#and I never got a nisse :’(
Description: In the aftermath of the Black Hound incident, Hilda tries to find her new friend a place to stay. But the citizens of Trolberg seem unwilling to trust their former house spirits... Or Hilda’s word about what really happened. Takes place between the main action of The Black Hound and the epilogue.
Here’s the first part of the new fic I’ve been working on!
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pairing: georgenotfound x reader
pronouns: gender neutral
description: george is left to babysit your niece
warnings: mentions of a future family? just in case that makes you uncomfortable.
[y/n/n] - your nieces name
[y/s/n] - your siblings name (gender neutral too)
note: i’m not too sure about this imagine, please a like or reply if you actually enjoyed! - niss
you woke up to the sound of your alarm blasting your ear off, if you hadn’t turned it off right there you probably would have gone deaf.
george was sleeping like a baby beside you, you could hear his quiet snores. you were surprised he didn’t wake up to the sound of your ear-piercing alarm.
turning on your phone, you glanced at the time that read 12:30. you sighed in annoyance as you registered that you only had half an hour before you had to be on your way to university. so you got up and began your normal morning routine, brush your teeth, shower, have breakfast and finally get dressed. however, as you were packing your bag, almost ready to go, you received a notification from your [sibling]
[y/s/n]: we’re 5 minutes away!!!
[y/s/n]: thank you so much for agreeing to do this :)
it completely slipped your mind. you had promised to take care of [y/n/n] for today, your 7 year old niece, while your [sibling] was at their job interview. regardless, you texted them a quick ‘no problem’ before rushing upstairs to wake up george.
he was still sleeping, but now he was completely hiding under the covers with one arm sticking out. you hated to interrupt his beauty sleep but this was more important. you began to shake him awake.
“babe,” you shook him
“george,” you removed the covers off his face
“wake the fuck up!” you started poking his sides. usually, you would be a little less... harsh, but you were panicking.
finally the boy rose from his slumber, groaning and stretching all his limbs. he blinked a couple times before meeting your eyes
“good morning,” he said softly, as if he completely just disregarded your tone of desperation and worry.
you pulled him by his arm and he sat upright,
“you need to get up right now,” you told him
“what’s going on?” he questioned, clearly confused as you weren’t giving him any context
“you need to take care of [y/n/n] for today, i have classes today, and i need to leave in 5 minutes and [y/s/n] has a job interview and there’s nobody else to take care of her,” you rushed out all in once sentence.
“are you serious?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “you know how bad i am with kids, especially [y/n/n] , she hates me,”
that was partly true. unfortunately, your niece wasn’t exactly fond of george. ever since you even started dating,m, [y/n/n] acted cold towards your boyfriend, it only got worse when you moved in with him. she always refused to play a game if george was going to participate, or never accepted any high fives or hellos from him. you felt sympathy for george. this child despised him and now you were asking him to look after her.
“please, i’m begging you,” you looked at him with pleading eyes. his eyes softened up after recognising the urgency of the situation.
“fine,” he agreed. you sighed out of satisfaction that you didn’t have to stress out [y/s/n] over finding a new baby sitter.
“thank you so much,” you pressed a small kiss to his lips appreciatively.
right at that moment, you two heard the doorbell ring. you urged george to get ready as fast as he could while you went down stairs and greeted your [sibling] and your niece.
“auntie/uncle [y/n]!” [y/n/n] yelled as you opened the door, immediately rushing into your arms. she looked a lot taller than the last time you saw her
“how’s my favourite girl?” you picked her up and swung her, before placing a little kiss on her head
you gave your [sibling] a quick hug. they handed you a bag full of toys, teddies and colouring pens, along with a spare set of clothing just in case [y/n/n] got a little messy throughout the day. and some quick reminders about her favourite foods or how to get her stop crying. you’d looked after her before, so all of it was pretty familiar to you
“again, thank you so, so much, you have no idea how much you’re helping me.” they told you. your [sibling] gave [y/n/n] a kiss on the cheek and told her to be a ‘good and kind little girl’ before finally exiting the household.
george, at last, made his way down. wearing a decent pair of jeans and a hoodie, giving an awkward wave to [y/n/n]
you checked the time and knew you had to get going. you had to explain to her that uncle george was going to be the one looking after her today. and after one whole tantrum, you managed to convince her to be a good girl by promising to give her a big reward afterward.
finally, you kissed [y/n/n] and george a goodbye , then shut the front door behind you.
george and [y/n/n] stood opposite each other. there was an uncomfortable silence in the air. george felt so...he didn’t even know. what do you say to a child who hates you? [y/n/n] tightly clutched her bag of toys.
“so, [y/n/n],” george cleared his throat, he bent down to her level. “i hear you like toy story?”
[y/n/n] pouted “i don’t like you” she said, and stomped away.
george sighed. this was going to be a long day.
and it was.
it started off with [y/n/n] innocently using her colouring pens and drawing random things, you know, as children do. but when she ran out of paper, she made her way to your office, where all your uni work was. she grabbed the closest piece of paper that was sitting on your desk, deciding it was going to be the next canvas for her art. this paper just happened to be a very important assignment.
when george caught her in the act, he had to physically tear her away from your office, in defiance of all her kicking and screaming.
then, when george accidently left the door to your shared bedroom open. [y/n/n] waddled in without him noticing, she started playing with all of his devices. his computer, his microphone, and somehow she got a hold of his headphones, and took out the battery. george didn’t realise until he noticed the cover missing. he tried to ask her nicely where she threw the battery. but she insisted that she wasn’t going to give it back unless he stopped being ‘mean’
when lunch time rolled around, george put a pizza in the oven, he remembered clearly that [y/n/n] loved pizza, specifically pepperoni. nothing could go wrong here.
but when he called her to the kitchen so she could receive her lunch. she just stared blankly at the pizza, and then at him. she crossed her arms
“[y/n] usually makes a smiley face with the pepperoni”
george just felt all his will to live just disappear
coloured pens and toys were spread out all across the living room floor, [y/n/n] was sitting in front of the tv, george put on one of her favourite shows which thankfully distracted her for a bit, allowing him to relax. he pulled out his phone and texted you
to [y/n] <3 : help me please
to [y/n] <3: i cant take this anymore, i’m literally dying rn
to [y/n] <3: come home quick
he exhaled heavily, throwing his phone to the side. he was so exhausted.
[y/n/n] was roleplaying with her toys, making them move around and doing squeaky little voices. george smiled at the innocence
“purple bear doesn’t play with us anymore. princess giraffe, mr. george took her away from us,” she spoke in a high pitched voice
george’s ears perked up. how funny that she had a teddy named ‘mr. george’. curiously, he watched the little girl.
“koala george, is a meanie, he stole purple bear and now they don’t want to hang out with us!”
it didn’t take a genius to find out what [y/n/n] was displaying through her role playing teddies.
that was why she didn’t like george. before they got together, [y/n] mentioned they almost spent every weekend with [y/n/n], playing with her and having fun with her.
she felt abandoned by [y/n] and felt as if george had taken them away from her .
george felt at fault as he noticed the girls eyes started to water.
“does purple bear love us any more?” she continued to play.
george decided it was enough and he switched off the television. he joined [y/n/n] on the floor and grabbed the teddy that was supposedly ‘koala george’
“[y/n/n]” he spoke softly. the little girl looked up at him expectantly. he held up the teddy.
“is this supposed to be me?” he questioned her.
“that’s a koala bear,” she answered
“no-, [y/n/n],” he said. he thought about how to ask her, and just chose it was best to be flat out with the child,”
“did i steal auntie/uncle [y/n] away from you?”
the question took her by surprise. she gazed at him with big wide eyes. she thought about her answer and grabbed the purple bear, which was supposed to be you.
“they don’t play with me as much anymore, they’re always with you, because of you, they don’t love me anymore,” she pulled a face, it wasn’t angry, it wasn’t annoyed.
it was a genuinely sad face.
george was sure he physically felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. he never even comprehended the fact that a child could feel so rejected.
“listen... [y/n/n],” he said gently. he thought about his words. comforting someone wasn’t exactly his strongest point, particularly not a child who detested him “[y/n] will never stop loving you, okay? they love you very much, and i’m sorry you feel like i stole them ”
[y/n/n] continued to listen.
“but don’t forget that [y/n] has so much love to go around! look, they love you, and they love me, they love grandma and grandpa too! they will always love one another even if they can’t see each other often,”
[y/n/n] stayed silent. she fiddled with the purple teddy, folding its ears and patting its head. she loved that bear. it was actually gifted to her by you, when she was first born. she brought it to her chest and hugged it. george tried a different approach.
“listen, how about- this weekend, we can all go to the park together, and have a picnic. you, me, [y/n], and your parents too,”
she continued to just stay silent. george didn’t know what to expect, she was unpredictable, was she going to throw another hissy fit? or start to cry? he wasn’t sure
“can we also get ice cream?” she asked
george smiled and felt himself relax. thank god. “all the ice cream you want,” he told her
[y/n/n] stood up and giggled. like her whole entire mood did a whole fucking 180. “okay! let’s go play dress up now!”
7:45 pm. you finally arrived home. you were tired out of your mind. [y/s/n]’s interview was delayed by two hours and was currently half way back home, meaning you had enough time to spend with [y/n/n]
you unlocked the door, expecting to see a giant tsunami of toys and colouring pencils and pens, but what you saw was the most heart warming thing ever.
george was sleeping on the couch, his head resting on the armrest. he had a couple pink bows in his hair, his lips were painted a hot pink, he was wearing a couple sparky bracelets and a purple floral necklace.
in his lap, [y/n/n] rested her head, she was wearing a fairy costume with matching pink bows and sparkly bracelets.
you quickly snapped a photo of this wholesome moment. because, who wouldn’t? you spent a few minutes just watching the two sleep, they were probably just as tired as you.
moments like these made you really appreciate the people you had in your life. the people you love so dearly much.
you didn’t want to disrupt the ambience but you felt it was better for your [sibling] to collect your niece when she wasn’t covered in glitter and an overload of pink accessories.
you quietly woke george up,
“baby, wake up.” you shook him awake, gently. in a very different way than you did this morning. he opened his eyes. and immediately smiled upon seeing your face. you ran your thumb across his cheek
“it looks like you two had a lot of fun,” you teased.
he quietly chuckled. “she’s okay,” he told you. looking down at the little girl sleeping in his lap.
you slowly and carefully picked her up, removing any accessories you thought may seem uncomfortable to sleep in. she was a heavy sleeper.
you carried her upstairs, tucking her into you and george’s bed and placing a kiss upon her forehead. you turned back to george and rushed in for a bear hug
“thank you so much for doing that,” you said. “i love you so much, i know it probably wasn’t easy, she can be quite the handful,”
george chuckled. “handful is an understatement,”
“you’d better be willing to dress up like that with our own kids one day.” you stated, hugging him tighter.
his face broke out into a small smile, having thought of an image of you two playing with you future kids. he kissed top of your head and then your nose
“maybe one day”
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Favorite Danish folklore I grew up with
Lygtemænd (the lantern men): Like will-o’-the-wisp, jack o’lantern and similar... Nobody really knows who or what they are. They are small creatures with lights (probably lanterns) that are moving around in marshes and swampy fields at night. Never follow them. If you follow them, you’ll never be seen again. They will probably lead you further out into the marshes where you drown. Don’t even look at them, because you may get the urge to follow the light. If you’re lost, you can however pay them (by leaving money at the roadside) to lead you back home - if you’re brave enough.
Åmanden (the river man): He lives in the rivers and lakes, and prevents overflow and floods, but needs an annual human sacrifice (aka drowned people) in return. He looks like a very beautiful young man, but has sharp teeth. If he hasn’t got his sacrifice, he will lure people into the river. He can sound like a crying baby, to make you go search for an abandoned baby at the shores, or he plays the violin so beautifully that you will follow the sound into the water, where he will drown you. Never go near a river at night or dawn!
Helhesten (the hell horse): So the first soul buried on a new grave yard will resurrect and haunt the grave yard. Because of this, the first soul buried was often not a person but a living animal, most often a horse. This hellhorse has three legs, sometimes it’s beheaded, and it brings people illness and death. When you see it, you will die. If you hear a horse neigh or stomp on a grave yard, don’t look up! Never! Never go to a graveyard at night.
De underjordiske from Bornholm (the underground ones): basically small trolls. They live on the island Bornholm in mounds, hills, cliffs or big rocks. They are small creatures, very smart and have an almost human-like farmer lifestyle. They are usually friendly and peaceful, but may be troublesome, if you dig in their mound or e.g. let your animals walk around on their home. They can also kidnap, or switch your baby out with one of their people and make him look like the baby. The new baby will become more and more ugly, stop growing, never learn to speak and eat A LOT. The only way to expose it, is to tell it something so stupid and ridiculous that it gets flabbergasted. If you visit the island ask a local - almost everyone knows somebody that met the underjordiske or had an encounter themselves.
Nisser: kind of small household gods. They are little dwarf-like creatures that live hidden in your house, typically on the loft or in the stables, if you have a farm. Usually they are helpful and some sort of nice warden, but if you treat them bad, they may trouble you. You should leave a bowl of rice pudding for them on the loft, especially at Christmas. Some may also be humorous and hide your stuff, so you think you replaced it, then they are called Drillenisse (mocking nisse).
Elverfolket (elves): They live in forests, glades and mounds and are known for their beauty and their feasts. The very beautiful elver women will typically dance around their mound looking outwards in misty nights, so you can see their beauty, but in their backs they are hollow like an old tree trunk. If you join their dance and feast, they will never let you go. Stay away from them and from their mounds and they will be peaceful. Their king is very powerful, but if you’re respectful and keep the elverfolks homes safe, he may in return bless your land.
Mosekonen (the marsh witch): She is an troll-like woman who lives in a hidden cabin in the marshes. She is known for brewing something in a big kettle, but nobody really knows what. Probably a special brew for their party’s (e.g. for Walpurgis Night). You will know that she is brewing, when there is fog and mist over the marshes. She gets help from the Lygtemænd with her fire, so you shouldn’t go out there to find her, as you may drown.
Havfolk/ nøkker (sea people): Human like creatures (like mermaids) that live in the sea and might have fish-like features like a fish tail. The women are very beautiful, sing very lovely, and may lure men into the water and (not necessarily willful) drown them as they take them into their underwater home. The havfolk may come out of the water and look human, but they will always be wet. The men can transform into a big black or white horse that comes out of the sea at night and rushes along the beach. They may lure you to climb and ride, but will then ride directly into the sea and drown you. Stay away from the sea at night to be safe, and if you hear someone singing at the sea, quickly cover your ears with your hands!
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i don't have any preffered ccs, everyone is so lovely, thank you so much taki🥺💓
okoko !! i'll make a list of ultimate favourite fics then!! >:]
cold nights [george] by @dysfunctionalcrab
comfort fic alert, every time i feel myself drifting away from simping for George i read this and niss writing makes brain go: no <3 go watch edits of him & cry about his prettiness rn 😚 its so adorable and it makes my heart squeeze :,)
soft touches [karl] by @scare-crowed this is specifically karl comforting the reader so its fitting hehe and its also just,,, amazing and i love it so much :,) it will definitely put a smile on your face!! also you look pretty in yellow which is a quackity fic is also sooo good!!)
bachelor...? [technoblade] by @dreamwvrld
this is just, kay simply knows how to write a man slowly falling in love with you that makes you really feel so incredibly loved i cant describe it. everything about this is so beautiful and i cant tell you how much comfort it brings me :,) also being friends with techno's enemy is just chef's kiss and will have you laughing out loud at how accurately it describes his and squid kid's frenemies relationship
confessions [dream] by @jschllatt I will be dying now :,) there is srsly no way for me to describe how incredibly happy nat's writing makes me and this is one of those times. i always read her fics when im down and they never disappoint.
stubborn [foolish] by @yamturds foolish my beloved :,) there is not enough foolish content out there but the fact we got blessed by yams with some is making up for it definitely and reading about taking care of him is such a comforting feeling i cant express how much i love this <3
come back to bed, please [wilbur] by @basilly i usually don't watch that much wilbur but reading the way basil wrote him made me start watching him more >w< srsly probably 70% of wilbur videos i watched were bc of basil, her writing makes you just feel warm and happy and fuzzy inside <3 everything you want when in need of comfort!
secret admirer [quackity] by @inniterhq the way art writes quackity makes me feel some type of way no lie and generally this fic makes you feel so ??? wanted :,) i love it so much really its amazing <3
i hope this helps! i have a lot more but im scared tumblr will delete my answer again!! so if you need more just tell me!
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If you got the chance to read the first chapter of my Hilda fancomic "Abby", who did you like the most or resonate with?
And of course, we can't forget "Fluffy" the Nisse who is very bad at being a Nisse
Haha I would love it if Luke Pearson ever came across this fancomic haha it'll probably never happen but a girl can dream right 🥲
Anyway, chapter 2 is currently under development, so stay tuned~ 👻⚓️
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boyfriend!tom holland x drunk!reader
summary: tom making sure you are okay after a night out.
word count: 681
warning: fluff, alcohol consumption, language.
a/n: this blurb represents me on a night out, minus the boyfriend.... just the blackout part really :) enjoy x
One drink had turned into twelve. It would be an understatement to say you drunk. It was just a typical college Thursday night out. Your friends had decided to go out, and you said you’d joking them ‘for a few’. That hadn’t turned out so well.
You had completely blacked out. You had no control over yourself or your emotions. You waited at the bar to order another drink knowing the bartender was about to deny you, but I mean no harm in trying.
Your mind had pondered as you waited for service. In your drunken state, you realized how much you missed your boyfriend Tom. Pouting, you grabbed your phone from your handbag immediately opening iMessage. Sending a barely readable text.
Y/N: Tosmamy I niss youe!’
Y/N: whhered yiuz
You sent the text, waited a few moments, before you huffed as Tom didn’t reply immediately. You felt like you wanted to cry.
Why wouldn’t he text back? Did he hate me? Am I too clingy?
Your thoughts were interrupted by your phone buzzing. Immediately, you grabbed your phone, not really able to make out the name.
“Hello- helloo?” You slurred into the phone, the music too loud to hear anything coming from the other side.
You ran outside to the front of the pub. The fresh air hitting you hard. “Hellooo?” You repeated.
“Y/N are you okay? Where are you? Darling?” Tom replied, his voice laced with worry.
“Tommy? Babbbyyy. I misss you.” You whined.
“Okay okay sweetheart, tell me where you are and I’ll pick you up.”
Tom finally found out where you were, after a dodgy description which ended up in you giving the phone to the bouncer outside the pub to tell him the location.
Tom hurried to the pub, not wanting you to be alone in that state for too long. He pulled up to the pub parking the car before hopping out to help you to the vehicle.
“Alright sweetie now buckle up.” He encouraged turning the keys in the ignition.
“No. I can’t.” You huffed crossing your arms like you were a five year old. Tom chuckled before buckling you up and starting the journey back to his.
Once you arrived you rushed to the bathroom, needing to pee, nearly injuring yourself as you ran up the stairs. Tom meanwhile grabbed a few things for you. A few bottles of water, some Panadol and his sweats. Also a small basin just in case.
You exited the bathroom to the sight of your boyfriend laying on the bed like a starfish. You smiled skipping over to Tom. You laid down between his legs your head on his chest cuddling into him.
He rubbed your back. Comforting you. “Hey darling, why don’t you get ready for bed?”
You groaned, knowing he was right but not wanting to get up. But somehow you got up. You started to sober up, slightly, as you drank the water.
You grabbed his sweats and headed into the bathroom one more time. You quickly washed your face, brushed your teeth and got changed
You skipped over to your boyfriend, giggling the whole time. But your mood suddenly changed. A wave of guilt panned over you.
“Tom I’m so sorry.” You whined.
“Darling don’t be sorry–“ “No, no. I ruined your night I’m such a shitty girlfriend.” You sniffled.
Tom chuckled. “You are such an emotional drunk. Baby I am your boyfriend. I love you so so much. I don’t care. You could never ruined my night. I wanna take care of the most amazing girl I know, always and forever. If anything, I’m happy I get to wake up with you by my side. I could never complain.”
You tried to conceal a smile by scrunching your face. He was the sweetest.
“I love you too Tom. I’ll never know what I did to deserve you.”
You grabbed his face giving him a passionate kiss. His hands engulfing your body as you melted into his warm touch.
“Okay. Okay.” He said in between kisses. “You need sleep. Because we both know tomorrow Is gonna be rough.” He laughed causing you to let out a frustrated groan.
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Marie Louise on the road (9)
We last left the imperial travel group on Tuesday, May 8, in a charming gondola on the Scheldt, with Napoleon, Bessières and Eugène somewhat green-faced after having had breakfast on board. Marie Louise continues:
This determined them to disembark at 10 o'clock on the island of Zuid-Beveland, without knowing whether there would be any carriages to take us to the opposite shore.
The Duke of Istria [Bessières], after much searching, finally found two or three peasants' vehicles which were neither carts nor carriages, and which were harnessed to two horses, and were so high that a ladder would have been needed to climb them, and so narrow that two people could hardly fit in them. They had no springs, and were very hard, and to make matters worse, they had many small and inconvenient inhabitants.
Of course. We did already have mud, rain, people falling into ditches and having all sorts of digestive accidents … but lice and fleas were still missing.
The Duke of Istria got on horseback to act as our courier in order to prepare boats for us on the other side of the island. [...]
Riiight. Nice excuse, Bessie! Admit it, you just wanted to get away from that bunch of weirdos and their vermin-infested vehicles.
Bessières (mounting his horse): Phew! Never been so happy to be a cavalryman.
Eugène: Pssst. Any chance you need the help of an old friend and former subordinate for this? Got another horse?
B.: Sorry, chap, you're a prince now. Get onto that thing and try not to catch any fleas.
E.: I hate my life.
The carriage in which the Duchess of Montebello, the Countess of Liverstein and the Viceroy were sitting overturned and broke into a thousand pieces. The latter landed on his feet. The Duchess got away with a tumble, but the Countess of Liverstein was dragged by the horses and hurt her elbow badly.
Another missed chance to kill off the duchess, I guess.😁
In a small town named Nisse, the whole party can get into better carriages in order to continue their journey.
[...] After passing through the town of Zeebourg, which is quite pretty, we arrived at the other end of the island, at Hoop Fort. There we embarked in a passenger boat and sailed down the Scheldt again.
We saw many porpoises. This is a very peculiar fish. It has the head of a pig and its body is round. It rolls on its back on the surface of the water and moves a great deal in this way in a very short time.
Your guess is as good as mine as to what they really saw. Vial thinks it may have been seals. But Marie Louise’s excitement about the sea – completely new to her – is often palpable in her diary.
We disembarked at 4 o'clock at the Rammekens fort, where the most beautiful carriages of the city of Middelbourg were waiting for us. I am not exaggerating when I say that they must have been built at least 150 years ago.
We were so hungry that we ate two large army provision loaves that soldiers brought us.
Well, at least their stomaches were okay again, it seems.
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Summary: Despite their breakup, Katniss still isn’t over her ex-boyfriend Gale. Her best friend Madge is determined to help her move on and knows just the perfect guy for her: Enter Peeta Mellark. The only problem is—he’s in love with Madge.
Except...maybe that’s not such a problem, after all.
Written for @promptsinpanem.
Put your phone away
And actually TALK to this guy!!!
The scolding texts came in quick succession, making her phone vibrate in her hand. Katniss looked up to shoot the sender an exasperated look. Madge, who was on the other side of the living room, returned it with one of her own, then pointed discreetly toward said guy.
To his credit, said guy—Thom, was it? He’d told her at some point, but Katniss had already forgotten—hadn’t seemed to notice her inattention as he blabbered on about his recent endeavors into leathercraft, or whatever pretentious term he’d given it. Madge had dragged her to this house party for this express purpose: to meet a new guy. Admittedly, Katniss had been optimistic at the start of the night, even though she’d been reluctant to leave her couch and the new Netflix show she’d been eager to binge.
That optimism had died a quick death, however, the moment Thom (or whatever his name was) had opened his mouth. Somewhere around the point when he’d started in on something called skiving blades was when she’d whipped out her phone to entertain herself.
Except now she wasn’t so much entertaining herself as she was stalking her ex on Instagram, scrolling through his recent posts and obsessing over each new picture of his smiling face—and the pretty redhead with him. Apparently, Gale had a new girlfriend: username lollilavinia, whoever the hell she was. She was tagged in the latest photo and had even commented with a simple yet nauseating “❤.”
He certainly moves fast, Katniss thought with some bitterness (and more hurt than she cared to admit). It’d only been two months since their breakup, for fuck’s sake. She was still only in the “eating ice cream directly out of the container while seriously contemplating becoming a cat lady” phase—and she didn’t even like cats!
The next text came in just as Katniss’ thumb twitched over lollilavinia’s username: I swear to god if you’re looking at Gale’s insta AGAIN I am going to come over there and confiscate your phone and flush it down the toilet!
Blushing at having been found out, Katniss tapped out a curt reply: FINE. Then, after hitting send, she looked up and glared at Madge as she made a show of shoving her phone into her back pocket. Satisfied, Madge smiled in approval then quickly turned her attention back to her own catch of the night—a cute guy with blue eyes and copper-colored hair who dimpled every time she laughed at one of his probably lame jokes.
“What do you think?”
Thom-or-Whatever had just asked her a question, the first time he’d bothered in over ten minutes. Katniss turned to look at him. “What?” she asked dumbly.
He pointed to his leather belt, lifting his shirt up so she could get a good look at it. “This was the first belt I made. Pretty cool, huh?” He looked way too proud about a simple strip of leather buckled around his narrow hips.
“So cool,” she deadpanned.
Missing her sarcasm, Thom smiled. “I can teach you how to do it, if you ever want to learn,” he offered slyly. “You see, the secret is in how you tan the leather—”
As he launched into yet another lecture on leather tanning, Katniss sighed wearily. She never should have left her couch.
Madge was shitfaced. Katniss could tell because her friend’s voice was three pitches higher and she was being super affectionate, which always happened when she was drunk (even more so than when she was sober).
Which was how Katniss knew she was drunk—the touchy-feely stuff wasn’t bothering her.
“You’re just so pretty,” Madge gushed, petting Katniss’ hair as they lay on her bed. After the disastrous house party, they’d taken an Uber back to Katniss’ apartment. “So much prettier than whasserface.”
Katniss closed her eyes to stop the room from spinning around her. “But she has red hair.”
“So?” Madge demanded, practically yelling it. She had a problem with voice modulation when she was drunk, too.
“It’s—I don’t know, glamorous or something. Mine is so plain.” She pouted. “Just long and black and—and boring.”
“Katnish—niss. Listen. Listen.” Madge rolled onto her stomach to grab Katniss’ face, squishing her cheeks between her hands. “You’re not boring. You’re like, like...a fierce warrior princess. Like an Amazon riding into battle on horseback!”
Katniss snort-giggled (an annoying thing she did when she was drunk). “That doesn’t even make sense,” she said, but because her lips were puckered like a fish’s, it came out sounding like she had marbles in her mouth.
Madge let go of her face, flopping onto her back as Katniss rubbed at her sore cheeks. “Ugh. You don’t know. You don’t even know. Men would be crawling all over you if you only gave them the time of day.” She struggled into a sitting position. “Anyway, fuck her. And fuck Gale! You don’t need him! You’re better than him! You just need to find someone else already, and you’ll realize it.”
Katniss groaned. “I’ve tried, but everyone else sucks.” Much to Madge’s eternal annoyance, Katniss had sworn off online dating after her fifth unsolicited dick pic on Tinder (and within only two days of creating her profile!).
“No, they don’t. You’re just too hung up on Gale, and you think everyone pales in comparison. You broke up with him for a reason, remember?”
Closing her eyes again, Katniss sighed. The room was spinning, and she was just so tired. All she wanted was to burrow under her covers and sleep forever. “I thought I did. I don’t know anymore. Maybe I was too hasty,” she bemoaned. She and Gale had dated for four years. They’d met in college, and even then things had never been particularly easy between them. They were too much alike, both too stubborn and too set in their ways, which meant they had butted heads over the dumbest things. By the end, Katniss was just tired of always arguing with him.
“I just...I didn’t think he’d already be dating someone so soon after we broke up! It hasn’t even been that long! Shouldn’t it take longer to move on?”
“She’s a rebound, that’s all,” Madge said with a dismissive flap of her hand. “Which is what you need. You need to hook up with someone else, have some fun! I promise you, you’ll realize there’s better dick out there and forget all about Gale in no time.”
With a groan, Katniss was about to counter her friend’s pep talk when Madge gasped suddenly, latching onto her arm. “Oh my god. I have the perfect guy.”
“You said that about Cato, too,” Katniss said, reminding her of the last terrible date her friend had set her up on. She’d take a thousand more dick pics over him, which was saying something.
Madge made an exasperated sound. “Are you going to hold that against me forever?”
“Only as long as it takes me to forget how he told me women shouldn’t be allowed to vote,” she deadpanned.
At least, Madge had the decency to look chagrined. “OK, I was wrong about him, but I’m not wrong about this guy—believe me. Peeta is perfect.” She began to cackle maniacally. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of him sooner!”
Peeta? Katniss wasn’t sure she’d ever heard her friend even talk about him before, but she had a lot of “guy friends,” so it was hard to keep track. “If he’s so perfect, then why aren’t you dating him?”
“No way!” Madge giggled, blushing prettily. “Well, OK, I’ll be honest with you—we might have fooled around, like, once. Once!” At Katniss’ sound of protest, Madge hurriedly talked over her, “Years ago. We were drunk at a party. It wasn’t a big deal, I swear! He’s just a friend. He’s gorgeous, but, I don’t know, he’s just not my type. But I think he could definitely be your type. At least for the time being. You two would have so much fun together, I just know it.”
“I don’t know,” Katniss hedged. She didn’t really trust Madge’s taste in men; Cato might have been an outlier, but all her guy friends were typically too dudebro for Katniss, anyway.
“Just come meet him, so you can at least scope him out. If you’re really not into him, we can forget it. He invited me to his soccer game tomorrow. We can go together.”
Katniss squawked in objection. “He’s an athlete? No, no way, this is definitely not going to work.”
“He just plays for fun! He’s on a rec league. Well, I guess he was technically an athlete in college,” Madge clarified, and Katniss closed one eye to shoot her a glare with the other, mostly because she was starting to see two of her. “What’s your beef with athletes, anyway?”
“Ugh, I don’t know.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’re usually just so full of themselves. Or that’s all they want to talk about, and I just couldn’t care less.”
“Peeta’s not like that! Plus, at least you know that means he’s got a nice body.” Madge waggled her eyebrows. “And he does, trust me.”
“I don’t care about that.” Not much, anyway.
“But Gale will,” Madge explained as if she were talking to a five-year-old. “And if you were to start sharing pics of you and Peeta together on your Insta…”
When Madge trailed off, Katniss rolled her eyes. “You’re getting ahead of yourself.” But, honestly, it wasn’t a bad point...She heaved a resigned sigh. “Fine. I’ll come with you to the game. But the second he starts blabbering to me about his workout routine or something, I’m out.”
With a squeal, Madge grabbed her arm again and shook her excitedly. “You’re going to love him, I just know it!”
Katniss refrained from snorting out loud. Once again, she did not share her friend’s optimism.
Katniss hadn’t even met this Peeta yet and already she didn’t like him.
It was ten a.m. on a Saturday, and she was hungover as hell. Her head was pounding, her eyes were dry, and her stomach was roiling slightly. Who the hell got up this damn early on a weekend to voluntarily play soccer? There was no way she was going to get along with someone like that.
But Madge, somehow chipper to an obnoxious degree even at this obscene hour—and despite drinking more than Katniss, she was certain of it, as she’d watched her do tequila shots with her new redheaded friend at the party—had refused to let Katniss back out of their agreement. At nine, Katniss had been forced out of bed and into “something cute” (which was just skinny jeans and a hoodie because on principle Katniss didn’t dress to impress anyone), then she and Madge had made a quick pit stop at the local café for to-go coffees.
Thankfully, by the time Madge pulled up to the soccer park, the game was just ending. As if she could sense her reluctance, Madge held onto Katniss’ arm as they stalked across the field to where a group of men and women still congregated.
When they were within shouting distance, Madge dropped Katniss’ arm and lifted her hand in the air. “Peeta!” she called, waving like a lunatic. Katniss wanted to pull her hoodie over her head and suffocate herself when every single one of their heads swiveled in their direction. A moment later, one of the players broke away from the others and began jogging toward them.
“Madge!” he called back, a huge grin breaking across his face. Katniss blinked. So this was Peeta. Even yards away, she could tell he was stupidly attractive—and he was shirtless, his sweaty, perfectly chiseled torso bare to the world.
With a squeal, Madge ran to meet him. She jumped into his arms, and he caught her easily, spinning her around in a hug. Katniss could only gawk at them. True, Madge was friendly with everyone—but this seemed a bit much, even for her.
“You made it!” he said once he set her back down on the ground, still grinning. Wow. He had perfect teeth and dimples, too.
Madge pouted, jutting out her bottom lip. “Sorry I missed the game. Had a late night last night. Waking up this morning was rough,” she explained, a bit sheepishly, but he shrugged.
“No worries. There will be other games.”
“I’ll watch you actually play one of these days, I promise!” Grabbing his arm, she spun back to Katniss and pulled him toward her. “Come on, I want you to meet my friend. Peeta, this is Katniss. Katniss, Peeta.”
When he looked at her, Katniss blushed. He had the kind of ridiculously blue eyes heroines always swooned over in the romance novels she would never admit to reading. “Hey, nice to meet you,” he said with a smile, shaking her hand in a firm, warm grasp. Then he made a face, quickly releasing her hand to rub his hand on his shorts. “Sorry, forgot how sweaty I am,” he laughed.
Truthfully, she hadn’t even noticed. “It’s OK,” was all she said, sticking her hands in the pocket of her hoodie because she didn’t know what else to do with them. It was hard keeping her eyes on his face, as pretty as it was, when he was still breathing kind of hard from his exertion, his clearly defined ab muscles flexing with each inhale.
Sensing a lull in the conversation, Madge jumped in. “Katniss and I work together.”
“Oh? Are you a sales rep, too?” Peeta asked her directly, and Katniss shook her head.
“God, no. I’m not a people person,” she said and regretted it immediately. But he only smiled. “I’m a designer. I do all my work at the computer.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That sounds cool.”
Realizing she should probably ask him something, she turned the question on him. “What about you?”
“Well, I kind of design things, I guess. But not really.” He laughed again. “I’m a baker. My family owns Mellark’s Bakery downtown.”
“Seriously?” she blurted out. He was a baker, and he looked like that?
Her outburst seemed to surprise him, and she flushed. Luckily, Madge intervened. “Oh my god, he’s amazing, Katniss. He makes the best cheese buns. You’ll have to try them some day.”
At that, Peeta looked embarrassed by her praise. “They’re not bad,” he said with a shrug, pushing his sweaty, floppy blonde hair off his forehead. “If you ever stop by the bakery, I’ll let you have one, on the house.”
“Sure,” Katniss mumbled.
“What are you up to tonight?” Madge asked Peeta without preamble. “I missed your game, so you have to let me buy you a drink to make up for it.”
He laughed. “It’s not a big deal. But sure, I’ll let you buy me a drink.”
“Great! Want to meet up at The Hob at 8?” He nodded, and Madge turned to Katniss, her eyes wide. “Katniss, you want to come?”
Glancing briefly at Peeta, Katniss looked to her friend, whose blue eyes were dancing with mischief. Normally, she would be irritated with her for strong-arming her into a situation like this, but this time, she found she wasn’t too annoyed at the prospect of hanging out with this guy.
He was most definitely not her type, but he seemed nice enough. Definitely not a Cato type, that much she could already tell. Maybe it would be good for her to not spend yet another night obsessing over what Gale and his new girlfriend were up to.
She shrugged with more nonchalance than she felt. “Sure, why not?”
Peeta was already at The Hob when Katniss and Madge arrived. He’d claimed a booth toward the back, away from most of the drunk patrons loitering around the bar, which Katniss was grateful for.
She’d put more care into her appearance for tonight, though not so much that it looked like she was obviously trying to look nice. She’d simply switched her hoodie for a cute-ish top and leather jacket paired with her black skinny jeans and boots. She’d also made sure to shower and wash her hair, since she still felt pretty grubby from the previous night of drinking. She’d wanted to braid her hair like she normally did, but Madge had insisted on leaving it down.
“Remember: warrior princess,” she’d told her. (Personally, Katniss thought a warrior princess would probably braid her hair just to keep it out of her way, but whatever.)
She always felt strange with her hair down—like it made her feel exposed or something—but when Peeta's eyes widened just slightly on her, suddenly, she was glad for Madge’s insistence.
As they approached, he stood from the booth to greet them. Sadly, he’d put on a shirt for this meetup, a plaid button-down over his jeans. Madge, who had of course opted for a cute mini dress and tights, hugged him. “Hey! Thanks for grabbing a table!” she said.
Katniss, who always hated the awkwardness of having to decide whether a hug or a handshake was the appropriate greeting for a friend of a friend, quickly slid into the booth to forego the dilemma altogether.
“No problem,” Peeta said, sitting down across from Katniss as Madge wedged into the booth beside her. He smiled, glancing between both of them. “You two look great.”
Self-consciously, Katniss tucked her hair behind her ear, but Madge reached across the table to swat his arm. “Flatterer.” Shrugging out of her jean jacket, Madge looked at Katniss. “Peeta’s the biggest sweetheart you’ll ever meet. Even when you know you look like shit, he’ll tell you otherwise.”
He laughed. “Come on. You know you never look like shit, Madge.”
She rolled her eyes, but Katniss scoffed. “He’s right.”
“He’s a liar,” Madge joked, shooting him a playful glare. “He saw me in way too many morning classes the day after a rager to say that.”
Peeta shook his head. “I’m also rude, apparently. I didn’t know what you two would like, so I didn’t order you drinks yet,” he said by way of apology, indicating his own beer. “I can get it for you now though, if you’d like.”
Madge shrugged, already sliding out of the booth. “No worries! I know what Katniss likes. Be right back.”
With that, she was gone, leaving them alone as she made her way to the bar before Katniss could even object. Dammit. She fought the impulse to scowl after her friend.
“So, just so we’re on the same page here: We both know this is a set-up, right?” Peeta asked, startling her. She glanced at him sharply, her face heating, but he smiled kindly at her.
God, she was going to kill Madge for this. “Yes, it would appear so,” she admitted.
“Madge isn’t very subtle, is she?”
“About as subtle as a gunshot,” she agreed on a mutter.
He shrugged. “I guess it’s part of her charm.” Looking at her more keenly, he asked, “What do you like? Beer-wise. Just for future reference.”
Katniss fought the urge to fidget. “Dark beers, mostly. But I also like sours.”
He smiled. “Well, that’s easy enough to remember. I like dark and sour beers, too.”
Katniss found herself smiling slightly, too, despite her lingering mortification. Gale only ever drank IPAs, which she couldn’t really stand.
Madge returned a moment later, a beer in each hand. “A porter for you, a pale ale for me,” she said cheerily as she sat back down in the booth. She made a face. “I don’t like this new bartender at all. He was quite rude. He carded me and made me pay up front.”
“Well, that’s usually how they do business,” Katniss said wryly before swigging her beer. Madge rolled her eyes, but Peeta chuckled.
“Haymitch,” he said helpfully. “He’s a bit of a grouch, but he can be fun to talk to. If you catch him in a good mood.”
“Peeta gets along with everyone,” Madge complained good-naturedly to Katniss, which was funny, coming from the most social person Katniss had ever met. “Except the guys I date, for some reason.”
Grimacing, Peeta cleared his throat, but Katniss jumped to his defense. “No one likes the guys you date, Madge.”
Her friend pouted. “Well, I’d appreciate it if you keep that to yourselves because Darius is coming, and I don’t want you to scare him off!” she pleaded.
“Who?” Katniss asked cluelessly, and Madge huffed.
“The guy I met last night! I invited him to hang out with us tonight. In fact, he—”
She was interrupted by someone calling her name, and they twisted in the booth to locate the caller. Through the parting crowd, Katniss spotted the red hair of the guy Madge had been hanging out with at the house party. At the sight of her, he broke out into a grin, and Madge let out a squeal, jumping from the booth to run to him. He caught her in his arms, lifting her off the ground as she kicked her feet. She laughed, and he put her down, his hands going to her waist as they talked. Madge punched his arm playfully, but they were too far away to hear whatever they were saying.
Rolling her eyes, Katniss let out a huffing laugh. “God, she’s shameless,” she said jokingly, turning back to Peeta. What she saw made her pull up short. He was watching Madge and Darius, his brow furrowed in a frown, a pained look in his eyes.
Dumbfounded, Katniss could only stare at him. She knew that look well. “Oh my god.”
The look instantly vanished, his expression clearing, and he glanced at her, eyebrows raised. “What?”
She shook her head. Of fucking course. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”
His eyes widened. “What? No—” He broke off into a laugh, but his cheeks turned ruddy.
She snorted. “Please. Every guy Madge meets falls in love with her. And they all look exactly like you just did when they watch her move on to the next guy.” His blush deepened, only confirming her suspicions. She couldn’t help the wave of disappointment that washed over her—Peeta was the first guy she’d felt a flicker of interest in since Gale. But, well, how angry could she really be? She was hung up on someone else, too.
“It’s fine. I’m not mad,” Katniss assured him, even if it was only mostly true. “You can’t help who you like, right?”
Peeta ran a hand through his hair. “She and I have never—” He fumbled with his words. It was quite endearing to see him suddenly so unsure and embarrassed. “I mean, we’ve only ever been friends.”
She arched an eyebrow. “She said you hooked up.”
His eyes widened. “I mean—we made out at a party one time. We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you mean. And she never brought it up again. She’s not into me like that.”
“Why?” She was genuinely curious.
He looked uncomfortable, jerking his shoulders in a shrug. “I don’t know. I’m just not her type, I guess.”
“Meaning, you’re kind and not an arrogant asshole?” Katniss guessed. He made a face, twisting his pint glass between his hands.
“Well. Her loss, I’m sure,” Katniss told him. He gave her a pained smile followed by a weak laugh.
“Thanks. I appreciate that, even if I’m not sure you actually mean it.” He looked sheepish. “I understand if this is weird for you now.” He gestured between them. “If you want to bail on this whole thing, I totally get it.”
“Why would I leave? I haven’t even finished my beer,” she said, mildly annoyed.
“Sorry. I swear I’m not trying to run you off,” he explained with a wince. “I just don’t know how cool I’d be if someone I was on a date with was actually into my friend.”
“No, you’re right, it’s pretty fucking weird. “ A thought struck her then. “Actually...this might be a good thing.”
“A good thing?” he repeated, confused. Already, her mind was spinning with the possibilities.
“Yeah. I’ll be honest with you. Madge wanted me to meet you because she was hoping you would help me get over my ex,” she told him. Normally, saying that out loud would be humiliating, but considering his situation with Madge, this felt like a safe space to fess up.
Peeta frowned. “Your ex?”
“Gale. We broke up a few months ago, but I guess I’m still...kind of in love with him. I don’t know.” Her face went hot, and she looked down at her beer. “I think I want to get back together with him. But the problem is...he’s with this new girl now. So I think maybe you and I could help each other.”
“How so?” he asked.
“You’re into Madge? You want to date her?” Katniss pressed. His cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes, glancing quickly at Madge and Darius before looking back at Katniss.
“I suppose so, yeah,” he said quietly.
“Maybe seeing you with someone else will force her to see you in a new light. And maybe Gale seeing me with someone will make him change his mind, too.”
“I’ve dated before, and she’s never cared,” Peeta said, pointing out the obvious flaw in her plan.
Katniss was undeterred. “Yes, but has she ever seen you date her best friend?”
“Why would she suggest it if it would bother her?” he countered.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. But there has to be a reason she’s never suggested you to me before now. Maybe subconsciously she’s held off from introducing us because she actually is into you and doesn’t want you with anyone else.”
Skeptically, Peeta stared at her, and her pulse began to jump. Maybe it had been a mistake to suggest such an absurd idea... “So, you’re suggesting we date each other to make Madge and Gale jealous?”
She cleared her throat. “Fake date each other. It wouldn’t be for real. We’d both know it was only pretend, but Madge and Gale would think otherwise.”
“I don’t know,” he hedged. “Sounds kinda dishonest.”
She made a face at him. “What are you, a Boy Scout?”
“No, I’m just not keen on starting a relationship on a lie,” he shot back.
“It wouldn’t be a lie. I mean, we’d still be hanging out, going on dates and doing couple-y things. Just, you know, without the messy feelings and—well, without the sex,” she said, flushing slightly. His eyebrows lifted, and she hurried to add, “We could always tell them it was just a casual thing. And, technically, it would be. I mean, dating is so fluid these days, so who’s to say it wasn’t real? No one ever has to know we had an arrangement.”
“And if this plan of yours doesn’t work?” he asked. She chewed on her lip, thinking.
“We can set a deadline on it. Say, six months from now. If neither Gale nor Madge seem to be biting, we call it off and go our separate ways. No harm, no foul.”
He looked unconvinced. “What if your ex wants you back, but Madge still isn’t interested in me? Or what if Madge is, but Gale isn’t?”
“The moment either of them shows an interest, we end it. If it doesn’t work with Gale but works with Madge, then good for you.” She shrugged. “Honestly, I won’t be upset. You already seem way more likable than the guys she usually dates.”
Peeta took a deep breath, his eyes cutting toward Madge and Darius once more. After a moment of hesitation, the clouded look in his eyes cleared, and he turned back to Katniss, determined. “OK, sure. Why not?”
“You’ll do it?” she asked, slightly surprised by his agreement, even though it was her idea.
Licking his lips, he nodded. “Yeah. I mean, there are worse ways to spend the next six months than hanging out with a pretty woman, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to butter me up, you know. I’m already in the bag.” She stuck her hand out to him. “So. We’ve got a deal?”
He stared at her hand for a moment before taking it in his, shaking it firmly. He held her eyes and smiled. “Deal.”
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So I’ve been thinking more about Hilda (because duh) and I came up with a Future HC/AU
I’m tentatively calling it the Librarian!HC because the idea is that when David, Frida and Hilda grow up they all replace Kaisa at the Trollburg Library, each of them taking on different aspects of the overall job to collectively be the best in the business. Spoilers for S2 of course.
David: The Librarian
-He’s literally just a normal librarian.
-Hard pass on all those adventures, thanks tho.
-Best Librarian there ever was though. He knows what book someone needs just by looking at them. Not even necessarily the one they want, the one they need.
--With Frida and Hilda he’s even better, with the stack ready before they even walk in the door.
-Everyone thinks he’s got some sort of magic, but he’s actually just INCREDIBLY intuitive and perceptive.
-One dude swears up and down the wall he saw an army of ants bringing him a book once. Frida laughs and says “Of course he did. Bugs love David.” “So he does have magic?” “Oh no not at all!” The poor guy leaves more confused than when he first asked. With the right book though.
Frida: The Witch
-Frequently goes out adventuring with Hilda (spoilers: her familiar) to solve problems for those in need.
-Her witch-training thesis (if we could compare it to college classes, which I am) was using several complex spells she made herself to map out the Nowhere Space, not to mention her diplomatic skills to convince the Nisse to let her in the first place.
-- It turns out fine, because only Frida can actually read it anyway. She uses it to jump across the world extremely quickly. The Nisse are a little miffed, but it’s not like they can make her un-know it, and she’s very respectful so they let it slide.
--Eventually it gets to the point where she can use the Nowhere Space as efficiently as a Nisse, no map required, so she lets the Witch Council have it (they’ll never figure it out).
Hilda: The Familiar
-Again, no shock, they say it in the show.
-Hilda’s familiar final exam was to protect Frida, who was not allowed to defend herself in any way, from anything the Council can think to throw at her.
--Hilda says if they wanted to make it fair she could tie one of her hands behind her back. Frida snorts.
--She of course kicks butt.
-Handles the more physical side of adventures while Frida gets the intellectual. Neither views the other as lesser for it of course.
--Fight off the zombie hoard? Done. Climb cliff face to grab ancient relic? She’s already halfway up. Big chasm? Lasso across, Frida in her arms.
-She’s ripped by the way.
The three of them together are the most effective at the job the witches have ever seen. Kaisa and Tildy endlessly brag about it to the Council.
Feel free to send me any other ideas you have! This is about all I’ve got right now.
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Love Me Tender Part 3
(Note: I know Molly hasn’t been confirmed as a demon nor is she in Hell, but for the sake of the story, I’m saying that she is a demon and she is in Hell. There’s not a lot of information on the spider fam so I’m going to be taking some liberties here)
Sunday dinners at your dad’s home have always a tradition, even when you all were alive. It wasn’t religious, Lord knows if it had been you probably wouldn’t have ended up here. But when your family spends every day of their lives and afterlives meeting with mob bosses, disposing of bodies, and doing drugs, it was nice to have a reason to come together and remind each other that you were all still here. It was because of those dinners and the evenings spent cooking with your Nonna that your love of cooking came to fruition.
Oh, your Nonna. You’ve tried looking for her down here, even though you know that there was no way she was deserving of a place like this. She was a saint, the mother you deserved instead of the mother you actually had. Your mother was cold, lazy, vain, couldn’t care for her children to save her life, judgmental -- she always insisted you try whatever insane weight loss trend was popular. Nonna was kind, understanding, taught you to be tough but also how to take care of those you loved, and never tried to pit you and your sister against each other. She’s honestly the only reason yours and Molly’s relationship survived.
But when she died, you took over as the family’s cook as the only person who could actually make something without burning it. Until you yourself died at the ripe age of 23, long before the rest of your family. Your family doesn’t talk about it much, but you can just imagine what the first dinner without you was like. How sad and empty, how burnt the food must have been if there even was any.
But you’re together again and your dinners were able to survive your family’s plunge into the afterlife. Apparently, so did your family home.
As soon as you entered the threshold of the home, you and Angel were smushed into a hug by Molly.
“My darlings!” She cries. Angel and you snuggle into the warm arms of your sister and wrap your arms around her.
“How are ya, Mol?” Angel asks.
“Oh, ya know, same old, same old.”
“Are those creeps giving you trouble at the store?” You take a step back and eye your sister up and down, looking for any physical manifestation that those creepy men crushing on your sister are up to no good.
“Not since you had a little chat with them, (N/N),” she teases.
Molly’s eyes brighten at the sight of your outfit.
“Ooh! You’re wearing the new skirt and blouse! It’s so pretty on you, (Y/N)! And I know I always say this but you have a great rack girl, ya gotta show it off like this more.”
You blush brightly and cross your arms over your torso.
“Gee thanks, Molly,” you mumble.
“I don’t know how you haven’t found a man yet with that bod!” She squeals and pinches your cheeks.
“Well, since ya mentioned it...” Angel smirks.
“Nope!” You shout and storm further into the house to avoid your baby siblings.
Molly looks back at Angel with an arched brow, the question looming in the air.
You make it to the kitchen, where your father and brother are heating up the food you left here last week. You turn your nose up.
“You know, I could have made something fresh. This is all a week old! And here I thought you were going to cook for once.”
“Very funny, (Y/N),” Niss grumbles, stirring the pasta sauce you had brought over last time.
“How are ya, sweetheart?” Henroin gives you a warm hug, one that is snug and warm and reserved for his unofficially favorite child.
“I’m good, dad. Doing just fine.”
“They’re running you ragged at that hotel.”
“Which means I’m left to pick up the slack,” Niss growls. You pull away from the hug and pull your brother into a forceful hug, just to make him uncomfortable. You were the same height as Niss and a year younger, and as grumpy and infuriating he can be, you always felt the closest to him. You’d like to think he felt the same, considering he scolds you the least. Or maybe that’s just because you’re way stronger than him and you have wrestled him to the ground.
“I know, but I’m doing this for Angel--”
“Anthony,” Niss hisses.
“If he tells me he wants to go by Angel, then I’m calling him Angel.” You narrow your eyes, your irises flashing a dangerous red and your teeth grow into vicious fangs in an instant. Niss rolls his eyes but backs down, trying to hide the shiver that went up his spine.
“I still don’t see how they’re supposed to help him.”
“Neither do I but I genuinely believe that that hotel is his only chance.”
“But why do you have to be there, too?” Your father asks.
“Because I’m the only one who knows how to handle him,” you beam.
“And because she’s dating the Radio Demon,” Molly squeals as she bursts in the kitchen, followed closely by a smirking Angel.
“What?!” Your brother and dad yell.
“I am not dating the Radio Demon, right, Angel?” You stalk over to him and stomp on his foot.
“Ah! Fine, fine. But she’s got him wrapped around her little finger, don’t ya, sis?”
“What the hell does that mean, (Y/N)?” Niss growls. Your father just stares at you, his eyes empty of all emotion but his shoulders are tensed.
“It means nothing. We work together and. That’s. It.” Everyone in the kitchen is staring at you. Angel is smirking, Molly is biting her lip as she holds in a squeal, Niss looks as though he’s about to punch a wall, and your dad is still staring at you. Their eyes are like deadly sunbeams and your body is a wilting flower. You wrap your arms around yourself, wishing the ground would just swallow you up and transport you to Second Hell, or whatever lies beyond this reality. A part of you finds yourself longing for arms to hold you, to wrap around you and shield you. Longing for grey arms in a red suit to protect you.
Oh jeez, maybe you do love him.
“The sauce is burning,” you break the silence and move towards the stove. “Is the pasta ready?”
“Yeah,” Henroin says and brings a bowl of noodles to the already set table. You turn the stove off and slip on two oven mitts to bring over the pot of sauce.
“Sit down,” you command. Your siblings scurry to their seats as your dad and you arrange everything on the table.
Once you’ve all sat and filled your plates (and taken away Angel’s phone), you turn to your dad.
“So what was the big announcement?” You ask.
Henroin swallows, “Not so much of an announcement, more of a request of you and Anth-- Angel. I know this hotel has been good for you,” he says to your brother. “And it sounds like it’s been... good for you too, (Y/N). But I need you to start pulling your weight around here, especially you, (Y/N).”
“Why me?” (Y/N) you ask, sending your father an incredulous look. “I thought I told you I wanted out of all of that nasty business.”
“Because some of our partners respond better to you. You have a way with people, in the way that is below my stature and beyond anything your brother can do.”
“Dad!” Niss yells, offended.
“Shut up. Now listen, (Y/N), you can still stay at the hotel, do whatever the hell it is you do there,” he gives you a pointed look, hinting that he hasn’t forgotten the Radio Demon business.
“But when I need you to attend a meeting or negotiation,” he continues. “I expect you to be there. You owe your family that.”
You look down at your barely-picked-at-plate, having suddenly lost your appetite.
“I’m guessing you have a meeting soon that you think I’d be well-suited for,” you mumble.
“There’s an Overlord we need to do some business with and I finally convinced her to have an audience. But word on the street is that she responds better to friends or women. And since we’re not friends and I’m definitely not sending Molly--”
“Daddy, you wound me!”
“--That leaves you, kid. We’re counting on you.”
You nod your head. The conversation continues, your siblings argue, Henroin gives you details for the meeting but you let it all wash over you like a wave. You actually thought you could finally start living for yourself for once, that you could stop taking care of others. You were wrong.
The city is alive with the sound of laughing and screaming, but all you can think about is the meeting tomorrow with Rosie, an Overlord and the owner of Rosie’s Emporium. Your eyes are heavy from the chaotic dinner, the three times you had to keep Niss from launching himself across the table at Angel, Molly talking your ear off about some cute man who would be perfect for you, and the new weight that has been added to your shoulders. It takes everything in you not to crash the car on your way home.
When you arrive back at the hotel it’s late at night and somehow Angel has boundless energy. He prances to the door, calling out about some party he’s been invited to by Cherri.
“Angel, it’s a Sunday night,” You scold.
“And? My work doesn’t exactly require me to be up and at em at 8, doll.” He bursts through the doors and immediately goes over to Husk and the bar, probably to pregame. You shuffle your way inside after him, rubbing your temples in an effort to tame the ache developing in your head.
“Oh, darling,” Alastor sings. He dances into the lobby from the kitchen, smile as wide as ever, holding two steaming mugs. Except instead of one of his pristine suits, he is dressed in slacks, suspenders, a shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a red apron. He looks completely and utterly adorable, and you’re just loving the view of his lithe forearms.
As soon as he heard Angel’s voice bothering Husk, Alastor came running to the lobby with the hot chocolate he had spent hours perfecting. His first batch was too bitter, the second far too sweet for anyone’s liking, and the third was accidentally consumed by Charlie (who is now hiding somewhere in the hotel to avoid his wrath). Plus, he had to endure Charlie’s relentless teasing. But he was certain this would be the perfect cup of liquid goodness to impress his sweetest darling. And judging by your tense shoulders and the stress in the lines of your face, you would definitely be needing something to lift your spirits.
“Goodness, did the dinner not go well?”
You released a deep, exhausted sigh, and lifted your head slowly to meet his eyes. For a moment, Alastor wonders if this might have been the wrong move. You were clearly worn out. You probably just wanted to shut yourself in your room and go to bed and not have anything to do with him and his boyish attempts to woo you. Hot chocolate, really? What was he thinking? Someone like you deserved something lavish, and you would probably scoff at something so simple as a hot drink.
His shoulders deflate at your lack of smile.
“It went about the same as it always did,” you sigh. “Siblings fighting, me saving dinner, my sister trying to set me up with some man.”
Alastor has to restrain the growl bubbling up in his chest.
Your eyes fall to the two mugs in his hands. You sniff the air and smile at the rich scent.
“Is that hot chocolate?”
“Oh... yes, it is.”
“Mm, is there any left?”
“Well of course! I made this cup especially for you, dearest!” He practically shoves the mug into your hands.
You quickly lift the mug to your lips and hope to all that is good and holy that he chalks your blushing cheeks to the heat of the drink.
“Oh, Alastor, this is wonderful. Thank you. I really needed this after the night I had.” You smile up at him, the lines in your face easing immediately. It’s enough to make the Radio Demon’s knees quake.
“You are absolutely welcome...” He pauses. The original plan was to woo you with the drink, whisk you off to a remote corner of the hotel, and attempt to confess his undying love to you. But the yawn you try to stifle almost causes him to deflate. Almost.
“Would like to talk about it, love? I’m all ears! U-Unless you’re too tired. You absolutely do not have to--”
Love. Love. You grip the mug tighter.
“Actually, Alastor, that would be lovely. If you don’t mind.”
“Not at all.”
He places a hand on the small of your back and transports you both to the library. He snaps his fingers and a fire lights up the room for you both. You flop onto the couch and Alastor takes a seat beside you, making a point to sidle up to you as you proceed to detail everything about your day.
At first you were rather restrained, convinced that the last thing this important, powerful, strong, kind, considerate, lovely man wanted was to listen to your problems. But as he asked more and more questions, he opened you up like an oyster, waiting patiently for the pearl inside.
“So now I’m meeting with this Rosie tomorrow. Something about transporting her goods across territories.”
“Rosie, you say?”
“Yes. Oh, do you know her?”
“Why yes! She’s an old and dear friend. But, um, quite ruthless towards strangers. You said you’re going alone?”
“Is that... normal? I mean, for you to go alone to meet such dangerous individuals.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve been doing so since I was 18 and alive.”
Alastor chokes on his drink.
“I grew up in the mafia, Al.” You send him a coy smile. “I’m not as defenseless as I look.”
“Oh, I never doubted that, dearest, but... to not have anyone there for support...”
“When you grow up the way I did, you learn not to trust anyone. Not fully at least, and definitely not until you know them well enough.”
“Is that right... Do... Do you trust me, then? Or have I not earned that honor?” Alastor smiles at you but within he is a mess. This is it. The moment you tell him that he’s far too dangerous, too vicious, too disgusting for you to ever let into your life in the way he craves.
“You’re on your way.” You smirk at him and the light floods back into his body. That’s a start.
“So, would you allow me to accompany you tomorrow then?”
“Oh, no, Alastor I could never impose on you like that--” He’s just being polite, you tell yourself. He doesn’t actually want to spend time with you outside of the hotel, isn’t actually concerned with whether you die at the hands of this Rosie.
“Nonsense, my darling.” He leans down, smelling the chocolate on your breath. His nose is so close to yours, your lips just as near to his. He could lean forward just a bit, feign a fall, just for one chance to kiss you like he’s dreamed.
“I would love nothing more than to be your knight in shining armor.”
You smile, “Just to be clear, if you are going to escort me, Alastor. I am no damsel in distress.” You boop his nose and giggle at the hot blush on his cheeks.
“But,” you continue, “I would love nothing more than to have your company tomorrow.”
“Well, then have it you shall, love.”
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Headcanons for Erik, Victoria and the Bellkeeper?
Send me a character and i’ll give an example of each:
Headcanon A: what I think realistically
Headcanon B: what I think is fucking hilarious
Headcanon C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends
Headcanon D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway
A: Erik absolutely got his position as a result of nepotism. The Safety Patrol has been lead by an Ahlberg many times since it was founded (their patrol uniforms are even based off Edmund’s outfit), and Erik’s father was the previous Chief Ranger. Erik’s spent his whole life believing this is what he was born for, and he remains convinced he’s a born troll-slayer despite the reality of the situation.
B: Erik straight-up doesn’t know he was turned into a bug. As part of the spell, he didn’t even realise he had been changed, and his story of saving children from a raging troll is what he actually believes. Gerda doesn’t have the heart to completely shatter his delusion, even if she shuts down his attempts to milk it.
C: There is a small part of Erik that’s insecure; under all that bravado, there’s a small voice in his head that says he’ll never be as good as Edmund or the rest of his family. That’s why he’s put so much misguided effort into modernising the Patrol (with new cars, the autobell system, etc), even though he’s so confident in his own abilities.
D: Erik is weirdly good at singing; he likes to invent ballads about his own great deeds, and tries to get Gerda and the patrol officers to sing along with him. He tends to break into song on a whim while working, much to everyone else’s annoyance.
A: Victoria is genuinely fond of Hilda; she sees Hilda as a kindred spirit, even if Hilda doesn’t agree, and part of her genuinely thought she would approve of the Nowhere Space plan. The thought of upsetting Hilda in particular does make her feel bad, but she tries to do her best to ignore that.
B: Victoria used to get in arguments with the weather spirits over Trolberg, using her weather control equipment to join in their arguments. One of the reasons why she has so much control over the city before The Storm is because most of the local spirits knew and avoided “the city with that crazy woman who’ll fight you.”
C: Victoria, as much as she hates to admit it, is very lonely and desperate for validation. She’s convinced herself she likes solitude, but the truth is she misses the friends she parted ways with (or lost) years ago, and that’s one of the reasons why she’s so fond of her Nisse. By the end of The Windmill, she refuses to return because she feels like she has nothing left to lose; that’s why she stays in the portal, sure that whatever’s on the other side must be better than the awful solitude.
D: Mind if I go full Forests of Oregon here? I absolutely love the idea that she was old friends with Stanford Pines and McGucket as a young adult, and that their disappearances were one of the things that hit her hardest and drove her into solitude.
A: The Bellkeeper doesn’t think much of Ahlberg as head of the Safety Patrol. As someone who sees trolls and other creatures a lot, he knows that they can be dangerous, but only if you’re not careful around them. He thinks the Patrol could do well to remember some of the old ways, like how the bells used to be manned, but that they should also learn to coexist with creatures rather than confronting them. He is, however, fairly close friends with Gerda and appreciates what she’s trying to do.
B: The Bellkeeper has a Jorts addiction. He loves cucumber sandwiches and proper meals, but he will absolutely inhale an entire multibag of Jorts if given half a chance. He has bags of them all over his cabin in drawers and cupboards, cause he likes to snack while he’s working.
C: The Bellkeeper always wanted to have children, but he was never able to; it’s a big regret of his. Part of him sees Hilda as a substitute, and he can’t help caring for her, but he tries to ignore that feeling.
D: His name is Argus Mitchell - no idea why, I just think it fits.
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Santa’s Little Helper
It’s my Christmas fic, y’all.
Not relic universe.
TITLE: Santa’s Little Helper
Summary: Loki wrangles Thor into playing Santa at the mall. Family feels are had. It’s sacherine and fluffy.
Wordcount: 2400 (because it’s Dec. 24...)
In retrospect, it had been the enormous cinnamon roll’s fault.
Loki was half-way through his snack, and half-way to regret over purchasing it in the first place, when he saw the long queue of children waiting to meet the mall Santa.
He was determined to finish the roll, of course, as sickeningly sweet as it was—much like Christmas in general, but Loki rather surprisingly enjoyed that part. Thor had promised to split the dessert with him, but his promise had been empty. One bite and he was satisfied. He had never shared Loki’s love of sweets.
And, well, Thor had put on a lot of sympathy weight since Loki’s last visit.
But part of the problem was that Thor was laden with bags upon bags of Christmas presents. He was responsible for all of the shopping this year. Jane was in no condition to help and Thor was taking his duties very seriously, as he always did. He refused to let Loki vanish anything away, even for the sake of freeing his arms.
So in order for him to share the roll, Loki would have to feed him by hand. And that was not going to happen.
Oh well. More Cinnabon for me, thought Loki. That was before the nausea set in.
But the line of children had spilled out of Santa’s Workshop and was now circling around a fountain and trailing all the way toward the entrance of Bloomingdales. Loki frowned and tilted his head. Thor must have thought he was actually looking at Bloomingdales, because he gestured and mentioned something about buying yet another gift for Jane.
“That line is far too long,” said Loki. “It’s deplorable.”
“Children should not be made to wait that long to see the Santa.”
Loki began tapping his foot on the floor. He tapped his fork against the side of the roll, as well, before stuffing another mouthful of what was mostly icing between his teeth. It tasted like pure childhood. The amount of sugar was beginning to make him vibrate.
“That line must be hours long. The children look as though they are being tortured. Visiting the Santa should be fun. It should be a happy memory.”
“First of all, it’s just Santa. Not The Santa.”
Loki did not care for the correction. It failed to embarrass him, but Thor had been in a very agitated mood as of late, and it was grating on everyone else. Jane had all but begged Loki to take him off her hands for a few hours. He was constantly overwhelmed, constantly worried, and though he had every reason, even Loki thought he might be overdoing it a bit, and that said something.
Then again, the pressure was not on Loki. He was only going to be an Uncle. Jane was due with his nephew any day now.
“They wait in lines like that every year," Thor went on. "You’ve never been to the mall at Christmas before. How do you even know what meeting Santa is?”
Loki shrugged. Context clues. Never mind the fact that the modern-day Midgardian Santa was heavily influenced by Woden, a Germanic interpretation of Odin…
Loki liked Santa far better. A jolly old man who adored children of every race and creed? It was a vast improvement, in his personal opinion.
But Thor was right, Loki had never been to the mall at Christmas. He did spend a good amount of time on Earth these days, paying visits to his brother and Jane that probably out-stretched his welcome, but this was his first visit to encompass a major Midgardian holiday. Loki had quickly decided that Christmas was a good thing and all his favorite parts were the ones that celebrated the happiness of children.
Children made to wait for hours? Loki did not care for that. “I think something’s gone wrong.”
Loki pointed with his fork. “See those gnomes? They appear to be discussing grave matters.”
“Gnomes? You mean, elves?”
Elves? Hm. Loki had a very different concept of what elven peoples looked like.
One of the elves was on the telephone. The others were milling about with furrowed brows, wringing their hands. They looked like lunatics, and sounded like them, too, with jiggling bells sewn into their clothes, but it still plucked a minor chord in Loki’s heartstrings. Perhaps his sugar rush was already crashing.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Brother,” sighed Thor. “The line is long because everyone wants to meet Santa. He’s very popular—Loki, where are you going?”
Loki was going to find out what had gone wrong, that was where he was going. If this holiday was about bringing children joy then, by the Norns, he was going to see to it that it did not bring them tears instead.
He stuffed the remainder of his cinnamon roll into his mouth and discarded the evidence in a trash can.
“Excuse me, is something the matter?” he addressed one of the fretful employees, a teenage girl who looked as though she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. From behind, he could hear Thor running to catch up.
“I'm sorry. Santa’s been...detained,” she said, maintaining meager poise in her polite reply. “We’re gonna close the workshop. Can you come back tomorrow…? Oh my god, you’re Loki.”
“What do you mean detained?” Loki ignored the girl’s shock at seeing him. It was a typical reaction, even if he was on better footing with the humans these days. PR was everything. Having an Avenger for a brother helped. But that wasn't important right now. Loki distinctly remembered seeing Santa when he and Thor first arrived, seated upon his Christmas throne, taking photographs with the children. So where was he now?
"He left for lunch and we haven't heard from him… Oh my god, you’re Loki. And Thor!” gasped the second elf. The bells on her pointed hat rung with her surprise.
“Yes, yes...” Loki sighed. Thor laughed with Santa-like jocularity. In the spirit of Christmas, Loki refrained from jabbing him in the ribs.
The third elf had been on the telephone this whole time: an ancient, tan device with a curly cord—how it was able to contact anyone was beyond Loki. Abruptly, she hung up. “I got a hold of him.”
“Where is he?” the other elves asked at once.
"His son was in a car accident… Oh my god, it’s Loki and Thor.”
Of course, Loki had always known the man dressed as Santa was an actor, but hearing about something so grizzly was jarring. The trio of elves flew into a flurry over the news. The son was hurt, but not seriously. His father needed to mind the grandchildren until someone else could step in. Everything would be fine. The only tragedy was that he could not return to the mall until later that night.
They needed to shut down the Workshop for the rest of the afternoon.
“Would you like the two of us to step in?” asked Loki.
The elves might as well have been smacked upside the head, the way they suddenly lost their balance.
Thor made a sound as though he had choked. “What?” Suddenly, his hand was around Loki's elbow. "That enormous Cinnabon went straight to your head. Are you crazy?"
"Jane is expecting me home."
"No, she's not," protested Loki. "She kicked you out so you would stop driving her mad with your incessant fawning—"
Thor winced. Loki shut up. He felt a bit bad about pointing out just how annoyingly intense Thor's caregiving had been as of late, but it was the damned truth, although he could hardly blame Thor.
"These gnomes need our help," Loki pressed on. The sugar would power him through. "Are you not sworn to protect this realm?"
Thor rolled his eyes. Loki scowled. How could Thor not understand? It was of the utmost importance that they not send these children away.
Thor blinked at him. Slowly. “You really want to play Santa, Loki?”
Loki haughed. "Oh no. Don’t be silly. You’ll have to play Santa. I'm just your agent.”
Thor looked down at himself, frowning, half-dazed. “I admit, I’m not in the best shape of my life, but playing Santa—”
Loki waved a hand. They did not have time for Thor to be ridiculous. “I’ll have to disguise you. Obviously.”
“Wait a minute. You’re the one who actually wants to…” Thor stopped himself, looked around, and lowered his voice. “You’re the one who came up with this idea. You be Santa.”
“Do you want to go back and forth on this? I could never play a believable Santa, even in costume. It’s not my type. It’s laughable. Are you going to do this for the children or not?”
Loki knew he was manipulating his brother, but only the slightest bit, because he also knew that even if Thor began to walk away, he would only turn around and march straight back. He was Thor to a fault.
Slowly, Thor placed his bags on the floor. Loki vanished them away before he could even begin to change his mind.
"I'm not… as good with children as you are…" Thor muttered. He met Loki's eye.
"You'll be fine. I promise."
"Will I, though?"
Loki's breath caught, as he realized Thor might not be asking about the children in the queue.
One of the elves jumped up and down and clapped, unaware of the silent exchange. “Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening.”
Loki’s heart broke just the slightest bit for his brother, but there was no time to have a family chat now. Loki cast a spell over Thor. With a sound like the wind, his clothing filled out and became bright red, a far more brilliant hue than the standard mall costume. Loki much preferred the older depictions of Santa he had seen on Christmas cards, as far as fashion went. He finished off with a long red coat and buttons trimmed to look like cookie icing, and the hat was a proper nisse cap.
“I’m going to sweat to death in this,” said Thor. Loki had kept his face the same beneath it all, but one could hardly tell beneath the long, white beard that extended all the way to his lap.
“You’ll be fine. Think of it as losing your sympathy weight.”
Thor shot him a tiny glare. “And what are you going to wear?”
Loki hardly had to think before changing into a sharply tailored, velvet, forest green suit, complete with a silk waistcoat.
“You look like a butler,” said Thor, wrinkling his nose.
“This is proper attire for one of Santa's handlers. No offence.” Loki glanced at the elves and, with a shrug, gave himself a pair of pointed ears. Thor rolled his eyes, but Loki did not pay him any mind. He was too busy pushing Thor toward his throne in the Workshop—although why a workshop needed a throne was beyond him. “All you need to do is make this a magical and perfect experience for each child.”
“Piece of cake,” Thor said dryly, or at least, he sounded as though he had said something like that. It was possible that parts of Loki's cinnamon roll had lodged themselves in his brain, never to leave.
A roar of clapping and cheers erupted from the exhausted crowd in the queue. "Your Santa is here!" Loki shouted above it all, and the cheering only grew louder.
Thor waved. Then, he slowly began to grin. Loki had do doubt that his brother would do an excellent job, with his help. This would be a learning experience. Thor was right, Loki was better with children, probably because at heart, he still was one—even if his heart was a bit crusty around the edges. Christmas was an excuse to shed all of that.
A little girl was at the front of the line. Loki could hardly fathom how long she'd been waiting. He met her at the gate and took her by the hand.
"I'm ever so sorry for the wait. I'm...Charles...the North Pole butler. What's your name?" He asked, while one of the mall elves guided her parents to the side of the Workshop.
"Violet," she said, in a sweet, chipmunk-like voice. She was wearing a dress the color of plums. She could not have been more than four years old.
"Oh, that's right! I remember now. Hello, Violet. Are you having a nice day?"
"Excellent! Santa will be so happy to hear that." Loki guided her to Thor, who still looked more nervous than Loki had hoped. He really did need more practice with children before his own arrived. "Mr. Claus, this is Violet. Remember her? She wore such a lovely dress."
"Yes. And...the color matches her name!" Thor's face lit up, no doubt pleased with himself for making the connection.
The three of them chatted for a minute or so—not for too long, because there were dozens and dozens of children to see. Violet asked for a playhouse for her yard. Photos were taken. Candy canes were passed out. Loki was satisfied. No, not merely satisfied, but genuinely contented, which was a Christmas miracle of its own.
He moved to meet the next child at the gate. Thor pulled him back by the hem of his sleeve. "How are you so good at this?"
Loki thought for a moment. A few memories stirred in his heart, some of them happy, some of them sad; feelings he did not know how to explain. In the end, he shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. I just make it up as I go."
"That's how you do everything," said Thor. Loki laughed. Thor's eyelids fluttered and his eyes glistened behind them, pleading for something a bit more meaningful than a joke. For reassurance, perhaps. It stirred Loki's heart.
Loki cleared his throat. "All you have to do," he said, "is make sure they know they are special to you."
Before they both needed to wipe away a tear, Loki turned away. He dove both fists into the basket of candy canes.
"And if ever they need a little cheering up—" He tossed the sweets into the crowd. The whooped and giggled and waved their eager hands. "I heartily suggest lots of sugar!"
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Sail to sea
Lukas sees the Sea Spirit.
Tw death mention, past death, child death, drowning mention
Lucas scanned the horizon. The sun was setting, ending his third day on the job. Orange reflected off the waters of the quiet Norwegian town. The clouds were a beautiful cotton candy pink, soft enough to touch, good enough to eat. As the night closed in, the atmosphere changed. Everything calmed to a relaxing still. The wind blew gently. Jostling his hair. Messing it up.
The boat swayed as the crew readied themselves to port. Lucas drew in the last of the nets. Nothing in them. Same as the previous evening. A low frustrated growl rumbled from Lukas' throat. He tossed the net aside, it hitting the deck with a thud.
"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Thomassen." William, his cousin and crewmate, frowned. His larger, rougher hand clasped Lucas' shoulder firmly. Grounding the younger worker from his rising emotion.
Lucas jerked away. "How are you so calm? The haul is lighter than yesterday. And the day before." William shook his head as he gathered the empty nets.
"S'way it always is, kid." He tossed the nets back to Lucas, the young man falling back a step but otherwise catching it without further struggle.
"Wasn't this way when I was a kid." Lucas muttered. "There were netfulls everyday. More than my father could handle sometimes."
Erick pushed past his fiance's cousin, bumping shoulders with the shorter man. "Things change. Get used to it."
Lucas wouldn't accept it. His father had run this small fishing business for years. Spent his life on it to provide for his family. Then he passes it down to his brother and it goes to shit. The amount of fish fluctuates daily, he's been told. He was instructed to deal with the dead ones they haul in. Do not question the half eaten fish. To throw back the younger ones to avoid killing off the supply. Most shops relied on them for stock. Restaurants relied on those shops. Families relied on both. The whole town will collapse if nothing could be done to fix this.
But Lucas let it go for now. He stored the nets away in the proper place. And then he caught something unusual in the corner of his eye.
Glistening violet in the setting sun. He scanned the landscape but saw nothing more. He was about to turn away, thinking it was a trick of the light, when he saw it again. In as much detail as he could capture.
Out in the distance, a glimmer of purple soared through the air. Lucas swore it was a body. Small and slim. Jumping from the water like a dolphin. "What," Lucas began, not looking away from the ocean. "What was that?"
"What was what?" William asked from the other side of the boat.
"The— whatever jumped into the air just now!"
"Oooooh," Finnigan, the old self appointed crew captain, came up from below the deck stroking his salt and pepper beard. "Sounds like little Lucas has seen it." He trotted over, ruffling the younger one's head of hair. Lucas swatted him away.
"It? Hell is 'it'?" He demanded.
"It," Erick sat down on the gunwale of the boat. "Is the Sea Spirit. Kids these days say it's a mermaid."
"Others say it's a lost spirit. And that's where my money lands honestly." Finnigan finished.
Lucas turned back to the open sea. "So," He looked over the edge, brows furrowed. "It's definitely paranormal?"
The crew nodded.
Later that night, Lucas helped his uncle and aunt clean up the dinner table then snuck off, telling them he was going out for some air. He took down a path where he knew the tide would be low, leaving the rocks dry and exposed. He climbed down the now rusty latter. Maneuvered over the rocks. And sat huddled on the flat bare stone that acted as land. The water was calm and the wind chilly.
Lucas dipped his hand into the cool salty water closing his eyes as he remembered a time long past. When the latter was brand new. Built by his neighbor and son. Kids used to come down here to play with their toy boats. It was once a tradition for the graduating seniors to let go a paper boat in preparation for their free life. Some even set the boats on fire, making a bigger deal out of it than needed. Lucas came out here to play too, once upon a time. When things were simpler. Happier.
But it looks like things have changed. The rope blocking kids off from the deeper parts is gone. The dock where, on occasion, a lifeguard sat, was in shambles. Barnacles hug every nook and cranny possible of every rock in sight thanks to the change in sea level.
And to think it's only been eight years.
"Hey spirit." Lucas called out. Back in the day, their town was home only to humans. No paranormal being could be found. It's a pretty foreign deal to these folk but to Lucas it's become normal. His parents moved him to the city where creatures did reside. Hostile ones. Friendly ones. He met a Fossegrimmen in the surrounding forest he observed everyday as a teen, always trying to muster the courage to ask him to teach him how to play the fiddle. He did always have the stolen meat prepared but never did approach him. He also met trolls and an usual Danish Nisse when he visited the countryside. Lucas is still convinced, after all these years, he even saw the winter spirit when he first moved. His parents continue to deny it.
Lucas was no stranger to these creatures. In fact, being told there was a spirit here, in this boring old port town, was just the pick-me-up he needed after leaving his parents' comfort and care nearly a week ago. Back in the city, he kept journals about the creatures he found. He found them intriguing. Fun to study.
Lucas swirled his hand in the liquid a few more times before retracting it, wiping it dry on his pant leg. "If you are out here, Sea Spirit, you don't have to be shy. I'd like to meet you if that's okay."
Nothing but the sounds of the sea answered.
A few more good bouts of silence and Lucas got up, ready to leave. And then something splashed his shoes as he turned away, soaking them to the bone. He faced the water again, looking down at the edge of the rock. And there it was, the top of a head and a pair of bright violet eyes reflecting the moon poked out of the water's surface. Lucas carefully sat back down a good distance away, never breaking eye contact.
"So," Lucas began. "You're what I saw this evening, huh?" The spirit popped their head further out of the water, revealing their beautiful spots of purple that glimmered in the moonlight. Lucas also noticed it's features. Very child-like, he thought.
"What is your name?" They tilted their head. "Your name. What do they call you?" He repeated.
The spirit suddenly came ashore. With the moonlight as his only source, he could just make out how sickly green and pale their skin was. Their hair covered their eyes, touching their shoulders. Gills sat on the sides of their throat while more purple scales littered their exposed skin. They wore tattered cloth, most likely a torn sail they fashioned into some clothes. Most of all, it was a child. A young boy by the looks of it. Perhaps around four. Or six in human years.
This was unlike anything Lucas has read about.
"If you don't have a name, may I call you something?" The spirit nodded slowly, hesitantly. "Okay. Hm..." Lucas thought hard on this. He's never come across a completely nonverbal creature before. Much less one he's never seen before. This felt like a huge deal to him so the pressure was on.
And then he snapped his fingers, spooking the spirit for a second. "I got it! Emil. You can be called Emil."
Emil grinned from ear to ear at that. Lucas chuckled. "I see you like that, hm?" Emil nodded, more vigorously this time.
"Well my name is—" Without any warning, Emil came over and took Lucas' hand in his. Clasping them together tightly. The two met face to face, Emil smiling with big bright eyes as he shook their hands up and down in an incorrect hand shake. Lucas laughed a little again. "It is nice to meet you too, Emil. I'm Lucas." Emil let go and plopped down on the rock in front of Lucas.
"Can you not talk, Emil?" Emil frowned. He shook his head. "Seems you can understand well enough however. That's good."
With the young spirit closer, Lucas got a better view. His hands seemed to be webbed, feet too. Good for swimming of course. His ears were not human but fin. Small but still stuck out away from the face.
"Hey Emil," The spirit's eyes swam with curiosity. "Would you like to know why I named you Emil?" The boy nodded, leaning forward in anticipation.
Lucas gave a small smile. He took a breath and began. "I had a younger brother. He was around your age even. A small, skinny kid. He was going through this difficult picky eater phase that made mom worry for his future health on a daily basis."
"His name was Emil. A shy kid that had this fixation of collecting rocks and picking up strange bugs every chance he got. He opened up around me, mom, and dad a lot more than he did strangers.. He loved to fish with dad and I. We went every weekend to the docks to catch a few and throw them back. Dad would sometimes make us kiss the fish as it would apparently give us good luck. What a fool.." Lucas chuckled from fond memory.
Emil scooted closer, listening intently as Lucas carried on. "One day, dad thought it would be a good idea to show us how he worked. He took us out on the boat. Put life jackets on the both of us as he knew us kids would want to look out over the boat's edge. But Emil's hardly fit on account of his small body. He." Lucas took a shaky breath. "He fell overboard. And he couldn't swim. Emil had already fallen under before dad jumped in to save him himself. He died. And we never did retrieve his body either."
The spirit layed a cold hand across Lucas' warm one. Emil pointed to himself, tilting his head.
"Yeah. I named you after my brother to honor him I suppose."
Emil shook his head. He quickly retracted his hand and retreated back to the water in the blink of an eye.
Lucas stood, confused.
Now what was that about?
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The sun shimmered across the river, glinting like precious gems. People passed back & forth, engaged in the daily tasks of the village & children played & laughed along the docks.
Eivor grinned at the sight. From abandoned outpost to bustling village, Ravensthorpe had flourished due to her clan’s determination & hard work. It was something she could never have imagined when she first landed on these shores.
The river shimmered but the sight seemed somehow distorted, it’s hues became a darker blue & rippled to expand across the dock.
What in Odin’s name...
Eivor gripped her axe as the phenomenon spread, creating a circle of deep blue energy before her. The surface moved & rippled gently like the sea on a calm day, the movement of the portal distorted and Eivor reached for her axe as several figures came through.
Several of the clan raced to their Jarl’s side with weapons in hand as the strangers came through & only their strange appearance stayed their hand.
It seemed that their visitors came from the Nine Realms itself. A tall purple–hued Dokkalfar with eyes of fire & a white & blonde haired witch seemed to lead them, behind them appeared a mixture of grey skinned Draugr, more Dokkalfar, green skinned Jotun, some bull-like creatures & a contingent of Nisse.
‘By Odin’s eye!’ swore Petra, her bow fully drawn. ‘Who are these people, Eivor?’
‘I intend to find out, love.’ replied Eivor & raised her hand, her people relaxed slightly as she approached the leaders of the strange group. ‘Who are you? What do you want here?’
‘It seems your portal has gone a little awry, wife.’ said the Dokkalfar. The woman beside her coloured & elbowed her in the ribs.
‘I am Jaina Proudmoore.’ said the witch & gestured to the Dokkalfar, ‘This is my wife Sylvanas Windrunner.’
Eivor nodded. ‘You are not from this world.’
‘Indeed. Where are we exactly?’ asked Jaina
‘Ravensthorpe, England.’ she replied. The answer garnered blank stares from the pair. ‘Where are you from?’
‘A place called Azeroth.’
‘I do not know this place. Valka?’
‘This Azeroth is not within the Nine Worlds, of that I am sure.’ replied the Seer.
‘Curious.’ said Eivor.
The portal closed with a soft noise & Eivor paid more attention to their new guests, most looked tired & some showed various wounds & were supported by their comrades. These people came from battle, she thought.
‘Valka, see to their wounded.’ she said. ‘Come, we will find you a place to rest.’
The seer paused, her eyes flickering to the leaders of the strange group.
‘It will be done.’ she nodded. ‘Be careful, Eivor, the seidr of those 2 is strong.’
Only after Sylvanas reluctantly nodded her ascent did the wounded go with Valka & the dokkalfar watched them go, a look of concern flashed across her face.
‘You & your people are safe here, Sylvanas.’ reassured Eivor.
‘We have not had the best experience with humans.’ replied the Banshee Queen, her eyes flickered to her wife & she smiled. ‘Though there are a few exceptions.’
‘People often fear the strange & new.’ remarked Eivor. ‘But some of us prefer to seek it out.’
Sylvanas stared after the blonde Warchief.
What a strange human.
Eivor decided the clearing upriver would be big enough to accommodate their new guests. They attracted much attention along the way, by the time they reached the clearing it seemed the whole village. The children took turns tugging on the green Jotuns cloaks which the giants bore stoically.
Eivor instructed Gudrun & a few other to build tents, she sent out hunters into the forest & asked Tekla to prepare her stores of alcohol for a feast. The brew-mistress was less than happy about this & declared that their guests would clean her out.
‘Is your brew so weak, Tekla, that you cannot slake their thirst?’
‘My brew still has bite, Eivor Jarl! There will be no one left standing come the morn!’
By nightfall the clan & their guests had gathered in the longhouse, the smell of roast meat lingering in the air. Both fell to meat & drink enthusiastically, a few Jotun & Draugr commented that the mead was rather weak, at which point Tekla brought several large containers forth.
‘Strong spirits from the east. Sure to put fire in your belly.’ declared Tekla.
‘Let us put your words to the test, Mistress.’ said Sylvannas, drinking the brew as one would water. After a few mugs she raised her hand. ‘I feel... a slight tingling.’ she said with some surprise & nodded to Tekla. ‘You are truly gifted, Mistress.’
‘Not many can say they got a draugr drunk.’ laughed Eivor, clapping Tekla on the back. ‘Come, Sylvanas, let us see who is left standing.’
Eivor matched the Dokkalfar horn for horn until the container only held a few drinks left. Sylvannas sway but a little while the Raven Clan chief found her vision doubled.
‘Well played.’ said Eivor, draining her horn. She blinked & folded to the ground.
‘Likewise, Warchief.’ sylvanas raised her horn to the unconscious viking.
By sun up, Tekla’s boast had rung true. Jotun, Dokkalfar, draugr & human alike lay passed out around the village. All except Sylvanas, who cradled her wife as she headed towards their tent.
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In Plain Sight
Another Hilda fic that I wrote on a whim after switching between reading the comics and tie-in novels all weekend.
Pairing: Frilda, Gen
Summary: Frida attempts to use a newly learned spell to find Hilda after she suddenly disappears for the second time in a row.
Barely a day had gone by after Hilda and her mom were found escaping the Stone Forest. Yet seemingly overnight, Hilda had vanished from her home once again. Twig was still in the apartment, and Johanna was safe and sound along with Tontu and Alfur. But to everyone’s dismay, it was only the blue-haired adventurer who disappeared and left in her place was a humanized troll child to give a hint as to where she could have gone.
Feeling endlessly inquisitive, Frida asked David to come over to her place as they devised a plan to locate their friend, hoping to find out whether or not she was in mortal danger. The two were in Frida’s bedroom, sitting still on the floor with miscellaneous items surrounding them.
“So, you plan on using magic to find Hilda this time?” David asked.
“That’s correct.” Frida responded, skimming through long paragraphs of a manual she borrowed from Kaisa and Tildy. “We’ll be in even more trouble if we venture out of the wall during nightfall, especially if we get caught by the Safety Patrol. So we’re taking the secure route to look for Hilda first.”
“But why couldn’t we have done this before?!”
“Because last time, I was having trouble practicing another spell,” Frida looked up from her book, “and I hadn’t learned anything else that was useful in finding her. Not until tonight at least.”
As the night breezed in, a whole week had officially gone by since Hilda vanished. During the time spent over her disappearance, Frida continued with her private witch-training while her best friend remained all she could think about. Even for Hilda, there was no way that she could possibly be in the mood to go on a reckless undertaking, not after her and Johanna’s experience running away from trolls, and let alone one where she felt like heading out by herself. It was hard not to overthink about her safety, hence her anxieties became evident through the constant fumbling of a transformation spell she was being taught. Her frown and heart-struck eyes lingered on her complexion, followed by continual groaning whenever she failed to focus.
Tildy was quick to realize the troubles of her apprentice. She discerned Frida’s melancholy as one when a witch loses their closeness to a familiar. So without a moment too soon, the arch-sorceress decided to teach her a new incantation that further linked herself with Frida’s familiar, and one where neither an excess of time, patience and power was needed.
Going back to the present, a small mat was placed in-between Frida and David. Frida put aside her book and delved her hand inside a pouch of pollen, pinching some of the substance little-by-little and sprinkled them into a perfect circle on the mat. Next, she gathered four sodalite rocks and angled them around the pollen ring. The preparation to recite this new enchantment seemed like any other setup that Frida had previously done for more intricate spells, only that the witch-in-training appeared to be a lot swift in laying everything out.
“You seem pretty confident that this spell will work.” David said, remembering the time Frida turned Erik Ahlberg into a bug unintentionally.
“It has to.” Frida asserted. “Unlike my previous spells, this one involves trying it on someone I’ve been close with before I even trained to become a witch, and that should give me enough power to make this spell work. That’s what Tildy said to me anyway, and I believe it.”
When Frida stopped glancing through her items, David instinctively reached for a backpack and dug through its contents.
“Did you find the last thing that we need?” Frida inquired, offering her hand and waited to receive something.
David nodded. “It’s one of the things I see Hilda enjoy in our camping trips, so I thought it would qualify.” he brought out a personal possession from Hilda’s bedroom when he visited the apartment earlier in the day. Well, more like broke in with the help of his nisse.
It was a book written by Hilda’ favorite author, FORESTS AND THEIR UNFRIENDLY OCCUPANTS by Emil Gammelplassen, and David relinquished it to Frida so she could situate the novel in the center of the pollen circle.
“Now, with the item associated with my familiar, the spell I learned will have my eyes become theirs.”
“What does that mean exactly?” David asked bewildered.
“It means I will be able to see what Hilda is seeing, and then I can get an idea as to where she is.” Frida replied. “It won’t last that long, though, so hopefully she isn’t anywhere too in-the-dark.”
She took a deep breath and picked up her wand— the same shaft of a boat’s steering wheel that Hilda gave her all those months ago. Frida enveloped it with both hands and centered it around her chest with the tip pointing upwards. As she nodded and closed her eyes, her expression was more serious than ever. The moment of truth came as she whispered her new spell.
O bekant arbyuda vini...
O bekant arbyuda vini…
O bekant arbyuda vini...
Each recital of the spell grew louder until the pollen gleamed like a lantern. The four sodalite rocks also glinted with traversing blue mist within their surfaces, and together with the pollen they emitted a deep whirring sound. David observed the incantation with his posture raised and eyes opening up in astonishment. He half expected the room to suddenly blow up by an extreme gust of wind, even sensing falsely that a draft was brewing from beneath the ground. But as Frida recited the spell with more vigor for a final time, both the pollen and stones regressed to their natural image from before.
The room became uncomfortably silent. Frida was stuck to her position, and David hung around trying to resist his urge in asking what will happen next.
Suddenly, the inside of Frida’s head felt like it was spinning. Her jaw dropped and her eyes opened, revealing her pupils to be nearly heart-shaped and glowing a rose gold tinge, startling the boy in front of her. Frida did not see herself back in her room, but rather a hazy vision of being dashed down a mountain. To her surprise, even the sound of a girl muttering in fear could be heard. Frida could not doubt it; she was now sharing Hilda’s vision.
“She’s outside.” Frida spoke. “Hilda, can you hear me?”
Her best friend continued to run, not even stopping to call for Frida’s name to acknowledge her. It was worth a try though.
Hilda ran deeper and deeper into the wilderness, gasping quickly and repeatedly until she reached the base of the mountain. Secluded in its shadow, she looked back and caught a glimpse of a bellowing creature that hollered her name in the distance, then she hid herself by prowling through the bushes nearby. She turned again to see an opening that gapped between the ground and the mountain itself; a large, triangular cave that seemed to have been formed ages ago. Whether it led back into the Stone Forest or to some place new, it was her next route to survival and therefore sprinted towards the opening.
Trifling multi-legged vermin and cobwebs were scattered around the ridges of the cave, chilliness was all but absent inside. Her back was against the jagged wall as she peered from behind the corners. No longer did it seem as though she was being pursued, and she took another moment to catch her breath as many times as she could.
“I want to go home.” she cried.
Frida’s heart sank. She had never seen nor heard her friend so panicked and distraught before, and all she could do was watch instead of hurrying to comfort her. But something was even more off about Hilda. Perhaps it was the lack of light in the evening setting, but Frida swore that her arms and legs were as pale as a corpse.
On the spur of the moment, Hilda turned to see what lies beyond the cave. She got up and ambled towards a set of rocks which appeared to be reflective. The closer she got, the clearer her physique was shown on the rocks.
Her long blue hair had tinged to a much grayer shade, and her nose protracted like the pole of a birdhouse. But most distressing of all, her body was entirely made of stone; not a single trace of her humanity was to be seen. As Hilda watched a teardrop cascade on her cheek, Frida mimicked the distrait frown of her friend as they both gazed on the mirror.
“Why can’t I be changed back?!” Hilda exclaimed to her reflection angrily. “This is not at all how I wanted to move back to the wilderness! I do not want to be a troll!”
Her hand clenched into a fist and drew it backwards. Then, she forced it swiftly onto the rock until it had shattered, causing cracks and multiple reflections of a resentful Hilda to form. Immediately after the punch, Frida’s shared vision with Hilda grew progressively far-sighted until everything was merely a blurred spec. Her pupils no longer glowed and were shaped back to normal. And as the spell wore off, she shrieked timorously and knocked back on the floor.
David slithered around the mat and rushed to his friend. “Frida, what happened?” he asked frantically, picking her back up.
“I know where she is, kind of.” Frida stammered. “She’s out of the wall again, in a cave somewhere near the mountains for now but…” the longer she spoke, the closer she came to whimpering.
“It was so strange.” she continued. “It’s not possible but...I know I saw it. I even heard it. But why and how is she...did she get cursed or...UGH!”
She gripped her hair tight as she struggled to make sense of what she saw. “I don’t understand. How on earth did she become a troll?!” she breaks into tears from repressing her speech, not wanting the word “troll” to be overheard outside the room.
“Hilda became a what?!” David exclaimed.
More questions raised in Frida and David’s mind. Frida wished that she could have halted whoever, or whatever turned Hilda into a stone variant of herself. She wanted to be with her in the cave to protect her, and she hoped the spell could have done more than just see what a familiar saw. None of this was how she expected to find her. Everything felt better before she tried helping herself with the spell.
She sighed arduously. “Our best friend is a troll, David.” she snivelled, embracing the brunette tightly. In turn, David wrapped his arm around Frida and patted her back. He felt like crying too, feeling crushed in perhaps more ways than one, but he homed in on his friend’s dejection first and foremost as silence filled the air for a good long minute.
Frida then lets go of her grasp and rubbed her palms on her face. There was not enough time to feel frightened about having her expectations subverted. Her plan had been to know where and if Hilda was in danger, and all the boxes were checked.
“We need to tell Hilda’s mum where she is.” Frida said. “In case she runs off with Tontu and Twig to look for her again tomorrow, we have to tell her what I saw before she does.”
“Then let’s move.”
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Headcanon A: realistic
(kinda drawing on an AU I’m working on but) After the whole Stone Forest debacle, Frida has the idea to establish some sort of sign language system that humans and Trolls can use to communicate. There’s obviously some Trolls who aren’t antagonistic towards humans. Take the Troll with the camera bracelet, for example. That one just hung out for a while with her, David, and Gerda, after all. She thinks that they could possibly establish some sort of agreement between the two species if they could just actually communicate. Verbally, it seems impossible, so a shared sign language could perhaps work. (Hilda doesn’t need one, because for whatever reason, she can still understand Trolls as a human, but everyone needs a way to communicate.) Frida knows it, of course, but so does David, Gerda, Alfur, and Johanna, as well as several Trolls, as they’re the ones that interact with Trolls the most after Hilda.
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
Frida often uses her witchcraft to play pranks on the bullies of the town, especially Trevor. It’s not overt, obviously, but Kaisa has taught her several little spells that inconvenience the recipient. It may be something like your shoelaces refusing to stay tied, or always losing your keys, or forgetting your grocery list. Nothing actually harmful, but so, so, so annoying. If she’s feeling particularly vengeful, she’ll ask a Nisse to take one item and hide it in Nowhere Space. Like a sock so you’ll never have a matching pair of socks again.
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
Frida really doesn’t have the best relationship with her parents. She resents how strict they are, and it doesn’t help that they keep pushing her to do more and more and more. Their pride always comes with a qualifier- no I’m proud of you’s just because. She always has to do something perfectly to get their praise. As she gets older, she starts to hang out at Hilda’s, Tildy’s, and the library/Witch’s Tower much more than at home. After all, Johanna, Tildy, and Kaisa are much better at being family than her own parents. Frida knows wholeheartedly that her parents wouldn’t approve of her being a witch, either, and it’s just so much easier to be herself whenever she’s not at home. (She’s got sleep stuff at all three places just in case she doesn’t want to go home- everyone fully understands, and it feels so much better to be with people who love her unconditionally.)
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
It instantly puts Frida at ease whenever Hilda’s around. I would think that witches and Familiars have powerful bonds, so it just feels right to have her Familiar around at all times. It’s like having all parts of yourself be complete. That bond, as well, makes it so they have an emotional bond. They can feel whatever the other is feeling if the emotion is particularly strong, which makes it a bit easier to cast joint spells if you’re on the same page. (It also makes it harder to lie to each other, which, if your Familiar is Hilda, isn’t necessarily a bad thing.) It also makes it easier to coordinate a vandalism-against-the-Safety-Patrol mission if the kids & co. have split up- walkie-talkies aren’t great for that sort of stuff, anyway
Send a character’s name to receive four different headcanons
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ignore the fact that i just followed this account because i am silly but
love u earth <33
i literally just made this account don't worry libby, you are ALL GOOD QUEEN.
oh my god i actually don't know where to begin. i saw your blog pop up many times before i actually followed you (it's the honest truth okay) and i saw that you were mutuals with niss and i was like :o omg if niss is cool with libby then she must be cool!
THEN I LOOKED INTO YOUR ABOUT ME AND SAW 'leo rising' AND WENT 💳💥 💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥💳💥 AMAZING, PERFECT, SHOWSTOPPING, NEVER DONE BEFORE-
yeah... you were also vv close moots with a lot of my moots and they talked so highly about you! so i kinda knew that you were an incredible person even before i actually got to speak with you.
and i was super correct!! your energy was vv infectious and i wasn't surprised to find out that when i talked to you, you were also very much just a nice, fun and lively person to interact with. i seriously love hyping you up, i'm a libby stan 4ever 😍😍😍 i won't ever stan another tumblr user as much as i stan you <3
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wait- can i ask what happened? i literally logged into tumblr seconds ago :^
the gist of it is soupi, niss, basil, and i were joking around and a few anons took it seriously and started leaving horrible asks in both basil's and niss's inboxes.
i got angry and made a post because those are my friends and you never say that shit to someone. ever.
but I'm sorry that this is what you saw when you first logged on :((
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Get Back Up Chapter 3
Warnings: Mentions of abuse and nightmares
Anthony didn't know who that slim figure in the doorway was, but he didn't like him. Especially with the way (y/n)'s body flinched when his arm swung around her waist, reeling her into his chest. Her hands came up just in time to put a little barrier between the two, at last his strength broke her blockade and caused her to fall into his grasp. Yet, she still adores that sweet smile on her lips, her gaze fixed on the man holding her and in that moment Anthony couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why (y/n) is so caring to people.
When she enrolled into culinary school and had that roommate, a complete slut and a backstabbing bitch who made her life a living hell, (y/n) still treated her with respect and wanted to befriend her. In the end that bitch turned her back on her at every twist and corner. But, Cherri and him worked their magic and soon after her social life at that school went further down the toilet. (Y/n) found out a couple of days later and didn’t like how we handled the problem. However, she thanked us for thinking about her and to show her gratitude, took us out for lunch that day.
Yet with the help of the nightstand lamp he could see a bit in the dim room and he could’ve swore he saw the faint hue of red on her cheeks. However, in this case the man latched on her, didn’t look like he loathed her, on the contrary he held such adoration in his eyes when staring at her. It was when his eyes trailed over to him is when they turned hard and distasteful. The hate that seeped through his skin and consumed his frame, he could tell that this man didn’t see him in a light that a normal human should. His gaping stare was more on the lines of a predator staring down his prey, Anthony knew what danger lingered behind that leering look and that made him. . .uneasy. He tried to match his gaze with a harsh one as well until a split and sharp pain rang throughout the left side of his head. So, he took his gaze off the man and took a big gulp of the tea, which at this point the hot tea that was in his cup was slowly getting lukewarm and the position on the bed made him feel really exposed to this weird fucker.
He hated feeling weak and defenseless in front of folk and despised the way this new guy stared him down. Squaring his shoulders, even though it felt god damn awful to move right now, but he didn't want to take any chances with this questionable guy, even if (y/n) married him.
Motioning with his strong enough arm, he motioned to the brunette that just intruded in on their conversation.
"So, uh. . . Who the hell are you?" (y/n)'s eyes widened, rapidly shooting her head back and forth between us and to be honest he really didn't care if he sounded rude. He just wanted to fuck with him, just for the shits and giggles and it seem to phase the man for short second. “(Y/n) didn’t tell me she married a pimp and a good looking one at that.” Her eyes were the size of headlights which was pretty amusing, but he was gauging for more of a reaction from the menacing man standing next to her.
“Anthony!” Her voice raised a couple octaves before lowering it down to whisper, really broadcasting her motherly side right now. “You shouldn’t say something like that, especially for a first impression.”
He wasn’t gonna muster up any type of energy of fake kindness just to suck up to this son of bitch, not for (y/n) either.
“What, first impressions are for insecure high schoolers who need validation on whether they look pretty or not. Besides, he hasn’t told me off yet, so relax toots.” The corners of her mouth stretched out into a flat line and I could already sense her screaming ‘I’m done with your shit’ before she could even say anything. “Come on, (y/n) a little bit of harmless flirty won’t kill anyone and besides he seems fine with it.”,puffing out his chest the burning agitated growth in his lungs flared up, but he kept up this bouncy exterior to appear far from an injured animal.
“Don’t you worry my dear I only came downhere to see how you were doing this morning, yet found you here with. . .this. . .effeminate fellow.” Words fell through clenched teeth, leaving a dark atmosphere to fill the room. (Y/N) finally sensed the tone of the room and, so she latched on to her man's arm guiding him out the room.
“Come on, Al let's give Anthony some space,” a quiver in her voice and her anxiously attempting to pull his body towards the door, “he’s in very poor condition, right now and you & him bickering is just making it worse.” Successfully shoving him out the door, and before leaving she gave him a warm and soft smile. The door slammed soon after, he could still hear their bickering through his dazed and groggy state. Footsteps grew distant as they carried on down the hallway, voices muffled behind the walls in a way comforted Anthony. Compared to his home life he would wake up to his dad arguing with his mother or one the other family members that dropped by in the morning, he would slothfully fall out of bed knowing that the constant screech match wouldn’t end for an hour or maybe even longer on a bad day. Nonetheless, he drew comfort from the low conversation happening down in the next room. Laying on his side turned to face the door, not knowing if (y/n) was going to come back in with her bright smile, he could even go for a fake one. But, no matter what he tried to think of he kept emulating that bizarre man hovering over him with his overbearing and suffocating aura.
Anthony was so in thought that he didn’t even realize his mind was drifting off to sleep, his body sinking into the soft linen warmed by his body heat in cased in the thick stacks of blankets. He entered REM sleep in a matter of seconds, Anthony was back at home sitting at the kitchen table in his childhood apartment. His mother rushing back and forth, like a chicken with her head cut off, she ran around preparing for tonight's dinner. My sister Molly sat in front of the t.v. watching a cartoon show, Niss was leaning on the wall, his heated gaze directed towards the door, waiting for someone. The sun outside was, so bright and cheerful compared to our bleak apartment, outside he could’ve sworn he heard children laughter mixed with shoes hitting against the hard cement. A narrator or a small voice enters the enclosed space of the kitchen, his mother unfazed from the new voice speaking. He didn’t notice it before, but the voice seemed to be talking like they were speaking for a while now. They sounded like a chorus of different people talking at the same time, so serene, but assertive? As the voices were speaking it slowly grew darker and rougher, increasing in strength and volume ‘til the point of static rang against my eardrum. His head burst from the high frequency of the many voices, this time they spoke separately making it hard to concentrate on a single non existent body. The pain got so unbearable to the point of grasping at his own head and trying to cover up anything that led to him hearing this ear shattering noise. But, as soon as it started it soon ended, leaving a sharp pinging noise in the air, his face was wet from tears that stung his freshly scratched cheeks. A thump of a door swung shut, his brother moved into the kitchen swiftly, dad traveling in behind him. Taking a seat right in front of Anthony, he avoided eye contact with his dad trying to gain his mom’s attention, but she glued her face to the floor not even looking to meet his gaze when setting the plate of food on the table. His dad’s gaze was directly on him, the voices started speaking up again, yet this time it was only one particular, familiar voce.
It was his own voice talking back at him.
“Ya have to help her.” He automatically thought about his mother who gets hit every night by his father, but she died years ago. The dead don’t need our help anymore after they’re six feet under. “She needs your help, even if she feels safe.” He wasn’t following, he was mostly leering out the window, hating the freedom most people had when he was growing up. He listened to himself warn him, but something he said stuck out the most to him.
“He’s never going to let her go, he’ll kill her once he’s satisfied with her companionship. But, the demon has the yearn to feed on flesh and will get his way. You need to be sneaky and clever or he will kill you. Just like the others.”
The room fell in darkness, and he was surrounded by slippery stone walls. Looking up to the dark sky, rain water hit his face and he could barely see the outline of a silhouette peering over the walls of the cramped cylinder space. Anthony didn’t know why, but he called out for help, yelling til his throat was sore trying to yell over the loud rumbling of thunder. A bright flash of lightning flew across the sky, giving light to the figures' features and what he saw made him freeze in terror. What was supposed to be his eyes were clocks, his teeth were yellow and sharp, his mouth stretched out from ear to ear and his face looked like it was peeling from small creases of wrinkles. Flowing red and black hair soaked from rain pressed against his face, the man made his spine tighten. He couldn’t move, and what made his fear rise was his small chuckling, right then his head spun a full 360 and his limbs bent at weird angles as he slowly descended down the wall. He only stopped once situated, Anthony felt tears sting his face again, crying harder when he started moving directly towards him, and he hated the feeling of being trapped in this inescapable small and tight space. He was half way down, before he stopped again his smile growing even larger than what humanly could be done. The stretching of his skin left small bits chipping off and landing on his face, too afraid to even take his eyes away from the beast he kept the flesh on his terror stricken face. His mouth gaped open, strings of saliva stretched and fell and right when his gaping jaw was wide enough he let go of the wall allowing his disfigured body to fall straight towards him. His body was engulf in a warm encasing of hot flesh, turning his world dark once more.
Anthony woke up with a jolt the adrenaline in his veins kept the pain at bay as he rushed to the otherside of the room, before going to the door swinging it nearly off its hinges. He darted down the hall, with tears rushing down his face. He needed somebody to be near him, right now even if he felt like a child in the process he wanted, no needed comfort. Warmth radiated from the kitsch as he turned to see a whole family sitting down for breakfast. Three kids stopped eating to stare back at him, (Y/n) shooting straight out of her chair, he could only hear static right now, but he could see her face full of concern written all over it. Yet, the only thing he could keep his attention on was that brunette with the ever stretching smile.
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Ok lemme just explain the situation
So I was in a zoom call meeting w my therapist ok normal everything’s going good but like I’m bored so I’m using my phone but she can’t see
I’m messaging one of my friends and she was simping over yet another manga character and being whore knee AND I WAS LAUGHING AT FIRST AND THEN SHE WSHIWED ME A PICUTRW OF THE GUY AND MY GOD
SO THEN I GOT LIKE DISTRACTED AND MY THERARAPISTS WAS LIKE WHATS UP W THE BEHAVOOUR CHANGE AND I I COULDNT LIKE TELL HER WHAT I WAS DKING 1) BC I WAS ON MY PHONE DURING A SESSION 2) BC THE MESSAGES WERE NOT PG13
So I looked up and said “drugs” bc I PANOCKED. I AAID I WAS USING DRUGS TO MY FICKING THERAPIST NISS. MY THERAPIST.
SHE GOT SUPER CONCERNED IMMEDIATELY AND I STATTED PANOCKING MORE AND MY BRAIN REFUSED TO LET ME GET OUT OF THIS SITUATION SO I HAD TO EITHER BE HONEST OR MY PARENTS WOULD BE INVOLVED
So I TOLD HER THE TEUTH AND AHE HAS TO MAKE SURE BC DEUGS IS A PRETTY SRS TBING IG SO I HAD TO SHOW HER MY THIRSTY CONVO IM IN TEARS
The session is only meant to be an hour and a half. It lasted almost an hour extra.
I’m going dark again
NOOOO OH MY GOD IM CRYING 😭😭😭 WHY DID YOU RESORT TO DRUGS OUT OF ANYTHING?? YOU COULDVE SAID ‘ PORN’ AND IT WOULDVE BEEN BETTER THAN DRUGS 😭😭😭
i hope your therapist knows nothing serious is happening and it was a misunderstanding, oh god i hope your parents never hear about this BUT THATS SO FUNNY IM SO SKRRY 😭😭😭
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