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bradshawsbaby · 2 months

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scenes from the kitchen sink

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Author’s Note: A little moment inspired by that hair washing scene from Water Rises. That movie may have stressed me out, but at least it gave us plenty of domestic Lew content!

Warnings: Domestic fluff and the tiniest of innuendos (if you squint).

Smiling, the hem of your sundress brushing against your calves in the late afternoon breeze, you step out onto the back porch in your bare feet, crossing your arms over your chest and resting your head against the door jamb to better admire him.

He’s stripped down to his boxers—that’s the nice thing about it being just you and him for miles on end—and standing under the steady stream of the garden hose he’s holding above his head, blue eyes shut tightly as he allows the icy gush to wash away the dirt and grime of the day. You worry for half a second when you realize he isn’t wearing his glasses—Did he leave them somewhere?—but your shoulders instantly relax when you catch sight of them in your periphery, the sun glinting off them as they lay resting on the ledge of the window box overflowing with the weeds he hasn’t yet gotten the chance to pull.

It’s silly of you to fret about it, you think with an amused curve of your lips. Bob never goes anywhere without his glasses.

His eyes still closed and his back to you, you continue to gaze upon him, struck not for the first time by just how beautiful he is. Water droplets cling to the broad expanse of his freckled back, winking at you as they catch the sunlight. His muscles ripple with every movement, and your stomach clenches as you recall how they’d felt stretched taut beneath your fingertips that morning.

He looks so right here, so at home standing half naked on the grass outside the little two and a half room cabin the two of you have turned into your own personal love nest these past few days. You know he’s glad that he volunteered to come here, to straighten things up at his grandpa’s old fishing cabin that hasn’t been touched in over five years.

The place has no WiFi, no air conditioning, and no hot water. The floorboards creak something awful, the windows rattle at night, and you’re fairly certain there’s a family of mice taking up residence in the walls. Still, even you have to admit that the place has its charms. Charms that are easier to see since you know you’ll be leaving at the end of the week, once you and Bob finish setting a few things to rights around here.

“Thank you for coming here with me,” he whispers to you every night before you fall asleep.

But there’s no place else you’d rather be. You belong wherever he is.

Even if that means showering with a rusty old garden hose.

Which, considering the veritable deathtrap the shower in the cabin is, it does.

Your chest tightens as you watch Bob wash the day’s hard-earned sweat away, your heart filled nearly to bursting with love for him as he bounces on the balls of his feet, gritting his teeth and bearing it as the cold water trickles down his back and snakes a path along his legs, pooling in the dirt at his feet. As soon as he’s able, he’s running to twist the spigot off, winding the hose up in a neat pile before reaching for his glasses.

When he turns his head and catches sight of you standing at the back door, watching him, his face lights up in a way that sets your pulse racing.

No one’s ever looked at you like that except for Bob Floyd.

“C’mere,” you tell him softly, crooking your finger at him to draw him closer.

“I’m all wet,” he murmurs ruefully, stopping short a foot or so away from you.

“I don’t care,” you grin, holding out your arms, which he gladly steps into. You can feel the warmth emanating from his body even as the chilly water droplets seep through the thin cotton of your sundress.

With him still standing in the grass and you at a slightly elevated position in the doorway, you’re able to look down at his wet locks, glistening in the waning afternoon light. You run your fingers through his hair gently, feeling the way it knots even as you try to smooth it down.

Bob makes a valiant effort to hide his wince, but you spot it all the same.

“I know just the thing you need,” you whisper to him, dropping a kiss on his forehead before reaching for his hand and tugging him inside the cabin.

“Where’re you going?” he asks with a laugh as he stands shivering in the small kitchen, his eyebrows rising above the rims of his glasses as you move hurriedly out of the room.

“To get you a towel!” you call back, already in the bedroom and digging through your bags.

When you return a moment later, however, it’s with more than a towel in hand.

Bob watches with a quizzical expression on his handsome face as you set down your shampoo and conditioner bottles next to the kitchen sink on your way to come wrap a warm towel around his shoulders.

“You want to wash off, too, honey?” he asks sweetly, looking down at you as you towel him off. “I can hold the hose up for you.”

“No,” you reply with a smile, shaking your head and meeting his blue eyes. “Not right now.”

“Then what’s that for?” he questions, gesturing towards the bottles of coconut-scented shampoo and conditioner.

“For me to wash your hair, silly,” you tease, booping his nose before dropping the towel to the floor and reaching for a chair from the rickety kitchen table. Before he can so much as open his mouth to reply, you already have it propped against the sink, the back perfectly level with the edge. Bending down, you scoop up the towel you’d been using before and drape it over the back of the chair.

Bob just stares at you in surprise, rubbing the back of his neck as the tips of his ears turn pink. “Aw, sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your eyes twinkling. “I want to. Now sit,” you command, resting your hands on his bare shoulders and gently pushing him down into the seat.

“But you don’t have to use your shampoo,” he protests as he lowers down into the chair. “Isn’t it expensive? My shampoo should be in my—”

“Robert Floyd, I love you, but that 3-in-1 shampoo you travel with is a crime against humanity,” you laugh, making a face to underscore your point. “Probably explains all these knots,” you add, lightly tugging on his sandy brown hair.

“Fair enough.” he mumbles sheepishly in response.

Giggling softly, you bend down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy, honey. Let me take care of you.”

Before you can reach to turn the faucet on, Bob snags your wrist and uses the momentum to pull you back down to him, his lips skimming yours as a smile stretches across his face.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pecking the corner of your mouth before you can straighten back up. “Thank you.”

Even after all this time, he still manages to throw you off-kilter in the very best of ways. Your cheeks feel warm and your heart is singing when you pull back and reach for the faucet a second time, managing to turn the water on this time.

It’s just as cold as the water from the hose, but your hands are warm and gentle as they tip his head backwards, thoroughly rinsing his hair and running your fingers through it once again.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have the world’s softest hair?” you query, admiring his glistening locks as they catch the light filtering in through the small window above the sink, the one you had spent about an hour scrubbing the day before.

“Hmm,” he hums softly, his eyes closed and his long fingers laced together across his chest as he loses himself in the feel of your delicate hands in his hair. “Well, you certainly have. On more than one occasion,” he teases, cracking one eye open and gazing up at you.

You grin in response, ducking your head to peck his oh-s0-kissable lips. “At least I’m consistent,” you joke in return, nudging his nose with your own before straightening and reaching for your bottle of coconut milk shampoo.

“That you are,” Bob smiles, bunching up the fabric of your sundress as he raises his hands to grab hold of your waist.

“Don’t distract me,” you giggle, shaking the bottle and squeezing a quarter-sized dollop of shampoo into your palm.

He lets out a soft groan as soon as you run both your hands through his hair, the tropical scent of coconuts filling the distinctly midwestern air. “Feels nice,” he confesses, dropping his hands back down to his chest as he stretches his long legs out in front of him and relaxes further into your touch.

“Good,” you murmur softly, a small furrow appearing between your brows as you concentrate on lathering the shampoo through his honey brown locks. You’d once told him, in a loopy state of exhaustion, that the color of his hair reminded you of Teddy Grahams. To this day, he still finds it hilarious and buys you boxes of the little teddy-shaped crackers whenever you go grocery shopping.

Bob sighs softly as you scratch your fingernails against his scalp, his slightly sunburned chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the beat of your heart. You can see, as well as feel, the tension oozing out of his body, the stress from a long several days of labor being washed away with the coconut suds. Your hands still for a moment as you simply gaze down at him, suddenly moved beyond words at the total trust and vulnerability in his posture.

You must pause for longer than you realize because suddenly those cerulean eyes are fixed on your face from behind his wire-frame glasses, a small smile crinkling the corners of his mouth.

“Getting tired?” he asks with a playful nudge, letting his fingers run over the soft cotton of your dress.

Shaking your head, you smile sheepishly, your hands getting back to work. “Just admiring the view,” you admit, feeling your skin grow warm at the way he looks at you in response.

“Me, too,” he says in a low voice, turning his head ever so slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your forearm.

You massage his scalp for a few minutes longer, then reach for the faucet once more to rinse his hair out, gently detangling all the knots as you do so. Good thing you grabbed the conditioner as well.

“Conditioner, too? I’m really getting the royal treatment,” he chuckles when he feels you rubbing it through the ends of his hair. It’s gotten a little longer while he’s been on leave. He’ll have to cut it again soon enough, but you’re enjoying it while you can.

“Only the best for you, Lieutenant,” you grin, rewarded for your comment by the adorable blush spreading across his skin.

Bob’s eyes pop open again and he watches you this time as you carefully tend to him, so focused on taking care of him and making him feel good.

“C’mere,” he whispers, the husky tone in his voice turning your knees to melted butter as he reaches up and tugs on your waist, pulling you down into a kiss while your hands still rest in his hair.

You’re not sure if it’s just something in this fresh country air, but his kiss tastes like sunshine and wildflowers.

You can feel the “I love you” mouthed against your skin, his lips closing around your bottom lip as he bites down softly.

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to pull back, a small laugh bubbling up in your throat when you see his little pout, his mouth still searching for yours.

“Let me finish,” you murmur soothingly, washing the conditioner out of his hair.

You let the frigid water cascade over his head a few minutes longer than necessary, your fingers turning to ice as you continue to card them through his Teddy Graham hair. It's only when you see the goosebumps rising on his shoulders that you finally turn the water off, squeezing the ends of his hair in a gentle fist to release some of the excess droplets.

“All done,” you say, laughing when he sits up and begins shaking his head back and forth, looking suspiciously like his family dog. “Stop, stop!” you scold him good-naturedly, reaching for the towel on the back of the chair.

“My goodness, you are impossible,” you tease, stepping between his legs and draping the towel over his head, scrubbing his hair as he reaches up and links his hands behind your back, trapping you against him.

“And you are beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning forward once you lift the towel and pressing a kiss to the center of your chest, just above the neckline of your dress. If he can feel your heart nearly jump out of your chest, he doesn’t say anything about it.

“There, good as new,” you hum, pleased with your work as you watch the silky soft strands of his freshly washed hair glide through your fingers. “And now you smell like coconuts, too,” you add with a grin.

Bob only smiles in response as he slowly stands up, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you soundly.

He still has his arms around you as he kicks the forgotten towel away and begins walking you backwards out of the kitchen and in the direction of the small bedroom, the one with the rickety full-size bed the two of you have been sharing since your arrival.

“What’re you doing?” you laugh, your bare feet tripping along the creaky floorboards as you let him guide you.

“You took care of me,” he says softly, blue eyes twinkling as he rests his forehead against yours, his hands resting securely on your waist. “Now I’m going to take care of you.”

#robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #x reader #x female reader #top gun #top gun: maverick #lewis pullman

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jakes3resin · 25 days

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Blondes Have More Fun

Anyways, this is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing Crack fic for this fandom, so enjoy Blond!Bucky and his ability to drive Buck and the entirety of the 100th wild with his smile and hair! Also personally I think Callum looks like a 24 year old when blond, so imagine handsome charming, nearly thirty Bucky Egan running around looking like a baby faced newbie then you'll be half a bowled over as the 100th.

It is a truth universally acknowledged at Thorpe Abbotts that Major John "Bucky" Egan can be talked into anything. Anything. So long as you were convincing and Buck wasn't around to drag him away from the dumber ideas, Bucky was down to play ball.

Curt had once talked him into using a British accent for a whole week, even in meetings with the CO. Bucky hadn't even blinked before adopting an uncannily perfect London accent. It was so convincing that some of the newer replacements had asked if the man was British.

Another time, he got into a howl off with Meatball after Hambone said he didn't know which one was worse. The pair were so loud that no one could actually tell who won. Most were too busy covering their ears. The few that weren't couldn't decide. It was officially settled as a draw, but Benny still refuses to accept that Bucky would ever beat his precious boy Meatball in anything.

There were countless tales of Bucky getting into trouble simply because someone had said within his earshot the six words needed to wreck Jack Kidd's night.

"You know what would be fun?"

The magic words. That or a dare would send Bucky careening into trouble with half the 100th behind him to watch the fireworks. Honestly, most of the time, Bucky was already getting up to his own antics, so convincing him to do something else wasn't exactly hard.

It was one such utterance of the phrase that sparked a wildfire within the 100th Bomber Group that threatened to tear them asunder and send one Major Gale "Buck" Cleven to an early grave. Or prison.

The night was like any other Friday night. Bucky had gone out with Curt and Bubbles. Buck had chosen to stay in for the night reading, and Harry had done much the same. Kidd, the minder of the entire 100th, had gone to the officer's club while the trio had gone to a local pub in the town just off base. So the usual minders of this trio of mad men were missing, and as the saying goes, while the cats are away, the mice will play.

It started as Bubbles's idea.

At least that's what they think it started as. A few too many drinks had left the evening a blur for Curt and Bubbles and a blank for Bucky. That last fact will be important later.

"You know what would be fun?" Bubbles said, or perhaps it was Curt. Or maybe it was Bucky. But it was probably Bubbles. The man was quite the troublemaker, he just hid it better behind soft smiles and manners.

"What?" Bucky leaned against the bar to grin at Bubbles. Well perhaps a more accurate word would be slumped, he'd spent half the night playing some weird darts game that required shots for every bull's eye Tommy made. It was safe to say that the man was on the downhill slide to wasted. Curt kept an ear on the pair as he flirted with a pretty blonde next to them at the bar.

"Being blonde." Bubbles sighed. "All the movies make it seem fun, don't they? And Major Cleven sure is pretty with his blond hair. I bet it'd look really pretty as well on your curls Bucky."

"Sorry, sweetheart, one moment," Curt turned his head to stare at Bubbles. "You think Buck's pretty?"

"And you don't?"

"I do!"

"We know you do, Bucky," Curt sighed and leaned further onto the bar to make eye contact with Bubbles. "I mean, sure, objectively, you could say he is, but I thought you were wrapped up with Croz and Jean?"

"I am, but I still got eyes don't I? 'Sides ain't there something fun about being blonde?" Bubbles leaned against his cupped hand on the bar. "Can't a mind wonder?"

"Yeah Curt," Bucky rose in defense of his friend slinging an arm around Bubble's neck. The move was so uncoordinated that the pair were nearly sent to the floor. "Why can't Bubbles wonder? I wanna go blond, too!"

Curt rolled his eyes at them, but an idea was taking root in his head. An amazing idea.

"Well," Curt grinned. "Why wonder when you can do?"

"You boys aren't thinking about bleaching your friend's hair on your own are you?" A voice cut through the trio's conversation. It seemed the blonde woman from before had been listening in and was rightly amused by the drunk airmen's conversation.

"Cause you'll fry his whole head off in the state you're in, and the world would mourn those curls." She lifted a hand to tug gently on one of Bucky's loose wavy curls. He smiled at her, loose and happy. Usually, only Buck plays with his hair, but Bucky doesn't mind when anyone else does. Buck does though, which Bucky still hasn't figured out.

"Well, how do you suppose we save his curls then," Curt paused searching for the woman's name, "Nora."

"Good job, I half thought you were too drunk to remember my name handsome." Curt smiled, and Nora kept talking

"There's a drugstore down the way. Stocks up on anything a girl, or flyboy in need, could ever need. I'll help you boys out." Nora laughed. "You'll look mighty pretty dyeing those curls blond Major. I wanna see 'em first."

With Nora leading the way, the trio tripped over themselves into chaos. Bucky laughed as Bubbles rambled on about how pretty he'll look as a blond. Curt butting in to say that he'll need to either shave his mustache or bleach it too.

On base, Buck felt a shiver run down his spine as he laid down to sleep. Writing it off as just a chill from the cold British air, the man fell asleep.

Bucky groaned as he woke up. Voices drifted around him. His head felt like it'd be screwed off and used as a bowling ball all night, and as desperately as he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew that now that the sun was up, he was up.

"Curt, if that's you snoring on my legs, I'm gonna kick you off." Bucky pulled his pillow further over his head, trying to block out said snores.

"Fuck off," Came the grumbled reply. An elbow dug into the back of his knee.

"Get off," John whined. Curt huffed shifting just enough to let Bucky free his legs. "Why didn't you go to your own bed?"

"Yours is comfier." Bubbles murmured next to the pair, and Bucky really was starting to wonder what the hell they all drank the night before.

"It's the same cot as everybody else." Bucky grumbled, finally sitting up. Bubbles and Curt immediately swooped onto the space he abandoned. "Rude. You just want me for my bed."

"But it's such a lovely bed, sweetheart," Curt buried his face in Bucky's pillow, not even glancing at the man he was stealing from. Bubbles seemed to have immediately fallen back to sleep.

"I'm getting breakfast," Bucky yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Meet me there when you idiots wake up. I'll sneak you in."

"Sir, yes, sir." Curt's hand flopped into a mock salute that had Bucky rolling his eyes.

First things first, breakfast. Or at least coffee for his hangover.

Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Bucky didn't even waste time checking how he looked in a mirror. He went to smooth down his mustache only to curse when he found it missing. Thinking Curt must have shaved it off as a joke, Bucky groaned but moved on. He didn't even touch his hair after that, just walked right out of his barracks. The only thing that mattered to him was coffee and how he'd get his hands on a gallon of it. It wouldn't be the first time he ran around base with his hair going every which way. No one would bat an eye.

Had he known what kind of chaos he was about to wreck upon the poor, unsuspecting airmen of Thorpes Abbotts, Bucky would have at least styled it a bit. You know, just to ensure maximum chaos.

The bike ride to the mess wasn't awful. The fresh air helped at least. With his sunglasses on, his head felt less like it was going to split open and more human. What was weird was how everyone stopped in their tracks to watch him ride past.

"Is that-?"

"No way!"

"Someone get Kidd!"

"Holy shit!"

"Major Cleven is going to lose his mind!"

"Do you think he has a twin?"

"Hell if I know, I can't believe Major Cleven let him out of the barracks like that."

"Lord help us if there's another Egan running around."

Bucky ignored them. He was way too hungover to parse through what nonsense the boys were going on about, and he simply pedaled faster to get to the officer's mess. He just wanted his coffee.

"Major Egan, sir!"

Bucky glances up from securing his bike and meets the eye of one of the newer boys. Kid barely looks old enough to have enlisted.

"Uh," Bucky searches his memory for this kid's name. Bucky tried to know some of the newbies names, but it was harder than he'd ever admit. "Monroe, right?

"Yes, sir!" The kid squeaked, a bright tomato blush spreading across his cheeks. Bucky winced, the sound drilling right into his brain. "I wanted to say you look nice today, sir. Your, your hair is real nice!"

"Thanks, Monroe," Bucky smiled, thrown by how Monroe managed to grow even redder. He reaches out to clasp the kid on the shoulder. "You alright there? You look like you're gonna faint. Had any breakfast yet?"

"I-I'm fine, sir, thank you!" Monroe was stock still under Bucky's hand, but he wrote it off as nerves. Some of the boys got nervous around the older pilots, especially if they were officers. "I'll be going now! Have a good day, sir!"

In a flash, the blushing replacement ducked under Bucky's arm and ran as fast as he could down the lane. Bucky watched him go, head tilted not sure what the hell just happened to him. He heard a few shrieks behind him but wrote it off as typical background noise. There was always something going on.

"Weird kid." Bucky turned to walk into the officer's mess. He'd have to tell Buck about it when he saw him next. Maybe he'd understand what just happened.

Speaking of, Buck had better have saved him a seat for breakfast. Bucky was not going to battle the morning rush as well as his hangover just to find out he had nowhere to sit.

On the way inside, Bucky ran into Veal. As in, he literally ran into the man because he'd stopped dead in his tracks staring at him. Bucky hadn't even seen the other before he practically bowled him over.

"Veal, what the hell?" Bucky groaned.

"You," Veal stared at him wide-eyed. If Bucky were less hungover, he'd get quite a kick out of this. "You, you?"

"Shaved, I know," Bucky gestured to his face. He turned to keep walking into the officer's mess. "Yeah, Curt had some fun last night."

"Wait, no! Bucky-!" Veal went to grab him, but Bucky just swerved out of the way. Nothing was getting in his way in his quest for coffee. "Bucky! Stop! Don't go in there!"

"Yeah, yeah, Veal," Bucky waved a hand behind him. "I get you're shocked, but come on, man. It's not the first time any of you've seen me without it!"

Bucky rushed in, not paying anymore attention to Veal. He walked with one purpose. Coffee. He didn't care if the other officers stopped and stared at him slackjawed as he walked past. He was a man on a mission.

"Hey, coffee, please? Whole pot if you could," Bucky smiled at the attendant, who blushed scarlet before running off. Thrown but not deterred, Bucky just shrugged and turned to find Buck. Maybe he'd be able to steal Buck's coffee.

He found Buck seated near one of the windows with his back facing Bucky. Jack was at his table, but otherwise, it was empty. Bucky started over.

Jack saw him first and choked on his grapefruit juice.

"Oh shit," Jack choked out. Buck leaned over to check on him.

"Alright, Jack?" Bucky grabbed the seat next to Buck. Jack just stared at him, eyes wide. Bucky tilts his head confused. "Buck, what's with him?"

Buck turns and freezes. Bucky stares at him. Buck stares back.

"Buck?" Bucky reaches out to shake him.

"You," Buck starts but doesn't finish. His wide blues eyes stare at Bucky's face.

"Coffee, sir!"

The attendant from before arrives with Bucky's requested pot of coffee and a cup.

"Thanks!" Bucky smiles up at the other. The attendant trips backward. Buck turns and glares at the other man. He flees.

"Buck, what the hell?" Bucky nudges Buck. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

Buck turns to stare at Bucky again, a clench to his jaw that Bucky's knows means he's holding something back. Jack seems to have started breathing normally again.

"Your hair!" Jack says. Bucky reaches up to touch his hair. Sure, he didn't style it this morning, but was it so bad? Monroe said it looked good!

Speaking of, why was everyone focusing on his hair today?

"What about it?" Bucky's genuinely curious now. Buck's still staring at him, eyes bright, and now Jack seems to be wishing for death.

"Its-!"

"Pretty."

Bucky turns to Buck. It's his turn to stare wide-eyed at the other. A blush rises up to his cheeks. Buck's not one to mince his words, and a compliment from him feels akin to a hundred.

The entire mess hall goes quiet as Buck stares at him. Bucky smiles at him. Buck goes rigid, and Jack chokes on his juice next to them. Again.

"Bucky!" Curt slammed his hand against the window, happy as a clam and utterly sober. Bucky hates that Irish constitution of his. "Let us in!"

Bucky stands up to hoist open the window. Jack's still too busy choking on his juice to stop him, and Buck seems to have frozen solid. Bubbles and Curt fall through seconds later. The pair immediately start talking over each other happily, and Bucky is starting to wonder if he was the only one who woke up with a hangover.

"God, you should hear the scuttlebutt going round!" Curt cackles as he launches himself into the seat across from Bucky. Bubbles nods next to him, already munching on a piece of toast Bucky thinks used to be Jack's.

"Anything fun?" Bucky dumps creamer into his coffee. He moans as he takes a sip of it. God, coffee really was the best hangover cure. Bucky doesn't notice how quiet the mess hall got until Bubbles finally answers his question a minute later. Odd.

"Just how pretty your hair looks now Major," Bubbles smiled at him. Bucky reached for his hair again.

"Is it really so different?" He asks. Buck makes a noise next to him like a dying chicken, and Curt cackles.

"Blond really is your color, Bucky! You look like one of those pin up posters running around like that!" Curt reaches across the table to tug on one of his curls, drawing it down into his eyesite. Buck bangs his knee against the table with a swear. Bucky would fuss over him, but he's reevaluating his whole morning with this new information.

"Oh!" Bucky gasps. Now he feels silly. "That's why Monroe complimented me outside?"

"Pardon?" Buck's voice comes out strangled. Bucky swings his gaze back to him. Buck's blue eyes are nearly electric, and Bucky gulps.

"Monroe? Cute kid? Brunette replacement with a billion freckles that disappear when he blushes?" Bucky rambles. Curt cackles again as Jack buries his face into his hands. Bubbles grabs a slice of Buck's toast this time.

"And he stopped you?" Buck's jaw was doing the thing Bucky knows only happens when he's pissed. But why would he be mad? Bucky tilts his head to stare at Buck, curls flopping down into his eyes now that Curt's untucked them from behind his ears.

Buck clenches his fist.

"Yeah, he and Veal both stopped me before I walked in." Bucky reaches over to grab Buck's hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine John," Buck reaches up to tuck his loose curls back behind his ear. His hand lingers, and Bucky fights the urge to press his cheek into Buck's hand. "You look real pretty."

"Yeah?" Bucky sits up straighter, leaning into Buck's space. "How pretty?"

"Like a daydream." Buck whispers, voice low. His blue eyes won't stop staring, and Bucky can tell his blush is spreading by the volume of Curt's laugh.

Oh, Bucky could just kiss the other.

"Yeah, Nora did a nice job on your hair!" Bubbles pipes up having polished off Buck's toast. "We should write her a thank you card!"

"Nora?" Buck twitches.

"The girl who dyed Bucky's hair, of course!" Curt chimed in reaching for Bucky's coffee. Bucky batted his hands away, holding desperately onto his cup. "Pretty girl too! Kept running her hands through Bucky's hair saying how nice it was."

"I think nows a good time to stop that." Jack shoved his last slice of toast in Curt's mouth.

Buck's hand was still hovering over Bucky's cheek.

"Oh, now I remember!" Bucky leaned towards Curt and Bubbles with a bright smile. "She kissed me on the cheek before we left, right?"

Buck pushed his chair away from the table with a screech. Jack turned back to his grapefruit juice with a sigh.

Buck stormed out of the building, and it was through the combined efforts of Curt and Bubbles that Bucky didn't run after him. They could hear yelling through the still open window.

"Oh shit!"

"Everybody run! Major Cleven's pissed!"

"Who flirted with Bucky this time?!"

"Buck calm down, whoever it was they probably didn't mean anything by it!"

"Outta my way Crank."

"Buck, c'mon if you go to jail, who'll stay by Bucky's side?"

"Only gotta go to prison if I get caught."

"That's right-wait, Buck, no!"

Bucky sipped at his coffee. Jack sighed and turned to Bucky.

"Would you please go stop him? I'm not explaining to Harding why one of the 100th murdered a civilian, a fellow Major, and a replacement."

"Buck wouldn't do that," Bucky rolled his eyes.

Jack stared at him, judgement clear in his eyes. Bucky shifted under his gaze.

"Fine," Bucky groaned and pushed away from the table. He refilled his cup of coffee. "He wouldn't, but I'll go stop him."

Curt and Bubbles chirped their goodbyes as they waved down an attendant. Bucky mourned his pot of coffee as he glanced back and saw Curt gleefully pouring it into a cup.

Stepping put in the sunshine, Bucky reached for his sunglasses. Finding Buck would be easy. He simply turned in the direction of the yelling and started walking.

He ignored the boys all watching him and whispering. Now that he was walking, he could see his reflection in the windows of the buildings he passed. His normally brown locks were now a bright blond. He felt a bit foolish for not seeing it earlier, but hangovers tended to narrow one's field of vision to only what's necessary.

"DeMarcooo!" Bucky called out when he saw the other walking Meatball. "You seen Buck anywhere?"

"Just missed him," Benny yelled back. He pointed to the left of the barracks. "Went that way!"

"Thanks!" Bucky called back with a smile. A few of the boys around him erupted in whispers.

"Nice hair!" Benny yelled with a grin. Bucky rolled his eyes and kept walking. Buck couldn't have gone too far, right?

He found Buck only a few minutes later outside of one of the barracks the replacements were quartered. He was leaning against a wall talking to someone.

"Buck!" Bucky jogged over. As he got closer, he realized that the person Buck was talking to was the kid from earlier. "Monroe! Good to see you again so soon!"

"Major!" Monroe squeaked, eyes bouncing from Buck to Bucky. "Major Cleven was just reminding me about a few chores that I forgot about! I'll get going! Sirs!"

The kid ran off before Bucky could stop him. Buck watched with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, and Bucky huffed out a laugh.

"You know, you don't have to act all jealous to get my attention," Bucky pulled Buck to him by wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'll still only ever look at you."

"Just making sure everyone else knows that." Buck replied, voice low and serious.

Bucky reached up his free hand to drag him down into a kiss. Buck melted into his touch. Bucky laughed into he kiss as he tried to keep his coffee from spilling all over the two of them. He pecks the corner of Buck's mouth and pulls away.

"So you like the hair?" Bucky scrunches his nose into a shit eating grin.

Buck wiped that grin off his face with another kiss. Not that Bucky was complaining, of course.

Later that night, after making sure Buck didn't actually murder anyone, Bucky found himself in front of a vaguely familiar drug store.

"Well Major, I take it your boy liked the blond?" Nora grinned, pink lips spread into a devilish smile. She leaned one hip against the drug store counter. "Surprised you made it back here. You boys weren't exactly stone cold sober when you left."

"I always remember my bets, darling. I'll forget a lot but never those." Bucky laughed and set his hat down on the counter next to her. A single blond curl fell down into his eyes. "Now, what's this about makeup?"

"Oh, Major, you'll look lovely in something peachy."

#please ignore the fact that a small country town in England during ww2 had the necessary products for this during rationing #nora is an oc that exists solely because i have heard horror stories about people not knowing how to use hair bleach #and knew these three fools would burn Bucky's hair off if left unattended so thus NORA #everyone falls in love with Bucky #and blond Bucky is a bombshell no one survives #curt is only surviving because he thrives off of the chaos #internally he is also screaming about how pretty bucky is caude im a curtbucky stan as well #mota #masters of the air #buck x bucky #clegan #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #bucky egan #john egan #gale cleven #buckbucky #my writing

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roseblancheenfleurs · 2 months

Text

Untold Story Of Magic ✨

Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Nsfw Content, Slight Degradation, later aged characters, fanfiction, toxic, rivals to lovers to enemies to spouses 😌,Muggle insult, cursing by underage etc.

"Stop it sneaky snake" You frustratingly call out the black haired boy who has snatched away your notebook. Now reading all your doodles on the back side with a sly smirk as he has a bunch of secrets in his hands.

He didn't seemed to respond to your insult.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle" You called out the future dark lord , your rival.

You are Y/n S/n , a student at the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. You are muggle quite a special afterall the sorting hat asked you to choose your own House from Slytherin and Gryffindor because you were both truthful and loyal with high ambitions with necessary scheming.

Wanting to preserve the name of your very past ancestor Godric Gryffindor, you choose the house of the lion throwing major insult to the half blood and pure blood of the Slytherin (as if there were so willing to accept a muggle 🙂).

This made you a respected figure in the Gryffindor house and also earned you a major rival Tom Marvolo Riddle, the direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the future dark lord.

Both of you have been for every single thing . From the last cup of butter beer to the first position at the end of the session.

Like two poles of earth have the climate in common similarly you two also had a habit of sneaking into the library. But unaware of each other until the Sunday night 6 months ago.

"Is the coast clear, Puchi?" You whispered to your pet cat who has the major responsibility of accompanying you everywhere even washroom.

"Meow", the furry creature run through the corridor to the library door.

And you followed with dangling lantern flickering in your hand.

Even though having special permission from Headmaster Dippet, you were advised to go their secretly for the other students to not to break the curfew protocol.

You reached the door where you cat waited for you to open the door and she would feast on some mices.

You twisted the knob and was about to open the door a hand stopped doing so by helding your hand. Like brave lion you didn't screamed instead gripped your wand to obliviate the sudden intruder. You turned back only to feel someone's lips on yours.

It's Tom standing behind and you kissed him.

"WTF" you both cursed rubbing your lips harshly.

Congrats you have kissed you rival.

Also your blood enemy. 🤣

And from that possibly the doom started (For you specially). Having very conservative thoughts Tom was persistent about marrying you as you took his first kiss.

"But we are freaking kids 🙂" You were so done and had enough of this rascal pestering you having a good talk to boys around you, stalking you, stealing your quils and handkerchief (literally you mother is scolding you why you needed 50 handkerchiefs in less than a month).

Born from the affects of amortenia, The way of confessing is a bit different from others. Teasing, ruining your drawings, sneaking wrong ingredient in the potion and many more if someone else was in your place they would have been leave Hogwarts days ago because of the extreme level of torturing.

To his teasing you gave savage answers, restored you hard work by magic spells, adding the neutralizing ingredient to the potion to save progress.

It went well, you loved this challenges.

Until one day you found Tom bullying your childhood male best friend and you slapped him across the face which echoed through the whole hall. Everyone will fear stared at Tom who grabbed your wrist thinking he would twist it painfully only to see him placing a kiss on the back. Rubbing it on his wounded cheek.

"You hands are so soft just as I imagined" he said like a professional creep.

"It's enough I wanna go home" That's your only thought. You later confronted him in the library .

"What do you want, Riddle?"

"You"

SMACK!

You smacked him across the face.

"Date me"

If it saved your friend from his hand that's what you did .

Breaking News!

The world is on the verge of End Tom and Y/n are dating.

It was printed on the monthly magazine of Hogwarts containing important updates.

Even professors were shocked seeing Tom apologizing to your friend in the hall full of students.

At first you were cold to him but due to gentleman gestures it didn't take long for you to fall for him.

He was already madly in love with you.

Every secret... his world domination plan, The story of his heartless birth father and incompetent mother everything he told you. You didn't supported the plan of his word domination but he was persistent that he would dominate the world and you would be his lady, The lady of the great dark lord. He reasoned that in that position you could get everything you wish for but all in vain.

"Damn it why would you take to support our love?" He yelled.

That day you were already in a bad mood, Extra classes, extra homework didn't got enough sleep last night accompanied by the depressing period hormones.

"Let's break up" and you walked away that was the last time you saw Tom.

It's like he never existed, you graduated from Hogwarts with flying colours.

From a muggle to a powerful and prestigious witch .

You had a great contribution to the magic world numerous effective and easy spells.

New books, new wand cores, there wasn't a single field left.

Sucess fame and fortune you earned it all.

But it was too tiring.

You moved to a deep forest away from human civilization with your parents and cat.

Deep inside the jungle you constructed a luxurious castle to lavishly spend the rest of your days.

Chirp!

Chirp! Chirp!

Two sparrows are playing on the balcony railing.

Wind blows fluttering the curtains revealing a figure sitting on the whitewood table designing a new magical device.

It's You, The powerful muggle witch currently 53 years old.

Hoooo! A messenger owl comes to deliver you the latest daily prophet .

You leave the rest of your work taking a short break keeping yourself updated for the new world.

The first two headlines that caught your eyes

Lily And James Potter Found Dead!

Sirius Black,The Traitor.

#voldemort #lord voldemort #voldemort x reader #gryffindor reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #immortality #magic #harry potter #tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #yandere #tom riddle x reader #yandere tom riddle

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winter-leftovers · 3 months

Text

Til The End Of Eternity || Chapter twenty two: For The Glory Of Merlin (22/?)

(Douxie Casperan x f!reader)

Summary: Y/n is trying to figure her life out but is going to be hard since her brother is the new trollhunter and she is plagued by dreams and feelings she doesn’t understand.

Chapter Summary: The trollhunter team enters Merlin’s tomb. Y/n can’t keep her secret anymore.

Word count: 2883

Warnings: canon death/suicide, a drip of angst?

(Season 3 Episodes 7, 8)

Song?: American Teenager by Ethel Cain

Previous - Next

Masterlist

The trollhunter team entered Merlin’s tomb ready to face whatever was inside waiting for them. Y/n was ready to let them face the tests on their own. She trusted her friends, she trusted her father if this was meant to be then they didn’t need her.

She felt like a scientist observing her little mice, getting excited when Toby accidentally stepped on the right tile but frustrated when he didn’t realize what the bag was for. Luckily, Claire quickly sprung into action solving the puzzle in record time. Putting the bag on the tile, taking the room back in time, planting the seed next to the wall they needed to climb, going back and taking the room back to the present with a gigantic plant that they could climb to get to the other side, all in less than five minutes.

Y/n had to bite her cheek to stop a laugh from erupting from her chest. She imagined her father seeing this, seeing Claire demolish his ‘oh so clever trap’ in record time.

“Claire, you’re a genius”

“Good work, Claire”

The team praised as they climbed the root to the other room.

The second room was dark. Here there was no light shining through the outside.

“Ugh” Toby grunted. He had tripped on a rock “Wish we had a light”

“Oh, wait” Claire opened her backpack and pulled out a flashlight “I hate it when my parents are right” she moved the flashlight trying to get a sense of the room.

Claire’s light hit the wall, they returned a green light. The girl frowned, pointing her flashlight directly to the wall not moving it this time.

“Whoa” Toby gasped.

The walls illuminated revealing drawings along them.

Toby ran to observe the drawings from up close.

“Great Gorgus!” Exclaimed Blinky “This appears to be a depiction of history. A timeline”

“The staff of avalon” Jim pointed out.

Y/n got closer to the wall to observe the drawings. She saw Morgana standing proudly next to Merlin, it was back when she was his student, back when hope was still enough. She saw her father standing tall, serious, a little more hair than he had the last time she saw him and then, down to the left, she saw herself with her staff, she was still a child. It was an anomaly that a child had won their staff but she’s her father’s daughter.

She caressed the indentation in the wall, her posture may indicate determination but she was still a child with sad eyes. Y/n smiled, her sadness indicated one thing, that Douxie wasn’t living in the castle yet. Her determination was a facade for the kingdom to see. She wishes she could go back in time to say to herself ‘Hang on! A raven haired boy and his cat are going to come by and save you!’

Y/n’s reflection is cut short by Aaarrrgghh’s roar. She turns around and sees Angor Rot attack the troll with his dagger.

“Run for your life!” Blinky screamed at the trio.

The kids ran as fast as they could but Angor was mad, focused on killing them. He was able to catch up with them by climbing the wall. He jumped and grabbed Jim’s arms, both of them falling to the ground.

“Trollhunter!” Angor Rot squeezed his dagger.

Jim screamed when he saw the troll face from up close.

Aaarrrgghh hit the wall creating an avalanche of stones, giving Jim the possibility to escape from Angor Rot grasp and the trollhunter team to escape from the room.

“Ha! Oh!” Toby laughed before he tripped on something hard.

They turned around and Claire illuminated the floor. Draal’s arm was squeezed into a gate on the floor.

“Draal” Jim took the arm out activating the sharp blades of the trap.

“Is a dead end” Claire said as the blades spun threatening to tear them apart.

Angor Rot screamed as he escaped his tomb of stones, dagger in hand.

“Plan! Plan! Plan? Anyone? We need a plan!” Toby screamed, stretching his arms, trying to protect his friends behind him.

“Draal’s arm. Gunmar must’ve used it to halt the blades” said Blinky.

“Here goes something!” Jim pushed the bronze hand against the blades stopping the mechanism.

Angor Rot growled and charged like a mad bull.

“Go, go, go” Jim was the last to jump, taking Draal’s hand with him.

“I’ll kill you” the troll screamed.

“Jim!!” Toby screamed as he lost his balance on the white quartz he was standing on.

“Wingman!!” Aaarrrgghh ran behind him, jumping to the void and grabbing the quartz as he was able to catch Toby by his pants “Gotcha!”

“Toby!!” Y/n ran to the border and saw the troll balancing himself with one hand while with the other he was holding Toby as they hanged over nothingness.

“I never thought I’d enjoy a wedgie so much” Toby laughed.

Y/n chuckled in relief, walking back giving Aaarrrgghh and Toby space to climb back.

Outside of the cave, in the event of danger, she had her magic, she could always step up if the situation needed it but here, in the cave where no magic was allowed, the only thing she had was a dagger that was useless in this situation.

“Oh, Nana was right. Gonna need those extra undies” Toby panted, fixing his pants.

“Toby” Claire screamed as she threw herself in her arms.

Jim put his free hand on his shoulder with a smile.

Y/n ruffled his hair.

“By Deya’s grace. It appears we’re in the innermost sanctum. The heart of Merlin’s tomb” Blinky admired the infinity cave illuminated by white crystals.

“If this is the heart, I bet Merlin’s staff is somewhere close” said Jim.

Angor Rot’s screams and struggle to get through could still be heard in the distance.

“Draal can’t be far. Look for the staff, I’ll get him back” Jim continued.

“I’ll go with you” Y/n looked at Jim.

“Y/n, no”

“Listen, there’s not much time and you can’t really win me in stubbornness”

Toby nodded

“So I’m going with you. You have no excuse this time. No armor, no sword, no amulet”

Jim took a moment to observe her sister and frowned “Fine” Jim nodded.

“There’s only one way to go” said Blinky

“Down!” Completed Aaarrrgghh

The siblings started to climb down the never ending stairs of crystals in silence. Y/n walked a little behind Jim.

‘He has grown so much’ she thought as she observed the way he walked. The determination in his face, his baby face that couldn’t grow a beard yet ‘Young. Much too young’

She wondered what was with the world and the chosen ones. Why must they be that young? Was it absolutely necessary for the plan? Was the sacrifice of the youth an element so necessary that we must use it again, again and again?

She had lived almost nineteen years next to her father and had never come close to understanding the why of the youngness of the victors, of the saints, of the greats, of the trollhunter in this case. Nine thousand nineteen years walking this earth and still she can’t find an answer as to why a sixteen year old. Why her sixteen year old brother?

Guilt brews in her stomach. If she was able to face Morgana without folding to the memory of what once was maybe this wouldn’t be happening.

“Nothing yet over here” Jim screamed to his friends “This place feels like it goes on forever” he said lower.

“I know, right?” Y/n said, trying to swallow the guilt.

Jim kept walking, gaining distance from his sister. A big growl made Y/n run behind him.

“Guys, I found Draal!” Jim's scream resonated through the cave.

“Hurry! We should regroup” screamed back Blinky.

“Are you okay?!” Y/n screamed when she saw her brother laying down on the ground.

Draal sighed. He was already resigned to the uncomfortable position he was in, multiple crystals holding him in place.

“I’m alright!” Jim stood up and went to help Draal, Y/n right behind him.

“I made an oath to protect you. I have broken that oath. I remember attacking you. I have lost my honor, failed you all!” Draal said, clenching his fist.

“No. It’s not your fault. Gunmar forced you to do things you would never have done yourself. You were under his control” Jim helped the troll put his metal arm and looked him into the eyes “You’re not just my protector, Draal. You’re my friend” Jim hugged Draal, surprising the troll but he quickly reciprocated it.

Y/n looked up trying to give them some privacy.

“Where is it?” Gunmar's angry screams echoed through the cave.

“Gunmar” Y/n looked at Jim.

“We gotta beat him to the staff” Jim turned to Draal “Come on, Draal”

“By my father’s name, he will taste vengeance!” The troll chuckled.

The three of them started to climb down the crystals.

“I see it!” Claimed Jim.

Y/n looked down and saw the green glimmer of the staff of Avalon. The staff was embedded in a crystal cut in half. She took a deep breath. They were halfway through their trip.

“Gunmar’s almost got the staff” Jim said as he slid down to a place Y/n couldn’t follow.

“You get to the staff! I’ll take care of Gunmar” Draal turned his back, inviting Jim to climb in “Hang on, Trollhunter!” He screamed as he jumped to the crystal holding the staff.

“No” Y/n whispered, extending her hands as if she could stop them. She hanged there as she saw Draal pushing Gunmar out of the way so Jim could grab the staff of Avalon. She let go of the worry she had stuck in her lungs in the form of a chuckle when she saw Jim wielding the staff.

“Trollhunter” Angor Rot fell from the sky falling onto the crystal Jim was standing, the strength of the fall breaking it.

“Jim” Y/n screamed.

The trollhunter fell backwards with the crystal clinging to it only with one hand.

“Give me the staff, Trollhunter!” Gunmar jumped to the sinking crystal and tried to take the staff from him.

Jim jumped to the side but the movements of the crystal made him fall.

“Gatcha” Drall caught him by the feet and threw him back into action.

Y/n dug her nails into the crystal, she felt every piece dug into her skin but she couldn’t feel the pain. She couldn’t intervene. She couldn’t help. She felt the tears burning her face as she saw Gunmar clawing Draal’s chest, as she heard her brother plead for the life of his friend.

“We are too late. Gunmar has the staff!” Blinky gasps.

Y/n shakes her head, trying to concentrate back in the present. She let go of the crystal she was holding and jumped to the one her friends were in observing Gunmar stealing the staff.

The group gasped. Angor Rot jumped, magic dagger in hand, ready to stab Jim but Draal stood in the way, getting stabbed instead. Draal quickly grabbed Angor Rot in a chokehold, if he was going down he was going to take the evil that killed him with him.

“You would give your life for a human? Why?” Angor tried to escape Draal’s grip but it was impossible.

“Because he’s my friend!” Draal walked backwards and looked at Jim one last time “It has been my honor, fleshbag” he said before jumping.

“Draal” Jim screamed, running toward the edge where his friend had jumped. Blinky and Toby followed him and dragged him out of the collapsing crystal

“Draal” Jim kept calling.

Y/n held Jim into her arms and whispered into his brother’s hair “He’s gone, Jim, I’m sorry”

“And without the magic of the staff, the cave is collapsing” Blinky warned.

They looked up and saw Aaarrrgghh stopping a crystal big enough to smash all of them.

“Go” screamed the troll as he toasted the crystal into the abyss.

The team ran following the light of an exit that was crushed by a rock big enough that not even Aaarrrgghh could lift.

“Too big” Aaarrrgghh said as he pushed the boulder.

“It’s okay, wingman. You tried” consoled Toby.

“It’s hardly okay” Blinky pushed past Toby. Y/n doesn’t remember seeing him leave “We’re on the distinctly wrong side of the cavern’s collapse. Merlin’s tomb will now apparently become our own” he screamed as he pushed the rock.

The cavern’s growls became more intense, suddenly the crystal started to fall more strongly and frequently. The team ran to Aaarrrgghh looking for refuge.

Y/n closed her eyes trying not to laugh at the irony of dying at the hands of the contraption she builded. As if the world was answering her, the falling of rubble stopped.

“Or we could go that way. There’s an opening” Claire pointed out.

“Thus affording us the opportunity to be trapped somewhere else” complained Blinky.

“Or it’s a way out, huh?” Said Toby “You just gotta think positive”

“I’m not entirely sure I know how” explained Blinky as they started to walk the new path.

“We can tell” said Y/n.

The team kept walking, hiking the falling crystals.

“We need to find a way to go up” said Jim.

“Hmm. Right. Yeah, look for some stairs or better yet, an elevator” Toby laughed

Y/n laughed. She was glad for Toby’s humor right now because she had no idea where they were.

“That way!” Indicated Aaarrrgghh.

Everyone followed and Y/n wished she could live in a moment ago, when she was ignorant of where they were.

“Great Globus, it’s him” announced Blinky.

“Is it really?” Asked Claire

“Must be” said Aaarrrgghh

“Merlin” Jim named him and the stone from the amulet that he kept in his pocket started to shine. He took it out and walked towards the sleeping wizard.

Y/n started to walk backwards, trying to blend with the walls. A part of her wanted to run to her father’s arms, the other just wanted to disappear.

Two small lights jumped from the stone to Merlin’s eyes. Jim got closer, illuminating the wizard with the stone trying to observe him closer. Merlin’s eyes opened wide and took a deep breath, swallowing the spiderwebs. Jim screamed in terror.

Y/n put a hand in his mouth, trying to keep the laughter from coming out.

Jim stood up and observed in awe at the one dead wizard now having a coughing fit.

Merlin, now calm down, lay back down and looked to the side

“Are you the trollhunter?”

“Uh, uh” Jim couldn’t speak.

“I thought you’d be taller” Melin said.

Y/n started to bite her hand so she wouldn’t laugh.

“Yes, I expected much taller. And older” Merlin dusted his armor of “How old are you? Ten?

“Uh, sixteen?” Jim smiled.

“I guess I was only off by, mmm…” Merlin lay back down and started to do the math in his head “Six plus four, carry the one…fourteen years”

Y/n’s laughter died in her throat, her hands fell to her side ‘He wasn’t expecting a child?’

“Holy Merlin. It’s really you!” Toby screamed.

“Just what kind of troll are you?” Merlin looked at Toby up and down

“I’m not a troll! I’m a Toby”

“And who is this lovely creature?”

Claire chuckled.

Y/n smiled. She remembered being a child and her father playing pretend with her. Dancing around his office and all his introductions starting with “And who is this lovely creature?”

“Blinkous Galadrigal, at your ser…”

“Not you” Merlin stopped Blinky and turned back to Claire “You”

“Uh, Claire Nuñez, sir” she walked out from behind Blinky.

“A pleasure, my dear”

“Oh, she gets to be “my dear”” Toby turns to Y/n and rolls his eyes.

Y/n opens her eyes wide. She looks back at Merlin, but he was busy cracking every bone in his body. She sighed in relief.

“Okay, then, first things first” Merlin rubbed his hands “Why haven’t you greeted me?” He lifts his brow.

The team looked at each other in confusion.

Y/n pushed herself out of the wall

“I…I…” her mouth opened and closed but no sound came out.

“I can see you” Merlin insisted.

The team turned and looked at Y/n.

“I thought…you may want to meet the team first” her accent heavy on her tongue.

“Come to the light” the wizard ordered but his voice was soft.

Y/n looked at her friends' confused faces and looked down, walking the few steps that separated her from her father.

She saw her father’s beard contour in a smile that she mirrored.

“Hi” she whispered as she looked up to his blue eyes.

“I’ve been away for a long time” He grabs her by the shoulders “You really have grown, birdie” he whispers only for her to hear.

Y/n smiles and nods, trying to hold the tears in place. She imagined a thousand times having her father back in front of her, she never imagined her anger would melt.

“I have missed you, father” she smiles, taking one of his hands.

“Whaaaaat?” Toby says.

A/n: this is my version of Merlin and you are so not ready for it!!!

how many chapters do you think it’s going to take me to use drywall by paris paloma or tolerate it by taylor swift? 🤔 i have a whole daddy issues playlist dont tempt me to use more than one song

#tales of arcadia #douxie x reader #douxie #toa #trollhunters #hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #my writing #Til The End Of Eternity

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landwriter · 1 year

Note

Throwing vague Hobrinthian inspiration your way. You'd write them so deliciously.

Thank you!! Back in January I wrote 8K of them - I think it's honestly my favourite thing I've written or close to it <3 Just Like Love. The Corinthian comes across Hob in a hotel bar after he's stood up in 1989. Things don't go as planned.

Here's an excerpt from the continuation of that 'verse:

---

Hob Gadling isn’t his boyfriend. Hob is better. He’s a soldier, a hunter, a haunted man, and it makes every grain of the Corinthian sing to know that one of the ghosts rattling around in there is him. Of course it is. He’s memorable. Doesn’t change how good it feels, though, to have been followed across the Atlantic by something almost as hungry as him.

Hob is holding a plastic bag, and the Corinthian can smell the meat from here.

“Fresh from Lancashire,” he says, all fucking casual-like.

The Corinthian walks over, hooks a finger into the bag and pulls it open to see what it is. Black pudding, he thinks. He’s standing close to Hob, close enough to feel how Hob notices it, how his pulse quickens a little. He still smells like airports. He thinks Hob will wrap an arm around him, pull him in. Kiss him filthy right here in his kitchen. Hob doesn’t do anything but let him inspect his gift. He looks up, and pretends he’s disappointed about the offering instead. He should be.

“I’m not a fucking reptile in a terrarium. You don’t need to buy me crickets.”

“Well. Thought this was more on the mice side of the scale.” And then his face does that hideous English thing, where he’s obviously hurt but smiles and pretends he isn’t, which isn’t half as fun when it’s just his feelings. “But you don’t have to-” he starts, all fake cheer, and the Corinthian grits his eyeteeth.

“Stop making that face,” he says, and snatches the bag away. Sees too late Hob smiling a little, and realizes he was playing at being injured, just to get him to come closer. He sets it on the counter, and feels Hob close right up behind him. There’s warm breath on the back of his neck for a moment before Hob speaks.

“You sure? Maybe it’s a bit like feeding wild foxes. Shouldn’t do that.”

The Corinthian turns and uses his height to bully Hob against the fridge, presses him there, then murmurs into Hob’s ear, threatening, just the way he likes. “You think I’ll forget how to feed myself?”

Hob is already hard against his thigh and he tilts his head up, to kiss the side of his neck. His heart is thumping so steady and strong the Corinthian wonders if he’s got a bigger heart working in there, one to power all his hunger. A horse heart, crushed into his ribcage.

“Maybe I’d like it if you forgot,” Hob says. “Maybe I’d like to spoil you. Maybe I’d like you to try eating out of my hand. See if you don’t like it better, to be fed by another.” He says it flirtatiously, covering up the tenderness there with hunger, because he knows the Corinthian’s mother tongue. But he hears the tenderness in it still, and it ripples over his instincts like a different kind of threat. A different kind of snare. Still wire-sharp. He knows he’d draw blood if he struggled in it, even if Hob would let him go the moment he really did. That’s why he stills, he figures. That’s why he goes all limp, submissive.

Hob feels it. Hob knows exactly what he’s done, and he runs a soft hand over the back of his neck, like he’s tamed him. The Corinthian finally twitches away roughly.

“Kinky.” He grabs the forgotten sausage and starts slicing it to be fried. And Hob just laughs, like it was the joke they were making together all along.

---

Twenty minutes later, he’s kneeling on the floor, still wearing his apron that says #1 Grill Dad, and Hob is feeding a cut-up piece of fried black pudding to him. It’s overcooked. They’d gotten distracted. He licks a stripe across Hob’s palm and feels the small muscles twitch under his tongue. Hob’s hand withdraws, and comes back a moment later to stroke the back of his head, dull nails scraping invisible tracks along him. It feels good. He hates it, he thinks.

He leans forward, and nuzzles against Hob’s crotch. The denim chafes his cheeks. Hob groans and ruts into him, his idle hand on his head turned greedy, knotting into his hair. Hob pulls him off, and he looks up, mouth hanging open.

“You going to bite it off if I let you?” he asks.

“Will it grow back?”

Hob sucks in air through his teeth and pretends like he’s considering it too. “You want to take the chance and find out that it doesn’t?”

“Nah,” he says, and Hob laughs and unbuttons his jeans.

---

He blames it on being fucked stupid for the first time in weeks. He blames it on being dark in the room. He blames it on Hob wrapped around him from behind, possessive. “You’d really care for me, huh?”

Hob scoffs, then seems to realize he’s not fucking around. His hand comes around and finds the Corinthian’s throat, and he strokes a line along where his pulse should be. “Yeah. Yeah, ‘course I would.”

“You can’t save me, Hob,” he says.

Hob huffs a laugh against his shoulder blades. “Well, then you won’t mind me trying, will you?”

#asks #the sandman #cob!#the corinthian #hob gadling #realizing one of my favourite corinthian headcanons is that he falls faster and harder than even hob #gets it from his maker yanno #wip excerpts #my writing #just like love #hobrinthian #(but really cob)

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spacerangersam · 4 months

Note

Tell me more about your BBC Ghosts character swap AU please?

(like I wanna know from you about the other BH ghosts you didn't draw in their character swap AU version yet on what their character swap would be, for example Thomas, Mary & Robin please?)

Thanks!

I'd be happy to!

Thomas is a caveman, tricked into a fight by his cousin (with less of the dramatics though, since Francis couldn't have forged a letter) who either got stabbed with a spear or bonked on the head with a club. Regardless, he was killed and in death, gets to carry around a spear. It‘s big, cumbersome and annoying, and I just think it’s funny. He can give the living bruises with it.

To blabber on a bit: his name is actually To, but Julian thought that was stupid so renamed him Thomas, and he did originally come from Scotland. Though it wasn't called Scotland when he was there, obviously.

He struggles a lot with modern English - he’s lived through the rise and fall and change of so many languages that he really struggles to keep up. He slips between using new English and old English, French, old Brythonic languages etc, especially when he’s upset. That's what really kick-started his friendship with Patrick- Pat was the first one really willing to just stop and try to understand what Thomas was saying, and the first one to really sit down and help Thomas with his English. They have lessons every Thursday evening.

He still likes poetry, but because of all that he’s even worse at it. He also still hates Byron, just for less personal reasons.

With the whole having being around for thousands of years and watched people come and go, he's terrified of the other ghosts moving on without him. He doesn't like to sleep alone because of it, likes being able to keep an eye on at least one ghosts during the night. He tends to spend the night with Pat or Kitty, curled up on the foot of their beds, but he’ll stay with someone else now and then

Mary is a Girl Guide leader from the 80s. She's a timid woman to begin with, raised in a strict Catholic household, who works in a farm shop-come-cafe. She was encouraged to take up the Guide role by her husband to give her more confidence, and she stayed with it after his death. It didn't really make her more confident though, and her Guides quickly learned that they could walk all over her. She died while camping out on the Button grounds - some of the girls set a fire that quickly got out of control. Mary couldn't get out of her tent and died of asphyxiation (suspend your disbelief if you wouldn't mind). She still was close to Annie (and depending on how much you want to play around with the au, Annie could still be around, era switched with the plagues) and learned to be more confident through her.

She insists on doing grace at mealtimes, even though she can't eat, tells people off for blasphemy, and prays on Sundays in lieu of going to mass. The longer she's with the ghosts though, the less she does it. She has a few handy survival tools in her pockets, and like Pat, knows a thing or two about using a bow and arrow.

Robin is from the Georgian era, a nobleman's son who was sent to live with his uncle in hopes he'd straighten Robin out and turn him into a proper gentleman. Robin hated that idea. He planned to make a getaway and start a new life, one where he could just be himself, only to get struck by lightning before he ever made it off the grounds.

It's hard think of a Robin with ‘perfect’ speech, so I like to imagine he came over from North Wales, Welsh being his first language. He does speak English, albeit reluctantly, and has no desire to be fluent in it.

He's still outdoorsy and cares a lot about animals - his parents never had much time for him so he spent most of his time chasing around mice in the manor and sneaking into the stables to pet the horses. He can also still muck around with electricity.

I don't think I've talked about Julian either, but he's the headless Tudor. Much like in canon, he didn't pay much attention to his wife or child, which was ultimately his downfall when he unknowingly partied with people who were plotting to kill the queen and was damned by association. He got his head lobbed off, and the head can appear in photographs. He makes so many jokes about it.

I can't really think of much else to say at the moment but yeah, that's them

#sorry there's so much about thomas i just. i think about this version of tom and his relationship with pat a lot #roleswap au

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jungle-angel · 10 months

Text

All Tied Up In You (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: After you’ve put the hotel behind you forever, you and Miles built a life together in Montana, but there are some moments where you get really tied up and lost in each other

Warnings: BIG SMUT WARNING (18+ Minors do not interact), oral, breeding kink, ropeplay etc. etc.

Tagging: @sebsxphia @nobody7102

It had been a hard day, a beautiful day but a hard one. Yet you and Miles would take this over running the hotel any day of the week. At last you could put it all behind you for good and not worry about a damn thing.

Otis and the other ranch hands had just finished herding the cattle into the barns for the night while Miles had opted to stable the horses. The other hands were busy in their bunkhouse, most likely drinking or throwing meat on the grill or engaging in some lewd and obscene act that Otis would probably chew them out for later.

You trailed your way down the beaten little path from the cottage to the barn, the skies having darkened with only a few gradient shades of pink, orange and deep blue with the trees silhouetted against them. Come the fall, the trees would lose their leaves, becoming nothing more than bare, fingerlike projections while the pines remained, towering into the skies with their pointed little peaks.

The doors were still opened, the dim lights shining in the dark while the horses settled in for the night in their stalls. You watched Miles as he stacked the bales of hay, one on top of the other while the very obviously pregnant barn cat and her mate curled around his ankles. “Hey, you two, out,” Miles said, shooing them away to their little sleeping spot. “Go chase some mice or something.”

You chuckled a little bit knowing that the male and female cats were sure to do just that. Somewhere in the barn a little portable radio played a haunting Johnny Cash piece while Miles continued to stack the hay.

He let out a pained groan, hunching over a little before you wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his shoulders. “You’re working too hard,” you chuckled with a little smirk.

“And you’ve been hiding all day, haven’t you Mrs. Miller?” Miles remarked, unable to control the grin that threatened to break out on his face.

“Hardly,” you responded. “If anything I’ve been taking care of the house.”

You were readily turned on by the little purr in Miles’s throat, feeling it running from your chest and down into your legs. He turned to face you, his strong arms hoisting you onto the stack of haybales so that your legs could wrap around his waist. You weakened as his hands gripped your sides, his long fingers playing with the laces on your summer dress. You kissed him deeply, desperate and needy for him as the kissing became more heated and more passionate.

Miles slipped his tongue past your lips and into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of you. You let out a pouty little whine when he suddenly pulled away from you, gently cupping your face in his hands.

“Hayloft,” he murmured. “Now.”

You were taken aback by how low his voice was, almost like a thunderstorm settling in. Quietly you went up to the hayloft, climbing up the ladder while Miles stuck his black cowboy hat on his head and grabbed a rope from the hook on a stall door. He came up to the hay filled area behind you before you kicked off your boots and laid down in the hay.

“No,” Miles told you. “Hands above your head.”

“Are you sure?”

Miles nodded. “Are you ok with it?”

You nodded a little timidly.

Tentatively and gently, Miles lay on top of you, raising your arms so they were above your head, very gently tying them with the rope. “Not too tight is it?”

“No, you answered, shaking your head.

Miles kissed you again, drawing a few moans from your mouth as he moved his way up to kiss your bound wrists. “You’re so gorgeous.....” he mumbled. “.....all tied up for me....my pretty little wife.”

You shifted your hips up against his, desperate for a little bit of friction against the thin panties that covered your aching pussy. “Miles,” you moaned. “I want you so bad.....please....let me....”

“Let you what?” he asked, trailing kisses down to your neck.

“Let me fuck you.”

“In a minute sweetheart, in a minute,” he gently reminded you.

Down he trailed, taking careful pains to nip a little at your breasts, unable to get enough of the softness. He kissed the inside of your sensitive thighs, your nerves begging for more until Miles was shoulder deep under your dress. You felt his face all over both sides of your hips, moving from one end to the other until he wriggled out and came back up with your panties in his teeth.

He spat them out into his hand, tossing them aside, only to bury his face in your pussy. The moans that fell from your mouth were obscene, more obscene than those in the porn flick that one of the hands had been caught watching.

“And to think,” Miles mumbled again. “You kept this gorgeous pussy from me all day.”

You could hardly speak as his tongue hit the bundle of nerves between your legs perfectly. You wanted nothing more than to ride his face, but you couldn’t. You were too caught up in the throes of your own ecstasy that you wanted him to just keep going.

“Miles.....” you moaned. “Miles I’m....I’m gonna....”

“Ah-ah! Don’t even think about it,” Miles chuckled. “Not until I come in.”

Off came his shirt and then his dark washed jeans before Miles stripped off his boxers. He lay on top of you once again, pressing his warm body against yours before his hands undid your dress. He slid it right off into the hay, sitting you right up and slowly easing you onto his throbbing, aching cock.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he murmured, slowly guiding your hips. “Slowly.....slowly....there’s a good girl. Oh sweetheart....you’re so wet....you’re so wet for me.”

You smiled a little as you held Miles’s hands underneath yours, pressing them against your hips. You rocked a little bit on his cock, desperate to feel Miles inside you, making him moan just as you had done before.

“Ride me sweetheart,” Miles told you. “Ride me the way you ride one of the horses.”

You smiled at him as you placed his black cowboy hat on your head, your hips rising and falling onto his cock

He didn’t once take his hands off of you as his hands trailed to your stomach, tracing little circles around your navel.

“You want me to make you a momma?” he purred. “Want me to fill that gorgeous little tummy with my baby? Get your breasts all full of milk?”

“Yes, yes, daddy, yes please,” you pleaded, trying to keep quiet.

You threw your bound wrists around the back of his neck and kept kissing him deeply as you moved up and down on his cock, riding him as though you were once again in the saddle the ache between the both of you becoming almost unbearable. You felt something warm and liquid suddenly bursting between your legs, yours and Miles’s little pants and moans finally quieting down as you caught your breath.

You did so good, baby,” Miles cooed as he sleepily kissed you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself Miles,” you laughed a little. “I could go all night.”

And that was a challenge Miles was willing to accept.

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #bad times at the el royale

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yowyowyaoi · 7 months

Text

Zetsu’s Daily Texts from the Akatsuki

From Nagato

You can’t keep eating them without checking to see if we’re using them first.

300 miles? Is that really the closest?!

I can put you with Tobi or Hidan. Take your pick.

Put the letters where they can find them, then stay somewhere hidden to see their reactions.

Keep an eye on them please. No explosions, no sacrifices. Nothing to draw attention.

I’ve been practicing every day. Legs feel stronger.

I’d only risk it if you also want to risk being placed in a gengetsu.

I’m sure I’ll be gone before her. All I ask is she be well taken care of. It’s all that matters.

No. Under no circumstances. I need them all ALIVE and able to work, please.

You can ask but she’ll probably hit you hard enough to REALLY split you in half.

From Kakuzu

Yes well your appetite is proving quite costly.

Find where he’s hiding and I’ll give you a third of his bounty.

I’m not so sure that “intelligence” is a quality I’d associate with any of them.

Actually if you could naturally produce that we could sell bottles and make some money 🤔

Much, much too expensive.

I don’t care if you eat him but wait until I get his heart out first.

I’d rather you ate me; my body won’t be on display for him to entertain Deidara with.

It’s complicated. And by complicated I mean I let a one time physical urge turn into a years-long relationship.

It’s the 1st. Rent and utilities are due.

If I didn’t we wouldn’t have *anything*. Be grateful.

I’m not sure if my threads would hold for plant-skin.

Stop losing them for God’s sake each one costs $50 in materials to make!!

I’ll take your word for it. That voice creeps me out.

From Konan

Please don’t ever do that again. Nagato almost had a heart attack. 😡

It’s funny in a shouldn’t be funny way.

Wait you’ve seen him without the mask 👀

No I don’t care if they’re annoying we don’t have the time to replace them now!!

Ask Sasori to take a look. He enjoys a challenge.

I don’t care how easy it was to get, I’m NOT cooking with that kind of “meat” 🤢

No offense but do you even have nails 🤔

I’d rather we didn’t need to pick up and move again unless absolutely necessary.

Since we were children 🥰

I’d kill anyone who tried. With my bare hands.

Kisame may be able to but the rest will need it cooked.

You’re THAT old?! 😵‍💫

Stick to guys. I will remain the only woman in this group.

Can’t you eat them? Aren’t you part Venus fly trap??

From Hidan

Freak.

Then stop watching, weirdo!

Because if you take the body before my praying is finished then the entire ritual is void!!

Not to be gay but yeah I see what he sees.

Then steal him some damn glasses next time!

But do plants even have dicks? Like is it green? Does it smell like grass? 🤔

He’s such a liar he wanted me since the day we met 😂

I saw you eyeing that cat and so did Itachi.

How do you say “Fuck you” in plant-speak?

They’re not “pink” they’re “rose”, heathen.

Ribs without sauce is like fucking without lube. Like what’s even the point?

If I could convert even one of those fucks I’d become a High Priest for Jashin.

Can’t. Kakuzu’s “withholding my paycheck” until I pay off that bounty of his that I killed. 🙄

So come with us. Everyone’s weird you’ll fit right in.

From Sasori

Elderberry, nightshade, and primrose. For now.

A mouse learns to fear other mice before it even thinks about predators.

Please stop that you gave him nightmares last time and I couldn’t work on my puppets for a whole week 😒

I don’t care as long as it has a big enough space for a lab.

Damn blue eyes trapped me for eternity.

An interesting experiment, certainly.

I have vague memories but that’s all.

You appear to be “friends” so talk to him and tell him to back off.

Who do you think I am? That freak Orochimaru?!

I don’t buy that stupid act for a second.

If I suggested aloe vera would you find that insulting?

You and I are the least bothersome in terms of eating. I don’t, and you hunt.

I’ll contribute when the expense is relative to me.

From Kisame

So far only Itachi knows about it but the water there is clear and beautiful.

Your way of thinking is truly fascinating.

Of course you’re welcome to join us but you’ve voiced objections before to both tea and sweets.

No, I’ll BURY him myself before I let you eat him.

Crab and shrimp. Especially crab.

I’m aware. His smell is getting weaker and his chakra is shaky.

I admire your patience for it but I don’t do so well in the sun for so long.

Again? Why?? Who attracted attention this time? 😒

I don’t but Samehada seems to.

The battlefield is empty. Care to join me at the buffet? 😋

Between the prayer rituals and the constant bombing I just can’t handle either of them.

Salt is for the weak. Pure fear flavors the meat better than any seasoning.

From Deidara

You can’t prove that was me, that could have been anyone!

If I’m successful there won’t BE anything left of me to eat so 🤷🏼

Idk you just look gray. Maybe stand in the sun for a while?

Ok we may eat more BUT his food costs more!

Wait is it real hair or like plant stuff ��

I didn’t this time he was dancing and he tripped on his cloak like an idiot.

Honestly not until I met Sasori lol

Omg where?! Riverbanks are always a goldmine of natural clay! 🤩

I get that but I’m just not interested, eternity is so boring.

Low key he goes into this voice sometimes that scares the piss out of me.

Bc it’s weird man it’d be like watching my mother shower or something 😖

Like usual he couldn’t shut up and almost got us killed on the spot 😡

Not unless you want to pick the lice out of my hair afterwards.

From Itachi

Not sure of the exact dynamics but I think it’s second or third cousins.

Maybe it’s best we all just live with our own partners. Too many in one area and eventually someone figures it out.

No he’s as gentle as possible. I just have sensitive skin.

Yes but cabbage is so versatile.

You saw him? Did he look well? 👀

The glasses help some but most everything is still a massive blur.

I tried. Nagato tried. He refuses to give up on the idea.

There is no “before” and there’s no “after0. There’s just NOW.

No I know he ate it because he had the jam smeared all over his collar.

22 doesn’t really interest me.

From Obito

The right arm still twitches if I try to lift too much.

Come on weren’t YOU happy when he died?!

He can’t turn me down forever. Just picture him with the Uchiha fan on his back 😍

Yeah well he’s still my little cousin and I still worry.

I think it scares him a little, he almost walked into a tree that first time I did it on accident.

It’s not excessive; the sugar is literally the only thing pushing me forward right now.

I would bet money that he’s the worst Sensei ever to those kids. No wonder Sasuke was so weak.

The constant money woes are so tedious.

Blind or not his reflexes are unmatched and he could still take me out in one move.

We should have put more emphasis on intelligent and less on “skills”.

You’ve gotta admit the explosions DO liven things up 🤷🏻

What if you ate him and he could still talk from inside of your stomach though? Is that a chance you want to take?

Bonus: From Madara

He stopped responding two years ago he acts like I’m dead.

What? That little shit. 😡

If the blonde is giving him too much of a distraction, dispose of him.

You don’t need to pre-chew my food I’m not a baby bird.

Have you seen my good blanket?

What happened to my slippers?

🍆 I want this. I’m craving this so bad. Please bring it to me.

Tell that boy to come back I need a good bath and a haircut.

Perhaps if you hadn’t recruited so many *brats* you wouldn’t be having such an issue.

Whatever you do, do NOT let them breed.

Did you remember where I stashed my last painting of Hashirama?

If I was younger I could have eliminated the entire group within seconds. They’d never even know what hit them.

Please procure a backscratcher and industrial grade toenail clippers.

Wait until he sleeps and move several large rocks into his room. I guarantee he’ll cry.

First that young lass, then the Hatake boy, now the blonde. He never learns his lesson does he?

What do you mean he cut it?? An Uchiha’s hair is his crown! Tell him to get back here NOW.

I should have chosen Fugaku’s son instead. Likely a lot less crying.

#texting #zetsu #Akatsuki Daily Texts Series #nagato uzumaki #konan #itachi uchiha #kisame hoshigaki #deidara #sasori #kakuzu #hidan #obito uchiha #madara uchiha

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shinyzango · 7 months

Note

Ok OP, tell me all about your OCs. Those little dudes running in your head/( positive joking)

*crashes through the window*

YES HELLO I WILL TALK ABOUT MY BABIES NOW--

(apologies for taking this long lots has happened in these days)

Most of my OCs exist within their own universe, so I'll try to group them up. Also some images are just sketch as I don't have any recent drawing of them in color. Something I need to fix soon...

ANYWAYS LET'S GO.

~-~{}~-~

🐲 KEHO

A strong, stoic wanderer with an ancient blood coursing through his veins, commonly known as Dragon Blood, that causes the host to constantly fight against the powerful instincts of a dragon from feeding on their emotions and overtake them. Normally cold and easily irritable, but will show signs of affections after digging deep in his hard shell. Keho was exhiled from his home village when he was little after succombing to his Blood and destroyed half the village as a result of seeing his whole family murdered by a hunter. Since that day, he has lived on his own and away from society in fear of being rejected again or hunted down. This fear eventually turned in coldness and mistrust towards anyone and anything. That is until one day he saves an elven sorceress from a dangerous beast and escorts her through the area, eventually warming up to her and deciding to join her in her travels.

🧙‍♀️ ZANGO MAJICANA

An optimistic, cheerful elven sorceress traveling the world on a journey for knowledge of myths, legends and any forms of magic. Easily excitable by new things and always seeing the bright side of everything. She was born in a renowed village of magic-users, and started her journey at a young age as part of her studies. Great mastery over elemental magic. She's also trying to learn potion brewing, but she's not too skilled with it. Zango always had a great fascination over myths and legends, loving to learn about forgotten stories and mythical things inhabiting the world. One day she ventured in an unfamiliar area after being tricked by a false map and is saved from a dangerous beast by a stranger. She asks if he can escort her out of the area. In that time she tries to talk with him with little result, but eventually she manages to get through his hard shell, and eventually he decides to join her in her travels.

--- As time goes on, Zango and Keho grow closer, leading to Keho opening up about his past and himself for the first time since his exhile, and Zango wanting to learn more about the Dragon Blood in order to help him find a way to control it better.

~-~{}~-~

🎶 TEMPO

Carefree and charismatic, Tempo is a young man wandering the world in a quest to discover all kinds and forms of music. Innate talent with music, he's capable of learning any instrument or dance incredibly fast. He always carries his backpack, carrying his trustworthy staff, a couple instruments to play on the fly and even a formal attire for special events or for the occasional dance session.

~-~{}~-~

💂‍♂️ HANS DROSSELMEYER

A shy, yet gold-hearted young man cursed into a Nutcracker Doll and needing to journey through his homeworld to break the curse. Skilled clockmaker, he's now forced to fight for his life and protect his companion against the mice. He's very nervous and insecure about his own capabilities, but he still holds a strong sense of justice, always ready to help those in need.

🧵 CLARA STAHLBAUM

A kind young woman who has been shrunk in size by the Mouse King and now has to journey through the Nutcracker Doll's homeworld to help him break their curses. Training in ice skating and practical in sewing thanks to her hobby of fixing dolls, she tries her best to be of help to her companion despite not having means to defend herself early on. Compassionate and gentle at heart, she always prefers trying to find peaceful solutions by talking things down instead of resorting to drastic actions.

--- You can learn more about Hans and Clara, as well as the other characters in their story, by checking the #TheLastNutcracker tag!

~-~{}~-~

🐱 RENKA

Fearful, extremely shy cat girl who's been living with a human after being rescued from a life of starvation and slavery. She belongs to a seemingly extinct species of feline-human hybrids. Having grown as a slave and being treated like an animal her entire life, she is greatly scared of anyone getting close to her aside from her rescuer and his friends.

💉 MELONY

A serious medic who owns a clinic in a small country town. She happily attends to all the townfolks, making sure everyone is healthy. While doing so, she is also secretely developing a formula able to fully heal and reinvigorate anyone with little to no side effects. She's content of her calm life until an outsider arrives at her clinic requesting medical attention. Her life becomes more chaotic the more visits she receives from this mercenary, especially after he brings her a cat person on the brink of death by starvation, agreeing to help her learn about her species.

~-~{}~-~

And that's p much it! Most of them are greatly summarized to not go too in details, while others I've not yet developed their character and/or story too much. Despite that however, I still love each one of them very dearly 💝

#oc #long post #I tried explaining everything as clearly as possible while trying to not write too much dfkjhn #but ye have my babies

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existential-angstt · 11 months

Text

Pay Attention Please (P. 7) // (professor) Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Reader

A/N: hhhhhhhhh i found a tik tok that reminded me of prof!dio, here have it:https://www.tiktok.com/@christianrlocke/video/7219505883754057003?_r=1&_t=8cvfMBYA92Uand uh- on this chapter- no, no, dont thank me. hold the applause. just enjoy :)

Taglist: @lokanda @sneetsnootyoit

“Excitement” was an understatement for what you felt when you woke up the next day, the day of Professor Morrissey’s next class. All you’d been able to think about for the last two days was your two bodies tangled together, how pretty he was when he slept, dark eyelashes fanned over his pretty cheeks. You took a little extra care to get ready, actually putting on makeup for once and styling your hair. Your roommate was watching you the entire time with such a look on her face but completely silent.

You sighed. “What?”

Your roommate bit her lip a little, holding back a cat that ate the canary grin. “So you gonna fuck him again?” she said flatly, still trying so hard to hold back her grin. You made a little mocking pouty face that broke into a blushy look. “Maybe,” you managed.

“Gosh, Y/N, a professor. I never woulda pegged you for the type. Needless to say, I’m happy…. And- are you- going over there tonight?” she eyed your makeup and hair. You did that same little mocking pouty angry face again, even though it was exaggerated and ended in a smile. “Maybe,” you repeated, even though that was certainly at least your hope if not your plan.

“Good,” she quipped and started typing on her phone. You were pretty sure she was texting some fuckbuddy that it was a go tonight, which made you want to go over to- your mind relished this- Dio’s place even more.

You paused when choosing an outfit. You were no prude but you usually dressed a little more modestly- comfortably was a better word. Sweatpants, sweaters… jeans…. You weren’t a sorority girl by any stretch of the imagination. But that didn’t mean you didn’t have things in your arsenal. You decided on a dark green turtleneck sweater and paired it with a short black pleated skirt– something leftover from your dark academia phase and a little too short for you to usually consider it. A lot too short. But today? Oh, today it was perfect.

You added some thin see-through tights and some big black boots– you thought it would suit his style, draw him right in like a fly in a trap. After all, you had a convenient back door into some of the things he liked. You were a little self-conscious leaving your dorm but every time that creeping anxiety sent circus mice flipping in your stomach you thought of the noises he made when he fucked you, how he called you princess. It replaced those little circus mice with a burning white heat that made you walk with your shoulders squared and your head high.

You beat him– and everyone else– to the classroom like usual, sank into your regular seat and waited. He was a little later getting to class than normal and other students had already begun to filter in, making you that much more enthused to see his response to your little outfit. He hurried in and set his things down, hardly noticing you, in a hurry because he was late (at least for him, he was). He got a few things up on the board and once he had all his things set out on his desk ready to begin, his eyes drifted over to you. And stopped.

He paused there, frozen– and the other students walking in might've mistaken it for him being lost in thought. But you could see his eyes were locked on your legs, stretched out beneath your desk and perfectly parted– not indecently of course, but enough to garner this reaction. His eyes flicked up to yours and you could see some of that heat there from the other day. Hook, line, and sinker.

He turned back around and stared at the board for a moment as though consulting its wisdom. You knew– or at least hoped– he was trying to hide the half-boner he suddenly had. You could see his back rise and fall as he took a very deep breath. Definitely the second one then. You watched with sick triumph and a little grin you couldn’t help as he sat back down at his desk and made busy while the rest of the class filtered in.

After everyone was in, he got back up and started the lesson. He was doing so well– he didn’t give away any of what you could tell he was feeling. The tension, the… need. He kept his gaze pointedly away from you but every once in a while, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself and his eyes would drift in your direction, specifically your legs. And then he’d catch himself and quickly look anywhere else. You bit your lip to keep from laughing at him.

Towards the end of the lesson, he gave the class a worksheet and sat down to grade papers, a little more restrained with his casual glances. You pouted a little that a desk was now in your way, that he was practically hiding from you but worked on your worksheet diligently, sure there would be something in it for you afterward. The classroom phone rang suddenly and sharply through the quiet room and the professor jumped a little.

He picked it up, his voice a little jagged from jumping as badly as he did. “Hello, room 113?” He listened to the other end and after a long moment, his face went a little stoney. Unhappy. “I see,” he finally said. A few other students also picked up on his tone and watched him on the phone call, waiting to see what the news was. That giddy horny feeling in your stomach turned to dread as you watched his expressions change. He finally hung up the phone and the class waited with bated breath but he just went back to whatever he was doing, his mouth set in a grim line.

What in the hell was that phone call?

Class ended sooner than you expected– Professor Morrissey called it early and dismissed everyone. Told them to get an early jump on their homework. As the class emptied out, his eyes fell on you and stayed there– not on your eyes, but lower. The heat in your belly reignited and your heartbeat thrummed in your ears. He got up and gathered his things, his eyes flicking back to yours in a silent invitation. You jumped up and gathered your things and hurried up to the front of the room to meet him but he was already walking out, meaning you were practically jogging to keep up with his long-legged strides.

He wasn’t giving you hardly any time to keep up, only slowing down once you fell more than five feet behind. You completed your routine, down the stairs, onto the bus- but when you moved to get off at your stop he grabbed your wrist. You froze and looked up at him wide-eyed but he didn’t even look at you, just gave your trapped wrist a squeeze. You stayed put, watching him a moment longer and then dropped your gaze, enjoying that his hand didn’t drop its hold on you.

At the next stop he gave your wrist a little tug and then let go, moving for the door. You followed and noted that this stop was much closer to his apartment, just up the street from it. He continued with his faster pace, even though for him it seemed a normal pace– you’d never noticed how much he slowed himself down when you two were together simply so you didn’t have to chase after him like a small dog. He was already halfway inside his building when you reached the door.

You followed him up and into his apartment and he dropped his stuff just inside the door like last time, letting you come in and do the same. But once you had, he rounded on you and boxed you in, pinning you against the closed front door. All of the breath came rushing out of your chest as all of his weight was pressed against you and you looked up at him with wide startled eyes.

He regarded you with those deep brown irises, nearly black in this light, just looking you over, inches away from your face. “Did you think you could wear something like that to tease me?” he said lowly, eyes searching your face. All you could do was look up at him with wide eyes, heat flushing your face and other places. “I need an answer,” he said lowly, shifting against you, not so much grinding or anything but just shifting his hold and how he was resting his weight against you.

“I- I- don’t- I don’t know what you mean,” you stammered out. You knew perfectly well what he meant. He let out a low rumbly noise, not a growl but a sound deep in his chest. You felt his hands grip your wrists and bring them up to pin them against the door on either side of your head, leaning in closer. You could feel his hot breath on your face. Everything was so hot and your skin was prickling and you couldn’t move, just trapped in this tiny space beneath him, his eyes roving over you, mostly your face– your eyes, your mouth, your throat-

“Don’t pretend– don’t be a brat,” he murmured, leaning so close you thought he was going to kiss you– but he didn’t. And that was part of this act, this teasing. Holding you so close and not really doing anything at all but holding you there under his heavy stare.

"I- I don't know what you mean, D-Dio," you stuttered again. He purred low, squeezing your wrists, his nails biting into your flesh. "Let's stick with "sir" for now why don't we?"

He shifted against you again, pressing his hips into yours and holding you there firmly. "Say "yes, sir"," he chided lowly, looking up and down your body, eyes lingering on your skirt.

"Y- yes-" You moaned, getting lost in the pressure of his hips against yours, his hard cock pressed against you, making your breath catch. "Yes, what, princess? Yes, what?" He pushed your hands a bit higher against the door, above your head a little.

You whimpered slightly, pushing your hips up towards him to get some sweet friction but he pulled away, his only contact his hands on yours.

"Say it," he murmured, eyeing you again, those dark brown eyes burning into you. "Yes- yes, sir, yes- sir," you gasped out, every inch of you on fire.

"Good girl," he mumbled as he came crashing in to kiss you deeply, pressing his whole frame against yours, crushing you against the door. You let out a stifled moan and kissed him back desperately, tugging at your hands which were still pinned but his hold on them didn't loosen.

The smell of him was in your mouth, in your nose- dark musk and a hint of spice, like pumpkin and cinnamon. He kissed you so sweetly and deeply, the complete opposite of his demeanor up to this point, his tongue pushing its way into your mouth to lick and taste you. He moaned softly against you and you replied with a moan, so responsive under his hands.

A second more and he was pulling you away from the door, refusing to break the connection he had with your mouth but walking you step by step back to the bedroom.

You followed willingly, letting him guide you, and laughed a little when he grunted, as he'd backed into the doorframe of his bedroom a little. He took the opportunity to pull you inside and push you lightly into the bed. You flopped down against it on your tummy, bent over the end of it. He steadied you with hands on your hips, holding you in that bent-over position. You bit your lip and minutely angled your ass so it was presented to him.

He let put a little purr and, left hand still resting on your hip, he moved his right hand up to rub at your ass. You moaned and pushed back against his hand, panting softly against his sheets. His hand started pushing your skirt up and he murmured, "Here's how this is going to go."

"I'm going to spank you… for being such a teasing little slut all of class– after all, we should remain professional in public," he said, still rubbing at your ass. Your heart was thrumming in your ears now and there was a fiery tingle at the bottom of your stomach.

"I'm going to spank you and you're going to count. If you mess up, you start again. If you mess up twice… well. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it but… you won't like it," he said in a deep low voice that made you shudder. He gave your ass a squeeze and said, "Say, "Yes, sir","

"Y- yes, sir," you moaned. This was going to be hard. He leaned in closer, pressing his cock into your ass and hissed in your ear, "And no stammering or you begin again." You moaned again, panting softly, heart still racing.

He paused a moment and then gave your ass a swift spank. "I didn't hear a "yes, sir" princess," he hummed, clearly enjoying himself. You cried out at the strike, arching your back more to push your ass toward him. "Y- yes, sir-" You steeled yourself not to stammer again, "Yes, sir."

"That's my good girl," he praised, rubbing at where he'd just smacked you before delivering another, slightly softer spank. He paused, waiting.

"One," you said firmly, fighting an unevenness in your voice. You could hear the smirk on his face when he said, "Very good." He spanked again, a little harder this time, his hand remaining on your ass to soothe it. You moaned at the thought of what kind of marks would be left on your ass from his pretty hands and his pretty rings-

"Start again," he huffed, smacking you harder. You cried out again, the cry becoming a moan as you repeated, "One."

He smacked again, making such a pretty fucking sound that made your cunt tingle. "Two," you panted out.

Another stroke, another moan from you. "Three," you choked out. He spanked again sharply. "Four," you gasped out, hips bucking.

"Fuck look at you," he murmured, rubbing a soothing hand over your ass again. He gave you another spank. "F-ive," you choked, hoping he wouldn't count it as a stammer. But he rubbed at your ass with a little groan, grinding into you, dragging his cock against your ass slowly. You listened to his breathing quicken and change, your ass stinging from the strikes.

"Look at you, good girl," he groaned, pulling back so he could roll you over onto your back. Once you were resituated he was upon you again, devouring you, kissing you hard and deep, his hands exploring. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer and holding him against you as you rolled your hips against him for friction, moaning into his mouth. He let you, taking the opportunity to lick into your mouth again, tongues tangling.

Still kissing and licking at him, you reached for his hips, for his pants so you could start tugging at his belt eagerly. He let out a deep rumble and one of his hands grabbed yours, pausing against you, his hot breath hitting your face.

"Beg for it," he murmured against you, his eyes darker than before. You looked up at him wide-eyed, lips slightly parted and he leaned in to lick at your bottom lip. You shuddered softly and looked up at him again. "Beg," he repeated lowly.

"Please," you found yourself whimpering up to him, your hand struggling against his hold, reaching for his belt again. "Please," you whined.

He moaned softly and released your hand, letting you yank at his belt which elicited a grunt. He kissed your neck, nipping lightly as you undid buttons and zippers, tearing off his pants as much as you could. He reached down to help you, stepping out of the pants as he sucked a mark on your neck.

A moment later and he was inside you again, the size of his cock just as impressive as the first time. You gasped loudly and moaned and he moaned back, his eyes squeezed shut. "Fuck, princess," he said softly.

You whined softly at the name, squeezing him lightly even though you were already tight around him. He hissed a little, gripping your shoulder, and then slowly he started to rock his hips against you, fucking you gently. You let out soft moans with each thrust until you adjusted to him, taking him more easily and pulling him closer with your hands. He kissed sloppily at your neck, still bucking into you. “You take me so well, princess, fuck- such a good girl for me-”

You moaned harshly as he nipped at the spot where your neck met your shoulder and moved a bit faster, fucking you harder. You dug your nails into his back, sure you were leaving marks which turned you on all the more. “P-please, Dio- I’m- I’m gonna-”

And then all at once he stopped, freezing mid-thrust and you blinked your eyes open at him, looking up. He was smirking down at you, panting softly, and just stopped. You whined, squirming, trying to get him to move, but he reached down and pinned your arms again. “What did we say about what you can call me?” he said lowly, leaning in really close and pressing the softest faintest kisses across your mouth and face. You moaned softly, clit still throbbing at how close you were, the coil in your gut still tight and sensitive. He gave a sharp rut and you let out a choked whimper, heart racing.

“P- please, sir, please- please- le- let me cum, please-” you begged. He slowly started moving again, taking his time to pick up speed, eyes on you the whole time. When you turned your head and let your eyes close again just to feel him, he said, “Look at me.” You did as he said and he kept his eyes on yours, fucking you harder. You could feel yourself drawing close again and you gasped softly, determined not to say anything so he couldn’t deny you again. But he caught it– and, as he watched your expressions closely, he was able to once again bring you right to the edge and then just halt, your pussy throbbing and aching without the sweet relief of orgasm.

You whimpered, a few tears drawing to your eyes at the neediness. “D- s-sir, please- please,” you whined, a few tears falling. He looked satisfied but softened a little, starting to move again. “Call me dio,” he mumbled to you, kissing at the fallen tears on your cheeks, licking them up as he thrust into you. “D- Dio, Dio, Dio, D- Dio-”

“Cum for me princess,” he commanded, moving his hips faster and reaching down to touch your clit. You could barely hold it back for that permission but once it was spoken you were over with. You came with a shout, your back arching, gripping onto him tightly in every sense, nails digging into his back. He gasped a little and fucked you through it, meeting his own shortly after. He laid on you for a moment before slowly pulling out with a hiss and shakily getting to his feet. You mewled at the loss but he disappeared out the bedroom door and all you could do was lay there trembling with overstimulation.

He came back quickly with a glass of water and a soft towel, which he used to clean you up before very gently feeding you the water, whispering soft “good girl” ‘s to you all the while. After he downed some water himself, he climbed into bed beside you and pulled you tightly into his chest, cradling you there like a teddy bear. You nestled in so softly and fell asleep, feeling safer than you ever had in your life.

#dio x you #shane dio morrissey #dio morrissey x reader #dio x reader #dio morrissey #Pedro Pascal #NYPD Blue

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alwaysalreadyangry · 5 months

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guess who decided to turn a poetry assignment - "Elf", as part of a D&D-themed poetry night - into a poem about Astarion. kind of. l o l

elf diaries

sitting down to dinner with one piece of bread crumbling & an old green leaf

i still had my baby name then i soothed burnt herbs under my tongue

i can’t remember their faces just that everything receded

i can go for years without drawing in like a bowstring / one breath

out and other in before i speak of nights in baldur’s gate cruising

beneath birds who curse me back and bring me scraps of peaceable lies

for white hairs and mice meat intact but cold for lack of blood.

it is hard to remember a time when i fell anything other than this winter asleep

caught in my eyelashes like a snowflake unmolten.

if once long ago spoken aloud a different. this one spell stitched into my locket.

breaking into cellars and cupboards. the taste of scorched wine

passes through me as an astral cloud as i pass through old streets

reading on parchment what i do not remember learning. what was it for

when i was a different matter of being. the same shape but in a different place.

the words are long gone and will not return but a melody from two centuries ago

under the moon plucked from our night dark lakes & pinned up in the sky.

sings to me when i fall not asleep, but the sleep of the dead.

i crook myself in the darling arm i have claimed, bitten tenderly

and in a hundred years i will still be.

not much remains. i have faith that

the same feet will walk

silver and dainty but bitten all over by fleas. to find nothing there but

bad taste. dried in coastal mud.

and after centuries more you will walk with me in daylight and the sky’s new lamp beneath old forest and our new names

#bg3 #poetry #lit #i am sorry #astarion

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nastya-sokolova-2002 · 5 months

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I spent almost the whole day struggling with the history of this mouse, but anyway, guys, you get a new character. :'3

Full name: Sheila Vegard (maiden name Necronomicon) Linusovna

Date of birth: March 18, 1944

Character: kind, brave, smart, has a heart of gold

Loves: his family, helping others, being brave, his pet

Dislikes: enemies, losing her family when her younger brother gets into trouble

Russian voice acting: Nyusha (real name of the singer Anna Vladimirovna Shurochkina)

English voice acting: Jessica Straus (when she and Orm were in search of Henry), Bella Thorne (after defeating Snow Queen) (speech); Bella Thorne (vocals)

First appearance in Fanon: The fifth chapter in the fanfiction "SCP Foundation: The Last Pages of History" (as a story)

Last appearance in Fanon: Currently unknown

Story: Sheila was born in the Island of Unnecessary Mice. From birth until 1949, she lived with her parents Linus and Faina. In Fanon, she is Billie's mother. When the North Wind kidnapped Faina, Sheila began to live with her grandmother Gertrude. At first, it was hard for her to leave her dad and her younger brother, but Linus told her that he would be there no matter what. When she lived with her paternal grandmother, Gertrude made a magic mirror for her as a gift. Sheila thanked her very much. When she started studying to be a tailor at a special university for mice, she found a poor little ant on the street. She was very sorry for the baby that she decided to take him in. This ant turned out to be a girl and Sheila decided to name her Loopy. A little later during her studies, she accidentally bumped into Henry, her future husband and who was studying to be an artist. After chatting with him for a while, she began to like him very much. Henry had known her for a long time, from the moment they started studying, but was embarrassed to admit his feelings to her. And she was his muse and he painted several portraits of her. One day, Sheila decided to find him to meet him again, but found one of Henry's drawings. She liked it very much. A few minutes later, she overhears a conversation between Henry and Orm, who is in the form of an ant. During the conversation, Henry says that he is taking Sheila's portrait with him only because she is his only muse and love. When she hears this, she runs up and says that she loves him too. Suddenly, by chance, she saw that the mirror sparkled and showed her real appearance from the reflection of Orm. She directed the glow of the mirror at Orm, who suddenly turned into his real appearance. Sheila realized from shock that the one Henry was talking to was her younger brother. Before she could say anything else, the North Wind caught three of them and took them in different directions: Henry to the palace of Snow Queen, and Orm with Sheila and her pet to one random place. Sheila asks Orm to help find Henry, who initially refuses, but eventually agrees because Sheila warned him not to provoke her. First, she and her brother get into the garden dome, where the flower girl lives, who is not really kind. The old lady wanted Sheila to be her slave. But Orm and Loopy were able to ruin her plan. The woman then sends a carnivorous Ivy plant, but Linus' children and the ant were able to escape. Later, they stumble upon the caves of Oman, which contain the magical Lake Gao. Orm warns the girls not to look into the lake because there are curses of mice living in it after the war between the snow monsters and all the inhabitants of the world. While crossing the lake, Sheila saves her brother by trying to avoid the curse. After that, they meet the king, who has problems with children who quarreled and literally divided the castle in half. There is a fire in the castle and Sheila saves them. After the rescue, the royal personages give her and her brother a sleigh for their journey. When Sheila and Orm rode a sleigh, they first had a conversation about how Orm became a servant of Snow Queen, and then they had a conversation about their parents, or rather, Sheila said that she still remembers them and even Orm himself when he was just born. Orm himself says that he lived with his grandmother Willow all his childhood and that he wants to return to her. Sheila says she remembers her too.

(Sorry that the continuation is again in the form of a screenshot of the text, because again they gave me an error for a large amount of text)

#scp containment breach #scp fanart #scp foundation #scp fandom #pinky and the brain #patb au #patb oc #scp 035 sheila #scp information #interesting facts about scp in my au

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niuttuc · 8 months

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New budget Commander cards: Wilds of Eldraine: White

You know these by now, we'll go color by color, mixing main set and commander set. Reprints can be included if they brought the price down under our bar or are otherwise notable. All the cards presented here are under $2 at time of writing Note that the set hasn't officially released yet, so some prices may still be inflated, and others might spike in the future. Cards will be evaluated as part of the 99, not as commanders. Adventures with off-color parts will be carted off to the multicolor section.

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This shrewd fella is white ramp! Not very good white ramp, mind you, but it's serviceable in some decks. Needing to wait a turn cycle to get the first treasure is very slow, and getting a single treasure a turn cycle at best is also not great. It has the advantage of being white catchup ramp that doesn't turn off your other catch-up ramp, but most of the time, I'd prefer to get a land that'll die much less easily, or even a Commander's Sphere to be completely honest. The card draw mode is present, but at four mana for a single card (you're giving up a treasure), it seems only useful in the most dire of times AND if you've got treasures already. With that said, it'll do the job, and I wouldn't be ashamed to have this in a deck, I just don't think it makes the cut over a rock even on a budget in most cases.

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White board wipes are so numerous these days, it's hard for one to break in more than an archetype or two, and this one also works in a crowded space. Just within the low-power board wipe, there's at least 6 different options just in white. With that said, the ability to control the power you're cutting off at is pretty great to adapt to various situations, and it's almost a strict upgrade to Fell the Mighty, since you don't need to have a target with the right power, and it can't be fizzled by removing said target. If you were playing Fell the Mighty, upgrade to this. If you are playing a go wide deck, that's too tokeny for Dusk//Dawn or it and the Battle of Bywater is missing a lot of key pieces in your meta at 2 power, give this one a try.

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Play this in every white deck you can fit it in. It is better than Generous Gift at lower powers where lands aren't doing quite as much by themselves, and slightly worse at higher power where lands are Like That. It doesn't really matter in this case, most white decks can probably find room to run both of them.

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The monarchy is great and fun. It is hard to hang on for an entire turn cycle, but in this case, you don't really care, both options here are pretty great. As Sun Titan proves again and again, getting back a permanent mana value 3 or less is quite valuable in white, especially when it doesn't specify nonland. Getting it to hand is less good, but it's a three drop, you'll be able to redeploy it if you really want. Card's great, play it if you find room for it in any deck, it doesn't really fit into most themes. (except you, monarchy decks, I see you.)

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What if you had several turns to do the fiend hunter/O-ring trick instead of one stack? If you can blink enchantments, this will just exile a creature every time, and every time you do, you guarantee the one before that will never come back. As mentioned, unlike other tricks like that, you have plenty of time to figure out how to blink (or sac) it. Also some flying and damage sometimes, but that's not why you're playing the card.

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This isn't a very good card by itself, but the unrestricted aspect of the second and third chapter can make it worth its weight. Really good with token copies of stuff and such... But the neatest trick is to make a token copy of Three Blind Mice itself. Further chapters can then copy the saga token copy of Three Blind Mice, and give you an ever-growing army of mice, sagas and anthems after a few turns. It is the slowest combo in the world... But it's fun! And it will force your opponents to react, and they need to kill all your enchantment (copies) to do so, which isn't the easiest.

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Did you know: Flash is a powerful ability. This design isn't much new, but Flash gives it an entirely new dimension. On top of being a removal option in a pinch that can stop people going off on the same turn they play their commander, the Fox can also exile your most valuable creature in the face of a board wipe to preserve it... And in the reverse, if the board is getting wiped and you have a couple mana, you can sac the Werefox to give back the creature it removed just in time for it to be caught in the board wipe, negating some of the downside of these kinds of effects (not all, that still takes two mana.) With that said, Banisher Priest isn't the best card in commander. It's more a domain of Skyclave Apparitions and occasionally Palace Jailers. Still, this will have homes.

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Generally I avoid cards that have written in bold on them in which decks to put them, but, uh, here's a couple of them. You don't need me to explain in which decks to put this, I hope.

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4 mana 4/4 vigilance that immediately draws a card then keeps doing so every turn, while making you a friend. Or spreading the Oxen around to minimize their impact. This is quite good on rate, as long as you have a wincon beyond "swinging with a couple small creatures repeatedly". Oxen block very well. You probably don't want to go too overboard blinking this card either, or you'll find out what a stampede is.

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We just had a mostly-better version in this effect in Brothers' War, Recommission. But it's still a good effect, and if you're more of an enchantment person than an artifact person, this is an efficient option.

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Reprints

The enchanting tales in white bring down the price of some pretty interesting enchantments.

Blind Obedience is mono-white as far as commander is concerned, and Extort still scales very well with multiplayer play.

Grasp of Fate is an actual good O-Ring for commander (a lot of those today). It's not for every deck, but hitting multiple things at once is quite powerful, and this reprint at uncommon after so long brought the price down to pennies, and should keep it low for quite a while.

Karmic Justice is a weirder card than it reads. Due to its specific wording, it doesn't work against most common forms of targeted removal. If you want something like that in white, look in the direction of Martyr's Bond. Karmic Justice does one thing and one thing only: Shield you from most mass artifact or enchantment removal. Nobody wants to Austere Command, Vandalblast or Ondu Inversion when a Karmic Justice is around. Karmic Justice can target lands. So if you're a deck that heavily relies on artifacts or enchantments in specific and are in white, you might be interested.

Rest in Peace is the gold standard in silver bullets. It does one thing, and it does it better than any other card. Any graveyard strategy or even incidental recursion will be completely shut off from the moment Rest in Peace touches the board and up until it leaves it. I personally find Rest in Peace to be a bit too feast or famine for my taste: either it stops one player from playing the game entirely for long spans of time because their deck rely on the graveyard, which isn't very fun, or it doesn't do much and is a waste of cardboard. I encourage you to play graveyard hate in your decks... Just maybe go with something a bit more versatile and soft than Rest in Peace. But hey, it's budget now!

These two are in the Role Aura precon, and they actually haven't fallen under our threshold yet. They're incredibly powerful pieces for the Aura strategy, but only for this one narrow strategy, and this is the first reprint for both. In over 15 years for Retether. Hopefully, their price goes down further than it already has because of this precon, once it hits the shelves in greater numbers.

#mtg #edh #commander #sleeper #long post #White #Wilds of Eldraine #Eldraine #budget #Enchanting Tales

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hiddenlittleoasis · 3 months

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Here's my first writing piece of this account! (Posted below)

Shoutout to @cysketch for creating this lovely piece that served as my inspiration💕

Early bird songs are carried away in the morning winds, but not fast enough to keep the whistling of the feathered choir from sharing their work with the ears of young Poca.

The rabbit boy stirs awake to start one of the last mornings left of summer, shivering as reminders of autumn gust through an open window and out another. Even knowing of the unlikely chance of getting a visitor today, he diligently gets up. He hurries to ready for the day: pulling on a sweater, descending the stairs, counting stock, and opening up the door to the little home shop.

Poca breathes in deeply as another chilled gust sweeps through his home, rattling the children's toys hanging on display. Like most things Poca has for sale, it’s only thanks to the winds that blow through the high-rise that a layer of dust hasn’t made its home on all the merchandise. Many times Cherrise, Poca’s neighbor downstairs, has told him how foolish a shop so hard to reach is. Many times Cedeir, the friendly delivery critter, has crawled to Poca’s door, gasping for breath through jokes equating the climb up Poca’s stairs to a hike up a mountain. Many times Poca has just smiled kindly, opening shop again the next day with the same vigor as the day before.

Today is no different.

Right on time, just as every day, a box rolls up the steps with a huffing and puffing Cedeir behind it. “Must you order so many boxes to the summit of your mountain Poca?”

And Poca politely smiles.

Not long after Cedeir has left there’s a rattling below Poca that pauses as a window is pulled open. “Are you still insisting on running that shop, silly rabbit boy?” Cherrise calls out.

But Poca just smiles.

Soon it is midday. Tiny mice hurry from their cozy homes, dug out of some of the many boxes in Poca’s shop. They greet Poca eagerly with many excited squeaks. Poca greets each back just as happily, not by name for they have none, but by giving each their favorite unique snack from his shop before setting down some of the aging snacks out in dishes for the friendly mice to feast.

The morning winged choir returns shortly after the mice have had their meal, singing to Poca with a familiar tune. He is no stranger to the daily performance that his feathered company puts on in hopes of earning their dinner for the day, and politely applauds as the show finishes before setting out more dishes of old shop snacks. The birds hurry to fill their beaks before taking off to hide on the roof. Poca’s gaze follows them until they disappear over the edge of the fading red tin, contently admiring the creatures much smaller than him.

A petal falls from a disturbed window box as fleeing wings stir the plant inside, drifting down towards Poca, gently settling between his ears as he turns his gaze to the soft clouds of cotton floating by. The color fading from the petals and browning in the leaves that Poca has so persistently cared for serves as another gentle reminder of the cooler season rapidly approaching. Meanwhile the colors changing on the clouds reflect the day slowly drawing closer to a close.

For a while more Poca keeps watching the sky around him from his favorite spot; in front of a display fridge with his own name printed on it, hiding memories of a paint-filled summer night. As Poca watches the fleeting moments of summer, cherishing the last few memories they’ll make with the critters this year, an evening autumnal wind sweeps past Poca’s high rise, rustling the tired plants and biting at Poca’s fluff through his sweater. The clouds hasten their drifting just slightly as the breeze urges them towards the horizon, to meet with the sun that is rapidly setting.

The sun escapes the sky much quicker than it once did, and the nip of the nighttime air ushers Poca back inside his little shop. He grabs a little broom to sweep, searching for some activity to serve as an excuse to keep the shop open just a little longer in case of any traveler in need stopping by.

A new voice, almost swept away in the winds, “E-Excuse me?”

Poca is quick to turn around, and his guest continues on hurriedly when they see they’ve gotten someone’s attention. “Do you have water? My family is traveling, uhm migrating, because of the cold weather and my grandmother is very old and thirsty and…” Poca smiles gently as they put bottles into a bag, letting the older bird child go on.

Before the bird child can finish their extensive plea Poca is already coming around the counter, kneeling down and offering the well packed bag. “O-oh thank you s-sir! How much do I need to give you? I have…” the bird child starts to ramble again, but Poca makes no requests, only insisting on giving them the bag.

Watching the eyes of the bird child widen as they finally understand Poca’s kind offer warms a deep place inside Poca’s chest, fighting back against the biting cold of the night. “T-thank you sir!! I…I’ll tell my family about you!! Goodbye!” The bird child grabs the bag and struggles to take off with the extra weight, but soon soars off into the distance until they blur with the dark of the sky.

Cherrise would ridicule him, telling Poca about how he can’t run a successful business by giving everything away.

Cedeir would question him, asking Poca where he gets all his packages from if he isn’t making a profit from his sales.

Poca wouldn’t mind though, he knows the warmth he feels inside from the grateful smiles pays for so much more than a few snacks and bottles of water.

Soon Poca shuts off the lights and closes up his doors, hurrying up to bed.

After all, tomorrow will be a busy day.

#writing #creative writing #short story #writing exercise #cozy reads

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himbowithapen · 6 months

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Monsterfucktober - Da 19, Medusa

They say she dwells in a cave; a cave where no man is welcome. For years, warriors have left to do battle with Medusa, but none have ever returned. The tales of conquest and men, soldiers specifically, died down. There was no more bragging about how they could not just defeat her, but even seduce the monster should they desire to. All promises to bring back Medusa’s head were broken, and no more were made.

You were exploring the wilderness; taking in the wonder of seemingly unexplored lands when you saw it. A statue, depicting a soldier about to draw his sword. The detail in his face was impeccable, as if touching it would feel just like human skin. You reach towards it, just to assure yourself: it’s solid stone, carved so perfectly that you can’t see the marks of tools. But what is it doing out amongst the undergrowth? Looking around, you see no signs of more, nor a dwelling where the sculptor may be living. With no clues to its origins, you walk on, keeping an eye out for more.

The more you wander, the more confused you become. There are no paths, no homes, nothing carved into the trees. It was as if the statue grew as naturally as the foliage. It was only when you started to believe you imagined it that you finally spied another; resting on its side, buried in the mud. Another soldier, this one furious. His eyes are focused, and his brow is furrowed. Maybe it’s because he snapped in half when he fell from an up-right position. You look around once more, only this time you see another just in the distance; yet another soldier, looking towards a cave underneath a hillside. The sculptor’s home? You head over, hoping for answers.

Trees and wild bushes block your way, and travelling the short distance takes longer than you expected. By the time you reach the cave mouth, thorns and vines have cut through your clothes. Your skin is exposed and aching. Ahead of you, the cave is dark, save for a spot in the back where you see it: a light. Not daylight peeking through from an exit, but warm, yellow light. A fire. You venture inside, eager to meet with the only other person living in the area, but as you pass through the darkness, things catch your eye. More statues: soldiers, mostly, but other things too. A screaming fox, a terrified rabbit, mice. All of them were littered in the dark like discarded and forgotten things. A legion of stone, with their own stone pets.

As you near the light, you hear something: a song, being hummed by a beautiful singer. Her voice is enchanting, and you stop walking towards her. Butterflies fill your stomach, and suddenly you feel nervous to intrude on her. She sounds so sweet and content, and suddenly you feel out of place amongst her art, trespassing in her home.

Deciding not to surprise her, you call out, trying hard not to compliment her voice or her art just yet. The singing stops, and you hear the clanging of tools being dropped, and the sound of footsteps approaching you.

“You dare enter my lair and announce yourself? What boldness.” She steps out into your vision; her face is obscured, but from her silhouette and voice you realise she is an aged woman. Her hair runs loose and free at all angles. Her tone is commanding and confident, in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

You apologise for interrupting her, then turn the matter to her beautiful statues. Without realising, you’ve gushed about the quality of the soldiers, and asked for her name.

“I am medusa, and you have outstayed your welcome.” The name rings a bell; old tales told around the fire, of a monster who turned her enemies to stone. Fear clouds your mind, and you feel your body shake. Medusa holds a torch up to her face, and the fear causes you to yelp before you even catch sight of her. When you do, your eyes are locked onto her. In fact, your entire body is frozen in place.

With your eyes fixed in place and unblinking, you get to finally look at her properly. Her dark green eyes are stern and deadly, and her face is slender, complete with the lines of maturity. Her hair, which is in fact a nest of grey snakes sprouting from her head, dances around as she moves towards you. She observes you; your ripped clothes, your frightened face. “You really were just here to greet me, weren’t you?” She caresses your cheek, and you realise how soft her hand feels against your rock-hard skin. “Poor thing.”

If you were breathing, you’d be panicking. But no air enters your lungs, and our chest doesn’t move. As afraid as you still feel, you realise your heart too has stopped. All you can do is stare at her, and try to calm down.

“You’re the first person to come without want to kill me. It’s been years since the last soldier arrived, but I never thought anyone would come wandering into these parts aside from killers.” Your vision shifts, and you realise she is moving you herself. “I am truly sorry. Please, allow me to take you out of the dark.”

After several minutes of pushing, and a few moments of lifting, Medusa places you in her torch-lit chamber. The light is a comfort, compared to the dark cavern, and the fire; it warms you. By now, you’ve managed to calm down a bit, and the understanding sets in: you’ve become a statue.

Maybe it isn’t so bad? In fact, now that you can look at Medusa freely, you can appreciate her beauty without the thought of disastrous consequences. She is sat down across from you, head in her hands, as if in crisis. Even the snakes on her head have lowered themselves into a depressed mop, dangling down around her neck. You feel the need to console her, but your stone limbs are fixed in place.

“I don’t even know if you can hear me. Usually, when something that looks at me becomes a statue, I presume them dead on the spot. But you… you weren’t a fox trying to raid my food, nor a warrior confident he can bed and behead me. For once, I want to believe you’re alive in there.” She looks up at you with tears welling in her eyes. “I never thought someone would come here without meaning me harm.”

She cries and mourns you, all the while you’re desperate to call out to her, to let her know you’re alright. Hours pass, and your heart breaks from the pity and the grief Medusa feels overwhelmed by. She talks about her life: her past, her curse, the endless number of adventurers seeking to claim her life, only to petrify the moment they see her. The more you learn, the less you associate the stories with the creature before you. It warms you that she feels so open to talk to you, and it dawns on you that she’s not spoken to a kind-hearted person in decades.

You lose track of time in your listening and observing. By nightfall, only a shred of recognising her as the ‘monster’ from the old tales remains. In front of you, you see a tragic, guilt-ridden survivor, bearing a terrible curse.

“I really must go to bed now. I don’t know whether to turn you away, or put something over your eyes…” She pauses, and you can see her blush. “I feel that I like knowing you’re here with me. Or, believing it. So I hope you won’t mind if I keep you as is tonight.” She draws near to you, and plants a kiss on your cheek. “I wish you a peaceful rest, I’m truly sorry.” And with that, she heads to her bed, undressing as she does so.

Medusa’s robe slips off and drops to the floor, and you feel your insides burn with yearning as you gaze at her body in the torch light. She looks stunning, in a way you have never witnessed before. You can’t quite decide what it is about her form, but there’s some quality that makes her look all the more beautiful to you.

She slips underneath some covers, and you feel sadness overwhelm you as a thin sheet covers her. More importantly, you aren’t with her under it.

The last of the fear you had for her dissipates as the light burns low. In all the time you’ve spent listening to her, you’ve found Medusa to be not monstrous at all. Even the snakes in her hair react with her mood, drooping when she gets sad, and slithering around excitedly when she talks about the things that she spends her free time doing. Putting aside that they grow out of her head, they’re quite cute.

That’s when you feel it. A tingling in your hand. And then your arm. You’re able to pull at your stone face, and wave your free hand in front of your eyes. Your other arm starts to follow suit, and then across your body, you feel your blood pumping and your heart coming back to life. But your face is still frozen and you can’t breathe. While you struggle for air, feeling returns to your waist, and then your legs. You collapse to the floor, and Medusa jumps out of her bed at the sound of your moving body.

“What? By the gods!” She runs across to you and feels your body. Her hands are warm and rugged, and you feel sensitive to her touch. The excitement brings your cheeks back to life, and your mouth: you’re breathing again. Finally, you feel your eyes turn to normal, and you blink frantically as you adjust once more to the feeling of life. “How did you break free?! It makes no sense. I was made into a monster!”

You smile, realising the trick answer to Medusa’s curse. Looking at her now, you see no trace of a monster; the fear you felt when you first froze is gone, and in its place you feel nothing but admiration for the cursed woman. But something else tugs at you; a desire for her, and an intimate one at that. She looks you in the eyes, and you return her gaze free to move as you like. You pull her close, wrapping your arms around her body, an embrace her. Almost instinctively, she returns your affection, and you feel a soft kiss on your neck.

“You broke the curse. Not one statue has managed that before. You have no idea how happy I am.” You feel her sobbing again against you, and hold her tight as you return her kiss with one of your own. Something stirs in you, and you feel Medusa feels the same, but now isn’t the time for that. Now you’re consoling each other, and loving every moment of it.

#monsterfucktober 2023 #monsterfucktober #human x monster #medusa #greek mythology #romance

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