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afrowrites · 25 days

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~What A Difference a Day Makes~

High noon, blistering heat scattered across the wastelands. Rolling waves of heat come off of the scared man. His weathered coat and hat absorbs the warmth of the sun. But a man like him doesn’t mind it. He clings to its warmth like he clings to radiation it’s familiar and after 200 years of life that’s the first thing that gets him going. As he traverses the weathered ground and picks from the weathered weeds he’s home and home is wherever he lays his hat. And today his hat lands right at your home.

Word Count: 3,102

Warnings: Hostages, Explosions.

Tags: The Ghoul/Black Plus-Sized Reader, Fluff, Domesticity, Banter, Slowburn(Kind of, not really)

Read on Ao3

The Ghoul enters an old dilapidated town,“Well, well, what do we have here?”

He trips and before he can figure out what it is that he tripped on he hears music, a song from the past. “What a difference a day makes”

The Ghoul pauses for a moment, letting the song wash over him. He hums softly to himself before his features fall back into the familiar sardonic smirk. “Well, ain't that just a day late and a dollar short.”

Suddenly the record stops then it rewinds, a haunting and demonic sound ringing through the speakers from that turntable. It explodes and sends him hurling towards some old rickety building.

He slowly gets back up, rubbing the back of his head. His expression changes from amusement to annoyance. “Well, ain't that just a real humdinger. What's a ghoul gotta do to get some peace and quiet around here?”

He suddenly feels the barrel of a gun at the back of his head "Now I don't know who you are and what your doing here but you have about three seconds before I blow your head to smithereens"

He turned slowly to see a beautiful brown figure, she had luscious full lips that were twisted in a scowl, a sharp stare that could cut glass, and a body that would make any man fall to his knees. Which is what our cowboy wants to do so bad but he also doesn’t want to get shot.

“Well, ain't you a proper little ray of sunshine, darlin'? If you want to know who I am, just call me The Ghoul. As for what I'm doing here, well, sometimes a fella jus' needs a little excitement, know what I mean?”

"And what pray tell would that be?" you looked at him, gun nudging his forehead.

“What do I want? How ‘bout a damn drink and a decent meal. Maybe even a little bit of friendly conversation that doesn't involve pointing a gun at my head?” The Ghoul's tone is cool and calm, unruffled by the threat of violence.

You take his bag from him and motion him to hand over his weapons, after all your modified grenade launcher is much scarier then some dinky pistols, after collecting the items you bind his hands with rope tightly and make you decent to your base of operations.

"Alright if food and good company is what you seek then I guess you can follow me, but don't think you can escape or I'll make sure you face my music."

All while you're talking he for some reason can’t stop staring at your lips, The Ghoul raises an eyebrow, his smirk turning into a wry smile.

“Well, looks like I'm just a damn dog on a leash now. But, if that's what it takes for a little vittles and banter, I guess I can't complain. Lead the way, darlin'. I'll try not to bite.” He shows you a grinning smile.

It takes half a day's journey to get to a dilapidated house on the outskirts of the shady sands. We walk in and it smells of mildew and dust.

"Welcome to my abode, rough skin." I tie him securely to a sturdy post of the house. He has enough room to sit at the dinner table without causing too much of a fuss.

The Ghoul glances around the dilapidated house, taking in the dusty surroundings. He doesn't hide his surprise, but masks his discomfort with sardonic wit.

“Well, ain't this just the picture of comfort and luxury. Mildewed walls, a chair that's seen better days, and the distinct smell of desperation. It's like a damn holiday.”

"I'm sorry this house is 250 years old and has survived two nukes safe to say I think I'm doing just fine, besides it's not like you know any better.”

The Ghoul laughs, a raspy, guttural sound.

“Two nukes, you say? Well, now we're talkin'. But hey, maybe I just prefer the finer things in life, like a decent roof over my head and a bed that doesn't squeak louder than a dying Radstag. But who am I to complain? After all, I'm sittin' at the table of a bonafide wasteland celebrity. And the company ain't half bad, either.”

"You're funny, what's your name?" I squint and I lean in closer to his face.

The Ghoul gives a crooked grin, revealing yellowed, pointed teeth. “They call me The Ghoul, sweetcheeks. But you can call me whatever you damn well please. Just don't expect me to be all sunshine and butterflies every damn minute.”

“You idiot I already knew that,” You chuckle and hit his arm playfully, “But you do look awfully familiar, I can't quite put my nose to it but I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough"

The Ghoul's lip curls into a smirk as he leans in close. “Well, darlin' if you recognize this old mug of mine, then you must be one hell of a fan, considering how much more handsome I used to be.”

He takes a moment to relish in this compliment before his sarcasm returns. “Now, are we gonna talk about my good looks all night, or are ya gonna get a fella somethin' to eat?”

"pushy, much" I rummage through my cabinets to open my secret stash of food behind my fake out cabinets

"Alright I have some cram and mac'n cheese and drum roll please"

The Ghoul's eyes light up at the sight of the canned meals, He quickly returns to his usual sarcasm.

“Well, hot damn! Look at you, pullin’ out the good stuff. I reckon I’ll take a bowl of that there “mac and cheese” you mentioned. Gotta tell you, darlin’, nothing says fine dining like canned crap.”

"You didn't even let me tell you what was for dessert, hmph." In your pouty frustration, he finds it endearing which is awfully close as he remembers that one you have him tied up in your hide-away, and two he barely even knows who you are.

The Ghoul chuckles, enjoying this brief interaction with someone who isn't actively trying to kill him.

“Desert, you say? Well, now you have my full attention. Let's hear it, darlin'. What's the sweet treat you're hiding in that stash of yours?”

"Fancy lads snack cakes, they are actually good which worries me because that means they put all sorts of chemical crap in here. But beggars can't be choosers can they?"

The Ghoul's eyes light up again, and he almost seems enthusiastic.

“Well, now we're talkin'! Fancy lads snack cakes, huh? Sounds like a piece of pre-war heaven. Hell, I've tasted dog food that was better than some of the slop I've come across in the Wasteland. But, you're right, darlin'. When you're out here scavenging for scraps, you gotta take what you can get.”

"I'll heat this stuff up then." You turn away blushing,and you honestly don’t know why?

The Ghoul gives you a sly smile, noticing your flushed cheeks, and nervous nature.

“Well, ain't that a sight for sore eyes. Here I am, tied to a chair and at your mercy, and you're the one gettin' all flustered. Careful now, darlin'. If you keep givin' me these heated stares, a fella might start getting some ideas.”

"Now what kind of girl do you take me for?" You raise my brow and smirk.

The Ghoul's eyes twinkle mischievously as he looks you up and down.

“Well, darlin', let's see. You're a proper little badass, ain't ya? Tying me up, feedin’ me grub, givin’ me the eye. I reckon you're the kind of girl who knows how to hold her own in this here Wasteland, and if provoked, could knock a fella flat on his ass with just the force of your glare. Hell, I'd say you're the kind of girl who could kick my ass while lookin’ damn fine doin’ it.”

"That's real cute but flattery will not get you untied." I get closer to whisper in his ear "Mister~"

The Ghoul chuckles, the hairs that would be on the back of his neck rising at your touch. “Well, ain't you a sly one? Look darlin', I'll gladly sing your praises from here to the Grand Canyon. But you're right, there ain't a compliment in the world that could charm these ropes off me. And don't get me wrong, I ain't complainin'. A pretty lady, good food, and I'm tied down at her mercy? Sounds like a hell of a good time to me.”

"Your just in luck because the food is ready." You take the macaroni and cram off the fire and plate it on the mis-matched plates and cutlery.

The Ghoul's eyes light up as the food hits the table. Well, isn't this a sight for sore eyes? You ain't pullin' any punches, darlin'. Canned mac and cheese and cram. It's like a damn feast for a Wasteland king. I appreciate the effort, darlin'. You've got me hooked. He grins, his stomach rumbling in anticipation.

"You really better be glad I'm wasting my food on you, if I didn't have other food drops and suppliers you'd be starving."

The Ghoul gives a hearty chuckle, his sharp teeth glinting in the light. “Oh, darling, I'm aware. Believe me, I don't take your generosity lightly. But hey, I'd say I make up for it with my sparkling personality. He winks playfully. If you wanted to leave me hungry, you would have done so already. So, why feed me? You gotta be expectin' somethin' in return.”

"Honestly I don't know why I'm helping you, you just feel familiar to me and I don't know why. It's like in my mind I know who you are. But I don't know I might just be talking out of my ass."

The Ghoul's grin falters for a moment, his thoughts racing. He can see the confusion and memory in your eyes. “Ah, familiar, eh? Well, I won't lie, darlin'. I've been around these parts for a damn long time and have met more than my share of fascinating folks. It could be I've got a face that sticks in the mind. But, who knows? Maybe it's just a coincidence. The Wasteland is a mighty big place.”

You abruptly pause and think for a moment, “Would you want to watch a movie with me?"

The Ghoul's eyebrow arches in surprise and amazement. “Now, that's a damn fine suggestion. It ain't often a ghoul gets an invitation to watch the latest Hollywood flick. But, if you're askin', I'd love to join you. As long as it's a proper action movie, none of that romantic crap. I wanna see things blow up and people kick ass, you know what I mean?”

You laugh at his response, gritty and rough, “"Oh yeah you can watch my favorites with me. I only really have a cowboy cooper so I hope you don't mind." You give him a sheepish smile.

The Ghoul's expression grows intrigued. “Cowboy Cooper, eh? Sounds like the kind of movie fit for a true Wasteland outlaw. As long as it's got that proper Wild West charm, I'm in. You better believe I'm ready to sit back and enjoy the show. Let the explosions and bullets fly, darlin'. Hell, it might even make me forget about my current predicament.”

"You're such an old man." You chuckle to myself as I turn on the movie.

The Ghoul lets out a low chuckle, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Well now, aren't you the little firecracker? I ain't called old man in years. But hey, if it gets me a front row seat to this flick, I'll wear that label proudly. Now, let's get this show goin'. Nothing like a proper Western to get a ghoul's blood pumpin'”

You watch the movie together on your dilapidated couch on a tv that somehow works. "Now I know who you remind me of."

The Ghoul nods, his eyes flicking between the movie and you. He can tell you’ve got something on your mind. “Go on, darlin’. I could use a good mystery unraveled. Who do I remind you of?”

You make this somewhat off connection in your mind. "Cowboy Cooper, your voices are somewhat similar and you both have the same teeth which is shocking considering you're a ghoul."

The Ghoul's expression is unreadable for a moment as he processes your statement. Then, a slow, sardonic smile spreads across his face.

“Well, now, isn't that something. Cowboy Cooper, huh? Guess it makes sense, given this ole’ rugged good looks. I'll take that as a compliment, darlin’. As for the teeth…well, I guess you could say life's been rough on them. But it just gives me that extra charm, don't you think?”

"I guess." you chuckle to yourself, as I start to rest your head on the ghouls shoulder.

The Ghoul's smirk softens slightly as he feels you rest your head on his shoulder. He can't help but let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Well, ain't you somethin'? Here I am, all tied up and helpless, but somehow I end up playin’ the role of your personal pillow.”

You nuzzle into him, “Well you are comfier than you look.” You smile to yourself, this is honestly the first time you’ve felt anyones touch in a long time.

The Ghoul's smirk widens into a wolfish grin. He leans against the ropes, allowing you to use him as your makeshift pillow. “Well, darlin', if I knew I’d end up as the Wasteland’s next hottest pillow, I would have tied myself up years ago. But I gotta admit, you’re onto something. Maybe it’s these rugged good looks that make it so comfy. So, is this my new job? Just stayin’ put so you can rest your pretty little head on my shoulder?”

"Whatever you say cowboy," you yawn and stretch off of him. "Hey I don't know if you ghouls need to sleep but I will be doing that upstairs. i'll even tie you to my bed so I can sleep easier"

The Ghoul can’t help but chuckle at your bold invitation. He gives you a sly look, his eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Well now, ain't you the forward one? I haven't slept in years, so you don't gotta worry about me gettin’ into mischief while you catch your rest. As for the whole "tying me up to your bed" shenanigans, well, I won't say I'm opposed to the idea.”

You chuckle and give him a sleepy smile. "I bet you aren't, come on cowboy" As you lead him upstairs.

With a low chuckle, the Ghoul follows you up the stairs, his steps slightly hindered by the ropes. Despite his predicament, he can’t help but feel a bit excited at the prospect of spending the night in your bed. “Well, darlin', if you're offerin', who am I to refuse? Just don’t hog all the covers, alright?”

"Ah ah take off your shoes" You grin with your hand wide open motioning him to give them to you.

The Ghoul pauses for a moment, confusion flickering across his face. “My shoes? Look, darlin’, I ain’t one to question a lady, but this seems like a bit much. If I take my shoes off, then the next thing I know, you’re gonna be demanding I sleep naked and give up my guns.”

"That's not a bad idea, hand em over cowpoke" You knew he had extra weapons you were honestly confused as to why he hadn’t tried anything.

The Ghoul raises an eyebrow at your suggestion, but can’t help but chuckle, clearly amused.

“Oh now, darlin’. Don’t get me wrong. I’m a wild one, sure, but takin’ off my shoes and sleeping naked? You keep making me an offer like that and I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got plans for me beyond just restin’. Maybe I oughta keep my weapons within reach, just in case.”

"Relax if you think I'm thinking about doing anything of that nature you're surely mistaken" this next part you say under your breath "I've never even done that."

The Ghoul quirks an eyebrow at your muttered words. “Now wait now, hold up. That sounded like a mighty important confession you just let slip there. Are you tellin' me that you’ve never done any of that?” His eyes rake over you for a moment as a slow, wicked grin spreads across his face. “Seems like some fellas in this world are missing out on a good time.”

"Oh be quiet" you throw a pillow at his face and you take his weapon and throw it at the far side of the room. "And if you don't mind I'll be sleeping with my gun, is that ok?”

The Ghoul catches the pillow with a smirk, setting it aside. He watches as you move his weapons away, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Oh trust me, darlin’, I’m perfectly fine with a lady keepin’ her weapon close. In fact, I’d say it’s a mighty smart move, even when you’re sharin’ a bed with a fella like me. Can’t be too careful in this Wasteland.”

"Hmmm you're too eager and I don't like that, but I'll keep you around. I need a guard dog after all" You smile cheekily at him.

The Ghoul's smirk turns into a wolfish grin, revealing a hint of sharp teeth in the dim light. Your wink doesn’t go unnoticed, and he can’t help but appreciate your boldness. “Oh darlin’, you’re playin’ a dangerous game. Keep givin’ me those looks and making comments like that, and you just might find yourself tangled up in somethin’ more than just bedsheets.”

You roll my eyes "goodnight Cowboy"

The Ghoul watches you roll your eyes, a smirk plastered across his face. He can’t help but laugh as you bid him goodnight, his deep chuckle filling the air.

“Alright there, darlin’. Goodnight~” With a wink, he settles down on the bed, his gaze never leaving you.

#fallout #the ghoul #cooper howard #fallout tv series #he's kinda #black reader #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #plus size reader #The ghoul x black reader #fluff #domestic fluff #Like what if he relaxed #that would be nice

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genshinemblem564 · 6 months

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Sagau: A god's closure + world building

World building, possibly, it's here if I need it

Characters: Hu Tao

This came about from a journey to the "border" with Hu Tao. As an immortal being who grew up as a mortal, your own mortality, or lack thereof, began to weigh on you. When you finally reached your destination, you and Hu Tao were surprised to find a massive gate where you distinctly remember there wasn't one, and in front of it stood a hulking being which resembled an Anubis.

"Anubis": Ah, your grace. To what does this watcher of souls owe your visit? Ah, but forgive me, your memory is not fully intact, so I imagine you must have many questions.

Warden: I am a being known as a "Warden" as I am a protector of the kind and good willed souls that pass through here, while making sure the evil spirits remain trapped in their prison. This gate you see is the gate to the after life. You may note that it was not here upon your last visit, both it and I were revealed by your desire and divine power. Now may I ask, what is your desire?

You shake yourself from your shocked state and state the purpose of your journey.

(Y/N): I-I wish to know, can I visit my friends once they're "gone"? I may be immortal, but I was raised as a mortal, so bonds come to me much easier than they do the archons and other immortal beings.

Warden: I see. Well, to answer your question, yes, you may visit the afterlife whenever you like .

You breathe a sigh of relief as the weight that had been on you the entire journey here finally lifted.

Hu Tao: Oooh, hey, big fella, would you mind describing the afterlife a bit? I'm just "dying" to know more about it.

(Y/N): I'm also rather curious.

Warden: Very well. The afterlife has gone by many names, you may choose to call it whichever you like, but it serves as both paradise and prison. You may recall I said I am "a" warden, there many more of my kin beyond this gate. This place was made by you in your past life to be a paradise to all, and that meant making it a prison for others, and I must say your past self understood mortals well, as there are many aspects to this ever expanding plane. First, I should explain that this gate's destination changes depending on your soul. Good and neutral souls enter a serenity inducing room where servants attempt to lift the weight of their past life, and just beside that is a therapy center as some spirits are more tormented than others. Meanwhile, evil souls are brought straight to the prison, where they are kept until further notice.

(Y/N): Sorry to interrupt, but what is a neutral soul?

Warden: Hmm. I suppose you would say they are those who mind their business, or perhaps they are broken souls who could have done more if life had provided better circumstances. In short, while these souls are not "good" by some standards, they hold no malice within then. Thus, they are neutral. Pranksters, such as your guide here, are also labeled under this category, while good at heart, they are still trouble makers disturbing the peace and thus require disciplinary action should their pranks get out of hand.

You nod and smile in acceptance to this answer, feeling relieved for all of the broken people you've heard of. Hu Tao kind of huffed as if she thought he was describing her.

Warden: On the note of broken souls, there is also a rehabilitation wing of the prison per your command. In your words, "Evil is a disease. Those who are born with it may be beyond saving, but those infected by it are curable with proper treatment." So far, these words have proven true. Many a Rotten soul has been cleansed of malice and given freedom from their torment. Speaking of the prison, the only other thing of note is that it is ever changing in size to house the ever changing number of inmates, but this is true of all aspects of this realm. Now, onto the more pleasant aspects of the afterlife. As stated before, your past self understood mortals well and constructed many districts, with the souls making new ones with each generation. The first is the obvious housing district where the souls live or rather have more personal family time as, if you wish to be technical, no one "lives" here.

You and Hu Tao chuckle a little at his little joke.

Warden: Second, there are the working districts as, surprisingly, many souls find satisfaction in hard work. These souls do jobs such as farming, cooking, many different types of artistry, engineering, construction, smithing, and sales despite there not being a currency here. These districts include the market, the entertainment district where concerts and plays are held, the foundry where all metal is worked into a new shape where it is promptly sent to either the workshop where it is used as machine parts, or the ones made into weapons will be sent to the coloseum where the souls who yearn for battle can relive their glory and have crowds of adoring fans cheer them on for it, and then there are the self explanatory farmlands and restaurants.

(Y/N): That's, um, a lot.

Warden: Quite, and there's still more. There are also the springs and gardens for those seeking a moment of peace, the banquet hall often used by the warrior spirits after a thrilling match as they revel in each other's glory, then there is the central plaza which the souls have taken to calling Festival Street as all of the realms festivities are held there, the archives where those who seek to learn can go to hone their craft. Also, since many people seem to ask, yes, the souls of animals are sent to paradise as, while a lot of animals do kill, it is most often during a hunt or defense, and they are not all malicious. Pets will often wait outside this gate for their owner or one of them if they had multiple, wild and farm animals are led to separate biomes that are suited to them. These biomes are also popular spots to take a trip. Ahem, sorry, I'm just so used to being interrupted by that question that going so long without answering it felt weird. Anyway, back on topic, there is also the museum, along with the archives it is used to preserve the truth of this world's history, not the glorified mess they teach in schools. There are many more human desires that I can list districts and buildings for, but I feel you and your friend would like to make it home before the end of the season, so this will be the last of what I say provided you don't have anymore questions. It may not surprise you that many of the souls within this realm are quite religious, so much so that there is a statue of you, er, your former self in the central plaza, with many smaller shrines to you and other deities scattered throughout the numerous districts.

Hu Tao thanks the warden before turning to leave.

(Y/N): Just one more question, I promise this will be quick. As I've stated before, immotality can be costly on one's soul. This holds true even to those born with it. My question is, would I be able to give others the ability to visit?

Warden: If that is what you desire. I take it this means I will be seeing a few of the archons soon?

You nod and thank him for his time before finally leaving with an extra spring in your step. Once outside, Hu Tao stretches rather loudly.

Hu Tao: Mmmmh. Man, that took forever, but I think we both got something out of that. You got peace of mind and i got a new appreciation for my work.

(Y/N): A "new" appreciation? You enjoyed your work well enough before, I dread to think of what you'll do now.

Hu Tao: Oh you. Don't some archons to visit?

(Y/N): Maybe later, we were in there for quite a while, and all that listening made me rather hungry.

Hu Tao was about to comment before her stomach growled, causing you both to laugh as you made your way back to the harbor.

___________________________________________

Well, that was a massive info dump, definitely longer than I anticipated. I haven't seen anyone tackle the subject of the reader's lack of mortality, and the idea of a creator who can willingly traverse both the realms of living and dead has been rotting my brain, I also wanted the ability to give the archons a bit of closure, at least the ones who lost someone dear to them. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed that rather lengthy info dump

#genshin impact #sagau #sagau headcanons #sagau imagines #sagau brainrot

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would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend · 9 months

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Would An Ekans Be A Good Pet?

For our second post of Teal Mask Week, we're covering this charming little fella: ekans! This one was honestly a surprise. Would an ekans be a good pet? The numbers say yes!

Now, to be clear, ekans (ekanses?) can learn a lot of very dangerous moves. They are capable of projecting large amounts of poison, which anyone can tell you is not the best. It is important to point out, of course, that ekans are not venomous; they don't inject venom with fangs like real-world venomous snakes (they don't have any teeth!). Therefore, just like other poison types, while the danger of these moves need to be considered, proper training and care can mitigate the danger.

Ekans are a good size, if bigger than most pet snakes. According to the pokédex, they live a rather sedentary lifestyle, so despite their impressive length they could comfortably find a home in most living spaces. Just make sure they have safe places to hide and curl up when it's time to sleep.

Ekans love to eat pidgey and spearow eggs whole (Red/Blue). It's unclear how easy it would be to acquire these, but surely they would enjoy chicken eggs or other supplements, so keeping your ekans happy and healthy could be pretty straightforward. As an added bonus, ekans can shed their skin to cure themselves of numerous ailments, saving on cranky trips to the vet.

Surprisingly, given their typing, ekans would make good pets for all the snake-lovers out there. I'll admit, picturing one happily snoozing, wrapped around a cat tree does make me see the appeal.

#pokémon #pokemon #ekans #pkmn irl #the teal mask #PR-A

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rbb-travels-of-the-cube · 9 months

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*magics a properly sized life vest onto Blue Moon* that should keep you afloat at least. Now Blue Moon, buddy I need you to calm down. You are going to be okay.

A light blue and orange life vest appears on Blue Moon. The large bot flinching slightly before relaxing and clutching onto the object instead. Looking back to the cube with a hiss.

"The water disappears into vast beond! It could sweep me away until I'm gone!"

"um I don't you're going to disappear?"

Blue Moon's head snapped towards the new voice. A small sun-like animatronic froze under his gaze. He wore a bandana tied up tightly between his rays. Wearing a standard off-white blouse. He wore leather bracers. The strings that tied them together hanging loosely. He looks like he had standard jeans on. Although they were decorated with stripes. A heavy belt held them up. A gun in its holster.

"Good lordy! You're quick when you want to be!"

The staring contest between the assumed Sun of the universe and Blue Moon broke at the interruption. Blue Moon clutching to the mass as it swayed gently as Captain Eclipse made his way back on board. Absolutely drenched and his hat in hand. He promptly put it back on with a slight adjustment. The poor feather limping off to the side as he walked up to the two.

"So! I'm not one ta like bringing up bad news but I got ta ask ya some questions fella. I swear I saw you just appear above the water before ya started sinking. And I can't quite let you just be on the ship for freebies either."

Blue Moon growls slightly. But given how he was visibly shaking there wasn't much he was going to do to retaliate. He looked around momentarily taking in the sight of the ship.

It was a relatively small ship. The proper name would be a schooner. Big enough that it definitely needed more than two people to properly run it. The ship had a deep midnight blue for the hull. The sales were cast in a brilliant orange and black. Seemingly made to match the captain of the ship. It wasn't until there was a gentle Pat on Blue Moon's leg that he came back from his wandering.

The Sun looked nervous. Swing side to side for a moment. Finally seeming to straighten out his blouse and clear his throat.

"Eclipse wants to know what you can do to help on the ship. We also would like to know how you ended up in the water. Eclipse, his eyes these days aren't.. good."

"I can see just fine Sunny cup!"

"I don't think he just appeared out of!-"

"I came from a different world, a different place. I appeared so suddenly because I teleport from place to place"

". . . Oh."

"Ha!"

"Be quiet old man!"

"Hehehe. Anyways. What can you do on the ship my lad. You don't seem like the sea fairing type. I'll be fine teaching you a couple tricks, but you got to pay some~how!"

Blue Moon seemed to ponder for a minute. Looking up every once in a while to stare off and to the infinite ocean. Finally he seemed to come up with an idea. Looking downwards towards Captain Eclipse and Sun.

"there's not much I will do with the water or beasts. But I can control the wind to my whims and make it do as I please."

#magic is a coin Blue Moon just has #ask red blue and black #red blue and black #Stop ya silly siren #SySS Eclipse #SySS Sun #tsams au #sams #sams au #tsams #blue moon

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1975vintagelove · 8 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Crooks & Castles NEW The Good Fella Button Up Long Sleeve Cotton Men's Shirt XL.

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farthest-light · 1 year

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Chapter 1 - Page 3

Flunk carried a basket with some berries into the room and put them down next to the bed. “I brought some Orans and a Lum. Let’s start with this.” He picked up an Oran berry and pitched it into the blanket nest. It landed right next to Chime and rolled against her.

Havok jumped next to the Salandit and glared down at him. “Flunk! This is not how you treat a guest, especially not one who’s hurt.” Flunk froze and swallowed hard. Oops, I went too far. “I won’t do it again, I promise,” he croaked. “Good. I’m sorry for my colleague’s behavior. Now where were we? Oh, you’re already eating.” Chime chomped away at the Oran berry that was almost her own size. She chowed it down a bit too quickly for her hungry stomach, but each bite made her feel a little better regardless. Flunk picked up the Lum berry and gently rolled it into the nest. “This one will help if there’s still some statuses in you. It’s not a proper meal, but it gets the job done,” he mumbled. Havok cleared his throat. “Now that you have some bites in you, I’d like to ask you some questions, if that’s alright.” Chime responded with a jingling nod. “Great. First, can you tell me your name? I’m Havok and this grumpy fella is Flunk.” “I’m Chime,” she replied with more energy than before, which delighted Havok, but he tried to keep a serious face. “Nice to meet you, Chime. Next I’d like to ask you where you’re from, as you don’t seem to be from around here.” Her eyes were getting slightly teary as she looked down at the green berry in front of her. She shook herself and the tears off. “Alright. Can you tell me who hurt you?” Chime pressed her eyes shut and shook again. Havok was concerned about the lack of answers. Whatever had happened to that Chingling must have left serious emotional scars on her, but he already expected that to be the case. He contemplated his next words as Chime continued eating. “Do you have a home you can return to?” Havok asked with a gentle voice. Chime looked even sadder than before and she shook slowly. “And do you know anyone around here?” Her motion continued signaling further avoidance of the questions. “Then how about this. I’ll take you up into our Team Nighteyes. You’ll have a home and a family.” The Noivern smiled at her. Chime stopped and looked up at the Noivern. She didn’t know how to answer that question yet and her eyes mirrored her conflicted feelings. “Hold up, boss, you can’t just ask every hurt Pokemon you pick up to join the team!” Flunk contested. “I can and I will. You’ve heard her answers yourself! She has nowhere to go, so why wouldn’t we allow her to stay here?” “Well, I’m against it!” “I have heard your concern and I will overrule it!” Among the bickering, Chime was amused to see, the fear the Noivern’s reprimand had previously caused the Salandit was completely gone. She even managed to smile slightly. Havok then broke off from the argument and looked towards Chime. “But of course it’s not just our choice as a team, it’s Chime’s choice first. Say what, you don’t need to say yes or no immediately, I’ll give you some time to think. And if you do decide that you don’t want to join us, I will bring you to the nearest town and help you find a place there. So don’t feel forced to join us, but of course I’d love to have you around.” Flunk crossed his arms and looked away. Havok jumped towards the door, looking out for the door frame that just barely hung over his head. “I’m going to look for the others, I’m sure you’ll want to join us once you get to meet them. In the meantime, be so kind and keep our GUEST company, Flunk. Bye.” With wide steps and the audible flap of wings at the entrance of the cave, he was gone. “Fine,” Flunk scoffed.

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#pokemon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #pmd story #pokemon story #farthest light story #chingling #noivern #salandit #Chapter 1

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flannelepicurean · 1 year

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Okay, another one from the weirdo dream vault:

Was in a classroom, probably high school? But it looked like halfway Harry Potter nonsense building, basement level. All exposed brick and stuff, no windows. For some reason, I was character-presenting as a white girl with light-brown hair styled after Judy Garland in The Wizard of Oz, and a white and yellow eyelet lace dress of similar shape.

We were going around the room, giving our best life pro tips, and I was like, "Yeah?! Well, listen to this mic drop, homies! ALL Y'ALL WEARIN' THE WRONG SIZE BRA! INCLUDING THE DUDES!!!" in my most Jersey-est accent (I am not from Jersey). I then proceeded to give a lecture in proper bra measurement, and point them toward some resources for larger-cup bras.

Throughout, I kept sneaking increasingly suspicious glances at the teacher in his corner desk, a youngish fella with blond hair and an increasingly embarrassed, "Holy hell, I'm gonna get in so much administrative trouble for allowing this complete circus of a situation to occur" expression. And when one of the students hesitantly raised a hand to inform me that it was past 5:00pm, and could they all maybe...go? Please? I left off. Watched them all file from the room. Turned to the teacher with a knowing smile and cheekily declared:

"Bizazzles."

"Okay," he sighed, in his FULL, ENTIRE, 💯, GLORIOUS, BILLIAM ZABKA SELF. "So, what happens now?"

And I start scramblin' around, locking doors, looking under desks, checking corners, explaining how shit's about to get real weird, because now that I've gone lucid, my subconscious is gonna throw a tantrum and start springing traps and flippin' out and all sorts, because for some reason I can't dream inside of buildings in peace, so keep close and keep cool and do whatever I tell ya, okay?"

And he's like, "...What?"

And I'm like, "I'll explain later, I promise, just help me find my Chucks before--ah shit, there it goes, C'MON, DUDE, LET'S GO!"

And the walls start shifting, and we're ducking and darting and squeezing through mazes that weren't there before, and he's like, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK," and I'm like, "DUDE, FOCUS, LOOK FOR MY SHOES! BLACK SLIP-ONS! WHITE LACES! Ah, there they are, LET'S BAIL!"

Next thing you know, we're cruising down a pleasant little gravel lane in an extremely charming countryside, looks like a cute French indie film and a Studio Ghibli movie had a baby, on a bike that clearly belongs to me because not only am I steering/pedaling, but the back end is loaded to a cartoonish degree with all sorts of wicker baskets and bird cages and whatnots full of spell components and snacks.

And eventually we park it and take a seat in some picturesque grass, and I start making snacks. Really hobbit-y bread, fancy butter, sun-warmed blackberries. And he's still staring at me like, WTF. Because of course. And we start having a conversation about the nature of reality, and I try to explain some of the rules of my dreamscape, and how mercurial things are up in this piece, and how you just gotta go with the flow a bit and keep your wits about you and be flexible. And he continues to be flummoxed and stunned, as we wax philosophical, and eventually I just kinda shrug and go, "Dunno what to tell ya, man. It is what it is, innit?"

And he's like, "Yeah. Fair. Hm. Man, this is good butter."

And I'm like, "I know, right?!"

#this dream i had #brains are weird #delightful #i'm sure there's symbolism in there #bizazzles #billiam #billiam zabka #billy zabka #william zabka #lucid dreaming #lucid dream #dream character #conversation with dream character #dream logic #internal discourse #snacks #gotta have snacks #my life right now

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liamberryupsidedown · 2 years

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Little Fella

Yeah I'm drawing the little fella in my clothes (I don't own the shoes tho)

I also drew this doodle

I've been experimenting with all sorts of poses and I wanted to showcase some I like. Some cool some silly, I don't know if I'm going to be doing this in the future but I had a good time drawing them and learning how to draw. I also drew some proper poses, one of which I used in the first image. I drew funny images to free up my brain a little too.

Aswell as drawing a phantom jellyfish as a hat.

A phantom jellyfish is a species of jellyfish that is rare and lives over 3,000ft under the water. It is about the size of a whale shark and wraps it's giant tentacles around it's prey and shocks them. I thought the tentacles looked kinda like fabric or ribbon so I drew it as a clothing item.

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 2 years

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Could you do one with a plus size reader if not it’s cool

Peter’s Reward

TASM!Peter x plus size reader

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Peter finally gets his happiness.

A/N: Song lyrics are from Love Grows (Where My Rosemary Goes) by Edison Lighthouse

Warnings: just fluff I wanted to do a little fic about Peter finally being happy because he deserves it, brief mentions of anxieties and low self-esteem as well as injuries, no use of Y/N

WC: 702

Minors DNI

“…I’m a lucky fella and I just gotta tell her that I love her endlessly because love grows where my Rosemary goes and nobody knows like me…” The voice trailed off, but continued to hum the gentle melody that played softly through the house.

Peter groaned as he rolled over, stretching out his sore body, wincing as he strained a particularly tender spot just between two of his ribs. Just for a moment, he settled back into the bed, allowing himself to breathe, remembering what he had. He breathed out slowly then pulled himself up, reaching for his discarded shirt but not finding it on the floor where he left it.

A beautiful smile came over his face as he realised where it went. He casually strolled from the bedroom, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. There you were, the most gorgeous person he had ever seen, both inside and out.

You had actually known Spider-man before Peter Parker. You found him in an alley after a bad night of crime fighting. Being a nursing student, you dragged him into your apartment and carefully cleaned him up, taking care not to remove his mask as you stitched some of his more severe wounds. When he woke up, he was greeted with a container full of baked goods and a hand-written note on how to take proper care of his cuts and your number. ‘Even heroes need help sometimes.’

So, every once in a while he would swing over to that small apartment where he would be fed and watered and patched up. Ten minute visits turned into hours of chatting over cups of tea (his mask just pulled up enough to expose his lips) while you studied or cleaned.

Soon enough, he couldn’t stand it anymore. One day as you were sitting at the small kitchen table, humming as you poured over an anatomy textbook, Peter ripped his mask from his head and kissed you. He loved the way your plump stomach and chest fit against him. You were so warm and soft, a feeling that was immediately addicting to the superhero.

He loved everything about you, how you clutched his shirt as you kissed, those little sighs you gave out as he held you closer, the subtle scent of vanilla that seemed to always follow you around.

Things weren’t always perfect, they never are. You fought sometimes, usually over his safety or how hard you were working but it always ended up with you wrapped in each other’s arms at the end of the day. Then there were those times when your self-esteem would plummet and he’d bring you back up, pulling you back from falling into that dark pit. You held him close when his anxiety got too overwhelming, making him scream and cry or just go quiet for days at a time.

But there were moments when Peter looked at you and realised how lucky he was to have found you.

Those moments where you sat on the roof of your shared apartment so try and see some stars, those nights where he didn’t go out on patrol and just wrapped his arms around you as you swayed to soft music. It was like all his sacrifice, all his heartache had led him to your arms.

And now, as you danced around the kitchen, his white shirt stretched across your chest along with just a pair of underwear, he felt peace. His senses weren’t going haywire, he didn’t feel that constant gnawing in his gut for the need to go out and risk his life to protect people. He strode forward and wrapped his strong arms around your thick waist, whispering the words to the song into your ear as you continued to gather ingredients for cinnamon rolls, a personal favourite of his.

Peter buried his face in your neck, planting a soft kiss on your warm skin, his fluffy brown hair tickling you slightly. “I love you.” You lift his head and gaze into those gorgeous brown eyes with flecks of green that always have the perfect puppy-dog look. You kiss his lips gently.

“I love you more.”

You were his love, his life, his protector, his reward.

Taglist

@im-a-slut-for-fluff

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b-yeonder · 4 years

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Bringing Them Breakfast in Bed (Brothers + Undateables)

LUCIFER:

When you walk in balancing the breakfast tray Lucifer is already sat up in bed checking his D.D.D for any important news from RAD, but his attention is quickly diverted to you. The spread you offer him? Buttered toast, two different types of jam in cute little decorative jars, a full wine glass, and a cup of tea. "Wine in the morning? What do you take me for," he chuckles putting his phone down. Grinning you tell him that it's just grape juice to which he laughs and accepts the tray from you with a sincere thank you. Finds it incredibly endearing and can't stop smiling - calls you his good girl/boy with a wink. Will definitely put him in a good mood for the rest of the day.

MAMMON:

"For me? All of it? Really?" Yup! He's flabbergasted, blinking stupidly with his mouth hanging open as his cheeks redden before eventually catching himself and clearing his throat, putting on his usual bravado. "Well damn, I definitely deserve this huh, being the Great Mammon after all!" Cheeks are still red despite his demeanor change. Takes the tray and starts tucking in with gusto. "Ya gonna help me with this right? Here, I'll feed ya a pancake look--" He does, insisting on feeding it to you by hand and is a happy bubbly fella all morning. Why? Because his human pampered him and he feels s p e c i a l. (Because he is, of course.)

LEVIATHAN:

Shakes off his tiredness in an instant when he realises what you're handing him. "Is this that Limited Edition Ruri-chan cereal!? WHOOOAAH!" A million thank yous before he takes a million pictures to post on his social media and is loathe to eat it but it looks so good and ohhh man he's caved already and it IS good! You can't help but laugh at him as he eats it with his eyes closed, humming happily. "I can't believe you got these. Just for me? Really? Like, the whole box, you don't want any at all?" Blushes reaaal hard once it dawns on him how difficult it must have been for you to get and that you made all the effort for him and him only. "What if I feed you a spoonful? They're really good." Blushy blush, hide behind that fringe cutie pie.

SATAN:

"Ohh well well well, what have we here?" A smirk as you hand him his tray. Freezes when he sees what's on his plate and his cheeks redden quickly. You can't help but grin as he just stares. Cat pancakes. Cat-head shaped pancakes with syrupy faces. "You okay there?" "I....they're..." He clears his throat and blinks up at you. "Cute right?" Your grin widens as he nods. "I don't know if I can eat them..." At his mumbled confession you laugh and plop next to him on the bed, offering to feed them to him which has him blushing more. What can I say, sleepy morning bedhead Satan is easily flustered.

ASMODEUS:

"Oh darling this is amazing! But really all you had to do was show up nude and that would have been all the breakfast I need--" "ASMO!" He giggles and licks his lips at the delicious looking spread laid before him. "G A S P, is this GLITTERY JAM!?" "Yes! Isn't it cool?" Squeals and tucks in, rolling his eyes in his head. "Oh my gosh it tastes as good as it looks. This would make a good lipstick colour, we should go looking for one later." Uses it as an opportunity to gossip and get a few little flirtatious moves in before the day has even started. Dabbing jam on your nose just to lick it off making you snort with laughter and shove him away.

BEELZEBUB:

Presented with a full English breakfast, a giant stack of pancakes, and orange juice his eyes are the size of saucers as his pupils flick from the food to you. "What's wrong, handsome?" "I'm trying to decide what I want to eat more right now - the food or you." Because yes the poor sausage is overwhelmed and gets hard with excitement over all the deliciousness before him. Ends up shoving some egg in his gob followed by a pancake and half of the orange juice before pouncing on you. "Lemme love you!" "BEEEL-!" He's grinning and smothering you with breakfasty smooches leaving you a giggling mess. (Would want to finish his breakfast with you wrapped in his arms after he’s had his way because hugs and food are the best.)

BELPHEGOR:

"I've never seen you eat breakfast so I didn't know what to make you therefore I am serving myself," you say, gesturing to yourself with a flourish. "Perfect." Instantly grabs you and starts biting and gnawing at you making you erupt in a fit of giggles and try to push him off. "Mmmm human, so delicious!" Keeps going, pinning you down and climbing on top. "BELPHIE STOP THAT TICKLES." Evil grin plastered on his face, eventually ends the antics with a kiss on your nose. Then bites it. "Just for future reference though, I love a good omelette. Make me one of those and I'm yours forever." "You're not already mine forever?" "No, you suck, make me an omelette." Collapses on top of you so you can't go and make one even if he wasn't just winding you up.

DIAVOLO:

Has a massive grin on his face the moment you set foot in his room, getting even bigger when he sees you've brought food. You serve it professionally, pretending to be Barbatos and making him laugh. "Your breakfast, young Master." "Ooo, my birthday must have come early?" Devours everything eagerly, insisting on sharing with you no matter how much you protested. "Come now, you deserve to taste the fruit of your labours. It's wonderful!" Like a big kid, smothers you with kisses when he's done. "I'll have to think of a proper way to repay you..."

BARBATOS:

Completely taken by surprise - it was usually him that was serving meals after all and here you were up at an even earlier hour than him handing him a breakfast tray? Doesn't know what to say at first, eyes roaming over the food you'd prepared for him until he spots the little flower-shaped strawberries you'd cut for him - something he'd done for you once to cheer you up when you were sick. "Seeee," you say with a playful nudge as you settle next to him. "I've been learning." "You have...this looks wonderful, thank you." He leans over to press a delicate kiss to your lips and you mumble a quiet you're welcome against them. The two of you share a rare moment of solitude chatting idly and enjoying each others' company before another busy day at the Palace begins.

SOLOMON:

Eyes you and the food suspiciously. "You trying to poison me again?" "Dude it was just gone-off milk it wouldn't have killed you. Also that was a whole year ago why are you still holding that against me?" "Yeah well..." Sniffs it just to be sure then flashes you a playful smile. "I'm just messing. This looks really good - thanks." Halfway through tucking in: "Y'know I'd offer to return the favour but you'd probably die so I won't bother." "Yeah please don't," you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. "Although....what if you were my breakfast next time? Worth a thought," he mused, tapping his spoon against his bottom lip as you rolled your eyes.

SIMEON:

Oh...this is awkward... You both are bearing breakfast trays intended for the other. Burst into laughter you make your way to his room where you swap trays and tuck in. "I can't believe this..." "We're too in tune with each other," Simeon smiles, sipping at his tea. "Yeah, I guess we are." The food was delicious - heavenly even and you found yourself closing your eyes from pleasure while eating it. "This is amazing, Sims." "Glad you like it," he replied with a grin. "You've made these eggs perfectly." "I'll have to make them for you more often." "I'd like that a lot." Simeon definitely tries feeding you at one point, laughing sweetly at your eagerness to take it from him.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me solomon #obey me simeon #obey me undateables

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telemna-hyelle · 2 years

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A Hero of Her Own (A happy birthday to Spirit Tracks)

So, I only managed to get half of this written yesterday, so it's a belated happy birthday. Still, Spirit Tracks was the first Zelda game I noticed and wanted to play, all the way back when I was nine, so I wanted to write something to celebrate.

And of course I threw in homages to Wind Waker, cause apparently I can't write about Spirit Tracks without writing about Wind Waker.

So, anyway, without further ado~

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SPIRIT TRACKS

“And there I was,” Grandpoppy said, leaning forward and hushing his voice. “Water lapping at my feet, my arm feeling like it’d been torn off, Ganondorf laughing, my sword gone—and then I heard her voice.”

Zelda sucked in a breath, her legs doing a happy squiggle beneath the quilts. This was her favourite part.

Grandpoppy’s smile was nostalgic, staring back into the distant past. “The first thing she did was yell an insult at Ganondorf, but then she turned to me and winked and said, ‘I’m sorry! I over slept!’”

Zelda’s entire body squiggled this time, little fists pulling at the blanket, eyes wide.

“And that,” Grandpoppy said with a twinkle in his eye and a wide smile, “was when I first thought ‘holy crap, I want to marry her’.”

Zelda let out a little squeal, muffled into the quilts she had clutched to her face. Grandpoppy watched her and chuckled softly as she flopped back, an excited grin over her face. After a moment of happy thrashing, Zelda suddenly departed from routine by popping back up, a curious expression on her face. “So is that when you fell in love with Grandmama?”

Grandpoppy raised his eyebrows and let out a big, booming laugh, stroking his beard thoughtfully. “Hmm, well, I dunno about that. I was only twelve back then, and that’s a bit young to be really falling in love. But I’d been noticing your Grandmama for a while, and that moment was all that ‘noticing’ really coming together so I could properly realize it.”

Zelda frowned, trying to figure this out. These were deep waters for a six-year-old. “So when did you fall I love with Grandmama?”

“Slowly.” Grandpoppy said with a nostalgic smile. “In little pieces and little choices over the years. I never really stoppedthinking ‘I want to marry her’, but when I was older I realized what that really meant… and I realized I wanted it all the more.” His thumb stroked the old, scratched gleam of gold around his third finger. “Because there’s no one like your Grandmama in all the Great Sea and beyond, and I wanted to be by her side forever.”

Zelda snatched up Mr. Makar (one of her favorite stuffies) and squeezed him, resting her chin on his head, and sighed, her expression faintly starry-eyed. “I wanna meet a hero some day.”

“Oh?” Grandpoppy raised a bushy eyebrow. “Am I not good enough for you, seagull?”

“But I can’t marry you Grandpoppy!” Zelda protested. “So I need to find my own, so I can marry him!”

Grandpoppy burst into laughter again, reaching out and ruffling Zelda’s hair. “Ah, that makes sense.” His laughter died off for a moment, a faint frown furrowing his brow. When he spoke his voice was quiet.

“I should hope you never meet a proper hero, seagull.”

Zelda was only six, and didn’t understand the meaning behind that.

A hero only arises if there is danger to face, and I would rather you never face such danger.

“Still,” Grandpoppy said, banishing his frown and stroking his beard with a smile. “When you do get old enough to have your eyes on a fella,” he lowered his bushy eyebrows, shooting her a mock stern look that he ruined a moment later with a not-too-subtle wink, “Which ain’t gonna be for a long time, missy—not until you’re thirty—or sixty!”

Zelda let out a giggle. “I don’t wanna wait till I’m sixty, Grandpoppy!”

“We-ell,” Grandpoppy drew the word out, “Maybe not thatlong, but it better not be anytime soon. You’re still half-pint size, and that’s too small to be making googly eyes at boys.” He ruffled her hair again, and she giggled even harder.

“Still,” the King said, after a moment, “Looking for traits a hero would have ain’t a half bad idea.”

The princess blinked, eyes wide. “Really?”

“Really,” Grandpoppy said with a solemn nod.

“What sort of traits?”

Grandpoppy stroked his beard again. “Well, at the risk o’ sounding conceited, someone who’s kind, loyal and brave, who’ll treat you like a princess,” He winked at his granddaughter as giggled, “help you look after the kingdom, and who’ll stand by your side no matter what.”

Zelda considered this carefully, then nodded in approval. “That sounds nice.”

“I’m glad,” Grandpoppy chuckled, and patted her head. “So shall I continue with the story, now?”

“Yes, please!”

A little later, when the story was finished, and Zelda was being carefully tucked back beneath her quilts (having been greatly disturbed by her excited bouncing and waving about of Mr. Makar and Mr. Red Lion), she asked, “How did Grandmama fall in love with you, Grandpoppy?”

Grandpoppy raised a bushy eyebrow. “I think that’s a story you’ll have to ask your Grandmama—” and when Zelda looked as if she were about to bounce out of bed—“In the morning. As for now, go to bed, seagull.”

Zelda pouted, but obediently snuggled beneath her quilt, squeezing Mr. Makar and Mr. Red Lion tightly and closing her eyes as Grandpoppy blew out the lamp.

“Goodnight, seagull, and see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Grandpoppy, and see you in the morning!”

And Zelda went off to sleep, and dreamed of old oceans and older forest and even older skies, and of a hero of her own who would love her the way Grandpoppy loved Grandmama.

~.~ ~.~ ~.~

That was a long time ago, though. Grandpoppy and Grandmama were gone, and so were Papa and Mama, and it was just Zelda now.

Well, Zelda and Link.

She eyed him shyly from where she floated above the train. He was hard at work, grinning in delight as the wind flapped at his long green cap, whistling cheerfully as they chugged along the tracks.

She understood now why her Grandpoppy never wanted her to meet a hero. After all, here she was now, without a body and her kingdom in deadly peril. Still… if there was a bright side to all of this, it allowed her to get to know Link.

He was a hero, just like the one from Grandpoppy’s or Teacher’s stories, courageous and clad in green; what’s more (the most important part) he was everything Grandpoppy had told her about all those years ago.

Kind. Loyal. Brave. Who treated her like a princess (and not just because she was one), who helped her look after the kingdom.

Who, even now, was standing by her side, despite the looming shadow of a Demon King.

It certainly made her heart race (or whatever passed for one, now she was a spirit and all), and the more she spent time with him, the more she felt that way.

How had Grandpoppy put it? Slowly, in little pieces and little choices, she was realizing how much she wanted to grow close to and spend time with, with… well, with her hero.

Not that she had much hope of him thinking the same way about her. She wasn’t silly, she knew she was nowhere near half as amazing as her Grandmama. She couldn’t even manage to keep ahold of her own body!

Still… She was pretty sure they were friends, now, and that was wonderful beyond words.

“Are you all right?”

The voice shocked her out of her musings, and she spun in mid-air to face Link. He was looking at her carefully, his brows drawn together in concern that made her feel even more light and floaty than normal.

“What?”

Excellent job, Zelda, the princess thought despairingly. That’s an intelligent response.

“I mean—well—” Link swallowed hard. “It looked like you were upset about something, and I wondered if—if there was anything I could do to help?”

Zelda blinked at him, and all of a sudden felt like crying—but a good sort of crying. Because this was proof he cared, even if only as a friend. That she wasn’t alone, not with such a hero to stand by her side.

Still, she couldn’t exactly tell him what she was thinking about.

So she smiled instead. “I was just thinking about what we’re going to do when we face down Malladus!” She clenched her fists and punched the air, just like Alfonzo had taught her. “I’m going to give that nasty demon a piece of my mind!”

Link blinked at her, then laughed, a wide grin stretching across his face. “That sounds great, but be sure to save some for me!” “Don’t worry!” Zelda chirped. “There’s plenty of Demon King to go around, I’m sure.” And with that, she swirled off to dance on the winds sweeping along the train, her heart soaring along with her spirit.

What she didn’t know was that Link’s gaze followed her, and the only coherent thought in his brain was “Holy crap, I want to marry her someday.”

#loz spirit tracks #Happy Birthday Spirit Tracks!!!#a belated happy birthday but a happy birthday nonetheless #tellie writes stuff #my fanfics #spirit tracks zelink #loz wind waker #wind waker zelink #zelda #link #grandpa wind

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bittydragon · 3 years

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The Ant King

Note: Huge thanks to Bittydragon for inspiring me to write this. I’ll be honest, this is the first fic I've ever actually written, as well as the only piece of creative fiction I've written in like two years so… fingers crossed it goes well hahaha.

TW: tight spaces, darkness, uh,,, bugs i guess. Near death experience

There are things you have to know about ants when you get an ant farm. Basic fundamentals. What to feed them, how to keep them alive, what type of ants you have, etcetera. Even if your intentions were… torturous. After all, you need to know what makes something tick in order to make it stop.

One of the more common facts about ants is that every colony has a queen. She orders her ants to keep her alive so she can make more ants. Simple biology, the continuation of a species. Every nest has a queen, or it dies.

Apparently, this colony didn’t get the memo.

These thoughts buzzed in grumpy circles around Wilbur's’ head as he followed his ant companion, Tommy, deeper into the ant-farm. They had been wandering these tunnels for what felt like days now, in the center of the farm so there were no glass barriers to show the outside world. They were deep too. Almost at the bottom of the compound. Wilbur was not one to show fear, but even he was beginning to get claustrophobic.

Tommy, who up until now had been jabbering like a toddler the whole trip through the ant-farm had also gone uncharacteristically silent. The whole trip Wilbur had wanted nothing more than a few seconds of quiet from him, but now he missed the carefree noise.

They were on their way to see the ant King. A type of ant that, as far as Wilbur knew, didn’t exist. So either they were on a wild goose chase, or Will was way out of his depth.

The further they went, the more he was convinced it was the latter.

“Tommy do you-” Wilbur paused, his echoing voice in the tunnel almost felt like a taboo. An affront to the maddening silence that stalked them. He lowered his voice.

“Do you think… Will I ever get back to normal? Will the ant king change me back?” He hated that little quiver in his voice. He hated the uncertainty. The waiting.

Tommy continued to march forward silently, pondering the question.

“I dunno big man, I think you’ve changed heaps since you got here.” He turned his head to flash Wilbur a grin “Then you’ll be out there and all nice n shit. It’ll be poggers.”

The tunnel was dark, but not dark enough to hide the flash of uncertainty in Tommy’s eyes.

Wilbur's heart sank. “Thanks mate.” He mumbled, and they trekked on, once more in silence.

By the time they saw light, it felt like they had been walking for days. Wilbur was almost glad he was about to meet possibly one of the most powerful ants in this colony. They rounded one last bend, and they were there.

Before them stood a huge double door set in the wall. Two vines with some kind of glowing fruit framed the door, shedding light on the small space. In front of the door, leaning on a spear made from a twig was another ant with a pair of large white rimmed goggles.

“Well… This is it I guess.” Wilbur muttered. He cleared his throat “Hey, um. I-i’m here to have an audience with the King? If that's alright.”

The guard ant didn’t respond, continuing to stare at them with no discernible expression.

“H-hello?” Wilbur glanced at Tommy, who shrugged.

“Excuse me? Anyone home?” Wilbur snapped his fingers in front of the ant's face.

He seemed to startle slightly, before slumping down a bit and letting out a loud snore.

“What the fuck” Tommy said.

Before anyone could do much of anything, one of the massive double doors creaked open and a voice came through.

“George, I swear if you fell asleep again, I'm going to rip off your antenna and use them as- oh.”

Another ant entered the room, this one also carried a twig-spear and had a strip of white cloth tied around his forehead. As soon as his gaze landed on Wilbur, his expression soured.

If looks could kill… Wilbur thought nervously

“It’s you” The new ant spat “Took your sweet time getting here Soot. Earthquake slow you down? Didja get a taste of your own medicine from your big pals out there?”

Wilbur pursed his lips, and the ant snorted. “Yeah. Thought so.” He walked forward and gave George a hard shove, sending the other ant sprawling with a startled yelp.

“Sapnap what the hell?!” He snapped, before spotting Wilbur and Tommy. “Oh hey. That guy is here.”

“Yeah he’s here, idiot.” Sapnap smacked George over the head with his spear “And we would have known a lot sooner if you hadn't fallen asleep on duty again!”

“OW! Sapnap stop! Get off me!”

Wilbur cleared his throat, drawing their attention “Sorry to interrupt, but me and my friend have been walking for a long, long time, so could we please have an audience with the King?”

Subpoena glared “Yeah. He’s waiting for you. Against my advice, he wants to see you.”

Oh. That… didn’t sound great.

Wilbur tried not to think about the implications of that statement as he approached the double doors. Tommy moved to follow, but was stopped by the guards.

“Hey!” He groused “Let me through dickheads!”

“I'm afraid the King only wants an audience with the great and powerful Wilbur Soot” Sapnap said with a smirk.

“But I want to go too! Let me in! You stupid ugly bitch ill fight you! You may have a fancy stick but just wait until I pull out my knife-gun!”

“Tommy its fine.” Wilbur interrupted “I’ll be fine mate, promise. Just wait here. I wont leave without saying goodbye.”

The last thing he saw was Tommy’s antenna drooping sadly, before the doors swung closed behind him.

If Wilbur thought the tunnel was dark before, that was nothing compared to the room he was in now. The darkness was so thick, so absolute, that it made no difference if his eyes were open or closed.

“Hello?” Wilbur called “Uh… your majesty? I was told that you wanted to see me.”

His voice echoed slightly in the huge space, but there was no reply.

Wait. What was that? Something rasped ever so slowly across the opposite wall. Something big. As it moved, the moss where it had been standing glowed a dull green.

Bio-luminescence Wilbur reasoned. Trying to distract himself from the fear creeping up his spine. Touch activated, it seems.

He swallowed dryly “L-look, just tell me what you want. I’m not here to cause trouble”

The thing moved again, its raspy scuttle reverberated through the chamber.

“Wilbur Soot, not here to cause any trouble” A thoughtful voice hummed from the dark “Now that’s a first.”

The bio-luminescent moss was lighting up more of the room. If he squinted, Wilbur could make out a... leg. Probably.

Wilbur inches slowly to the side, the moss lighting up his own path. “Okay, I get it, I've done morally questionable things in the past, but I've learned a lot from my time here. I’m sorry.”

“For now” The voice replied. The thing was moving on the other side, matching him step for step. “What's to say you aren't faking remorse to get out of here? And maybe you really are sorry. How can I be sure you wont change your mind the second you're back to normal? It's too much of a risk.”

Wilbur continued to back away nervously “Your majesty-”

“Please, call me Dream. Everyone else does.”

“Right… Dream. I can say with 100% certainty that won't happen. I've seen people die in front of me. That’s enough to change anyone's stance on something.”

“And yet I'm still not convinced.” It was moving faster now, scuttling across the floor, walls and even across the ceiling. Wilbur's head spun with the motion. “And since we’re talking in hypotheticals, riddle me this: Whoever said I was going to let you out anyway? What if I just like to play with my food?”

Dream stopped suddenly, rearing over Wilbur, and with all of the lit up moss, he got his first proper look.

This ant was huge. Twice- no, at least three times the size of Wilbur himself. He looked a bit like a centaur, with a human torso connected to a pure white and thorax and abdomen.He also wore a strange white mask with a blank eyed smiley face drawn on.

Two huge claw arms- similar to those of a praying mantis- extended from Dreams waist and slammed into the dirt either side of Wilbur, startling him enough that he fell onto his ass. The king leaned forward with that lifeless grin, and Will closed his eyes, preparing for the end.

“But…” Dream said thoughtfully “A proper experiment should account and test for all variables, shouldn't it?”

“Y-yeah generally” Wilbur stuttered

“Oh good.” Dream hoisted him roughly to his feet. “I’m glad I asked you. After all, you know all about experiments, don’t you?”

Wilbur chose not to answer, glowering at Dream as the eyes on his mask briefly glowed a dull green.

A moment later, Sapnap and George marched in, dragging a cussing and struggling Tommy behind them.

“YOU STUPID MOTHEFUCKERS!!! Let me go or ill get married in rage!! Fuck you and-! Oh. wow that is a big fella.” Tommy stopped and stared in awe at Dream

“Sapnap, give Wilbur your spear.” Dream ordered.

A flicker of doubt crossed Sapnaps face but he obediently shoved the spear into Wilbur's hands.

“I’ll make you a deal, Wilbur Soot.” Dream purred, circling him. “I will let you go to your old life. You can do whatever you like; kill us, torment us, throw us away… it doesn't matter. All you have to do is kill one ant.” He gestured to Tommy.

“What?” Wilbur whispered.

“WHAT?!” Tommy roared “fuck you! I'm not your dumb-ass pawn, I'm going to kill you! Rrrrrrrrrrr!” he writhed, attempting to bite George who did a surprisingly good job of holding him still.

“Go on.” Dream cooed “It's just one insignificant ant standing between you and freedom. You've killed hundreds. What's one more?”

Spear in hand, Wilbur took a hesitant step forward.

Tommy's gaze snapped up “Wilby?” He asked, his struggling pausing for a moment.

Their eyes met, fear clashing with sorrow. Tommy seemed to see something in Wilbur's expression and hung his head in defeat. As if he had expected Wilbur to betray him.

Oh hell no. Fuck that. Wilbur angrily tossed the spear aside.

“No. I won't.”

“What?” Dream spat

Wilbur rounded on him “No! I won't kill him! Keep me here, kill me, hunt me for sport, whatever! Just leave him out of this! Tommy has been nothing but nice to me since I met him, even though it don't deserve it!” He rubbed his arm. “God knows I don't deserve it.”

“Hmm…” Dream hummed “Are you sure, even if it costs you your life?” One of Dream's massive claw arms grazed his side, a subtle threat.

Wilbur looked over at Tommy, who had a look of hope on his face.

“Yeah.” Will smiled, “I'm sure.”

I probably could have written more, but i wont. I hope you like this fic bitty! Thanks for reading :)

Edit: Fortune, this is amazing! Like, I hadn't really thought about this encounter in a lot of detail, but I honestly like this a lot! And Dream being a big boy since he's the king ant. Just yes. Thank you so much for this.

#submission #fan work #tiny!tommy #tiny!wilbur #tiny!dream #tiny!sapnap #tiny!george #giant!dream?#maybe?#mcyt gt #thank you again!#betmyfortune

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calpalirwin · 3 years

Text

Think of Me

Summary: You hope the war doesn’t make Bucky forget about you.

A/N: I’m deep in my T-Swift phase again. Deal with it 😎

Word count: 3k

And away, and away we go!

You made pleasant conversation with the bartender as you sat on your stool. “You think this is the night a handsome man finally asks me to dance?” you pondered aloud.

“If they do, will you stop bothering me?” Charlie asked in a playful tone.

“What would you do if I wasn’t here bothering you?”

“Probably my actual job before the boss fires me.”

You laughed, then sighed, drumming your fingers on the bartop. “Seriously though, Charlie. Is it me? You would tell me if it was me, right?”

The bartender shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t think I’m qualified to answer that.”

“Well, why are you friends with me?”

“You tip well.”

“Ha-ha,” you deadpanned, throwing your straw wrapper at him.

“Look, it could very well be that you’re the only dame in this place talking with the bartender. That doesn’t exactly make a fella feel confident in approaching you.”

“Oh, so it’s you? Good to know,” you laughed again.

“I am very intimidating,” he winked, puffing out his chest as his eyes spotted a man walking your way. “But apparently not intimidating enough,” he whispered, nodding his head behind you before going down the bar to help another customer.

“Charlie!” you hissed as someone behind you cleared their throat. “Excuse me, miss?”

You turned on your stool to look at the stranger. He was dressed simply in a crisp button down shirt tucked into dark dress pants, a suit jacket draped over his arm. His brown hair was cut neatly atop his head, and his face was clean-shaven, giving you an unfiltered view of his strong jawline. Soft blue eyes searched your face as they waited for an answer, equally soft pink lips parted slightly on a perfect mouth. “Yes?” you asked, smiling at the man.

“I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?”

“Me?” he asked, pink dusting his cheeks.

“And who’s me?”

“James,” he introduced, offering you his hand.

Instead of shaking it, you used it to rise to your feet, pulling him towards the dance floor.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” he laughed, happily trailing after you. “Do I get to know your name, pretty girl?”

“Let’s see how well you dance first, James,” you winked, spinning slightly to face him, looping your hands behind his neck.

James rested his hands lightly on your hips, guiding the both of you to the beat of the music the band was playing.

“So, James,” you said, tilting your head upwards to look at him. “This isn’t a pity dance is it?”

“A pity dance?” he questioned in confusion.

“Well yes. It’s quite strange, after all. I complain to Charlie about how much I’d like for someone to ask me to dance, and suddenly you appear? Tad coincidental, isn’t it?”

“It is because I can assure you of two things. 1.) I don’t ask girls to dance out of pity. 2.) I’ve been trying to pluck up the courage for the better part of an hour, from where I was sitting over there,” he nodded his head towards a booth near the back of the bar, “so there’s no way I could’ve heard whatever you were talking to Charlie about.”

“Good,” you decided, liking his answer. “You should ask me to dance more often,” you added as the song ended and you unlooped your hands from his neck, his own hands staying on your waist.

“Will you tell me your name if I do?”

“Y/N.”

“Keep dancing with me, Y/N.”

~~~

You kept dancing with James right up until the night before he left for basic training. “I’m gonna miss you, James,” you told him, as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat mark time.

“3 months will go faster than you think, and we can write all the time.”

“3 months, and then you go off to war for God knows how long.”

“But I’ll get furloughed for a bit before I leave. And then we can keep writing to each other.”

“You won’t forget about me will you?”

“How could I forget you when you’re all I ever think about?”

Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked up at him, “You really think of me?”

“All the time,” he nodded.

“Thinks about you, talks about you. It’s all Buck does,” Steve teased from his seat nearby, causing the three of you to laugh.

“Buck,” you repeated, the nickname foreign on your tongue no matter how often you had heard Steve call James “Buck” since you met the smaller man. “I don’t think I could ever call you anything other than ‘James’.”

“That’s fine. I like it when you call me ‘James’.”

“That’s a high compliment considering he usually hates being called ‘James.’ Makes him feel like he’s about to get into trouble.”

“Cuz usually when someone’s calling me ‘James,’ I am in trouble.”

“That’s because you are trouble,” both you and Steve told him.

“Mmm, but you love me that way,” James told you specifically.

“That I do,” you agreed wholeheartedly.

“3 months,” he promised. “3 months and we’ll be right back here. And until then I’ll be missing you like crazy, and thinking about you every day.”

“You better, James Barnes.”

“How could I do anything else? But you two gotta promise me something.”

“Anything,” you nodded while Steve answered with “Promise what, Buck?”

“That you’ll look after each other for me. And that you won’t do anything stupid until I get back.”

“That’s two promises,” you pointed out while Steve asked, “How can we when you’re taking all the stupid with you?”

James laughed. “I’m serious. Look after each other and nothing stupid. Promise me.”

“We promise.”

~~~

Dearest James,

Hope basic training is treating you well. Things are going okay here. Steve won’t admit it, but he misses you a lot. We still go to Charlie’s Bar, but without you it doesn’t feel the same. Even when Steve tries to be nice and asks me to dance. But dancing’s not the same if it’s not with you. Hope you’re thinking of us.

All my love,

Y/N

You pressed your lips to the paper, staining it with a lipstick mark, before sealing the letter.

Dearest Y/N,

It’s hot and miserable here. And there’s no pretty girls to dance with. At least you have a dancing partner. Although, I wouldn’t recommend dancing with Steve. Don’t tell him, but he’s lousy at it. But lousy dancing is still better than no dancing, and even if it’s not the same, you should try because I know how happy dancing makes you. Just be sure to save me a dance for when I get home.

Thinking of you always,

James

You inhaled the spritz of his cologne that clung to the letter, clutching the paper tightly in your hands.

~~~

You sat quietly next to Steve in the dark movie theater, watching the advertisement for the war on the screen. “Who cares?” a voice a few rows up scoffed at the screen. “Play the movie already.”

You and Steve shared a look, and you shook your head as Steve leaned forward slightly. “Hey, you wanna show some respect?” he asked in a whisper.

“Let’s go! Get on with it! Hey, just start the cartoon!” the man continued to yell, causing more people to look his way.

“Hey, you wanna shut up?” Steve tried again, making his voice louder.

The man rose from his seat, turning to look at you and Steve. “Steve, don’t,” you pleaded.

“You wanna take this outside, pal?” the man asked.

“I’d like for you to go outside, so I can watch my movie in peace, yes,” Steve answered.

“C’mon, tough guy, let’s go then.”

“Steve!” you hissed as both men headed for the exit. Reluctantly, you got up to follow. “This has just been a misunderstanding,” you tried to defuse, shielding your eyes from the sunshine outside the theater. “Let’s just all go back inside a- Oh!” Your sentence ended abruptly in a gasp as the man punched Steve square in the face, sending him clattering into some trash cans cluttering the alley. “Okay, that was unnecessary.”

“It’s fine, Y/N,” Steve told you as he staggered to his feet, raising his fists defensively. “Go back inside.”

“You should listen to your boyfriend, sweetheart,” the man sneered, hitting Steve again.

“We’re friends,” both you and Steve said, as Steve grabbed a trash can lid to use as a shield. “And you’re both being ridiculous. You were being very rude inside, and all my friend did was ask you to stop. There’s no reason for you to h- Oh, my God!” you shrieked in outrage and shock as the man ripped away the trash can lid and hit Steve for a third time.

“Your friend just doesn’t know when to give up, does he, sweetheart?”

“Says the man who just hit him three times for no good reason!”

“I can do this all day,” Steve panted, blood smeared in the corner of his mouth from a busted lip. He raised his fists, taking his own swing at the man who easily blocked it and hit Steve for the fourth time.

As Steve fell face first into the trash cans, you shrieked again, hoping someone could hear the disagreement and could offer some help.

“Hey!” A man in a soldier’s uniform came jogging down the alleyway, grabbing the man by his bicep and pulling him backwards, away from Steve. “Pick on someone your own size.”

“James!” you cried out happily.

“One second, doll,” he told you as the man took a swing at him and missed. James wasted no time in hitting the man back, then kicking him as he hobbled away. “You know, sometimes I think you like getting punched,” James told Steve, helping the smaller man back onto his feet.

“I had him on the ropes,” Steve said.

“No, you didn’t,” both you and James chuckled.

“When did you get back?” Steve asked.

“This morning. Was on my way to Charlie’s Bar when I saw neither of you were home.”

“When do you go back?” you asked.

“Can I get a proper hello first?” he asked, flashing you a smile.

“I’ve missed you,” you confessed, crashing into him, and feeling his arms wrap around you tightly.

“I’ve missed you, too,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How long do we have together?”

“I ship off to London next week.”

You sighed, your body slumping against his.

“Hey,” he soothed. “C’mon, don’t do that yet. We have a whole week first. Let’s make the best of it, hmm?”

“Okay,” you sniffed, giving him a nod. “Okay.”

“That’s my girl,” he beamed proudly. “Now c’mon. You owe me a dance. And an explanation for why you let Steve try to fight a man twice his size.”

“I tried to stop him,” you giggled, as you and James broke the hug, but he kept one of his arms still wrapped around.

“She did,” Steve agreed, coming to your defense. “But, that guy was out of line.”

“He was,” you confirmed. “Very rude.”

James chuckled. “What am I ever gonna do with the two of you, huh?”

~~~

While you and James spent every spare second of the week together, you found yourself wishing for more as you stood on the pier with him, the ship waiting to take him away. “Promise you’ll write when you can,” you said sternly as your bottom lip quivered.

“Of course,” he promised, his hands cradling your face, thumbs catching the stray tears as they fell.

“And that you’ll think of me all the time, and you’ll-” the words spilled from your mouth, before a sob broke free.

“I’ll come home,” he whispered, pressing a featherlight kiss to your forehead. “And I’m gonna want to dance with my favorite girl when I come back. So you save me a dance, okay?”

The foghorn from the ship went off, signalling it was time to go. “Come home to me, or so help me, James, I swear-”

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he chuckled, pressing another kiss to your forehead, before looking over your shoulder at Steve. “Look after each other for me.”

Steve nodded, as you pressed your lips into James’ “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

“I love you too, my favorite girl,” he said, giving you a searing kiss.

~~~

The letters were further and farther in between as James traveled with his regiment across Europe, which you supposed was the for the best as it meant he couldn’t tell how much you actually cried over him.

It got worse when Steve left in James’ footsteps, finding his own way to join the war effort despite all his rejections.

Brooklyn never felt so lonely, and passing Charlie’s Bar was a painful stab in your side. So you packed what few belongings you had and moved out of state, and away from the familiar streets that reminded you of him. You had the thought of writing a new letter, to send it that last address you had for James, so he would have your new one as well. But remembering how your last letter had gone unanswered, you didn’t wait to feel the hope and disappointment of waiting for the mail.

You settled into your new James-less life, the memories of the single summer you had shared living both in your head and in the shoebox of letters under your bed.

It was hard not to find it all bittersweet. A 4 month long affair spent mostly apart, but the nights spent dancing, or laying against his chest were still the best moments of your life. The greatest love story of your life with no clear ending. And as much as you moved on, you didn’t, still clinging on to the hope that’d he keep his word of coming back to you. After all, he’d always kept his word before.

When the war drew to a close, and stories of soldiers coming home started covering the front pages, you packed your things again, and moved back to Brooklyn. As you settled into your old apartment, you made yourself a promise that you’d give it a year. If you and James didn’t find each other after that, then you’d leave Brooklyn and never look back.

Part of you felt foolish as you walked the old familiar streets to James’ old apartment, a final letter clutched in your hand. There was no guarantee he was home, or even if this was his home anymore. Still, it was one of three places you trusted that he would go to if he had returned home.

You walked up to the familiar door, rapping lightly against it as you pushed the letter through the mail slot. You waited for a beat, listening for footsteps. Hearing nothing, you turned around, almost knocking into a man carrying a bag of groceries as you left the building, and headed for Charlie’s Bar.

“Y/N?!” Charlie called out in disbelief. “Is that really you?”

“Hi, Charlie,” you said, taking up your old seat on the stool at the bar. “How have things been?”

“Oh, you know. Same old, same old. Pouring drinks, and watching folks fall in love. I heard you moved out of Brooklyn after Buck and Steve headed to Europe.”

“I did. Just moved back the other day.”

“Forever hopeful, huh?”

“He found me here once. Think he can do it again?”

“Worth a shot.”

Meanwhile, after sidestepping a woman who almost knocked into him, James set a bag of groceries on his counter. Not remembering hearing his door click shut properly, he went back, noticing the white envelope on his floor. Frowning, he picked it up. Then, he stopped breathing as he recognized the looped scrawl of “James” decorating the back of the envelope. With shaking fingers, he tore it open.

Dearest James,

When you think of dancing, I hope you think of my favorite song. Maybe you’ll turn your radio on, and it’ll take you back to that place. I hope it does.

When you think of happiness, I hope you think of that little black dress, and my head on your chest.

Mostly, I hope you still think of me the same way I still think of you.

Am I still your favorite girl?

Y/N

The stamp of your lipstick was placed next to your name. James blinked, having to read it a second time, not believing it the first time. Then, he was cramming the letter in his pocket and running out of the apartment, and across Brooklyn.

First he went to your apartment, knuckles rapping wildly against your door. “Y/N! It’s me! It’s James! C’mon, answer the door!” he called out, chest heaving as he continued to pound on the door.

The door next to yours opened instead, and a woman that wasn’t you looking at him curiously. “Everything alright, sir?”

“The girl who lives here. Have you seen her?”

“She left about forty minutes ago.”

James slammed his fist into your door, swearing under his breath. “C’mon, Y/N, where are you?” he asked himself, begging his mind to give him the answer. The letter! The place! What was the place? Think, think! “Oh, please still be there,” he prayed, before he took off running again.

James was sure his heart was going to jump from his chest as he pushed open the door to Charlie’s Bar, palms resting against his thighs as he doubled over to catch his breath. When he straightened, he was hit with a wave of deja vu, spotting you sitting on your barstool talking with Charlie, your laugh ringing out. With a breathless grin, he walked over. “Excuse me, miss? I was wondering if you’d care for a dance.”

“With whom?” you asked, turning to take James in, a playful smile on your face as tears glistened in your eyes.

“Me?”

“And who’s me?”

“The man who’s always thinking about you because you’re his favorite girl.”

“I’ve missed you, James.”

“I’ve missed you too, doll,” he said, grabbing your hand in his. “Now come dance with me.”

Tag List

@cxddlyash @stanofalotofthings @philthepegacorn @youngblood199456 @binxiboo @creator-appreciator @frontmanash @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @jessalyn-jpeg @lilyoflower @mychemicalimagines @rougese7en @milea

#think of me #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #1940s!bucky #marvel #avengers #calpal irwin

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vergess · 2 years

Note

i'm getting back into his dark materials recently, and it's bumping up against my love of ffxiv, so what do you think the scions (or any other characters you're partial to) would have as their daemons? how about your wol?

Nyeheheee, okay, I haven't considered this extensively but I have considered it.

Obviously, I'm a Thancred Has A Wolf Daemon truther. He has all the common traits. Childhood trauma. Comfort with violence. Extreme loyalty to his perceived family/crew/pack.

Minfilia I think is a pink-headed duck, for two reasons. 1) There's a common myth that a duck quack doesn't echo, but actually, a duck's quack consumes its own echo because of the way the soundwaves oscillate, such that a quack is equal parts call and echo. 2) The pink headed duck was recently declared extinct, much like our girl.

Yda I think has a Small Indian Mongoose that she passes off as an Indian Grey Mongoose when people ask if her daemon has changed due to the trauma of the Calamity. "Oh, no, no, everyone just always thinks he's larger than he actually is, big personality and all that!!" Mongoose are very good fighters, and not to be a Taako Taaco stan on main, but they are also very good at not being poisoned by long term exposure to unbelievable toxicity. Getting to calll him by his proper name and species during Stormblood is a whole Character Arc for her.

Papalymo has a grass snake of unusually large (though not unheard of) size, much too large to wrap around his lalafell sized staff. Because of her extremely large size, she resembles an Aesculapian snake, but she's just a common grass snake.

Y'shtola has an aquatic fairy wasp, which is 1) A wasp, 2) one of the smallest insects int he world, 3) Swims underwater with its little wings 4) Is literally too small to break surface tension and has to climb out of water on grass stems instead, much like a certain someone can never escape the spectre of her first familiar lmao. Also, I just think Y'shtola having a near microscopic daemon is really funny. Like, they definitely used to pretend she was a witch and that her daemon was Out On Errands to torment people when they were younger by having her daemon just hide in her ear or something. The fact that post Shadowbringers she actually is a witch whose daemon has been Separated is actively fucking hilarious in this context.

Urianger has an Indigo Bunting, which is a) super brightly colored and showy in spite of Urianger's best efforts to be a secretive little bitch, b) outstandingly loud, and c) uses stellar navigation during its migrations, as a foreshadowing of his class change from ACN to AST. Also, they're same-sexed. Which is to say, his daemon has the bright ultra-blue feathers of male buntings. However, unlike Urianger, his daemon is probably a they/them type of bitch.

Tataru has a Tunisian Ant. Tunisian ants are pretty famous for being the best mathematicians in the animal world, able to compute complex trigonometry to navigate by counting the steps they took leaving their nest, adjusting their travel angle relative to the sun, and making a direct line back to the nest with their food. More importantly, however, this little bastards have some of the strongest sense of smell in the world. These little fellas can scent a good deal (food) from 17,000x their body size away, and they smell in 3D since they have two olfactory organs (antennae) compared the humanity's paltry single nose.

Krile has a golden parakeet. This is almost entirely because it's as obnoxiously yellow as she is, but it's also a little bit because parakeets along with other parrots are pretty famously intelligent, yet easily startled. The golden parakeet in particular is also almost hyper social, which I think blends well with Krile's adorably youthful faith in social systems.

Estinien has a draco volans, the common flying dragon lizard. This is both because I cannot resist a shitty pun, and because of real actual reasons such as: --the flying lizard has a ludicrous jump distance do to its gliding abilities, travelling 100x its body length; --although they are relatively anti-social and dislike loud environments, they are also perfectly happy to kill kill murder kill, with even the relatively more docile females having a vicious territorialism during mating and hatching seasons; --in spite of this, female dracos are free-travelling and wide ranging; --dracos will spend their whole lives never touching the ground if they can at all avoid it.

G'raha has an obnoxiously sociable little Corgi dog who not only talks to other daemons, but will chipperly chime into conversations between people as well. They wear matching outfits. It's unbearable. They're so saccharine. This is because when they woke up in the Bad Timeline, and Raha had to go to the first, his daemon didn't make it across the void. Unlike the scions, whose daemons fell asleep alongside them, it was presumed that Raha's daemon had dissipated. He had physically moved to the first like the WoL did, yet his daemon was missing. The combination of physical pain from the sudden separation and magical disturbance from bonding with the tower seemed to support this. In actuality, his daemon was doing exactly the same thing: sleeping next to source!G'raha in the Allagan stasis chamber. Being forced to assume your soul is dead and that you've only been kept alive through your own hubris for a couple centuries really does a Trauma on a bitch. After the two Raha's memories blended, Raha's daemon is critical in keeping source!Raha from being completely subsumed by the Exarch's greater age, power, and trauma.

The Twins are almost painfully easy. See. There's these two kinds of monkey. The blue monkey, and the red tailed monkey. Though monkeys are generally territorial bastards who hate not just other family groups of the same species, but other nearby species as well, this pair are pretty well known for travelling and even living in mixed species groups of blue and red. I mean. Aside from the fact that monkey daemons are associated with highly self-actualized and intelligent people, especially those with political goals. They're literally color coded for the twins. I almost feel bad giving them matching ones, but how can I possibly deny this simple fact?

If that's a disappointment, I also considered having an Oxpecker bird for Alisaie, and a horseshoe crab for Alphinaud.

The Oxpecker is a bird quite famous for its mutualistic relationship with large mammals, where it will eat parasites off their hides/wounds, and alert them to the approach of poachers. However, it's no longer considered a mutualist relationship but rather a parasitic one, because when 'grooming' its host mammal, the bird gives exactly 0 fucks about the mammal's safety, and will happily widen and worsen injuries to get to the food. This matches welll with Alisaie's extreme temperament and tendency to consider harm in the name of her goal an acceptable cost, even while she's still a broadly very caring and maternal character.

The horseshoe crab meanwhile is famous for its armored shell and its value as a source of medical components, which is a great choice for a dear sweet boy who gave up being a shield healer so he could be another shield healer.

As for WoLs. My WoL has a dwarf pea puffer, the smallest breed of pufferfish. They are tiny, territorial, and like to investigate things. Also, they can puff which is just very funny to watch even though it's, y'know, a stress reaction and shouldn't be considered cute or desirable. Oh my god but it's very funny though.

Lastly, I firmly believe that the ~Official WoL~ or default WoL or whatever people call him, the guy from the trailers, has a humaniform daemon and also it's Ardbert.

Ardert is the WoL's daemon.

#daemonology #ffxiv #ffxiv spoilers

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