for him lmao #not bc i dont like them #but bc i rarely ship him with anyone DAJSKDJ #Anonymous #character ask

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hyperactivelittlebee · 4 years

Text

Keeping Secrets 2/?

Back at it again with RenDad lol. To answer any potential questions- The oddity at Area 77 takes place during- well, the Area 77 arc- and Keeping Secrets occurs at the beginning of Season 6. Yes, Pele(Ren’s kid) and Amal exist in the same universe. This is all during the same universe, just different periods of time! This is a hermit’s being parents au. It will include Ships! But a few of the parents will be single- like Ren here. There will other kids in the future! Warnings for everyone- Character death and slight description is in this part. Alright, now that were done with that- Enjoy!

“I’m Grian…”

Ren couldn’t breathe. His chest was too tight, mind racing and body frozen in fear as the demon’s eyes scanned the small crowd. His eyes landed on Ren, and the moment the Lycan dreaded came as his eyes slowly widened in recognition.

"You…" His voice was barely a whisper, and in a moment's notice he was scrambling to his feet, cradling the bundle in his arms gently as he walked shakily toward him. He looked around Ren frantically before looking up at him pleadingly, "Where is she?"

The brunette opened his mouth, but no sound came out as he felt everyone in the room looking between them in confusion, their eyes burning holes into him as he tried to think of a lie.

"I-I...who?"

"You know who! Where's Elna? Please- please tell me she's safe I-I-"

"I-I really don't know who you're talking about- I- I don't even know an Elna…"

It was the blondes turn to fumble on his words, despair written on his features. He searched Ren's face frantically, and soon the Lycan's obvious anxiety became apparent. Grian's eyes widened as it clicked to him, looking to see the long healed claw-like scars along the man's arms, too thin and long to be from anything but a demon child.

The rest of the people here didn't know there was another demon on the server, and this man had been raising her in secret.

And Grian had just outed him.

Stepping back again, he gulped and looked away, "I-im sorry...it uh...seems I mistook you for someone else…" There was a sigh of relief from Ren, "Yea uh...no worries dude-" Ren's gaze settled on the blond demon's face, heart aching as he so badly wished he could tell the demon that Pele was fine, that she was healthy and cared for, and that she was happy with him.

However, a cry from the baby in his arms had Grian turning his attention from Ren, gently rocking him and cooing softly. Xisuma walked over and put a gentle hand on Grian's back, leading him back to where False, Mumbo, Doc, and Stress were gathered. Behind his eyes, flashbacks to that day played. The sight of betrayal in a young man's eyes towards his friend, the way blood dripped off the golden sword.

That incubus with golden locks and pretty blue eyes, looking so pained as he put Pele in Ren's arms, seeming resigned to a fate Ren hadn't understood in that moment.

The pure malice and insanity in the noirette demons eyes as he lectured the other demons, and the sight of his sword cutting through the incubus' neck and slashing his throat clean open.

Iskall walked over to him, concern written all over his face as his best friend looked uncharacteristically distant and fearful, as if memories were playing behind his eyes. He rested a hand on Ren’s shoulder, making the Lycan jump. For a split second, he looked terrified before he realized who was standing there.

His heart warming at the sight of the Swede, Ren felt a smile cross his features.

"Iskall…"

"Are you alright? You seem kind of out of it, dude."

Ren tried to laugh off the man's concern, taking a deep breath, "Just fine. I'm just sort of wondering who the new guy mistook me for-" He watched as the crowd dispersed, Xisuma and Mumbo walking away with Grian, "He seemed...so concerned."

Iskall hummed in contemplation, "For X to make this big of a deal, I'm sure he's one of the special case hermits. Kind of like Tango was, but more extreme I guess?"

Tango...

Tango was the only demon the server knew of, but he was more of a Blaze hybrid. He didn't have the whole horns and wings thing, but instead the only tell-tale signs were his eyes and a tail that made him mistakable for an animal hybrid instead. Tango was the first secret case he had been a part of, and he was one of the few to witness the man's first interaction with Impulse and Zedaph. The three of them immediately clicked in the sweetest way. Tango came stumbling out of the nether portal after Xisuma, only to trip and fall right on top of Impulse- who had been waiting too close to the portal- which would've been romantic if the blaze wasn't in the midst of a panic attack. As if on instinct, Zedaph had crouched down and started to comfort him, Impulse joining in until the taller of the 3 fell asleep in their arms, making them smile at each other in silent agreement.

Since then, they had been inseparable.

Almost like him and Pele.

"I guess so…"

They continued to talk for a bit, until Stress finally called Iskall for them to head back to their bases. Ren winked at his friend, joking that his Ice queen was calling, making Iskall snort and punch his arm. He watched as Iskall ran back over to Stress, smiling as the smaller woman leaned up and pecked Iskall on the lips before they waved goodbye to Ren, taking off with their elytras.

Sighing, Ren turned and started heading home.

~~~~~~~~~

"...and this is where you can stay until you get started on a base, or until I can get a better room for you," Mumbo motioned to the double bed in the makeshift treehouse. For once, he was cursing himself for not having built a better place. Xisuma was relieved when Mumbo offered to let Grian stay with him, having a deep trust in the man's capability.

Grian felt it was perfect.

His body was aching in exhaustion as he walked over and sat on the bed, exhaustion hitting him like a brick as he gently rocked the infant in his arms. The taller of the three noticed this and walked over, kneeling down and cupping the demon's cheek gently with one hand, the other touching the bundle in Grian's arms cautiously.

"Let me take him for now. I'll watch him while you sleep, I promise."

Grian was nervous. He didn't want to just hand his baby over to a stranger, yet he knew he had no choice. He was too exhausted from it all.

The fear as Mini and Zee ran beside him. The utter terror as he watched Mini tell him goodbye, staying behind to stall Taurtis.

The burning in his legs as he just ran, ran, ran, listening to the crying bundle in Zee's arms. Him and Zee needed to make it out. If they didn't- if they were caught- Grian knew it would be the end. Zee would die, and the Taurtis would most likely kill the baby once he realized it wasn't his. The safety of his lover and baby were at the top of his list right now, and he knew Zee was thinking the same as the taller demon gripped his hand with not a single sign of letting him go.

Slowly, Grian handed his baby to Mumbo, admiring how the human man knew just how gently to cradle the demon infant. At the thought of his lover, Grians heart clenched in unbearable pain, the memories resurfacing.

As they reached the nether portal, Grian ran up to a man in a suit. He collapsed against the frame of the obsidian portal, legs shaking from the long distance they ran. He heard him and Zee exchange words before Zee handed the baby to the man, their words muffled to him due to the blood rushing in his ears. He watched in tired confusion as Zee let go of his hand. He stood up as best as he could, look at his lover in worry, "Zee? What are you-"

Before he could continue, the red head hugged him close, arms tight around him, holding him as if it was the last time he would.

Grian had no idea it would be.

He pulled back and intertwined their fingers with one hand, Grian still so confused at what was happening, "Dearest, look at me, please…"

Grian looked up into Zees ruby red orbs, the lively, beautiful eyes he fell in love with.

"Z-zee?"

Taking as deep breath, Zee cupped Grian's cheek, leaning down and capturing Grians lips in his own. The blond reciprocated the kiss eagerly.

Zee kissed him like it was the end of the world. He kissed him like he was trying to convey every emotion he felt for Grian in a single kiss, filled with so much tenderness, passion, and love it made Grian's heart melt. For a second, Grian forgot about it all. He forgot this was life or death, he forgot about the man in the suit probably awkwardly watching, he forgot about the world around them. His hands cupped Zees face, dedicating every detail to memory.

Then Zee pulled back, the two of them panting as Zee rested his forehead on Grian's.

"Grian, I love you so much. Ever since we met, you've been the light in the dark for me and you've brought me nothing but joy and happiness. I want you to remember this okay?" Grian nodded gently, still lost, "I. Love. You. I love you, and I will never stop loving you. Never, ever forget that…"

"I love you too, but what-"

"YOU!!!"

Fear filled Grian as Zee turned, facing a very, VERY, pissed Taurtis. Zee grabbed the man in the suits sword, "RUN!" The man grabbed Grian's arm and tugged him to the portal, but Grian buried his heels in place, "Zee!! What are you doing- Let me go!!" Grian struggled, tears filling his eyes as he watched Taurtis and Zees swords clash. The two fought hard, but Grian knew Zee would lose. Zee had never been a fighter, and his footwork was clumsy compared to Taurtis. Suddenly he was yanked forward and an arm wrapped around his waist. He was picked up and thrown over the suited man's shoulder, "I'm so sorry about this!!"

"ZEE!!!" Grian cried out and struggled, sobbing as he reached out for Zee.

Just before he went through the portal, Grian saw his worst nightmare come true.

Zee stumbled forward, his eyes locking with Grian's for a split second as Taurtis got behind him. Grian let out a shriek as he watched the sword be stabbed into Zees back, a look of unbearable pain flashing across his face before Grian was suddenly in a new world.

Grian felt a sob erupt from his throat, shoulders shaking. Mumbos eyes widened and X seemed alarmed, carefully taking the baby from Mumbo as the noirette reached out. As soon as Mumbo touched his shoulder, Grian launched forward, wrapping his arms around Mumbo’s torso and burying his face in the tall man's collar bone. He cried. He cried, and cried, and for a while it seemed he'd never stop sobbing.

Mumbo held him tightly, gently petting his hair and rubbing circles in his back, his own heart aching at the demon's pure heartbreak.

He thought back to the promise- The one he had made to the red-headed demon.

He wouldn't let anything happen to Grian and his baby. He wouldn't let Grian suffer anymore.

He was going to pick up the broken pieces of Grian one by one, no matter how long it took and how rough things got. The blond needed somebody by his side, and Mumbo was more than willing to be that person.

~~~~~~~~~~

As Ren opened the door to his base, he was immediately greeted by the sight of Tango telling an extravagant story to a more than amused Pele. Chuckling, Ren spoke up, "I'm home!" Pele perked up and looked at him, "Dad!" She stood up and ran over, jumping to hug him. Ren felt his heart warm as he hugged the young demon tightly, chuckling, "Someones excited today, huh?" He laughed as he let go, ruffling her hair a bit, making her yelp.

Pele was now 16, turning 17 soon. Ren knew in just a few more years, she'd be able to meet the rest of the hermits. For now though, only Tango knew of her existence- due to him being half demon as well, Ren trusted him to help with the things Ren couldn't understand about his daughter.

"Tang-tang was just telling me about another project him, Pulsey, and Zed are working on!"

"Really now?" Ren looked at Tango, who was standing by with a grin, "Let me guess, a rocket shop?"

Tango gasped dramatic, "Well dang man, figured me out so quickly?! Am I that predictable?"

"Nah, just a wild guess." Tango chuckled before turning to hug Pele tightly, "Alright, I gotta get going. I'll continue the story next time! Alright?" The young girl nodded and Tango ruffled her hair fondly the same way Ren did, "Alright then, then be good ya little fire-starter!" The demon walked out and Ren trailed behind him, shutting the door behind him.

Ren sighed in relief, smiling weakly at Tango, "Thanks again for coming on short notice- X just called out of nowhere and I-I-"

Noticing the stress practically rolling off the Lycan, Tango reached out and gently squeezed Ren's bicep. Ren looked up to see the golden blond giving him a smile, full of fondness and warmth, "Seriously Ren, it's no big deal. You know how much I love hanging out with your kid- she's practically like a niece to me. Don't you ever worry about having to call me out of nowhere, okay? I'm here."

Ren could've cried, silently thanking whatever god there was for the people around him. His smile widening, Tango pulled him into a tight hug before stepping back. He waved goodbye and took off, leaving Ren alone on the beach.

The lycan turned and headed back inside, seeing Pele sitting on the floor with a basket of flowers. She loved weaving them, so Ren always picked her baskets to give her something to do other than reading and practicing.

"Is the princess makin' more crowns?" Ren walked over and sat down beside Pele. The demoness giggled before picking up a flower crown made beautiful blue hydrangeas and putting it on Ren's head. Grinning, Ren threw his head back dramatic and fluttered his lashes, "So, Am I fabulous yet Le-le?" He swooned dramatically and Pele cracked up, leaning into her father's side while laughing, being careful not to hurt him with her horns.

Ren smiled fondly at her, chuckling, "Seriously though, I love it. It's wonderful, Le-le." He pecked her forehead and pulled her into a side hug before straightening the crown, "I think I'll keep it on for a while, hm?"

Pele snickered, smiling widely, "You look like a Hippie, dad."

Ren quirked a brow before making a face, "Yeeeeaaa rock on mayyyynnn-"

Almost instantly Pele started laughing again, hitting his chest, "Oh my god Dad no!!"

Watching her laugh, Ren relaxed.

This was fine.

He wasn't going to lose his little girl just because someone from her past came back and recognized him…

Would he?

#hermitcraft #hermitshipping #grumbo #rendog #grianmc #iskall85 #hermitkiddoau

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queenmuzz · 4 years

Text

Deep Blue Sea

Special thanks to @frostbyte13 for thinking up the title.

Instead of focusing on my Spardaverse story, my brain demanded a multichapter Reader x Mer!Vergil AU. So here’s the first chapter.

Salt water spray sprinkled all over you as you gripped the railing. The winds were fierce, the waves were high, and you were having the time of your life. Sure, your dad was a bit hesitant of taking the yacht out when the weather so fidgety, but could he ever resist the charms of his little precious girl, especially on her eighth birthday? So, after some lip wibbling, he'd caved and now you were cruising the choppy waters.

You could say that instead of blood, you had seawater running through your veins. Your great- grandfather was a a humble fisherman, your grandfather had built up a fleet, and your father had inherited and grown the fishing business to an international empire. At any one time, he had ships off the coast of Argentina, near the shores of South Africa, dodging icebergs in the Antarctic, and casting out near Newfoundland. Which led to your family being very, very wealthy. Of course, you didn't know it at the time, being just a child, you just thought that every child could go on their own boat on their birthday. That being said, while your dad told you that one day you would take over, you didn't seem to find the idea appealing. You loved the sea for what it was, not for what you could take out of it. Your father just chuckled and said you would understand better when you were older.

“Sweetheart, make sure your life jacket is on tight!” you heard your father yell over the waves, as he wrangled the ship's wheel.

“Yes dad!” You yelled back, and rolled your eyes. You hated wearing the thing, it always restricted your movement. So despite what you just said, you had already undone some of the straps. Besides, you were the best swimmer in your swimming class, you could handle anything. You ran across the deck, and when you got the railing, you spread your arms out, like that picture from that movie you mom wouldn't let you watch 'until you were older'. The waves were tall, tipped with white and you imagined you were on a little toy boat in a giant's bathtub. The winds whistled sharply past you, carrying sea birds with them. You followed them as they flew off to horizon, but then your eyes were distracted.

At first you thought the flash of brilliant blue was a trick of the light, but then a glare of red... and the pale colour of skin, and silvery-white. Placing your hand up to block the glare, you squinted to see, it wasn't trash, or a boat, or a really colourful bird. It was one...no two... people swimming in the ocean. And on further inspection, you could barely make out they were....kids? That was weird, there were no other boats in sight, and you were miles from shore, how did they get there?

You waved and shouted “Hey!”, and even though they were far away, and you were certain your voice had been drowned out by the sound of the waves and wind, they stopped what they were doing, and you could have sworn they were staring at you. Perhaps they were in trouble? You waved again, now with both hands out, but at the exact worst moment. One of the swells, much larger than the other, hit the starboard bow with the force of car, smashing into you, and before you could grab the railing, you were swept off the deck. All around you was a mass of water, pummeling you this way and that, and without warning, the only remaining snap on your lifejacket undid itself, and your lifeline to the surface was washed away.

You flailed like a ragdoll, a slave to a frenzy of currents, unable to figure out which way was up to air and safety, and which led down to death. Your lungs burned as they demanded more oxygen, but you were unable to comply, as you tumbled around like some clown at the circus.

Eventually, after a half minute, your arms became heavy and tired, so you stopped struggling against the inevitable, and went completely slack. Your eyesight began to fade, your hearing... wait, were there voices?

“HEY! ARE YOU OKAY?”

“She can't answer underwater, you idiot, we need her to get to the surface right now.”

“But what if they see us?”

“She'll die if she stays down here, we have to take the chance”

You felt the tug a pair, no two pairs of hands around your waist, and you were suddenly jerked in an unexpected direction. Suddenly, the pressure of the water on your face dissipated, and you could hear clearly again. You gulped air, attempting to cram the entire world's atmosphere into your aching lungs. You were still disoriented, cold and wet, but you were aware of three things, the sky had become darker and more threatening, the waves were higher and rougher...

.... and you were protected by the brunt of it by two figures that you clutched for dear life.

“The boat's too far away! She'll never be able to swim to it, even if there wasn't a storm!” You were vaguely aware of red scales that glittered like rubies, even in the ever diminishing light. “We have to get her somewhere solid, somewhere she can hold onto until it passes, the humans don't start looking for them until the storm ends” A shimmer of iridecent blue scales flickered in and out of your sight.

“Well there's the shore...”

“Too far away, and we might be seen” “Lookout Rock isn't far, but she won't be able hold on, not in this weather!”

“It's her only chance, let's go.”

You felt yourself being... dragged through the water, with the figures (they couldn't be much bigger than you, were they children?) attempting to keep your a head above the waters, but every so often a wave would envelope you, dragging you back under for a few terrifying moments.

“Sorry!” the one in red called out after a particularly large wave. The one in blue remained silent as he lifted you above the crest of yet another wave. You tried to doggy paddle, to help, but you were so tired.

Finally, your fingertips touched barnacle covered rock, and you gripped onto the rock with all your remaining strength. “Up” a voice ordered, and you struggled to comply, but you were just so tired, and it took everything to just hold on to the slick algae covered portions. You heard an annoyed grunt as the one in blue pushed you up, and you heard the distinct sound of fish slapping against something solid. (you'd heard it a million times, when your father would take his business partners out deep see fishing fishing). Looking down, you saw brilliant blue fins... no, no it can't be right. From his waist down, the boy helping you was completely fishlike. But above, he looked like a normal kid, except with hair as white as sea foam. You were tired, and your eyes were playing tricks on you.

“You stay with her Verg, I'll go get help!”

“Wait! Dante! There's no one out there in th-” but the one with red (fins? Maybe you hit your head on a rock or something) dove back into the water.

“Idiot” he muttered, “I always have to chase after you, little brother...” and you felt him pull away. In a fit of panic, you whirled around and grabbed his retreating arm. You stared into his piercing grey eyes, and pleaded, barely more than a whisper.

“Please don't leave me”

And so, grumbling incoherently, he pressed back onto you, shielding you from the worst of the waves as the wind as you clung to the rock, and while he never spoke to you directly, you heard him say “Humans are so weak, it's a wonder you survive on land, let alone out here..” But you didn't mind, tired as you were. You felt safe and protected, calm, like in the eye of a hurricane, and as the wind died down, you eventually passed out.

*******

You awoke, bleary eyed in a warm, dry bed. What an intense dream! But... this wasn't your bed, your room, or even your house! You were much higher than your bed, and the beeping of machines was almost annoying as Timothy at school. Above you with smiles and tears on their faces were your mother and father. This made no sense. They both loved you, but as your dad had once said, they didn't love each other anymore. And they were never in the same room together if they could help it.

“Oh Sweetheart, you're awake!” your father sniffled as he held your hand.

“Dad?” you croaked, “What happened? Where am I”

Your mother stroked your cheek, “You fell off the boat, sweetiepie, and during a storm too.” she glared at your father “For shame Charles, what possessed you to take our daughter out in such weather, and without a proper life-jacket!?”

“Carolyn, I told you we would not discuss it in front of her, not right now...” your father growled back between clenched teeth. That uncomfortable tension from a few years back, before your mother moved out of your house had returned with a vengeance. You hated it.

“How...did I get here?” you asked, attempting to derail the argument. It worked, because both their faces softened.

“The coast guard found you, clinging to a rock a mile or so from where you fell off after the storm. How you managed to get there and stay on it in such terrible weather is a miracle”

You blinked, and wanted to argue that it wasn't just you, some merpeople had helped you...but then you bit your tongue. After all, merpeople didn't exist, except in movies and books.

You ruminations were cut short by the crinkle of paper, and the pressure of a wrapped box on your lap.

“Happy Belated Birthday, dear” your parents said in unison, for once agreeing on something.

#Devil may cry #vergil x reader #mermaid AU #Vergil

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winchester-with-wings · 4 years

Text

Thief at Sea

Pairing: Newt Scamander x Witch!Reader

@yaviel-writes requested (a long time ago lol): Niffler steals stuff from the reader, who is also a witch

A/N: This is an older request that I finished a long time ago but never posted. You might notice a Titanic reference here or there hehehe Hope ya'll like it!

Word Count: 2700ish

This was posted a long time ago on my Patreon! Wanna get previews, early access and make exclusive requests? Become a Patron! You can follow my Patreon for free too! Can’t become a patron? please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi (Tips are appreciated, especially in this uncertain time)

Mobile Masterlist / Ko-Fi

------------

*gif found on google*

---------------------------------------------------

Newt Scamander figured the likelihood of there being other witches and wizards on a ship bound for New York City was quite possible. Statistically, there must’ve been at least a few wizards amongst the hundreds of muggles aboard. But just as he kept to himself, so must they.

Three to four people were bunked in some of the boat’s rooms. Newt had been fortunate enough to afford a small but private room for him and his suitcase. He wasn’t about to risk the chance of a curious muggle opening his case when he wasn’t looking. Some wizards might not have been so lucky.

Still...Newt found the middle of the North Atlantic ocean to be quite a lonely place. He explored as much of the ship as was permitted, all the while carrying his suitcase with him. His creatures were restless as well. Though they had plenty of living space, they must’ve sensed the change in geography.

Newt visited them when he could, daring to enter his suitcase only when he was in his quarters with the door locked. His longing for land and sun was satiated by Frank’s enclosure. Caring for his young Occamys kept him busy and the Mooncalves needed feeding. And one morning, he checked on the Bowtruckles and found that Pickett had a cold. The small creature was now tucked into his coat pocket for body heat.

The niffler seemed especially susceptible to the world outside the suitcase. He could sense all of the worldly treasures people were travelling with. And if Newt had to guess, it was his niffler who kept popping the latch on his case and attempting to escape. Newt would just have to remain vigilant.

There was a multitude of fascinating people aboard this boat. You filled your days observing them all and basking on the sundeck. As a novelist, you had been looking forward to your ride to America, as much as the trip itself. The crowds and the opportunities for isolation were the perfect conditions to work on your characters and stories.

There were a few people you'd become quite infatuated with too.

A small girl with a pretty dress, large sun hat, and a doll. You'd imagined her to being an energetic little thing, an only child, perhaps a bit spoiled, the kind of girl who had tugged on her mum's hand until she'd relented and bought the hat.

A hearty bloke, rough around the edges, well-worn clothes and a scar here or there on his exposed arms. You would write him as a working man, a former soldier perhaps, in search of a woman and a better life in America.

A young couple with extravagant taste in clothing. The dark haired man looked happier than the red haired woman. You wrote them as arranged, betrothed for wealth and only one of them was happy about it. You imagined her to have a strong spirit and wandering eye. She'd exchanged looks with with a strapping lad, below her class. You hoped they fell in love and defied all the odds.

Another man who caught your attention seemed quite preoccupied with a suitcase. He was lovely to look at with tousled fiery hair and fair skin that had been speckled by sun exposure. He dressed well but they were worn. He looked like a traveller and the way he clutched that suitcase, he must live out of it.

What would drive a man to be so protective of his personal items? Wealth? Perhaps, but you had trusted your cabin to store all of your items. What could he possibly have to protect?

However, you had charmed your personal effects. No muggle...or wizard...could access them. Perhaps this man was a muggle? It was hard to tell. But surely there were other witches and wizards aboard.

The man with the suitcase took a stroll around the ship at the same time every day. At some point, he'd sit at a bench and rest the case on his lap. One of the latches popped open now and then but you never saw what was inside.

What if it was treasure? That was an intriguing thought. You wore your treasures (a locket and an opal ring) around your neck and on your finger, except for your grandmother's ruby ring. That was locked away, with a charm for good measure. No one would get their hands on it.

At least that's what you thought.

You were sharing cabin with a few other women. They seemed pleasant enough. Private yet hopeful for what awaited them in New York.

One of them called New York home and you revelled in every detail and recommendation she could offer you. Another was travelling with her family but they couldn't all fit in one cabin. She enjoyed the company of you and the other young ladies. The third was a girl with a sweet voice and tightly curled hair. She longed for the life of a New York girl; couldn't wait to attend parties wearing glitter and lipstick. She aspired to be an actress and you found her to be quite talented.

They didn't ask too much about you, which you preferred. You didn't want to elaborate on “Grew up outside of London and went to boarding school.” These girls were definitely muggles and they had no business knowing about Hogwarts.

One night, as the ship embarked ever closer to New York, there was a rustling in the cabin. One girl squealed and awoke you and the others.

“Rat!! Don't you hear it? Scurrying about?!”

The cabin remained dark as no one risked touching the floor and encountering the animal. You could hear it and if it was a rat, you weren't too concerned. Rats were common pets at Hogwarts. Yet you played the part of a frightened girl, sitting up in bed and curling your knees to your chest. One of the girls on the top bunk, tossed a shoe at the floor in an attempt to scare off the animal and she must've succeeded because the animal left the room, leaving you all wondering how it got in in the first place.

It was fortunate that you were the one who learned of the creature's true identity the next day. A muggle would've reacted differently.

The sun was bright today, beating down upon you in your several layers of clothing, which had served you well in London.

You took a respite in your cabin around noon. No one else was there as you changed outfits. But as you rifled through your own suitcase, you came to realize something was missing. Try as you might, your grandmother's ring was gone!

You searched the cabin high and low for the ring. It couldn't have left the room! And still you couldn’t find it. Hopeless and upset, you laid upon your bed, burying your face in your pillow.

At some point, you fell asleep. You’re not sure when you did but when you woke, there was a weight on your chest. It reminded you of your cat from Hogwarts and how he used to sleep on you. You thought it was just a dream but there was a tugging sensation at your neck that awoke you.

It happened so quickly, the way you startled as you realized that there was, in fact, something on top of you. You have the chance to either flail or freeze. You chose the latter. You opened your eyes slowly, straining your eyes to look down. It’s not as large as a cat but it’s alarming no matter what. At first glance, you’ve never seen anything like it.

You figured that the creature sitting on your chest--tugging at the locket around your neck--is not from the Muggle world. However, he did slightly resemble a platypus. He didn’t seem malicious but how were you to really know? Why did he have his little webbed paws clasped around your necklace? You tried to sit up slowly, a test to see if he could be scared off or if he’d stay in place. While he did slide down your body, the creature stayed put as best he could. The expression in his sparkling eyes was defiant as he yanked at your necklace.

“Give it to me!” he seemed to be communicating with each tug. You pried his little paws off of the gold pendant and chain and when that tether had been released, you set him down and jumped to your feet.

“You’re the little blighter that was in here last night, aren’t you?” you accused him--not that you expected him to answer. He only looked ashamed for half a second before something shiny caught his eye from across the room. He scurried off the bed towards your cabin mates’ belongings. “Bloody hell! Oh no you don’t!”

Like an uncoordinated cat after a mouse, you chased the creature around the cabin, not once coming close. As he stole a piece of jewelry and some money from one girl’s trunk, you pulled out your wand. He scurried across the room and before you could mutter a single word, the creature squeezed himself through the miniscule crack under the door.

If you doubted whether the creature was magical or not, that certainly answered your question.

“No!” You ran after him, throwing the door open and hoping for an empty hallway. He couldn’t go far on a ship in the middle of the ocean but still you couldn’t have him wandering around and stealing from people. How did he even get here?

As you rounded the corner of the narrow hallway, you risked whipping out your wand once more.

“Accio!” you hissed, exasperated. The creature was caught in your line of sight, susceptible to your charm. He surged into the air and then floated over to you where you suspended him for inspection. You watched as he slipped a coin into an invisible belly pouch. It was then that you realized what this creature was. “Ohhh, you…” you squinted at him, “where did you come from? Of all places to find you…”

The niffler tilted his head and just blinked at you. The corner of your mouth tilted up. He was rather cute, in an odd sort of way. With a flick of your wand, you pulled him closer to you, taking him into your embrace.

“Let’s get you back to my cabin, shall we? Don’t want any muggles to see you.” The niffler nuzzled into you, once again taking hold of your necklace. “If you stole my ring, I’m going to need that back,” you warned him.

The sound of shoes scuffing the floors brought you to the realization that someone else was in the corridor near your cabin. You glanced up to see the red-haired man you’d observed on the upper decks. He was on his hands and knees peeking around other cabin doors. He pulled that brown suitcase along with him as if he needed it nearby when he found what he’s looking for.

You’re about to turn around and hide the niffler when the man’s face lifted to look at you. Your back is to him.

“Oh um...excuse me…” he muttered quietly, getting to his feet. “I must be in your way. I’m terribly sorry. I was just…” He swatted at his coat and finally his gaze met yours as you turned around. “...looking for something…” his voice trailed off. His green eyes trained on the niffler.

“Does this little bugger belong to you?” You approached the man, coming closer to your own cabin.

“Erm, yes that’s my niff--”

“A niffler, yes.” The wizard breathed a sigh of relief at discovering you were a witch. “Were you smuggling this creature into the country?” you accused him, holding fast to the animal. The red-haired man, who’d yet to introduce himself, seemed shifty and unwilling to make eye contact.

“N--no no, absolutely not. I mean, technically, yes. But he was to accompany me on my travels. Never for sale,” he reassured you. “My name is Newt Scamander.” He introduced himself, extending a hand. You took it but not as a handshake.

“We should leave the corridor in case any muggles come by,” you suggested. You pulled Newt towards your cabin and checked to make sure that it was still empty before pushing him into the small space. You locked the door behind you. “Does he have a name?” you asked, holding up the creature that was snuggling into your neck.

“Erm...no...he’s--uh--just niffler.”

“Oh, well that’s boring,” you giggled. “Do you have several nifflers?” Mr. Scamander shook his head. “Well then, if he’s one of a kind in your collection, I should think he should have a name.”

“Y-yes, one of kind indeed,” he scowled at the creature. “And what about you? Surely someone like you must have a one of a kind name, as well?” Newt ventured to say and you thought it almost sounded like a compliment.

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.” You shook his hand for real this time. “I was starting to think that if he was just a stowaway and no one was to claim him that I would take on the honor of naming your niffler.”

“What would you call him?”

“I’m thinking...Richard.”

Newt seemed to snort and scoff at the same time. His smile was a crooked one, tilting up on one side when he looked at you with those green eyes.

“I’m--I’m sorry. Richard? Why, might I ask?”

“Well, for several reasons. One: Richard is a very dignified name. Second: Richie the Pickpocket has a nice ring to it and third...well stealing priceless heirlooms from people is a bit of a dick move. Don’t ya think?” you asked as you tried to hold up the niffler and put him on display. Newt grinned.

“I suppose. Though, I see he hasn’t taken your necklace. Not for lack of trying,” he admitted. He started to detach the animal from your necklace and take him into his own arms. The platypus looking creature squirmed.

“Yes, well he did take my grandmother's ruby ring and that’s a problem. Do you know how to get it back?”

“Yes, unfortunately I have too much experience with that.” Newt took the niffler but the foot and hung him upside down. You squeaked, out of concern, but Newt smiled at you for reassurance. With his deft fingers, he started to tickle the creature’s tummy.

Countless items started to fall out of his invisible pouch! All things shiny! Jewelry and coin currency mostly. You imagined he’d be quite the desired tool for criminals looking to make money. Newt didn’t seem surprised, nor interested in the money. Still holding onto his creature under his arm, Newt searched through the pile of treasures until he found the only ruby ring.

“I’ve found it!” he boasts, kneeling before you on one knee. He presents the ring to you and for a moment, the scene before you is eerily similar to a proposal.

You accept your heirloom.

“Thank you so much! I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d lost it forever.”

Newt put the niffler on the ground but still had a hold of him by the tail. He kept control of the animal while the niffler cleaned up the mess of shiny objects which had spilled like a golden waterfall. He stashed it all away in that pouch again and you couldn't think of an unethical reason for why he couldn’t do so. The little thief probably always had a stash.

Once Richie, the pickpocketing niffler, had cleaned up his mess, Newt brandished his large, old, leather suitcase. He opened it up and shoved the niffler inside, locking it quickly.

“What do you do for a living, Mr. Scamander?” you asked as the two of you left your cabin for the main deck.

“Oh, well uh, I study magical creatures. I’m writing a guide on how to care for them.” There’s a twinkle of passion in his eyes.

“Of course you are,” you grin. “I imagine there’s to be an entire chapter on your niffler?” you teased.

“Yes, you are quite right.”

“I’d love to learn more. If you’d happen to be available during our passage to New York, perhaps we could further discuss it?”

“Oh, yes. There’s much I can tell you. And maybe even show you?”

Your eyes drifted to his suitcase. There must’ve been more than one magical creature stowed away on this trip to America.

#newt scamander #newt scamander x reader #newt x reader #newt scamander imagine #newt scamander fanfiction #newt scamander fluff #fbawtft #fantastic beasts and where to find them #my writing #eddie redmayne #harry potter #wizarding world #niffler

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scullyy · 5 years

Text

Days With You / Chapter Two

Title: Days With You / Chapter One, Chapter Two

Pairing: Clementine x Louis

Word Count: 1770

Summary: Louis and Clementine are trying to keep their new relationship a secret, but they’re not doing a very good job.

A/N: I’ve never been to a bar what’s it like, also aye finally got part two up let’s get this bread

It was so obvious, it’s like they weren’t even trying to hide it. With all the subtle touching, bashful looks and just being in constant state of awe with each other, their supposed “secret” relationship was already failing. Everyone shared quick glances, biting their tongues to stop the oncoming laughter everytime Louis and Clementine did something cute.

Aasim coughed to break the silence, reminding Clem and Louis that there were other people around them. “You guys ready to order?” He threw a menu at Louis, who completely ignored it.

Louis cleared his throat, trying to keep a straight face. “There’s no rush my dude, I get the same thing every time-”

“-the nut mix with a glass of Lemon Lime Bitters,” Clementine finished for him, instantly biting her tongue from embarrassment, his order was something no one else in their group had bothered to learn. They all felt it second-hand, except for Louis who just gave her a smile full of sin. Clementine just ignored everyone and stared intently at the menu, despite the fact she wasn’t hungry.

It got quiet again after that, really quiet. Luckily it was karaoke night and a group of drunk young guys decided to sing Under The Sea, making the group laugh in unison. Their over-the-top dancing brought tears to Louis’s eyes. “They are butchering a marvellous song!” The artist in him soaked in pain.

“At least they’re out there having fun,” Violet teased. “You think you could do any better?”

Louis was offended by her lack of belief. “You know who you’re talking to right? I could outplay those guys in my sleep.”

Marlon shoved Violet with a little too much force. “Don’t tempt the guy, it’s hard enough keeping him quiet in Music class as it is.”

Louis was already bouncing in his seat like a giddy child. An opportunity to give them the old’ razzle dazzle? The temptation was too real. “Maybe later, I’m going to the bar to get my nut mix,” Marlon stood to join him, wanting a quiet moment with Louis. They squished through the tight crowd of people. Of course, they had to go on Ladies Night. Marlon awkwardly tapped his foot against the wooden floor as Louis tried to get the bartender's attention amongst the crowd of drunk women. “Can I ask you something Lou?”

“Whatever it was I didn’t do it,” He babbled, already having a brief idea on what the question would be. “Please don’t say it, please don’t say it-” He prayed to himself.

“-Is there something going on between you and Clem? You’ve been acting extra weird since we left the carnival if that’s somehow possible.”

“Fuck!”

Louis eventually got the man's attention and quickly told him the order. He and Clementine made a promise to each other on the Ferris Wheel to keep their budding relationship a secret until they were ready for all the questions and jokes they knew their friends would bombard them with. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marlon was dissatisfied with that answer but knew that continuing to press him would result in nothing, perhaps a game was in order? Something that Louis understood. “Hey, who's that guy talking to Clem?”

Like lightning, Louis lifted up his head to look at their table, seeing that she was only talking to Omar and Brody. His chest grew heavy with the realisation that he gave Marlon exactly what he wanted. “Not cool dude.” Louis wanted nothing more than to punch his lifelong friend in the dick. Marlon, however, felt a sense of pride having beat Louis at a game for once, even if their walk back to the table was lacking their usual jokes.

“I vote we kick Marlon off the island,” Louis hissed as he sat on the stool beside Clem. “The tribe has spoken!” He slammed his drink onto the table, some of it spilling onto the rickety table.

Marlon kicked him in the shin. “It was a harmless question, Lou.”

Their tension was felt by everyone at the table. “Everything okay?” Clementine asked.

“Yea, just curious about us,” He whispered to her.

Clementine hid her face in her sleeves, her and Louis certainly weren’t doing a good job of hiding their relationship. The feeling was still fresh for her, for both of them. They were riding the high of their conversation on the Ferris Wheel, buzzing off each other’s energy. God never had anything made her feel so girlish and giddy, she had to bite her tongue to stop the squeals.

The next hour flew by without another mention of the two, instead focusing on the brave souls who sang their hearts out on the stage. The kids would still often look back at Clementine and Louis, smiling at how happy and content they were near each other. Such hopeless suckers in love.

Violet, however, was fuelled by her curiosity. How could everyone be so calm about this? They've all been waiting for this relationship since 11th Grade! Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands…

She tapped a love-struck Clementine on the shoulder, bracing herself for the whiplash she was about to receive. “Hey, Clem, are you and Louis fucking?”

The true Violet way, blunt and to the point. Kinda.

Clementine wanted to climb into her sweater and disappear forever as what Violet asked started to sink in, bringing out a roaring laughter from everyone but Clementine and Louis.

Louis threw one of Mitch’s chips at her nose. “What the fuck is wrong with you Vi?”

“So many things,” Violet smirked like the little imp she was, basking in the intense shade of how red Louis’s cheeks were. It was like they were a new colour. “You gonna answer my question or what?”

Neither of them wanted to answer, but if it meant getting their friends off their back, not that they were or had ever...flipped. This was so much worse than them not knowing. Clementine raised her head, shooting everyone daggers. “Louis asked me on a date when we were at the carnival.”

Violet, Aasim and Marlon stretched out their hands, embracing the money Brody, Mitch, Omar and Ruby gave them. “We made a bet before going to the carnival on who would make the move first,” Aasim smiled down at his ten dollar note, glowing with pride. “You have both been all other each other since high school.”

Louis couldn’t find any words. This was so ridiculous! Had life suddenly turned into a sitcom? Some over-the-top story? “Am I really that predictable?”

It was a choir of ‘yep’, ‘like clockwork’ and ‘yeah pretty much’ from everyone, even Clem joined the tease train, earning a raised eyebrow from Louis. He turned his head eerily slowly to her, causing her to stifle a laugh.

Two can play at that game. “Oh, you’re teasing me now? You’re the one who kissed me on the Ferris Wheel.”

He slammed his hand over his mouth as soon as their secret escaped his mouth, and by the look of Clementine’s face, she was ready to rip his throat out.

“You guys what?!” Screamed Marlon. His best friend? Kissing his other best friend? WHAT?

“Shit,” Louis mumbled into his sweaty palm. “I mean...nothing happened we are all children of Jesus.” He gave everyone a sheepish smile, one that everyone loved so much.

“Fuck off I’m the only one who can make bible jokes,” Violet had earned the right after attending years of bible study with her obnoxious cousins. “Why didn’t you guys say anything?”

“We wanted to keep quiet until we were ready for the jokes and comments you guys would make.” Clementine skulled down the rest of her water, eager to relieve the crack in her voice. It always happened whenever she was embarrassed.

“Guys,” Marlon grabbed Louis’s shoulder, giving him a sense of hope. “We’re going to make fun of you no matter what.”

A false sense of hope.

“We’ve been shipping you guys since high school,” Brody admitted, giving them a bashful smile.

Both Louis and Clementine felt slightly relieved that the worst was now over. Feeling a wave of confidence soar over her, Clem planted a brief kiss on Louis’s cheek, which sent the table into chaos as Louis dramatically swooned into her arms

“You ready to go Vi?”

Clementine swung her car keys around her finger, eager to sink into her bed. Violet was focused on a shooting star flying across the rich sky, wishing for Minnie to come back safe and sound.

“Yeah, I need to sleep right now.”

Everyone else made way to their own vehicles, except for Mitch and Ruby, who were walking home. A benefit of not living at the university, you save money on gas.

“Clem,” Louis poked her rough denim jacket, feeling the warmth radiating from her smile. “Sorry that everyone found out so soon. I know you wanted it a secret.”

“I don’t care that much.”

Not an answer he was expecting. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t care that people know, if they laugh then fuck them,” She straightened out a wrinkle in the sleeve of his jacket, making a mental note to teach him how to iron. Her hand lingered over his own, finding a simple pleasure in the slight callouses on his fingers. “Goodnight Louis. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Clementine left him wanting more as she slid into her car, driving back towards school campus, their home away from home. Louis’s chest fell with a heavy sigh, he looked like a confused dragon with the vapour coming out of his mouth.

“Earth to Louis?”

He snapped out of his lust-filled daydream, seeing Marlon leaning against his old truck. “Can we go to McDonald's? I really want a frozen coke.”

Louis snatched the keys from his hand. “I’m driving but.” Marlon yanked them right back, no way in hell would Louis EVER be allowed to drive his car. He could barely ride his skateboard as it is.

“Hey dude,” Marlon wrapped his arm around Louis’s neck, letting his free hand run wild in the soft dreadlocks. “You are one sly dog.”

Louis pulled himself free, only laughing due to his ticklish nature. “Now now Marlon. I promise you’ll be the first to know when we get engaged.”

Marlon’s pale ears perked up at hearing such a statement. “What do you mean ‘when you get engaged’?”

“What I mean is,” Louis open his door yet hung out in the cold, looking down the road that Clementine drove down, grin as wide and bright as the Cheshire Cat. “I’m gonna marry her someday.”

#twdg #the walking dead game #twdgs4 #clementine twdg #the walking dead season four #louis twdg #clouis #louisentine #fanfiction #xscullyx

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queenslasharchive · 5 years

Text

Fathoms Below

Features: Anderson’s Little Mermaid and Jolly Sailor Bold by Disney

Merry Christmas!!! @matcha-maru

“Upon one summer’s morning,

I carefully did stray

Down by the Walls of Wapping,

Where I met a sailor gay.

Conversing with a young lass

Who seemed to be in pain,

Saying, William, when you go

I fear you’ll ne'er return again.”

Brian woke up, when he felt a small hand tug sharply at the end of his curled ponytail.

It was his one vanity, sea-foam green in color and always intricately braided back with ribbons and sea-glass or fragile shells, anything pretty and decorative that the strands could hold. Currently it was tossed over one shoulder, long and thick as a fist.

And the next time that little hand reached for his braid, he caught it deftly without a second thought, thanks to the inborn reflexes of an apex predator, quickly recognizing the rough callouses from holding a drumstick on the pads of the fingers. Along with the gnarled little scar on the thumb web, a memento from a bad run in with some fishing-line when they were children.

“Angel, why the hair? Why must you always go for the hair?”

He didn’t even need to look over, or even open his eyes, to see his lover pouting in bed beside him, their love-nest illuminated by the foggy window, torrential rain was falling outside, the smell of Roger and rainstorm was heavenly, better than any of the scented candles Freddie would drag in and light up in the flat.

For the ambience, darling!

The delicate hand he still held by the wrist, twisted into a familiar vulgar gesture.

“Yes, Roger. I love you too,” He yawned, showing all his teeth, naturally asserting dominance over the boy he’d loved for just about all of his life.

“Brimi, you’ve been sleeping forever.” Ah, yes, the bitching to remind him that his lover was eternally five years old.

He grunted an affirmative, he had been sleeping forever.

Roger could have said a million other things and Brian would have happily agreed for five seconds more peace. The only thing that spurned his wakefulness was the heavy weight that Roger laid on his chest. A wrapped parcel.

He blinked open his mismatched eyes to see the blonde looking at him with the most impish smile, biting at the corners of his mouth in excitement. “Happy Anniversary, Ariel.”

Inside was a book, but not just any book.

It was a beautiful copy of Anderson’s fairytales, the kind with a fat embossed cover and words that seemed to come off of the page, pictures etched by hand, from old ink-wells and feather quills.

“Rog, its beautiful.” He gasped, it practically took his breath away. He didn’t even mind the silly nickname. “Would you like me to read you something?”

The devilish blonde nodded into the guitarist’s narrow pigeon chest, like that was what he’d wanted all along, his ear resting just over Brian’s heart, lulled by the sound of the beat as his current pillow was so often lulled by the lapping waves of the sea.

Sometimes Brian wondered how it was possible to love someone so much. To be happy to watch your heart live outside of your body. To be resigned to the fact that you would never, ever be enough for them. That you would never ever deserve them.

“Far out in the ocean, where the water is as blue as the prettiest cornflower, and as clear as crystal, it is very, very deep; so deep, indeed, that no cable could fathom it: many church steeples, piled one upon another, would not reach from the ground beneath to the surface of the water above. There dwell the Sea King and his subjects…"

Rog snored a little in his sleep, snorting like a piglet, and Brian couldn’t keep the fond smile off of his face.

‘“When you have reached your fifteenth year,” said the grandmother, “you will have permission to rise up out of the sea, to sit on the rocks in the moonlight, while the great ships are sailing by; and then you will see both forests and towns.”’

Bri slowly slipped his own thick red bracelet off his wrist, a small clunky chain, with one hand and squeezed it tightly until it was a thick red blanket, one that he tucked securely around the both of them. His cohuleen druith. His soul. The mark of a Merrow. One who would always belong to the sea.

“At last she reached her fifteenth year. “Well, now, you are grown up,” said the old dowager, her grandmother; “so you must let me adorn you like your other sisters;” and she placed a wreath of white lilies in her hair, and every flower leaf was half a pearl. Then the old lady ordered eight great oysters to attach themselves to the tail of the princess to show her high rank.

“But they hurt me so,” said the little mermaid.

“Pride must suffer pain,” replied the old lady.“

Then as if he’d thought better of the change, the blanket melted away, until it became a sold tiny ring that nearly fell into the crevice between them.

Its base was a twisted circulatory system, redder than the most glittering garnet, deeper than the most ravishing ruby, all of the tendrils curling in towards the center, where an enormous creamy white pearl rested.

Pearls that size were only found in the deepest, darkest and most treacherous parts of the sea. No mortal bride would ever have a pearl that big. No one but his Roger, who deserved so much more than Brian could ever give him.

He slipped it onto Roger’s hand as delicately as he could, kissing the blonde halo of hair that he had known for most of his creation.

“Happy Anniversary, my prince.” My love.

-X-

Freddie asked how they’d met once, as he and Deaky had sat huddled on the couch.

Brian and Roger had been wrapped around each other as always, lying on the floor in a heap, practically nose to nose. Simply existing in each other’s presence as they were wont to do.

“You know what I’ve always wondered? How did you two meet, darlings? Was it love at first sight? Lust?”

Instead of rolling his robin-egg eyes, Roger had flashed that same wicked gremlin grin of his.

“At the beach when we were kids. So I’m not sure I wanted into his trousers quite yet.” His voice turned wistful as his tongue peeked out of the corner of his round lips. “Although it certainly didn’t take very long.”

All joking aside, Roger had only been five years old then, running rampant in Truro, the tiny little fishing port that it was. Small, homely.

He had known his way around the stones and rocky shoals of the local beaches like the back of his hand, even back then. And so was often left to play there alone.

The feckless child had wandered too close one day however, just after a storm, a frightening squall, when the beach was fraught with debris and danger, the shoreline was slick and the waters dark and murky.

Hiding the remnants of ships smashed to bits, and he likely would’ve died on the jagged rocks that peppered the wide-open breaks, if a long webbed hand hadn’t stopped him in his descent.

The hand had belonged to an older boy sitting up on the aforementioned rocks, who had managed to snag the back of the untucked and oversized school uniform shirt that Roger wore, with his predatory reflexes.

Having done so, only seconds before the blonde would’ve met an untimely end in the watery depths below.

Fathoms below.

Roger had whimpered softly at the sensation of it all, sniffling more so out of shock than fear, as the youth gently placed him into a little dip, an alcove on the rock’s side.

“That wasn’t very smart.” Brian had sighed, clucking over the bright red blood that welled up from a small gash on the young drummer’s knee.

Running on the slopes like a little fool.

Rather lacklusterly, he’d mopped at it with the corner of the bright and violently red hoodie he wore.

But Roger had paid no mind at all to his battle wound and was far more interested in gawking at his odd-looking savior.

Brian, long before he had introduced himself as being so, long before his name even was so, with his long wet hair that hung in tangles around his round face and trailed far down his back, green of all things, was certainly a sight for sore eyes.

His hair was green like the seaweed that stunk in the hot summer’s sun and washed up in clots on the sand.

His pale hands were webbed between the first-knuckle, as were the toes on his flat feet, and his shining eyes were strange.

Two completely different colors, one was the beautiful blue-green color of splashing sea-foam, of playful days spent in the surf, the other was so dark blue-violet that it was like the sea during a tempest, fierce and frightening, a warning to all who dared come close.

Rog had cried out then, not at Brian’s odd appearance, but because the salty water pressed into his aching knee stung like St. Elmo’s Fire.

He flinched away from the tsking youth, who hummed a soft apology. “It’s a natural disinfectant. But you’ll want your Mum to take a better look when you get home.”

Roger’s Mum had always been a special kind of woman. (It was she who would adopt Brian as her own, when he finally came from the water and chased her cruel husband away).

An inquisitive girl even as a grown woman, full of freckles playing peekaboo on her exposed shoulders and impossibly red tresses that curled up and around her like the embers of a dying flame.

As a child she’d so eagerly swam with the seals that basked on the shoals of the beaches, near her sleepy little village home.

And would often nap on the sunbaked windswept hills near the cliffs, once the day’s play was done.

As a little girl she’d believed in the old stories and songs that permeated everyday life there, like an invisible presence, a gentle fleeting touch of old.

At night, she listened for the banshee’s wailing cries, and tried to catch a glimpse of a dullahan on his glossy black steed. She could recite the tales of Lir’s Swan Children and the Tuatha Dé Danann who made their home in Tír na nÓg, the land without time.

But above all else, Rachel, whose Gaelic name was Muirín ‘born of the sea’, was a child of the surf and sky.

It was her second home and her father often joked, fluffing her red curls with his calloused hands of fishhook and twine, that she would marry a Selkie and have half-seal babies one day.

He was wrong.

The man she married was a cruel cold man of the earth, who treated her like silt beneath his boots and little more than a dirty maid.

Yet she bore him one son, born with his sandy locks and her face.

She would run into the crashing crystal blue surf with her baby boy perched on one hip and he would shriek and cling to her curls with joy. And eventually with the years, he grew to be big enough that they could run in and jump out together.

The man she married slowly stole the life from her body, the song in her soul.

Eventually she simply collapsed on the beach outside their cottage in the middle of the night, crying desperately, desolately into the sand.

Screaming for something, someone, begging.

The pockets of her dress were loaded down with cowrie shells and other heavy island debris, her long red curls rocked with the waves of the ocean that swallowed her up. Swirling, twirling russet-red.

But she didn’t drown. Her son was not left without a mother.

She woke up with a mouthful of sand and a pair of vivid mismatched eyes just inches away from her own.

He stayed.

So she was unafraid of leaving her child unattended in the surf.

Muirín Taylor was a woman who grew up with the spirits of Ireland dwelling safely in her heart.

She was unfairly hurt and wronged by a life that she shouldn’t have lived in the first place. The poor girl eventually gave up and forgot the old ways of her once vibrant world, but they never forgot her.

When she cried, the ocean listened.

When her son cried, the ocean listened.

Brian sat on his rocky perch and waited, listening.

Then the little drummer boy noticed that the red hoodie was all that the older boy wore.

“Where are your clothes?!"

Brian had simply shrugged, tossing back his hair and batting those unforgettable eyes.

“I don’t need any underneath the water.”

Roger still hadn’t picked up on the strangeness of it all. It would be years still, before he saw the bloody red tail that could cut through the surf like butter, the scales far sharper than daggers that glittered in the moonlight, the predatory teeth and slitted eyes, made for tracing the movement of appetizing prey. The true apex predators of the deep.

"You live in the water?"

Brian had nodded.

"On a boat?"

The mismatched eyes creased slightly when he frowned, and then he’d just shaken his head to the contrary.

"No, not on a boat.” An obliging smile graced his wind-chapped lips as he finished the makeshift bandage. “You should be heading home though, this place is not safe for your kind, especially not for one so young."

It was far more than the suggestion that his soft tone alluded to, it was a warning.

Now Roger may have only been a child then, but he was a child who knew the sound of angry voices and the touch of violent hands.

Perhaps even better than the gentle and soothing ones that he had always craved. His father was not a patient man, and he felt even less inclined to give favor to a son who had still shown no promise at anything of value.

Roger had been beaten senseless many times, and for an instant, he feared that the boy on the rocks with his too-sharp teeth and strange eyes may do the same.

As if Brian had been the same sort of monster that Roger had come to fear.

Then, just as he was standing once more, hunger pangs hit him sharply and his stomach let out a growl that just wouldn’t be stifled.

He was mortified, sick, by the loud sound and flinched away, wrapping his hands tightly around his concave middle and waiting for the angry hands and yells that would often follow such rudeness.

But none came.

Only the gentle concerned eyes of the boy Brian was, who seemed to realize the true extent of the younger child’s plight before him, within the same breath.

Webbed pale hands helped Roger to sit down once more.

"Sit. Stay."

Twin orders, that would most assuredly be followed, before Brian stood upright, balanced in a single graceful motion and dove into the frothing waters below.

Roger thought he saw a hint of something red and shiny, perhaps even a fin, but it soon left his field of vision before he could see properly.

When the older boy returned it was with four fat fish being tossed up onto the rock-face, before he climbed there as well. Green hair flying haphazard with the wind and his red hoodie sticking to his skin as if loathe to leave it.

Three of the still-quivering fish were pushed towards Roger, while one was seized by Brian himself and a mouthful of flesh torn away, revealing shock-white bone and dripping entrails.

He swallowed the chunk whole and even licked his lips before foisting the messy carcass into Roger’s hesitant little hands, as if expecting the child to do the same.

Abject horror was plain as day on the little one’s face.

"Oh.” It seemed to dawn on the older boy then as well. “You cook fish."

The blonde child nodded vehemently, and was quick to hand the masticated fish back with a grimace.

Brian reclaimed it with another little laugh, devouring the rest with a terrifying speed and ferocity that almost brought back Roger’s original fear, or would have, if it hadn’t been belied by the funny faces the green-haired beanpole kept making to assuage them.

He then softly instructed the younger boy on how to hold the three fish all at once, to transport them safely back to his family.

Roger and Rachel would eat well for one night at least.

The odd youth guided the tiny boy away from the broken rocks and back onto the dry land.

And surely would’ve left right then, but Roger, as if expecting such an escape, had hastily seized a small webbed hand within two of his own.

“What’s your name?"

Brian had paused for a moment, before almost sighing the word, ”Muirgeilt.“ Sea-wanderer.

"That’s a pretty name… But I can’t really say it properly. Do you have another one? I’m Roger Meddows Taylor.” So proud of it. Like he'd practiced saying it aloud with conviction.

A small sad smile graced the elder’s lips.

"It is very nice to meet you, Roger. You can call me whatever you’d like.”

”…If I come back tomorrow, with a name, will you be here?“ Pleading eyes.

Brian turned his head slightly, angled towards the ocean as if called by some silent siren song. One hand touching the place where Roger’s blood had seeped into his red hoodie.

"Yes, I will be." Forever it seems.

And he was.

“Yeah.” Brian smiled, years upon years later, slowly eskimo-kissing the love of his life, who still rested in his arms. What a wonderful thing, to be able to hold one’s whole world.

“At the beach when we were kids.”

-X-

“My sailor is as smiling

As the pleasant month of May

And often we have wandered

Through Ratcliffe Highway…

My heart is pierced by Cupid

I disdain all glittering gold

There is nothing can console me

But my jolly sailor bold.”

#maylor #deacury #submission #au #brian: merman #relationship: established #fic #secret santa gifts

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au-mashup-party · 8 months

Note

*Sooo who thought it was a good idea to knock out our kids gold tooth?

*Yes he had it when he was created into reality dammit

Future timeskip??

#carmine!sans #fell x ruby red ship child #ut ship #undertale au #undertale multiverse #utmv #fell #ruby red #rubyfell #undertale blog #fell au

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lokikingofasgardslover713 · 5 years

Text

Judas Kiss {Oneshot}

Masterlist

Loki Laufeyson x Jotunn Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Angst

Summary: This is my entry for @marvelandotherfandomimagines writing challenge! The reader and Loki have an established relationship. Loki stumbled across the reader when she was traversing between Jotunheim and Asgard, the god having taken to her when he realized she was nothing but a Jotun slave. The intrigue of finding her had Loki deciding she was to be brought to Asgard so that he could assure she was safe from her own people.

A/N: (Before the events of Thor) We pick up after Ragnarok and before the invasion of the Statesman from Sakaar to Midgard. This is my first time writing first person, a thing that I usually do not do. I hope this is coherent and not a complete and utter train wreck!

Thank you to @starscreamloki for the help!

Prompt: 76.) “So, this is what betrayal feels like.” in bold

Words: +2,600

I always have seen through his disguises, his lies, but… he was telling the truth this time. This must be what betrayal feels like. My chest kept growing tighter and tighter. Vision going red the longer I kept focus on Loki and the story he was spouting about Thanos, the attack on New York, the Tesseract. His words still droning on about what this meant for not just the entire ship and what was left of the people of Asgard, but of the relationship between us or in this case, what we once had.

My fist were balled so tight my short nails cut into my palms. All of the sudden I felt as if I was in too close of a proximity to the son of a bitch. Teeth clenched so tight they were about to shatter, deciding it was a good idea to nip at my lip with fangs that threatened to rip his throat out if he looked at me one more time.

Oh gods, this was real, he had… how had he kept this hidden for so long? Had he gotten better at it? Or was I just that naive, that desperate to believe we were all right? That we were going to make it out of the recent Hel intact and have a fucking life? What was happening?

Nervously my mind paced as my body remained stock still beside of the one known as Hulk, the giant beast shifting nervously next to me - I didn’t realize it at the time it was my mood that was affecting him. The shuffling must have gotten Loki’s attention because it wasn’t long before his gaze fell on me. It made my skin crawl. Those emerald orbs I had once loved to feel dancing over my thick curves even when bare before him made me lock his gaze, my own boring into his soul, wishing to burn him from the inside out.

The god, the arrogant bastard he was, made a move to step towards me which made everyone else turn to focus on me. All of the sudden I was self-conscious of all focus on me, the only ones in the room where myself, Loki, Thor, Heimdall, Hulk, and the Valkyrie Brunnhilde, but why were they? Cold wetness sliding down my cheek told me why, forcefully I reached up to wipe it away.

“Are we done here,” I snarled.

Yes, it was meant that hate filled, that vicious and aimed at Loki. A quiet nod from Thor confirming it as I didn’t hesitate to turn and leave, the Valkyrie at my back sure to give me room. Choosing to ignore to the voice speaking to my subconscious, shutting him out completely as I hurried to our shared quarters.

The grumbling under my breath keeping me sane. I suppose, while jerking what had been salvaged from Asgard into a canvas pouch before hurrying out to the cargo hold of the ship. It may be cold but like it really mattered.

A quick look down the corridor telling me he was still occupied with details of the evacuation but didn’t mean I couldn’t start getting the few escape pods readied with supplies. The least I could do for the people of Asgard since concealing the fact the All-father had been hidden on Midgard in a rest home, while I enjoyed my time with the Loki I thought dead.

The Loki I thought I loved. The one that left a cold ache in my suddenly frozen heart. It left me wishing I had never allowed him to coax be back from Jotunheim when I had begun to make my way back through the mountain pass that held a doorway no one knew of but me.

I was shocked the old All-father had approved of me coming to Asgard. Surprised Odin kept my secret from Thor and I was allowed to follow Loki. The only thing stated to me staying in the realm was to hide my heritage but that was understood.

What hopes of survival could a Jotunn slave have in a realm of Aesir, a runt at that. Though it was all revealed why it was allowed when the old king fell into the Odinsleep. It was a shock, but it made since why I was allowed to pursue Loki, he was Jotunn. There was no harm in hurting one of my own.

A jarring of the craft brought me out of the little pity party I was throwing to realize we were under attack.

“Shit,” my voice rasped out to the open cold of the cargo bay.

Throwing the bag in my hand to the floor as I reached into it to pull out the twin swords that had been mine to use on Asgard. Losing no time to throw the belts over my shoulders to latch them quickly as another explosion rocked the ship causing me to stumble slightly. Regaining my balance to hurry towards the doors that opened to the ship to be bombarded by evacuees.

Immediately I ordered them to board the escape pods. Locating one of the gladiators that had survived the battle, making sure he knew to get all he could onboard, taking off around the people to see where else I could help but froze. In the chaos that seemed to still my gaze locked on none other than that bastard Loki.

Shaking my head, I cleared my mind. Pushing forward through the panic, ignoring him. Thrusting past Loki but the bruising, burning cold grip on my bicep made me stop to meet angered gaze. Harshly I was jerked into the room that we were next to.

Not knowing when to shut up, I cursed the god with every breath. Drawing a blade as he forced our heritage to show. The door slamming shut as he disarmed me and slammed my body against it, crimson gaze meeting my own.

“Y/N STOP,” Loki growled in my face.

The tone chilled me to the core for once, he had never taken this cold of a tone with me. A fire burning in ruby orbs as he bared his teeth, making me do the same before I began to snarl back at him.

“I should have gone back to Jotunheim! Back to my master! She would have whipped me, placed me in the breeding pen to learn my lesson but at least…,” I tried to growl just as hatefully back but it earned me another slam into the door to stop me. “Just like a Jotun male! Doing what he feels will shut up a female! You're all beast all…”

“That is enough! I never told you to protect you from him! From Thanos! If he ever knew of you, how I care for you… you have to leave with Brunnhilde. Get on the craft and help our people survive! Is that understood,” Loki snarled in my face.

Both keeping our blue tint, the air cold and freezing around us as his hands gripped bruises and making me squirm. This was the first time he had truly hurt me.

“I…I…Loki, I just can’t abandon you,” I finally whispered. Loki must have realized he was hurting me because his grip loosened yet he did not let go.

Who the fuck was I kidding, I wasn’t about to leave him to face this alone. I was a glutton for the pain, the punishment.

His crimson orbs glittered in the dim light as he searched my face as I done the same worriedly. Loki had forgotten I could feel his fear as the ship rocked again, mouth opening to protest but in an instant his lips were on mine. The hands on my biceps releasing so I could wrap my arms around his cool neck to pull flush. The cold between us a welcome sensation as he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around my waist to pull me tighter.

“It will be OK my little snowflake,” his lips ghosted over mine as we parted, both gazing into each other’s crimson orbs that burned like firebrands, “go help Brunnhilde, take the craft, get everyone to safety. Thor and I will be along shortly.”

“You're lying Loki. I want leave you, not like this,” my voice rasped as he released one arm to lace deep blue fingers into my hair, my eyes going wide. I knew what he was getting ready to do as I shook my head for him to stop, pleading with him not to, trying to fight him. But I am too young, to inexperienced with my seidr, though it was powerful I still lacked the discipline as I held tight to him.

“No, no, please don’t,” my voice quivered, cursing myself for sniveling like a child. My seidr fighting his for control over my own body, a losing battle as I felt it coursing over my nerves like cold fire, numbing every ending as it went. “Loki, stop.”

“I will find you, and we will have us a beautiful place on Midgard. Away from all this. You will be safe, cared for, no more lies, I promise my queen,” was the last words I heard pass his lips. Loki had taken my hearing, but was allowing me one last look, one last memory of him before I was to never see him again.

This was his goodbye. My eyes fluttering shut to the vision of a home in the middle of a clearing, nothing for as far as the eye could see but open fields and a tree line in a distance. I could feel my lips still moving as I was bombarded by this vision, having made up my mind to fight this until my last breath. No way was I going to let him suffer this alone, not when I had cursed Loki like I had, but the moment he had me, the moment my body finally shut down I heard him speak one last time.

“I love you Y/N. Care for you more than you know. You will survive and that is enough for me to carry through with saving us all,” was the last words his voice spoke, before silence took over my being to plunge my senses into nothingness.

Silence for what felt like an eternity trapped in darkness. A freezing cold darkness that made me wonder if I was back in Jotunheim, if I was back with my mistress who had handed me over to the breeders, but the metal digging into my ribs told me no. Nothing metal on Jotunheim existed without having a layer of ice over it. A low rumble around me, a jerk of my arm making having disoriented body sitting up, gasping for air while folding my legs under me. Sensing I wasn’t alone with no clue who was around me and scared shitless when someone dropped next to me.

My body jolted hard as hands grabbed my shoulders to keep me from falling back into the panel behind me. The sharp edge would have surely cut my head open and in this addled state I wasn’t sure it would be beneficial as I finally focused on the one before me.

“Brunnhilde,” my hoarse voice gasped out, realizing it felt as if I hadn’t been breathing as the Valkyrie jerked me to my feet to slam me back into a white padded seat.The action had me cringing at how harshly she flung my muddled body into it.

“Thank the gods! I thought Loki had killed you,” the Valkyrie spoke worriedly, come to think of it my head spun, and stomach lurched.

“Loki,” I gasped when I found my voice, meeting the warriors cognac gaze, knowing I could trust Brunnhilde to be honest.

“The ships destroyed. You’ve been out for over a week… we had a transmission from Thor…,” she began to explain. I knew what was next, soul in denial as I pushed the bronze warrior away to get to feet that had to yet regain their feeling and fumbling at the controls to… to…

“I don’t know,” I uttered, falling into the pilot seat.

My clean hand hovered over the controls to pull up the last communication that had to have been Thor. Swallowing hard, cursing Loki for lying to me, hands balling into a tight fist to smash the control but tanned fingers wrapped around them to pull them to cross over my chest. The Valkyries arms wrapping around me, pining me back into the chair as her head laid to my shoulder.

“We are on our way to Midgard. The people are safely behind us. You did what Loki asked. You survived. We are going to make this right, but our job isn’t done and that means you continue to survive. I am here to make sure that happens. It is my duty and I will see it through,” the Valkyrie spoke into my ear, evident Loki had spoken with Brunnhilde about the matter, my body going limp in the seat for her to finally release me and take the other seat.

“We are less than 30 minutes from earth,” the Valkyrie spoke, my chest aching as Loki’ last words bounced in my skull.

My head beginning to ache, at least until that part of me shut down. Trading my Aesir form for the Jotunn. It was fitting since my soul began to harden, spreading from the ache in my chest while I gazed off into the blackness, crimson orbs picking up on the blue orb far away.

“Hey, you with me,” Brunhilde called out making me cock my head at the warrior that hinted to the change in the hue of once Aesir skin, calmly I nodded to her that I was indeed with her.

“Yeah. I'm done hiding,” I admitted, “there is no longer any reason for the waste of seidr to keep up the appearance. Don’t worry, I want burn anyone if they touch me.”

Damn, my voice was dead, but the Valkyrie nodded to me before going back to the controls. If anyone knew how I felt, what I was going through, it was her. Brunnhilde would know the emptiness, the hollow used up and damned feeling of a shattered soul.

“When we reach Midgard, I want you by my side in this fight. You are the only one I trust to have my back”’ was all Brunnhilde spoke the rest of the trip, my mind turning over what it meant.

Was this a ploy to keep me from doing anything stupid? Or did she truly trust me? A look over to the warrior had me noting the readout from the ships trailing behind us. Something looked off about them, the pods weren’t full so to say, how was that so?

“You have to leave with Brunnhilde, get on the craft and help our people survive! Is that understood,” Loki’ words cut through my thoughts like a hot blade. Forcing my eyes shut to stop the flow of tears threatening to spill while taking in a ragged breath. This would have to be enough for now, see myself through this, opening crimson clear orbs to gaze over to the Valkyrie.

“Understood. I’ll fight by your side until neither of us has breath left. Is that enough,” my voice spoke calmly, some life edging back in as she smiled at me, cognac orbs sparking with fight.

“Aye, that is enough,” Brunnhilde spoke, holding her hand out for me to place a blue lined one in hers to grasp it firmly.

Yeah, this was my place no. The fire igniting in my chest, this is what I was born to do, this was what I needed to do before I could enter Hel with my head held high and claim my rightful place at Loki’ side.

Tags open! And re-blogs are ALWAYS welcomed!

Tags: @dark-night-sky-99 @prettybubblesintheair @gramaeryebard @reallyheckinggay @jovanna-shewolf @andiyholly @katstablook @nickyl316h @beets1bears1battlestargalactica @aslandia726 @moonfaery @furstinnajoelle @itsbqueenthings @lookwhatyoumademequeue

@whovianwookie86-captainxev@jazzieomega @tomhardy41 @get-loki @drakonwild

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #loki #loki (marvel)#loki x you #loki x reader #loki x plus size reader #loki x oc

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ouroboros-panacea · 5 years

Text

Stone [石头]-Decompose-[1/?]

Summary: [JJBA x HNK] "Phosphophyllite, my name is Phosphophyllite." Such is your useless life, no matter how many changes you make, how strong you become. Your life will still simply be a tragedy, and you, forever useless. The tale of a gem who suffered because of change, and an ancient being who wanted to change. An odd friendship it'd be. Rebirth seems more like a curse than anything. It would be nice if this didn't end with tragedy. {Disclaimer- I don't own hnk or jjba}

-----

Ah.

It's so bright, and so...cold.

Is it winter now?

Winter? What's that?

I can't....remember. But, why does it hurt so much when I think of "Winter"?

Wh-who am I?

Phos...Phosphophyllite?

Is that my name?

(I'm breaking, cracking, leaking)

It hurts.

It hurts so much.

It...it....I....

Can't....go back.

To how everything was, right?

That isn't how life works.

Ah.

If only I could have....just....one...more....chance.

If only.....

Is this "Death"?

Is this what it feels like?

It's....horrible. I feel so.....

Cold.

It's going dark again.

I wonder what will happen to me?

I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise.

Promise?

What promise? To whom?

No matter.

It doesn't matter anymore.....right?

Nothing will matter anymore if I just.

Close.

My.

Eyes....

On that day, the living example of Theseus's ship broke, and a small, mint-haired child fell.

She fell.

And tumbled.

And fell.

Snapping twigs, scratching arms alike. Leaving dribbling, glistening ruby red lines. Still though, she stayed unconscious, sleeping with the stillness of the dead.

Crashing from the treetops, she was thrown down from the heavens, into a bed of wilted, grotesque flowers.

What a beautiful combination of reds, pinks and... oh.

Was that an arm I spy?

With my empty little eyes?

My apologies, you twisted pile of cold human limbs. I nearly forgot to mention you. Yes, you who play a part in the beautiful shades of reds and pinks. Sadly though, I cannot account for your smell.

Decaying bodies are strewn about the bed of flowers, in which the sleeping princess lies. Almost like a scene from "Sleeping Beauty", don't you think?

Now all we need is a prince.

Right?

Trudging through the dark forest was a young, purple haired child.

The night was quiet; only slivers of moonlight shone through treetops. But it was no big deal to him. It wasn't like he was a weak, frail human anyways.

A sudden thud, accompanied by the crunch of dry leaves, alerted him to the fact that he was not alone.

Perhaps it could've just been another animal, as he saw no light in the direction of the sound. But he could not smell the scent of an animal. He only smelled.... minerals, ore and a pungent smell of rotting carcasses.

That...was strange.

Normally, the smell of bodies would completely overpower anything else. Yet, it seemed that this time, the minerals and ore were the "victors".

How intriguing.

Perhaps he could observe this, it at least find out the cause. Better to know more than regret not having done so in his later years.

He had to find out what or who it was, no matter what.

Gold alloy trickled down the masses of half melted limbs and torsos, as if it was searching for something.

It slithered between the nooks and crannies, rubbing over the dried fluids and such, until it came across a few shards of mint-green phosphophyllite.

Immediately, it stopped, and thin tendrils of alloy snaked across the bumpy surface and wrapped around those very shards. They held the minerals in an almost indecisive manner, as if it couldn't chose between shattering them into a million pieces, or returning the gems to the body lying right behind it.

In the end, it decided to go back to it's body, putting the shards back in it's rightful place, with soft clinks coming from the shards. The alloy acting as a temporary glue, helping it's "body" come together as one whole.

The strangest part though, was when the shards were placed one by one, the skin would smoothen out, leaving no signs of the body ever having any missing pieces.

No sign of them of ever having minerals for flesh.

When it's job was done, it would disappear, leaving the child behind.

But the night was still young, and in no way was it's project completed.

Silently stalking through the forest, he took care not to alert anything or anyone in the forest.

Not that the humans would be awake at this ungodly hour.

Strangely, he lost track the uniquely powerful scent a while ago. It frustrated him, but still he was determined to find the source of this possible anomaly.

Hearing a quiet rustling from , accompanied by staccato clicks and pings, he stopped in his tracks.

Clearly, there were now other trails that led to the same smell.

He raised an eyebrow in question, whilst a faint smirk curled upon him lips.

It was the exact same smell, no mistaking it.

Taking a step forward, he opened his mouth to greet the "newcomer".

Until an ear-piercing scream stopped in in his tracks.

Phosphophyllite opened her eyes, and found herself in an unfamiliar area. Where did all the trees come from? Last time she checked, she was still on the......

On....

Where?

She couldn't remember.

But she could remember one name.

Antarcticite.

The name alone sent shivers down her spine, and an overwhelming urge to break something, anything.

Herself would also suffice.

It made her feel like she was on the verge of breaking apart to the sheer loss she felt from the name.

That name felt like the most important thing in a sea of jumbled memories and promises. Of ice floes, silvery mercury, a large figure dressed in Buddhist robes and two white haired individuals, each unique in their own way, who were together yet apart.

Yet it was not as painful as the thought of "Antarcticite".

The soft light of the moon seemed to only drown her further into the tempting thought of crushing herself in to itty-bitty bits, it's glorious shine reminding her of a phrase spoken a long time ago. She didn't know who said it, or where it was said.

But she hated it. Hated the moon and everything it stood for in her hazy mind.

Hated it with with a fiery passion.

Those blazing feelings clogged her throat with a rising taste of metallic bile clawing it's way through. Choking her with a vice-like grip.

Her left eye hurt, feeling as if something was penetrating the fragile gem. She tried to ease the throbbing pain as she brought a hand to her face, attempting to gently massage it through the eyelid. Curiously, nothing was there, nothing in her eye at all. It still hurt though. Shifting her legs slightly, soft squelches were suddenly heard, while her other hand felt something soft, squishy.

Then the smell hit her.

The godawful smell...that came from below.

With wide eyes, she looked down at the carnage beneath her.

She was met with a twisted wreath of limbs and torsos, all having open wounds that leaked maggots from crusted edges of dried blood and pus.

With Phosphophyllite herself sitting in the very center, a mockery of a monarch sitting upon their throne.

It was...filthy.

What was this....whatever it was. Certainly nothing pleasant.

She didn't like it. But it intrigued her.

Who on Earth would be doing such a time consuming task like this?

But.

She found herself with only one clear question in mind.

Where was she?

Clearly nowhere she knew of.

Attempting to get herself off this abomination, she tried to push herself off the dirty, wet surface. Gripping half revealed bones and ripped up muscle, she turned herself over and nearly fell flat on her face in the process. Thank goodness she was fast enough to plant both arms on a "sturdy surface" before she did so.

It was as if her legs forgot how to walk or stand.

Then she heard her wrists fracture.

Curiosity overtook her, forcing her to look at the no longer flawless skin. There were thin cracks to see, and when phosphophyllite pushed herself up to stand on her two shaking legs, they dropped both small and large crystals of her namesake. The shiny mint green almost impossible to miss.

When she tried to move them.

They fell off.

Leading to another observer to gasp at this anomaly.

Causing a chain reaction.

She saw white. Blinding beautiful clear white. Like ice floes. It reminded her of them.

What were ice floes?

Oh, right. Nothing good. They weren't good at all.

Gold and platinum mixed together, meshing into a combination of the two, the colour a golden white. It splashed down from her arms, seeping through from the cracks. Reaching out for the fallen pieces of her body.

Her eyes widened with surprise, yet a sense of familiarity washed over. Telling her it was nothing new.

The alloy slotted itself into the tiny openings inside her broken hands and pulled them back onto her wrist like puppeteer strings with a woosh,clink and clack. Like a trained embroiderer, it weaved in and out of her "skin", fixing any blemishes and irregularities.

Now.

Where was she?

Oh.

An observer. Looking so much like.

Like...

B...o..r..t?

Who was that?

Were they important?

The name vanished as quickly as it came.

Oh well. Maybe next time. Right?

The sound of another drew her attention.

Tumbling out of the bushes, a young boy stared at her with horror in his eyes. Mouth set into a scream, yet no sound could be heard. He landed on his knees and stared at her as if she was death itself.

Cold sweat ran down his forehead like tears, made his palms clammy and sticky. His entire body shook with absolute terror.

That green haired girl was a monster.

Was she the one who slaughtered them all? All those who had gone missing in the forest, never to come back was because of her? Was she responsible for this macabre sculpture?

Looking at her odd appendages, even more fear clouded his mind. Cowardice tempting him to run, run far away from this-this thing.

Then she turned to look at him with dull, dull eyes.

A piercing scream ripped from his throat.

How annoying.

Now that was definitely another one of them humans.

He'd have to get rid of that boy.

Screaming?

Why was he screaming?

"H-hey, why are you...?" She tried to ask, staggering towards the... squishier version of her. She supposed.

She only got a choked cough in return, a face as white as a sheet.

Dark brown eyes stared up at her.

She tried again

"Ar-aren't we the...s-same?" Words came out with slight difficulty. An expression of confusion on her face.

Finally, he spoke.

"I'm not the same as you. You, you murderer!"

Murderer? What did that mean? Was he talking about the pile of squishy things? Did he think...that she did it?

No, no. She couldn't take credit for someone else's work.

She opened her mouth again to tell him the truth. But before she could.

He flopped down as he suddenly became rubber. As it fell, she could see purple.

Purple.

She saw purple.

Purple hair, that is.

Then a finger, which led to the smirking face of a victor.

"My my, what do we have here?"

Covered in nothing but a loincloth, a boy with messy, curly purple hair appeared. He seemed to be the same age as her.

Or perhaps not. He emitted an aura that told her he was much likely older than he seemed.

Could he tell her where she was?

He stepped over the deflated corpse. With a few strides he stood in front of Phosphophyllite, staring down at her.

Name, he needed a name first before she could ask.

"What's your name?" An abrupt question. It didn't catch him of guard. Though it was certainly interesting how she didn't seem to recognize him for what kind of race he was from. It looked like she wasn't from this place. Perhaps he'd give her his name.

Let's see what happens.

"Kars. My name is Kars."

The beginning came from the end. She'd remember one day.

An unlikely friendship.

-Chapter one end-

#houseki no kuni #fanfic #crossover #idk #phosphophyllite #phos #kars #jjba #jojo no kimyō na bōken #battle tendancy #wammu #santana #esidisi

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plasmaliri · 6 years

Note

4, 6, 8, 50?

Meme can be found here

4. How tall are you?

Okay first of all, r00d. Second of all I’m 157 cm which is almost 5″2′ ヾ(`ヘ´)ﾉﾞfight me(I still love you)

Surprise, surprise, muse is same height as mun, down to the centimetre! Yes, Liri is 157 cm! Actually I just headcanon her to have all of the same measurements as her faceclaim because I’m lazy.

6. Any tattoos do you want?

Funny story, actually. I was supposed to get a stick-and-poke tattoo by a friend of the Virgo constellation on my ankle to cover some things up, but we never got around to it (although he did do a tattoo on a different friend that read “Deus es machina” or something like that). Honestly I’m pretty glad I procrastinated it in the end because I could never make up my mind fully. For now I kinda wanna get red string of fate tattoo on my pinky that looks like this but at the same time I’d need a “fated” partner and I feel like it wouldn’t look that good in a couple of years.

“Oh, um, I really wanted to get a Plasma crest tattoo at one point on my shoulder blade. But considering how the whole team fell apart, I don’t want that anymore. I don’t think I want a tattoo in general. If I actually had to choose I think I’d get a tattoo of Purrsephone on my shoulder?”

8. OTP?

Which fandom? Also SpecialShipping. I spent most of grade 10 fawning over the ship and going through images on google with them and writing bad fanfictions that I luckily don’t have access to anymore. I mean look at them. Red is Yellow’s senpai and he’s completely oblivious how his reactions are making her feel AND I CAN’T EVEN.And don’t get me started on FranticShipping. I love it but it makes me so angry. RUBY WHY TF ARE YOU PRETENDING LIKE YOU NEVER ADMITTED YOUR FEELINGS TO SAPPHIRE. WHY ARE YOU HURTING HER LIKE THIS (Hoo boi I also love OldRivalShipping and MangaQuestShipping and a bunch of other small character ships that nobody needs to hear about.As for other fandoms I really like Chiyo x Nozaki from Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun because that anime did not deserve to end the way it did and Haruhi x Kaoru from Ouran High School Host Club because if you read the manga they’re just too cute. Also canons sink ships. That’s all I have to say

“What’s an OTP?”

50. Favourite movie?

I’m not going to lie, I don’t know. I guess for the sake of this question I’m going to say this movie that’s called “Help! I’m a Fish.” As a child I would watch it on repeat at least once a day (although I watched it in Polish and not English). It’s probably the reason why my grandpa hated me so much lmao

“Have you ever seen the movie Hotel for Lillipups? It’s such a good movie! It’s about these kids that open a hotel for canine pokemon and slowly they save strays from being taken away from bad guys!”

#doomedgod #meme #thank u rach #you also got me to scroll through shipping pics again lmao #h e l p

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its-negans-lucille · 7 years

Text

Blood Rose - Part Two

THIS HAS BEEN REPOSTED

You can find the other part of this two part series on my Masterlist, HERE

Prompt: Can you do something with either negan or Daryl and the reader where the reader has a secret crush on him and she leaves him little drawings of him and flowers and poems and it secretly becomes his fav part of the day. One day she accidentally gets herself caught by him somehow, and you can go from there. (:

Ships: Negan x Reader Words: 1,294 Warnings: Mild smut, curses

***

Negan had been surprised when a couple days later there had been a knock at the door. It was about Lunchtime so almost everyone should be in the dining hall; he wasn’t there only because he was getting ready to make a trip to Alexandria.

He was just packing his bag when there was a curt knock at the door which made him turn around in surprise. He slowly walked toward the door, trying not to make a sound; he quickly opened the door and found that no one was there. He looked down at the floor and he saw another blood red rose sitting there. This time there was a note attached. Negan looked up and down the corridor, checking to see if there was anyone there, which there wasn’t, before he picked up the rose with the accompanying note.

He swiftly stepped inside and shut the door, making sure to lock it. He settled himself down in the cream leather seat; he placed the rose down on the small table beside him. He quickly opened the note like an excited child who just got a letter back from their pen-pal. The note read:

Tut, tut, tut. Trying to find me, I see. And here I thought you enjoyed the chase. -???

Negan let a small, mischievous smile form on his masculine features. If it was a chase they wanted, it was a chase that they were going to get.

***

It had been two months and each day a letter and a rose would appear outside Negan’s door. They would appear at all times of day so he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint when the letter would arrive. More than once he would wake up in the middle of the night to a knock at the door and a rose at the floor.

He had began to found that the rose and the accompanying letter, drawing or poem had become the best part of his day.

He had begun to assess the women on the base at meal times and when they were on runs. He was determined to find the minx that is driving him insane. He would see if they acted any differently around him, but so far he had found nothing.

Even when he would position himself at the door of his room, awaiting the knock, he could never find the woman who was leaving note at his door. Until today.

Negan had been on a late night visit to Alexandria and had only just arrived back at the sanctuary. From what you could tell it was about three AM and the factory was completely silent; so silent that you could probably hear a pin drop. Negan was striding down a corridor that leads to his own corridor where his room was situated. He slowed down when he reached the place he would normally turn right to go to his room. He heard a scuffling of footsteps and a ruffle of clothing. He leaned around the corner and tentatively peeked down the corridor.

There was a woman squatted outside his door, a red scarf and rose in hand. She placed the scarf down in an almost snake-like coil. She placed the rose with the upmost care in the centre of the scarf coil. A small smile rose on Neman’s face. He slowly started walking down the corridor, making sure to make little to no noise.

Oh he was going to enjoy this.

***

You were admiring your handy work. Negan had still not figured out who was leaving all of the roses and notes outside his door, and you had to admit that you were rather enjoying the chase. You crouched down and pulled out another note from your back pocket and carefully tucked it into a fold of the scarf.

“Now, now, what do we have here?” A low, husky voice from behind you said. Your heart began to thunder in your chest. You swiftly stood up and backed up two steps so that your back was against Negan’s door. You noticed how much he dwarfed you in size; he was at least a head taller than you. There was a triumphant smile forming on his features as he searched your face hungrily.

“So you’re the one whose been leaving little gifts outside my door.” Negan said as he licked his lips. “I must say, I am not disappointed.” You felt a heat rise at his words and you had to look away from him and his intense gaze. You stared determinately at the floor.

You felt Negan’s calloused hand under your chin as he forced you to look at him. His eyes held almost animalistic hunger that made a shiver go down your spine.

“Let’s see what you left me tonight, shall we?” He smirked as he dipped down and picked up the red scarf and rose. He placed the rose to his nose and smiled as he took in a deep breath and sighed happily.

“Would you like to do the honours?” He whispered in your ear as he handed you the rose. His hot breath on your earlobe sent a shiver down your spine and a heat to your core.

You nodded slowly. You sheepishly put the rose in between your lips so that your hands were free. You dipped your head as you took the scarf from his hands, as your fingertips brushed there was an almost electric feeling between you both. You looked up at him as your raised the red scarf around his head. You saw that his eyes were darting from your lips to your eyes. You twirled the scarf twice around his head and finally you tucked it into his leather jacket.

“Thank you, Doll.” He said in a lust filled voice. “Now, let me help you.”

He took you by surprise as he leaned close to you, so close that your nose actually brushed against his. You let out a small gasp which made Negan smirk at the affect he had on you.

“Open your mouth, Darlin’.” He said almost hungrily.

You obliged and as you did so Negan leaned in to you so that he was practically pinning you against his door. The rose was perched precariously on your lower lip as Negan hovered maybe a centimetre above you. The tension was killing you and he knew it, he let out a small laugh before he lowered his lips onto your own. His tongue explored your mouth as much as it could with the ruby red rose still on your lips. He swiftly removed the rose from your mouth with his teeth, making sure to give your bottom lip a little nibble.

He held the rose lazily in his hand and smelt it again before tucking it in his leather jacket pocket.

“Oh, Doll, you’ve got something right there…” He said as you felt a pin prick of blood blossom on your lower lip, from a thorn you presumed.

Negan lowered his face to your own again and licked the crimson blood from your lip. You could feel your arousal in your nether regions and you could feel that you were already wet. He licked his lips after he tasted you. He let out a satisfied hum and a seductive smirk.

“You taste mighty good, Princess.” You felt yourself blush. “I wonder how the rest of you tastes.” He smirked as he surveyed your body.

“Why don’t we finish this little conversation inside? Eh?” He Smiled before opening the door behind you so that you practically fell into his room with a small yelp.

You knew that you were in for one helluva night.

***

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER!!!

Also, I hope that you didn’t mind your prompt being addressed in this chapter, nonnie? It’s just I could get rid of two birds with one stone C:

HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!!!

@negans-network

#NEgan #Negan x reader #Negan TWD #TWD Negan #TWD #The Walking Dead Negan #Negan The Walking Dead #The Walking Dead

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reality-glitched-archived · 6 years

Text

Shipmas Drabble || ℛ𝒆𝓭 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓖𝓻𝒆𝒆𝓷 ♡

Prompt: Red and Green (Shipmas Challenge) Ship: Blood Laced Bubblegum (Glitch x Clarissa x Anti) Accompanying Art

The holiday season had once again rolled around and, with it, came the obnoxious sound of sleigh bells and carols, overpriced presents that somehow got away with being listed as ‘On Sale!’ even though everyone knew that most weren’t, overtly religious advertisements everywhere, and this tension in the air that everybody pretended was ‘holiday cheer’ even though the majority of it was actually nerves stemmed from a desire to make the season perfect.

Case in point? Victor ‘Glitch’ Valentine wasn’t exactly looking forward to the rest of this month, but... there were a few bright sides to be found in it. Winter was a beautiful time of year, and even though the glittery ornaments and frilly costumes got older by the year, it at least served as an excuse for hot chocolate and Clarissa trading pink for red more often than not. This early into things, those silver linings were thankfully more present than the atrocities to follow later into it, and so he really couldn’t complain much yet; at least, not outside his internal monologue.

Now, that compromise with his own bitterness didn’t change the fact that he had no idea how he’d gotten roped into holiday decorating at Jared’s home this year... Oh, right, likely because Anti did technically live there, and once the boy had convinced Clarissa to join him, there wasn’t much hope for ‘getting out of it’ on Glitch’s end either.

Summary? It was her fault. Or perhaps Anti’s, if blame could be placed on someone just because that individual wanted to spend the holiday season around his partners... Which likely wasn’t any more fair than blaming their girlfriend for agreeing to humor the excitable child.

“ ‘Tis the season... ”

The words lacked every ounce of cheer that most people said them in, flowing from an irritable tongue in the form of a sigh, before the figment shook his head to clear it and pushed open the door. Decorations were scattered across the place, boxes of ornaments and lights, and Christmas themed music immediately filled his ears, the obnoxiously chipper tunes rattling in his skull and causing a faint snarl to pass his lips before he’d even gotten two steps into the house.

‘ Damn humans... ...Actually, it’s not even the bloody humans this time. ’

Roughly half an hour before that, Anti had found himself bouncing around the kitchen of he and Jared’s home, Clarissa perched at the kitchen table. Boxes of decorations were already set out around both the kitchen and livingroom, ready to go for whenever their other partner arrived to help them both decorate. But, first and foremost—

“ Did ̷yȩ wa҉nt ̡h҉o̡t c͠h͟oc̢o͞la͡te, S͡ug͡arc̵u̷be͟? ”

“ Sure, Cookie. But I thought you were the one that always griped about it being ‘hot cocoa’? ”

A static-lined giggle fell past grinning lips, and then the childish figment was spinning around to face his girlfriend. It was always so nice to know something that other people didn’t!

“ T̸hat ͡f̢r̢om̀-̨p͟owder͞ ̀s͟hi͘t?͜ I͜t i̴s. ”

Oh-so-proud of himself, the boy spun back around to grab the ladle, fixing up a mug of hot chocolate for the blonde vampire as he spoke. A free thumb jutted to point at the leftover bars of chocolate that were still sat out on the counter, and another giggle tumbled out of his mouth before he explained.

“ Ho̴t ̴c͢h͘ocola̸te is҉ w͢he̛n y͞e a̴ct̷ual̵l̨y̴ ͟t͟a͜ke͟ ͠t͢h͠’̡ t͠ime̷ t̵a’ m͘el͢t͞ cho̧colate͡ i̸n̶ta̴’ w̕a̛t̸er. ”

Absent fingers spun a vial of blood before uncapping it and letting the contents fall into her mug, and - after a quick stir with a spoon that was absently popped into his mouth the second it wasn’t being used anymore - he bounced over to hand it to her. The words that followed were slightly muffled by the spoon in his mouth, but the way his voice tended to ‘bounce’ around a room made it so that didn’t quite matter.

“ S’way͠ ̡b͟étt̀e͞r, an̛y͜wa҉y, ̴n’ ̢it͘ ̕means͜ ͜th͝e͡r͢é’s̷ ͠e̛x̨tra ͝c̛hoc͞ol͞at͢e͞ ͟f̸er͞ ͢wḩe͞n ̴Glitc͡h̀y ̶ge҉ts he̡re. ”

Shaking off his bitterness at the cheerful music, Glitch quickly stepped in and kicked the door shut behind himself, dress shoes clicking softly on tile as he made his way into the kitchen. Clarissa was already at the table, one leg crossed over the other, holding a mug in her hands as manicured nails lightly tapped the surface of it. Anti was leaned back against the counter with one of those proud little grins spread across his face, green hair sticking up at odd angles (likely from having been running about the place all morning), those semi-luminescent eyes sparkling with whatever semblance of joy his conscious had conjured up that day.

“ There you are, darling. ”

“ G͞lit͢c̴hy͞! I ̢was͏ ̧s̕t̛a̴r͜ti͝n̶’ t̀a’́ ̡thin̵k̡ ̡y҉e ͠ẃe̡ren͞’t c͠omi̸n’. ”

The greetings came almost immediately, which was - at least - a good start to an otherwise annoying day. Stepping over, the far-dark figment leaned down to steal a kiss from his girlfriend; an action that had been planned as brief but quickly ended up lingering as the taste of bloody chocolate registered. A faint purr rumbled in his throat, taking that extra minute to let some of the tension ease out of a constantly on-edge body, before he pulled back and flashed one of those pleasant smirks.

“ Good afternoon, lovely. ”

Moving around the table to the counter, he looped an arm around his other partner’s waist, tugging Anti closer to press the expected kiss against his lips. After a pause, he pulled away from that as well, hands purposefully smoothing out the fabric of his suit as the next greeting rolled lightly off his tongue.

“ Hello, dear... You lot could have gotten started without me. ”

“ Wha̵t’s tha̵’ f́un ͘in tha̛t?̵ ”

One of those lyrical giggles passed the boy’s lips, stopping Glitch from complaining outwardly about things just yet, and then Anti was bouncing over to snag a piece of chocolate - which Glitch immediately stole from those grabby fingers with the usual quip:

“ Mine now. It’s too early into the day for you to be eating sweets anyways. ”

And with that, the piece of chocolate was neatly placed between a fang and proper tooth, eyebrow quirking expectantly.

“ F͠ii͝ine..͞. C’mòn̷ th͠e͝n, w҉e͞’̷ve got ̧d͡ec̛o̷rat̡i̷n’ ta’͏ d͞o̷! ”

If anyone had been ready to argue? Well, there wasn’t really a chance for it, because with that said, the boy was bouncing to grab various decorations, getting to work at setting the place up for the holidays. Clarissa, after an eye-roll that Glitch was certain had been more for his sake than her own, set the mug down and hopped up from her seat, moving to help string up lights.

It was all so.. damn.. cheerful.

But, there wasn’t any use in complaining about it, so with a shake of his head, Glitch shifted to start helping them - briefly snarling at the dust that clung to some of the decor after this many months of not being used.

“ To be fair... ”

Clair’s voice swiftly grabbed both of the figments’ attention, Anti pausing in the middle of hanging up a bright green bulb to look at her and Glitch promptly spinning to face the others again.

“ Being around you two always looks like Christmas. ”

And with that, the little vampire had effectively lost the pair, because neither had any idea what the fuck she was going on about now. Red eyes blinked slowly at her, and out of the corner of his vision, he could see Anti’s head tilting with the same confusion.

“ Pardon? ”

“ Tha̷’̨ ̷f̧uc͘k d͏o̸es̕ ҉that e̛ven ̷m͏èa̵n, ̸S̛ug̵arc͠ub͝e? ”

Laughing all too sweetly, Clarissa slid over to where the livingroom’s light switch was, smiling in that playful way that flashed the briefest glimpse of her fangs. Before either could question further, she was flipping the switch, and the room promptly went dark apart from what few strings of holiday-lights were already plugged in.

Blinking, Glitch stayed quiet as his eyes quickly adjusted to the change, vision returning despite the darkness due to the ‘perks’ of being a figment. Crimson eyes glowed faintly in the room to accompany the shift, and as he glanced over to where Anti stood - still blinking to try to get his own eyes to fixate on the room again (as being in a technically human body meant it took a bit longer) - he noted emerald eyes glowing more than usual to make the same shift.

“ Red and green~ ”

Clarissa’s voice caught their attention once again, both looking towards where the vampire was smiling proudly at the situation, a manicured fingernail pointing at each of them in reference.

“ You two are like my own personal Christmas lights. ”

A sweet laugh fell from painted lips, and was quickly accompanied by those familiar, manic giggles from Anti. The lights were flipped back on - a bit too quickly, in Glitch’s opinion, which accounted for the quiet growl he gave in response to it - and then both were left blinking as their eyes, once again, had to adjust to the change in lighting. With as abrupt as it all was, those ruby and emerald hues glowed a bit brighter in response, rather than dulling, as it was far easier to flare up supernatural ability than it was to ‘tone back down’ to human senses.

“ If͘ yo̸u̡ say ͡s͏o͠, sẃeetie͏. ”

“ That may be the most childish you’ve ever sounded, Clarissa, but fair enough. ”

With that, the three were back to work - stringing up various lights and other decorations that, now that he was actually thinking about it, did ironically fit. Red and green quickly surrounded the room, along with accents of gold and silver, and as pointless as it all seemed, as obnoxious as the music playing in the background still was...

At least there really was something to celebrate this year.

@theabandonedones

#[Behind The Scenes // The 𝓗𝔢𝔩𝔩 Inside My Head; My Drabbles]#[Re: Blood Laced Bubblegum ⁽ᴳˡᶤᵗᶜʰ ˣ ᶜˡᵃʳᶤˢˢᵃ ˣ ᴬᶰᵗᶤ⁾]#[Re: Blood Laced Bubblegum ⁽ᴬᶰᵗᶤ ˣ ᶜˡᵃʳᶤˢˢᵃ ˣ ᴳˡᶤᵗᶜʰ⁾]#Shipmas Drabbles #[Another Crack In 𝓡𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔦𝔱𝑦; IC | G l i t c h]#[You All 𝚂𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙼𝚢 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎; IC | Anti]#[Subverse: Popping Bubblegum Hearts]#[My Heart Is 𝔾𝕠𝕝𝕕 & My Hands Are 𝓒𝔬𝔩𝔡 || Mainverse ⁽ᵛᶤᶰᶜᵉᶰᵗ & ᴳˡᶤᵗᶜʰ⁾]#[𝐿𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽 When You 𝕃𝕚𝕖 || Mainverse ⁽ᴶᵃʳᵉᵈ & ᴬᶰᵗᶤ⁾]

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