#and then when herb got fired he actually walked

[ctitan98official]

Anonymous: Ignore this if you want. For Alcina’s long lost child au. What if Miranda had found reader years later after they were put up for adoption? Like could you image the angst potential when Alcina realized she failed to protect reader? Lol why cant I ever let this be left nice? 😂 I just really love the potential angst for this au, so much to work with!

Yes! Now, this is interesting. I’m going to hc Y/N as a S.T.A.R.S member in Raccoon City. Just pretend the raid at the Spencer Mansion happens now instead of 1998. The plot points are pretty similar to the original au, except Miranda’s still alive and Y/N is in S.T.A.R.S. Alcina’s long lost child au here! Let’s get into it!

You had just been invited to join the elite S.T.A.R.S team and you were heading out on your first mission.

Jill Valentine was put in charge of your training and you’d already learned so much from her. She kindly reached over to pat your leg as you and the team were transported by helicopter to the old Spencer Mansion.

“How are you holding up?” She asked you.

You smile and blush… You might have a small crush on her. “I’m good. Together, we can get to the bottom of this mess.” You told her, hoping to seem in control and not flustered.

As the helicopter got to its destination and the team jumped out, something seemed off about the atmosphere in the Arklay mountains. The usual ambience of animals and birds was noticeably absent. A weird coppery smell also enveloped the area.

Just then, what looked like mutated dogs and zombified people started surrounding you and the team.

“Look alive!” Chris yelled and began shooting at them.

You all began firing your weapons and cutting down the undead horde in front of you.

After a few minutes of close combat, Wesker ordered everyone to save their ammo and retreat to the Spencer Mansion on foot.

You looked around and saw that an incoming zombie was about to attack Jill, so you provided cover fire and shoved her out of the way, making the creature focus on you instead.

“Make a break for it, everyone!” You yelled and shot an incoming zombie head-on. “I need to kill some of these faster sons of bitches! You won’t get far with them chasing you. Go now, while I’m distracting them!” You yelled.

Wesker seemed all too thrilled to let you sacrifice yourself, so he quickly made an exit to the mansion.

The remaining S.T.A.R.S. members couldn’t believe Wesker just abandoned you all like that and they were reluctant to leave you. But, you assured them that you would just stay long enough to create a diversion, then join up with them at the mansion.

Chris hollered at Jill, Barry, Rebecca, and Richard to get going. Finding out what was going on at the Spencer Mansion was of the utmost importance. The five sadly left you to fend off the undead by yourself, but not before Jill frantically tossed you some extra ammo and herbs.

You were doing alright at first, but in the foggy clearing ahead of you, a strange being seemingly materialized out of thin air.

You got distracted looking at the unknown entity and a zombie clawed and scratched you when it got too close. You yelped in pain as blood ran down your neck from the wound, but you kept shooting and making progress on the undead.

As the mysterious figure got closer, you realized that it was actually a statuesque blonde woman dressed in weird ceremonial attire.

She had an air of calm about her and waved her hand, causing weird plant-like appendages to sprout up from the ground and kill the rest of the zombies.

You couldn’t believe what you just saw and warily walked closer to the woman. “Hey, thanks for the save. How did you do that?” You asked, holding a hand on your neck to stem the bleeding.

The woman just laughs coldly. “A mother’s love is very powerful.” She tells you, smirking. “You are but an insignificant pawn in my truly brilliant plan, however, it is nice to finally meet my own child.” She says with a wicked grin.

“Wh-what? What are you-” You tried to ask, but the woman suddenly grabbed you by the neck and injected you with a needle.

——————————————————————————

You ended up in Mother Miranda’s lab and she tortured you with painful testing and experiments. She wanted to test both your affinity to the cadou and if your body would quickly regenerate and recover after injury. If your body responded positively, she hoped you would make a good vessel for her Eva.

It seemed like you were there for months, but in reality, it had only been a few weeks.

Miranda kept you in a nasty cell and hardly fed you or gave you water.

You had started to lose hope of ever escaping, but one day, that changed.

Miranda had been out all morning, to your great relief, and the lab was finally devoid of your tortured screaming. At least it was quiet and calm for once.

But, someone new entered the lab. She was easily the biggest person you’d ever seen. She was elegant and wore the finest clothing.

You didn’t want to draw attention to yourself, but she spotted you immediately.

“Yet another poor prisoner.” She said sympathetically, though seemingly resigned to your fate.

You had nothing to lose so you said hello to her. “Hi.” You offered in a small but conversational voice.

“Well, it talks.” She says and smirks as she makes her way closer to you.

“Uhh… Can I ask what you’re doing here?” You question. You hadn’t seen anybody except Miranda in the lab before.

The stranger smiles at your curiosity. “I’m here to drop something off for Mother Miranda. What about you, little mouse?”

“I’m not quite sure…” You say, furrowing your brows. “Mother Miranda is experimenting on me. She says I’m special.” You tell her.

Alcina raises an eyebrow at this. Miranda hasn’t been so interested in a single subject in a while. She feels a wave of sadness as she remembers that her own child was also one of Miranda’s obsessions.

“Special, hmm? I’m afraid that’s not a good quality to possess around Miranda.” Alcina says and rolls her eyes at the blonde’s lunacy. The Countess’s devotion to Miranda had been quickly snuffed out when she had to give her baby up because of her. The scientist-turned-priestess had ruined her life.

“Miranda keeps saying I’m her child or something and that’s why I’m useful to her. Is that like a cult thing?” You ask, hoping to gain some insight.

Alcina’s golden eyes go wide. She looks at you intently. “What did you say?” She asks in astonishment.

You’re surprised by Alcina’s reaction. “Well, I was just saying that Miranda keeps telling me that she’s my parent and I’m her kid. I don’t have any family, though. This whole village is pretty much a cult, right? Is this her attempt to indoctrinate me?”

Alcina feels her heart rate increase. You couldn’t be…? No, that’s not possible. Or is it? Alcina shakily clears her throat and bends down to your level. “Wh-what is your name, little one?” She asks. Alcina named you before sending you away, and now, she wanted to see if you really were hers. Your name was the only gift she could bestow onto you. Her tone as she asks you this is much gentler than it was when you first started your conversation.

You’re kind of freaked out by the intimidating woman’s sudden change in attitude. “Oh, um, my name’s Y/N. What’s your name?” You ask.

Alcina’s eyes immediately fill with tears. She brings a hand to cover her mouth as she lets out a sob. It really must be you… Her baby.

You begin to sweat at the woman’s weird reaction and timidly reach out to grab her hand and offer comfort. “Hey, it’s okay.” You tell her.

Alcina gently holds your hand and places it on her cheek, holding it there. Wow. She can’t believe it. You’re back after all this time. “Y/N…” She weeps and takes your hand to kiss your palm affectionately.

You blush profusely at the tall woman’s forward actions. “U-umm!” You stammer in embarrassment.

“Y/N, you’re safe with your mama, now. Okay? I’m going to get you out of here.” She promises through her heart-aching tears.

Wait. Did she just call herself your “Mama”? What the fuck? Where were all these “Parents” when you were growing up?

Before you have a chance to respond, Alcina easily rips the cell door open, consequences be damned.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. How did she do that?

Alcina kneels in front of the cell and opens her arms to you. “Y/N… I’m your birth mother. I didn’t give you up by choice, I swear to you, draga.” She confesses. “Please, come here, my darling.” She requests and motions you towards her.

Holy shit. This isn’t real. It can’t be… You’d given up on this fantasy of finding your mom long ago. But, what if it is true? You start to breathe heavily and your heart pounds in your chest. You dizzily make your way over to the giantess before your knees give out and you fall right into her awaiting arms.

Alcina cries as she holds you close and presses kisses all over your face.

Your tired body melts at the warmth of Alcina’s hold. You cautiously hug her back and feel tears of relief begin to fall. You finally feel safe. Your body shakes from the force of your hard sobs.

Alcina stands up and holds you in her arms while rubbing your back and soothing you. “It’s okay, little one. I’m right here, Y/N. Mama’s right here.” She whispers.

The vampiress is racked with guilt that she didn’t protect you well enough. How did Miranda even find you? Alcina is certain she’ll never truly get over this or forgive herself, but she stuffs the feelings down for the time being and focuses on comforting you. Her baby needs her.

Alcina just holds you and murmurs gently in your ear for a few minutes before she realizes that Miranda will be back soon. She’s got to get you out of here as fast as possible.

For now, she settles on bringing you back to the castle. She’ll figure out what to do next once you’re in less danger…

Note: I’ve got to break this into another part, but this was a blast! I hope you enjoyed it!

Masterlist

#re8 #re8 village #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x y/n #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x y/n #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #resident evil imagines #mother miranda #jill valentine #chris redfield

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Twelve (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: In which there is the Starfall Ball of Asgard

Word Count: 4K (blessedly short for what I have been writing lately, so enjoy!

Chapter Warnings: Brief mentions of babies, insecurity, jealousy and one guy being an asshole to Sif, but overall a very fluffy chapter!

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69

A/N: A nice fluffy breather before the chapter when shit goes down! I have no life outside of this, so Enjoy!

The weeks flew by. Though you were worried about the slowness. Thomas and Jonathan were struggling through the spellbook, even with the translation. Loki had to be allowed in to help with certain words. Then not only was the spellbook but the intricate creation of the dagger. Then not only the dagger but the tracking invention of Thomas to where sometimes he had little burn stains on his fingers.

Yet…you enjoyed the repetition again. The normality. You now progressed with Loki to where changing light around helped! It wasn’t useful, but it was something. Objects could be used sensed and moved. The fire was now controlled from your hands to hit where you aimed. Even Sif-Sif-though you could never beat her, you got very close to once!

But now, all that people seemed concerned with- well, openly concerned with, was the Starfall ball. After frequenting the shops, you and Stella were wide-eyed at what beauty and bizarreness lay in the boutiques of Asgard. Yet you grew to appreciate it, be drawn to it. How silly both of you would look wearing frilly bustles amidst all of them! So you both picked your dresses after trying multiple ones from multiple shops.

The day before, you never saw so much bustle as the palace did. Not since the Coronation. Servants ran to and fro. Many ask the AllFather and AllMother questions.

Their footsteps and a crash distracted you in training where you looked away and hit a flame away from the target towards a duplicate of Loki’s.

You turned and saw the copy cowering in a corner.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” you cried

“At least it wasn’t actually me,” the god quipped.

Then it came to physical training You all were training to where you were sweating outside under the sun. Yet there was the delicious smell of the roast meats they carried through the halls. It made your stomach rumble as Jonathan asked for which punches. The curiosity of how food was made nearly got your mind off when trying swords with Hal.

Once it ended, Loki led you, Jonathan, and Robert to see the kitchens right after. The others said they would be occupied until the ball with other concerns. You walked down to see the herbs hanging from the ceiling. You heard a roaring fire. So many servants it was crowded. Then you turned to see Sif, leaning against a wall and folding her arms as she observed…which meant…

You turned your head and there in an apron on a table, kneading wet dough was none other than Stella.

“Why, what are you doing?” you asked.

“Merely baking! One of the servants needed some time away-she just had a baby. So I offered to help!” She answered.

Robert let out a laugh, smiling as he folded his arms to look. Sif gave him a warning glare to keep his mouth shut. Jonathan merely looked at her, the blonde hairs loose from her braid from movement. Yet her face was bright from the warmth and her smile genuine. He swallowed lightly.

“My dear, you are a guest here, you have no need to do anything,” Loki said.

“Oh no, I want to help! I want to show my appreciation! I want to be of use, to pay back everything all of you have done for me- what they all have done for me. Brigit here always makes my breakfasts from the day I arrived-” she gestured to a red-faced, stout woman with her grey hair in a bun putting dough over the fire- “so why not help her back?”

Robert looked at the flour that caked her hands, her apron, dress, and even some on her face.

“Do you want to get dirty?” Robert asked.

“She has another dress!” you laughed.

“Yes, and I’ll have plenty of time to change and prepare. Brigit will dismiss me in time, they know,” she reported.

Part of you felt a little guilty. Already so used to the servants doing everything. Back home, you always washed your own dishes and folded your own clothes. Here these people were making sure you had to never lift a finger for your own needs…Stella was right.

“Is there anything we can do to help? We are down one servant after all!” you said.

Stella nodded. Brigit walked over with her hands over her wide hips. She then handed over baskets full of silver flowers.

“The main hall could use more flower decorations. Seglinde always did that, but now she’s nursing her little one, AllMother bless her-they always need more hands there.”

“I have a gift of moving things around! I can put them in higher places- we all will be glad to!” you agreed.

The other seemed fit. Though Loki showed slight hesitation- he was their prince after all - he found a mere wave of his hand helped every flower be where it should be.

Two hours until the ball began. You and Stella both gathered in her room to prepare. She sat on a chair with a vanity and mirror that was in your room. Her face was washed and a blue shawl over her undershift, she combed through her hair. She now had a comb made of silver, little stars around the line then descending into the bristles. She then lifted, twisted, and set the strands into a bun. You kept handing her the pins to keep it in place. Just a few strands you curled to fall off her face. It didn’t take too long since her hair was only several inches past her shoulders.

“My, how nervous I am!” she confessed.

She walked over to hand you your necklace, helping you seal it from the back. A golden one that seemed like a shell on its strand.

“I am too- nervous but excited!” you agreed.

You glanced at the vase where it sat on a table. The blue flowers are still fresh and cared for. If it was Stella’s care for them or Loki’s magic that still made them look so vibrant, you didn’t know.

Once your necklace was good, you turned back to her. A naughty smile on your lips.

“May I guess it’s a certain fellow named Mr. Pine who is the cause of these nerves? The very gentleman I see you sometimes walking and talking with in the garden?!” you teased her.

She folded her hands, quiet for only a few seconds before she replied.

“Mr. Pine is- is a gentleman. He has been very kind to me this past month.”

Stella absent-mindedly just swiped at the few strands that snuck out.

“And he certainly is handsome!” you cut in, bursting into laughter. You began to undo the buttons of your own earth-toned day dress. You set it down on the bed, neatly next to the book both of you were currently reading.

“He…he is,” she agreed.

You got to the last button, moving to undo the bustle behind you.

“Oh, you’re besotted with him, Stella! Admit it!” you teased.

She turned over to you.

“But what of you being besotted?” she nudged with a smile.

You paused. The bustle is still on you.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

She had a small smile, her voice still quiet and soft, though her words, prodding.

“Whenever there’s training and Loki must fight with someone, you keep ogling him!”

You gave her a light swat on her arm and she laughed. You finally took off the bustle, leaving your own corset, shift, and last petticoats only on.

“Well, are you besotted for him?” she asked further.

Taking in a deep breath, you looked at her. A hand fluttered up to your neck, your mouth felt dry.

“He is a handsome man too like Jonathan, like all of them are. He certainly is…nicer than I thought at first. Not as villainous as I took him to be. A decent leader. He’s not perfect, though. He is vain and jealous of his brother so much that he makes poor choices. He has a devious streak and is fond of doing all sorts of things to get what he wants. But…but…oh, Stella, I don’t know what I think about him…” you sighed out.

“Well, you have time to figure it out,” Stella assured you. “I’m sorry if I asked-”

“Oh no! Don’t be! I just don’t know about him lately. He is a handsome man, and he can be pleasant…but no more,” you said.

She looked at the two dressing screens in the room.

“Alright…let us change to look like Asgardian ladies…” Stella said.

Finally, you both went behind each screen to dress. You hesitantly took off your layers of clothes- but when in Rome, do as the Romans do as they say. There was a shorter underskirt and shift without sleeves to wear under.

Then there was your dress-long and flowy and in a lovely shade of your favorite color. It was quite simple to get on. Quick, even. Such a nice material that felt soft to the touch. It had something like a belt in the middle made of the same material. The sleeves were off the shoulders. It is lovely and exposed, especially for the necklace. Long, drapelike sleeves that fell down from your arms like cascades. The skirts themselves both had layers that fell diagonally and then met the underskirt onto the floor. You found it was very swishy and twirly, perfect for dancing in. Then simple flat shoes- comfortable for the night of celebration.

“Are you ready?” Stella called out.

“Yes I am!” you announced. “Now three…two…one!”

Both of you walked out of the screens to see each other and then in the mirror. Bursting into more giggles and gasps of delight.

Stella’s was blue without question. Hers had no sleeves and exposed shoulders but a belt of gold and little embellishments down the skirt. Both of you stood amazed in the mirror. Both of you added whatever little touches needed to be done (“You must wear this necklace, Stella!”). So different. No petticoats or stockings but…you both looked like real Asgardian ladies now.

You complimented each other, and then with a big breath in, you headed out in time for the party to begin. Down so many flights of stairs you lost count and breath. Through the marble halls and out into the large courtyard. Flowers draped everywhere over the palace, on each column and corner.

The Starfall ball was beautiful. It was an open space with the stone floor and the sky above you. The skyline of the city was visible. Lights were floating in the air with magic. There was chatter and laughter. Servants brought on platters of delicious food and wine. You even noted a table had the bread your friend baked herself. Court musicians played with strings and harps- such beautiful music like you never heard. People sipped at their wines and ales politely. It was early for drunkenness (you would have to keep an eye on Hal). All were thrilled just to be invited to Valaskjalf.

How comfortable it was kept. You didn't feel like you wanted to escape inside from the chill. It was warm and comfortable- for it was a night one had to be out of doors. People wanted to be out and see the stars. To admire each other in their finery. Already there was a hall near the sky where there were dances. So many people clasped hands. Sometimes kissing cheeks lightly. It was so lovely and warm and special. Despite the jewels that seemed to drip from the bodices of several women, they seemed relaxed. You and Stella were awed by it.

Many people chatted like chimes. What did the people of Asgard do at balls? You didn't know if there would be a cigar room or a card table for the men like the dance hall back home? But so far, people were enjoying dinner, and getting partners. Musicians began the first dance as they went out to the courtyard. You sat down, far too hungry to think about dancing with such food.

But you noticed Stella excuse herself to go over somewhere.

Sure enough, you found your first friend. Dressed in blue Asgardian finery, Jonathan sat quietly in a corner sipping his drink. Watching, but stiff in his posture. Even for him.

"Why, what are you doing here, Mr. Pine?" Stella asked.

"I've never been one for parties- large ones. Sometimes I'd rather spend an evening with a good book,” he said.

"What kind of books? Do you have a favorite?" asked Stella.

He smiled, the tension in him relaxing.

"I have a few working through my old collection of them at last. When there's time. I am reading The Seven Pillars of Wisdom. It wasn't published in your time, but would you like to know what it is about?"

"Please do. Mr. Pine, what are books from the future like? What is the story?" she questioned eagerly.

"I shall tell you Stel-er, Miss Harris- I'm sorry..."

She shook her head, a small laugh in her voice.

"No, you can call me Stella now. We've met for long enough,” she assured.

He gave her a certain look, his small smile and focused eyes. You saw Stella’s breath hitch and her stop in place as he spoke.

"After I tell you what it is about- would you like to dance?"

"I'd be delighted,” was her reply.

Jonathan told her all about it. She listened to him with a focused, calm face. Deeply interested in every word he said. She only glanced at you when they went out to dance, you giving her a large smile.

Sif was already drinking wine as she walked out of the table. Some fellow with a toothy smile, greasy red hair, and leering eyes, said "Why, hello there, Sif! How about a dance?"

She gave him a gesture you were certain was vulgar. Then walked away. Drowning her wine before she gave it to a servant.

Still, he kept being at her tail, begging her. Deaf to her refusals. She kept got out her knife kept to her leg beneath her Navy blue dress, the slit fashing out and showing the blade. You could tell it was everything in Sif not to murder him right there and then. Even if she would be sent to prison that minute.

She then hurried over to Robert. He was swaying to the music, dressed in grey Asgardian wear. Sipping away at a drink. "Hey! Doctor! Dance with me! Please! Thor already has several in line and he won't leave me!" Sif demanded.

Robert nearly choked out his drink.

"Are you certain?" he asked.

"Yes! Please!"

She grabbed his hand, leading him to the floor as the next one began. It seemed to work- the fellow left Sif alone. Though you had to admit- they did dance naturally well together.

Indeed Thor was surrounded by many hopeful and ambitious princesses and someday queens to be. But he loved the attention and was smiling at it. It seemed he already had his dance partners for the whole evening planned out. Though at one point he did dance with Sif, and she smiled at him tenderly, gently. He smiled at her- with the same smile he gave to everyone. But as he left for the next girl, there was something of…sadness in Sif’s eyes.

Thomas even danced with you and you were amazed at how good he was, his black clothes with golden embellishments. All of you took a few lessons before the ball. The Baronet was the quickest to master them. Smooth, efficient, sweeping. He was born with wings on his feet like Hermes.

“Why, Miss, you were such a pleasant partner! It was a pleasure indeed!” he praised you.

Hal enjoyed the party but he was not a good dancer. He was inches away from stepping on your toes and apologized every time. You noticed his red clothes had a wine stain on them.

“Please forgive me, my lady,” he sighed.

“Oh- it’s alright Hal! As long as you have fun, it’s the point!” you said as they returned back to the party.

“Though, my lady- when indeed do these stars fall prettily as the good folk speak?” Hal asked.

From the party, Loki emerged. Decked in his signature color of green, though with bits of what seemed like gold armor. The finest Asgardian leather. Even if he wasn’t heir to a crown, no one would doubt his connection to the family.

“It’s in about five minutes,”

“Why, where have you been?”

“Making sure all was well with Mother and Father. There are some potential princesses and even princes Father thought I should at least be introduced to.”

You felt yourself get tight on the inside. You fought back the sour feeling.

“Though…I have missed all of your company. Why, YN Darling…would you like the next dance?” he asked.

You gave him a smile, though your stomach fluttered.

"Yes, I would,” you answered.

He opened his hand and you accepted it.

As he led you through the opening movement as the strings picked up, something hit you. You knew the steps but with Loki, it felt…natural. Easy. Free…youcould look into his eyes and keep doing it and not miss a step.

At one point you had to move like a waltz…and this meant him sweeping your arm in a half embrace as you kept a hand on his shoulder. You felt his touch and the warmth of his breath. He said nothing…but nothing needed to be said. You did look into his blue eyes. Just like Hal’s, Roberts, Jonathan’s, and Thomas’s. But his look on you was...soft, sweet even. Your own heart is racing. You start to feel a little dizzy, a little out of your body. Yet you kept dancing. You wanted to keep dancing with him.

That familiar light-headedness and ache settled inside you. You never wanted to stop dancing with him. It was all happening so quickly in time, but your mind was racing miles ahead.

Your mental shield flew up. You know you couldn’t give in to this feeling. It's infatuation at most, nothing more. Just what dancing with a good-looking and charming man will do to you. But no more, you told yourself.

The few minutes of bliss that will bring on so many months of torment. The little, cruel voice in your head, wiggling out in the corner of the beautiful dance.

You aren’t good enough for him. For anyone, it said. You hated that voice. You hated you felt this way. Hated that you hated it. That everything was so confusing at least…and frightening at most.

But for now...the little cruel could be dim. The movements of your body had to shut it out, making you move rather than dwell.

Yes, give in a little bit for now. Just a few minutes of happiness...nothing more. And then it will be done. The moment will be over. And you will not have this again, ever...so enjoy it. He is a friend to me, and nothing more, you told yourself, only half believing your own lies.

"You look as lovely as the stars above us,” was what he said as you went back to continue the next round of the dance.

"Thank you,” was all you could say.

All of a sudden there were gasps and points. The dancers on the floor all halted. Their chins lifted up above. Both of you paused your dance, despite the continuing music, and looked up.

The stars were finally falling through the sky. Many of them shone, leaving their dust as a path. So many- that it seemed the night was even brighter than the moon could ever make it. Their light sparkles dust through the reaches of the inky black sky like a ballgown. And so many of them! More than you could count, or even imagine!

You glanced over at Loki next to you. Starlight illuminated, everyone. And him. How beautiful everyone looked with the silver light overall. Including him.

The AllMother applauded and the others followed suit. Her eyes went over to the crowd, barely stopping at which faces she knew.

“Well- you all know the tradition. If we want luck until the next Starfall, you must keep dancing! So dance! All of you! Keep dancing!” she said with a smile.

"Now- if you wish good luck, keep dancing!" advised Loki in a hiss.

You gave him a nod, and you kept dancing.

Everyone poured onto the floor, even the AllFather and AllMother danced together. Stella opened her hand for Jonathan and she led him down as they picked up with the others. Thor was with a beautiful woman with dark hair and a triumphant smile like a cat that got the cream. He accepted it and she led him onto the floor. Sif and Robert were already dancing. You heard her mutter "shit! Keep dancing!" and before Robert could process it, their dance continued forcibly continued.

“I could use my magic to have it rain spiders on everyone and listen to them scream!” Loki teased.

“Don’t.”

“Or…” he continued.

You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Or…what else could you do?”

With his magic, he made it seem as if a few of those little stars fell down. Twinkling their lights, their glittering path of stardust through the crowd. They circled through, all delighted. One went around you, circling over your skirt. You held it and twirled it out and laughed- you heard him laugh too.

People reached out their hands. The glittering stardust a path through the air as they went through before they vanished like fireworks.

“That was stunning!” you said.

“You’re welcome…but we should keep dancing.”

As the stars swirled about lightly in the courtyard and above the sky, you danced with him. Light illuminating from above. Music guides your every step. Your limbs felt so light, and you were a little breathless. You felt the corners of your face lift up in an easy smile, and you saw one on Loki too.

Everyone paused a moment when the dance ended to admire the stars as they glittered and decorated through the sky. Shooting forth and falling through all sorts of patterns. All of the party guests couldn’t help oooing and ahhhing.

You had never seen anything so beautiful in your life. To think, after everything you went through...you could see this. This beauty. It made you glad to be alive, to be here.

Then, after some time, they paused and settled in the sky like normal. Applause broke out, even if the far galaxies could not hear them.

You stayed the length of the ball. Both you and Stella were bleary-eyed and your feet felt weary, your steps heavy from all the dancing. But both of you were so tired you broke into silliness, fits of giggling, and recalling everything that happened. She had a servant bring a cot and you both slept in the same room, recalling everything. The buzz of excitement wore through until it ran its course and sleepiness took its place. You both drifted off to sleep at a late hour.

You had never had a nicer time, the more you thought about it.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── It seemed everyone had slept in. It was the afternoon when Hal and Robert insisted on an emergency meeting. All of you went into the secret meeting room. The two had a book. “We were curious…and tired of sitting around and waiting. Guilty even. So we both researched what could help Thomas’s tracker…so here! We finally found a key to Thomas’s invention!” Robert announced.

All of you gathered forward as Hal brought the book forth and opened it. They went to a certain page. It showed an orb glowing in a bright, light blue. Then next to it an illustration of the cabin.

“Twas Loki who said only certain magic may assist the invention. And this certain magic has revealed himself as an orb,” Hal said, pointing to the pictures.

“The orb came from the cauldron- the very one we suspect Grendel had that revived him and kept him alive. It said here…if asked for, it will call out to the cauldron and give a signal. And the cauldron will respond,” Robert finished a triumphant smile on his face.

“And where, on the other hand, is this orb?” Loki asked.

“The Aevi cabin that resides in Jotunheim,” Hal answered.

Robert lifted up a finger in warning.

“But there’s a catch…” he said.

Robert pointed to the text. You began to feel tingly all over, despite the slight weariness from the late night.

“It says here that the cabin will reject all those who don’t have magic. Perhaps the being was a spellcaster who wanted to use it and only wanted it for themselves. And most Frost Giants aren’t magic wielders…so it was placed there. Those who cannot use magic will be blocked out, unable to enter…”

There was a pause. All eyes went to you and Loki. You both took in a breath as the trickster god's eyes met yours. Then he released it in his usual smile and half laugh like an exhale.

“Well, my dear, it seems as if the two of us are headed to Jotunheim.”

#loki my beloved #tom hiddleston #angst with a happy ending #fanfiction #loki fanfiction #hiddlesverse #tom hiddleston characters #carrie writes #tom hiddelston loki #dammit hiddleston #twhiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #loki fic #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki x fem! reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x fem! reader #loki mcu #loki mcu imagine #fic recs #loki marvel #stella ransome #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses au #crimson peak #thomas sharpe

[hopeforkitten]

I want to marry Raphael's-warlock-Tav concept, so here's a backstory with a super sweet Haarlep. Coverage of the course of affairs before her gingerbread house is crushed by tentacles.

"I wonder if this is your initiative or are you just following Raphael's instructions?"

As always, Tav woke up on red silk in the House of Hope. She sat up on the bed and watched Haarlep's careful steps. He was obviously going to wake her up later. In his hands, the incubus held a tray of food, a little favorite for the Tav from the banquet hall.

"Which of these do you like more?"

Tav raised her finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture

"Um, Raphael loves me so much that he orders you to do it. And do you love me so much that you follow orders with such a satisfied face?"

Haarlep snorted in displeasure,

"You overestimate Raphael's concern. And you underestimate my attention, honey."

The tray landed quietly on the table on the balcony, next to a plate of fruit.

"It's very consistent on Raphael's part not to let his subordinates sleep and then send them on errands"

"As if this is the first time this has happened"

Tav sat down on the bed with her feet on the floor.

She got up and walked slowly to the balcony, yawning and stretching, and Haarlap met her in the middle of the way. He bent down to kiss the girl on the forehead, he moved to the side and hugged her to him with his arm around her waist. Haarlep's touch was as natural as the feel of a light nightgown on her body.

"If I were him, I wouldn't let our little princess leave this house,"

Tav sleepily clung to the incubus, inhaling its smell of fire and light herbs, it was refreshing.

"There are many interesting things outside the house"

"I hope to hear a story about them when you return"

Haarlep released her waist and traced a line with his fingers over her shoulders as she walked away to the balcony.

For a while, the girl preened and had breakfast, simultaneously studying the papers left by Raphael.

"What a charm, it looks like he wanted to pit two groups of mercenaries, but they began to cooperate,"

Tav read the notes sitting at breakfast like a morning newspaper, then voicing everything interesting to Haarlep, bored in the background.

"Both leaders have signed contracts of diabolical luck, but they reluctantly fulfill Raphael's wishes. I need to plant evidence against each other and have a clear conversation with one gang."

"He sends our kitten to a bunch of mercenaries... Madman"

"The work is actually extremely rough, it's not Raphael's handwriting"

Tav frowns at a piece of paper, holding a cup of tea in one hand.

"Perhaps at this time you appeared in his life."

Haarlep was lying on the bed, his head had fallen off the edge and he was looking at Tav upside down.

"It's prosaic that now I'm solving the problems that have arisen"

"The devil takes away debts, everything is natural"

Tav goes to get dressed to the locker. He wears only elegant red heeled boots and straightens up. She clicks her heels loudly and all the other equipment appears on her, including a cloak and a sword on her back.

Tav happily examines her costume and looks at Haarlep with a question.

"How do you like it?"

"A good trick, if you do it in the opposite direction, I will be delighted"

He rolled onto his stomach and rested his head on his hands.

"I have no doubt about it. But not now. Bye, dear"

"See you later, dear!"

Haarlep briefly waved after the girl who was leaving the boudoir.

Tav was perplexed when the group of mercenaries began to retreat back in fear. Of course, the summoned cambion in war paint and with wings spread out looked impressive, but he was here throughout their short conversation. They so successfully managed to catch them in full force and in an open area, nothing will interfere with the destructive fire spells of the Tav. The gang rushed back and the girl began to turn at a strange noise behind her.

The sun was now blocked by a huge flying object with long tentacles. Instantly, images of similar things in a book in the archive flashed in her head, which did not interest the warlock at all. The life forms described in it were so different from everything she had seen that she did not want to believe in their existence.

The last thing Tav sees is the cambion raising his spear arm against the tentacle approaching with terrible speed and the girl covers her head with her hands in an even attempt to defend herself.

In an instant, she finds herself in a narrow capsule, an unpleasant image and a disgusting smell of mucus and flesh hits her eyes and nose, which makes the girl turn off.

#raphael bg3 #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #haarlep #haarlep × tav

[dying-acc-idk-man]

Okay it's me, the "au masterpost" anon. Copy and pasting cause the info on google docs and connected to my personal email so uhh here it is:

- Characters -

Scar: avid adventurer. looking for Grian, one of the most well-known and mysterious adventurers who just… retired one day. wants to get advice about adventuring and combat. does not know Grian is flower folk.

Grian: runs a flower shop, used to be a formidable adventurer (see further notes below). has a minor rivalry with a gardening store across the street. Collabs with the coffee shop for limited drinks

Mumbo: grian's coworker who's very entertained by the scar antics and occasionally teases him about it. often seen with a broom and dustpan as grian “sheds” so much 

Bdubs: runs a coffee shop, mainly works as a barista rather than a manager as he’s short staffed. knows all the great gossip in town although he rarely gossips himself. dislikes Scar as he holds up the line when venting about his crush on the flower boy. Collabs with the flower shop for limited drinks.

Cub: Scar’s traveling buddy, was the one who found out what town Grian retired to.

Pearl: a witch who runs a crystal/herb shop. nobody knows where she came from. one day her shop was just there. nobody questioned it.

Cleo: runs a small pawn/thrift shop with Joe. was a pirate before she drowned. Joe brought her back against both their wills and now she’s his problem

Joe: former sorcerer who quit after he was forced to resurrect a dead pirate so some people could question her. the two ran away and now run a small pawn/thrift shop together

Doc: runs a small gardening/produce shop across the street from Grian. also a retired adventurer, lost his arm and half his face after winning a duel he was supposed to lose.

Ren: works at the gardening/produce shop. werewolf, just becomes a big dog when he turns.

Impulse: helps run the village inn when he’s not trying to keep his cousins out of trouble. dwarf who's the go-to when it comes to knowledge about different species of people. usually busy running the front desk and does all the heavy lifting.

Zedaph (satyr) & Tango (fireborn): Impulse’s cousins. help around the inn occasionally, but are often on long adventures out of town

Gem: satyr who owns the village inn. Zedaph’s sister and Impulse’s cousin. usually busy with housekeeping.

- Grian flower notes -

When sick: flowers closed off and in a budding state/wilted

When scared: thorns starts to surround and wrap around him- does hurt

When flustered/happy: large growths of red flowers that tend to fall off easily

When upset: blue flowers grow when sad, small violet clusters when anxious, and large orange flowers when angry

Additional skills before retirement: plants helped him sense others around (it only works when he’s in like an area where plants are naturally made like forests and such), his flowers would also attract his victims and prey, from how pretty they are, leaving a trail, or even the smell (same smell every time).

Ideal date: walk around in places with pretty structures or land

Weakness: fire

- Event notes -

Flower crowns

Scar injuring himself to get rare flowers

Scar vents to Bdubs, Grian vents to Bdubs, Bdubs sits back and enjoys the show

Scar learns the backstories of some of the village folk

Cub, Bdubs, and Mumbo make a “these two are super clueless and keep venting to us” club. Cub is the only chill one there.

-

(Essentially, scar and cub would stay in the inn, and through a series of events Scar would learn about the the shopfolk and a not-so-slow burn romance would happen between him and Grian (the slow burn is becuase they take so long to actually confess)

will I ever get the motivation to write this? i have no clue. am i gonna share it anyways? yes. yes i am.

Also 90% of this stuff I actually got combing through the au tag so props to the other askers who helped this au actually happen

AAAAAA WOW YOU GOT MAJORITY OF IT YEAH AND I LIKE THE ONES YOU HAVE IN MIND FOR THE OTHERS HAAAHHA

i should make a full masterpost too at this point but I'll have to link it to my pinned post currently, unless im insane enough to make a separate blog of it (which i most likely wont because im too stupid to fully come up w a lot of things //slap, unless you guys rly want AHAHA)

though this is rad yes thank you my small brain wouldn't comprehend

#long post #lunastarseeker #ask #sleepy floral hermit au

[mysteriouslikeness]

I don’t know how to format on tumblr but uh-

Hi I’m dumping my Drabble from Elesa fall au

For some context of This AU:

Ingo fell to Hisui , has been gon a good two years. Then elesa fell when it was trying to get Emmet, leading Emmet down a rabbit hole to try and find them both knowing now what actually happened to his brother (he assumes after Elesa got taken that way) Elesa has memories, ends up in Diamond clan. Meets Ingo by chance and he can’t remember her but thinks she’s his lover (this is Elesa x Ingo and he never actually confessed before he fell) they both rekindle that love and try and find a way back to Emmet. Unfortunately they had a little too much rekindling and now have a baby on the way so all attempts to figure out how to go back stopped (especially after Ingo got desperate and hurt himself in his desperation).

This Drabble is from my OCs perspective. Feivel is who nursed Ingo back to health and was his friend through thick and thin. He was the only one told they they are from the future. He is Calabas apprentice of sorts but mostly travels to keep supplies flowing into Pearl clan.

>>>>>>>>>>>The Unseen Stars<<<<<<<<<<

It was raining in the Feildlands, the sky was covered in a soft blanket of grey. It was a light shower but it had gone on for several hours. There was plenty of mud on his boots as the ground beneath him tried to suction him there, damp with mud from a constant traveled path. The warm air despite the rain spelled for storms, the quiet rumble of a distant anger echoed across the land, faded to a soft hush by the time it reached Jubilife village. Feivel had made it to the village safe and sound, he’d gotten rather wet, the moisture was starting to soak in deeper to the under layers of his Pearl clan attire.

The River that flowed through the village was rising and active as he passed the bridge to the houses. In years past he would find his way to the other side, welcomed by uncaring eyes or not at all. He stopped at the door and paused to pet the wet fur of his companion. “Go find someplace dry.” He whispered to the Wyrdeer. The beast let out soft huffs as her dark eyes gazed at him before turning to leave, she was a welcome help in guarding the town, the little walls that had a roof made for perfect cover for a storm. The moisture mostly slid off her fur anyways, so Feivel wasn’t too concerned about her out in the rain.

With his final goodbyes he slid open the door to the house. It was quiet, he’d missed dinner it would seem. Time was hard to tell when there was no sun or stars for guidance. The only indication of time he has was the dying embers of the hearth in the dim room. He sighed softly as he slid the door closed behind him. He took his shoes off and set his things down, dusting off some rain that was still on his garbs to let it drip away in the area before the house began.

After a moment he stepped up into the house, the soft sound of socks on wood and creaking floorboards filled the air accompanied by the pitter patter of rain on the roof. He walked past the kitchen into the bedroom, tired silver eyes met his. Ingo was holding tightly to Elesa, who was fast asleep in his arms, woken by the sound of Feivel entering. He’d become much lighter of a sleeper recently with Elesa expecting their child at any time. There was a pause of quiet acknowledgment before Ingo closed his eyes again and nuzzled his face back into Elesa’s hair. Now that Ingo knew he’d arrived he went from their room to go start the fire back up, gently giving it a log to last a short time before he too fell asleep. As quietly as he could he got the wood burning, striping off his outer layers and setting them out to dry. He sniffled softly as he sat down cross legged and watched the small flame dance, the distant thunder creeping closer.

In the morning he’d make them breakfast, check on Fujie, and buy them some more firewood… after that just process the herbs he’d gathered on the way. A simple day for a simple man. Feivel smiled a bit, he’d walked into a dark house many times before, built fires and cooked food for an uncaring man who supposedly was his father…. It had felt empty. It was nights where the darkness would consume him regardless of how bright he made the hearths fire. The brightness was never the light he needed, but a rage that burned and lashed out trying to consume, just as the darkness was. The room in his fathers house was the predator and he was the poor prey caught in the jaws of mediocrity. Lifeless. A home with no soul and only judgements. He can hear his father say in the back of his mind not to get the floor wet. The task of course was impossible, little drops had followed him through the house…. Not a peep from Ingo. He’d not said a word but with the look in his eye, the bother to check, he knew if something was wrong Ingo would have gotten up. He was acknowledged. No words needed to be spoken between the two men after all. They had held each others lives in their hands. On the mountain in the Icelands so many years ago, in youths haze of memories, he knew his father didn’t run to look for him in the snows that fell in the avalanche. He wondered if that was the weight he felt in the air when he’d gone to stay at his fathers house, the weight of the snow.

A dash of light caught Feivels attention looking at the door, a rumble soon followed. The house he was in now carried no weight. There was no darkness, angry fires or invisible snow. Just the soft bubble of anticipation. The room wasn’t dark, and the fires were gentle, Soon there would be a new life and a cry filling the air of the house. A family would say it’s first hellos to a baby. Ingo and Elesa had come a long way, and as a healer he wanted to be there for them. He shifted to lay down on the floor next to the hearth watching the fire dance and eat the log for nourishment. Waving little hellos and getting excited to find more parts to cling onto.

This house, was undeniably, a home. Full of life. Full of love. As he closed his eyes he could see Elesas smile and ingos bright eyes as he greeted them in the morning, like he’d done since they first welcomed him to stay in their house after it was built. The house was so welcoming and warm…. But he knew it wasn’t home for them. They had fallen through space and time to get here. What did their home feel like, he wondered. Did it feel like he felt with them? He knew they searched as best they could, rushing into danger trying to find a way back home…. It wasn’t till Elesa fell with child that they stopped and settled into building some life here. They Grounded themselves to a home in Jubilife. If they found a way back, would the house feel so warm? The thought left him feeling empty. Would he return to that darkness he knew all too well? He’d never thought much about his future up until recently. He wanted to know the warmth they longed for…. He wanted to know and follow them to whatever embrace it was that was on the other side. He wanted to step into the other side from a time far in the future, even if he was to turn to dust the moment he did. He could scatter himself in the winds of the world they called home and settle peacefully in the lands that gave life to Ingo and Elesa. He’d be happy just to nourish the flowers on the hill for one spring in their time.

The fire shifted and fell, the ash dotting out parts of the fire that once were stronger. He felt a bit cold as he drifted to sleep on the floor, wishing on stars he couldn’t see that there would always be warmth for Ingo, Elesa and the child they were to have.

#submas #pokémon ingo #subway boss ingo #sbms #warden ingo #pokemon #submas writing #pokemon elesa #pokemon ingo #pokemon subway boss #pokemon legends arceus #Pokémon writing #elesa pkmn #gym leader elesa #elesaxingo #nimbasabattleshipping #Elesafallau #Pokémon Drabble #they have a kid named Alina :D #Emmet will be gay with Feivel #they will adopt kids! #this is true in all aus they become big happy family

[slut-and-falcon]

Wicked headcannon

Elphaba isn’t allergic to water- she’s scared of it.

When she was a young child, Nanny tried to drown her. And Elphaba’s mother was never sober due to taking a variety of herbs and alcohol (which young Elphaba would interpret to be water because it’s clear). So it creates this deep rooted trauma in her mind that manifests as a deep fear of water.

This phobia is to the point that she sometimes panics and feels pain when water touches her even though it’s not causing actual damage (neuroplasticity but in reverse!).

And we also see this manifest in her behavior- she doesn’t wash her hair often so it’s usually tied up due to be oily. He clothes are ragged because they aren’t rinsed in water enough to avoid getting stiff from soap, and she tries to harshly rub the stiffness out with a wash board causing the fabric to ware.

Before Shiz, her nails always have white flour or dirt under them from avoiding excess time washing her hands. So she starts wearing gloves whenever she does the chores to stop needing to wash her hands. (Nessa thinks it’s to hide the green, Frex just is thankful it’s actually hiding the green)

Fiyero comes barging into Elphaba’s life, and comes from a diverse region where water is sometimes rare. And he’s sympathetic to her avoidance of water. He quickly learns she won’t talk about it, and takes his suggestions as criticism of her hygiene. (She uses coconut oil to wash her self, baking soda to clean her hair and teeth, and milk to bath in when necessary thank you very much)

Realizing she likes books and learning, he starts slowly suggesting some anthropological books about the dry regions of the Vinkus, knowing she would eventually read about the recorded water alternatives. He also starts practicing some of the techniques he grew up with- like using oil to clean his hands and tools, using powders to clean up spills, using dry exfoliation, etc, so that she will learn by observation. And also she will figure out that he knows stuff that might be helpful for her.

Time skip- Fiyero and Elphaba are together and he’s learning more and more about her everyday. In a vulnerable moment, she shares her fear of water and how she was drowned as a child, and everything clicks into place for him.

So he slowly introduces her to water in a positive way- using it to cool his canteen from the inside and then setting it against her face when it’s got outside. Or using it to water color berry paint pictures on rocks for her (because of course he does and it’s cute af), and eventually using it to comb out and detangle her hair for her without the water touching her scalp but it feeling very good.

And little by little coaxing her to jump into puddles with him, to enjoy the sound of rain while they are sheltered, to look forward to the rainbows.

Eventually he gets her to walk through a stream (previously he would carry over over because that’s hot af ngl), and then again but barefoot, and then they are wading into shallow water, but never putting their heads under. Fiyero takes the opportunity to make these good experiences (*wink wink*), and also starts to help her wash her hair without submerging her head. He even braids her hair while it’s wet so it dries in controlled waves that she adores.

He also makes sure their drinking water doesn’t look like the clear alcohol her mother drank- mixing berries and roots into it to change its taste and color.

And in return, she is in charge of the fires and kindling while they camp since he’s afraid of it.

#elphaba #fiyero #wicked book #fiyeraba #wicked #wicked movie #wicked musical #fanfic #headcanon #fiyeraba is my otp #they’re a queer couple that pass as straight #fae and yero #fiyero is pan #headcannon #headcannons #listen i love them #i’m back bitches

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: The Epilogue, Version Two

Like all good writers, Tolkien couldn’t quite make up his mind how he wanted to write this part. Once again tagging @lady-merian and thanking her for her patience X-D

Jirt’s Text

“…with many pauses for thought he was writing in his slow round hand…” I chose to believe this refers not only to the printed script but to the actual hand that’s writing it X-P

*Smash Bros title screen* Primrose joins the battle!

It’s Elanor’s birthday :-D

Elanor has red-gold hair confirmed

SHE CALLS HIM SAM-DAAAAAAD TTuTT

AND WALKS UP AND HUGS HIM AS HE WRITES

Sam: Only you have heard the whole Book more than once. Elanor, being Very Precise: Three times.

Hello yes Elanor is adorbs and I love her

Mirkwood is called Greenwood now!

MERRY WENT TO VISIT EOWYN IN HER WHITE HOUSE

MERRY GOT TO HANG OUT WITH EOWYN AND BERGIL AGAIN I AM LIVING

MERRY SR. IS GONNA GIVE MERRY JR. A PONY FROM ROHAN

I WILL ACTUALLY CRY

Sam, sighing: “These questions and answers aren’t fit to go in a book like that. :-(” Meanwhile, Sam, literally in a book:

BOOKCEPTION

“Mr. Meriadoc might help me. He’s clever at writing, and he’s making a splendid book all about plants.” Confirmed: Merry is an herb nerd and I would die for him

Sam still says Elanor is just as pretty if not prettier than her flower, and she’s still like “okay Dad” LOL

“Though it’s over, as we say, things don’t really end sharp like that.” Way to elbow the readers for criticizing your 13,594 endings, Tolkien

“I think it was very sad for him. And for you, Sam-dad. For your treasure went too.” HI HELLO YES OKAY IT IS FRODO TIME

YOUR TREASURE holy honey-nut feelios i die

“It was sad, Elanorellë. It was, but isn’t now.” (Tolkien I see you but I’m still gonna write angst and you can’t stop me ‘cause you’re dead)

Sam takes comfort in the fact that Frodo got his reward, and he himself got abundant reward as well. “I am a very rich hobbit.” And one more thing:

“Before he went Mr. Frodo said that my time maybe would come. I can wait. I think maybe we haven’t said farewell for good. But I can wait.”

*SCREAMS INTO A PILLOW*

WAIT. ELANOR WANTS TO GO WITH HIM. “I shall not part with you, like Arwen did with Elrond.”

HOLY PRECISION SHOT TO THE DAD-FEELS, BATMAN

Okay okay okay if you don’t have this book, you’re not gonna believe me, but I swear this is a 100% verbatim quote:

Elanor: Good night, Sam-dad. But… Sam: I don’t want good night but.

I freakin’ love Lord of the Rings 🤣

Elanor “spied” and saw Sam receive the scroll from the King! Just like the Conspirators spied on Frodo and the Ring! And Sam goes “well that’s karma if I’ve ever seen it” LOL

Okay so he went with the Fullwise name here

Elanor: When should we get ready? What will we wear? HOW MANY CURTSIES SHOULD I DO??

Sam: You wanna see elves, kid? You’re gonna see elves. Elanor: 🤩

Sam thinks the fire burns lower when Elanor leaves ;u;

This is the second time Tolkien makes fun of the hobbits praising the predictable clear weather at the end of March as “something unusual for the season”, which tells me he was very fond of that joke

Yay! He went with the singing version! X-D

And still ends with the sounds of the Sea. ✨Foreshadowing✨

Christopher’s Notes

Okay Tolkien’s “resumé” of the end of the book here gives some fascinating insights

“But Frodo cannot be healed. For the preservation of the Shire he has sacrificed himself, even in health, and has no heart to enjoy it. Sam has to choose between love of master and of wife. In the end he goes with Frodo on a last journey.”

He sacrificed himself…but has no heart to enjoy it… :-C TT~TT

“To Bilbo and Frodo the special Grace is granted to go with the elves they loved – an Arthurian ending, in which it is, of course, not made explicit whether this is an ‘allegory’ of death, or a mode of healing and restoration leading to a return.”

No wonder the ending is so haunting. Is it death? Is it healing? It’s both, and it’s neither, and it’s incredibly mythical and storybook-ish. Holy cow.

Also thought this was funny:

“Hobbit-children were delightful, but I am afraid that the only glimpses of them in this book are found at the beginning of vol. I. An epilogue giving a further glimpse (though of a rather exceptional family) has been so universally condemned that I shall not insert it. One must stop somewhere.” Tolkien really be like #I’mNotBitter lol

#samwise gamgee #elanor gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #assorted thoughts

[ghostfan3]

I said I wouldn't publish this short story but my friend convinced me to do it... It's all on you @negativerockstar (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

I hope that @skylertheminish forgive me for using characters of Ceru, Arma and Carer in my short story.

It's basically the short story to the picture I posted of Cassandra the Mismagius trying to adopt the smol knight.

"Galar, region know for it's league, tea, extensive history and many castles and ruins around the land. Willow was mostly interested in ruins aspect of the region since many ghost types made they home in them. She really wish she had time to study local ghost living in this ruins, but unfortunately this was not the reason for her current visit to the region. Local organisations specialized in pokémon rescue, call her asking for help with tough case of ghost type that proof to be too difficult for their staff. She made an appointment with a representative of the organisation to visit the following day to assess the situation and possibility of taking this pokémon under her care. At the moment she was doing her best to be ready just in case in this difficult sytuation, but with her trusted team she manage to get everything she may need. Warden the Dusknoir got all kinds of medicine and herbs they may need to calm the overwhelmed with sytuation ghost. Onyx and Jade, her knight fire brothers got all kinds of foods and ingredients to cook a delicious meal. Right now the only missing in action was Cassandra the Mismagius who was supposed to bring berries and sweets. Willow was walking around looking for her, hoping she just got disorientated in the crowd. Shade her trusted shiny Gengar, her ace and best friend try to calm her down as she started to panic a bit. Thankfully, she spotted a familiar witch pokémon among the crowd, only to notice her in company of particular kind of pokémon.

-" You must be joking..."- Willow quickly approached her Mismagius who was sharing bought berries and sweets with young pokémons. Shade was fallowing behind in Willow's shadow a knowing smile on his face.

-"Missss?"(Can we?)- Cassandra ask floating beside two small knights as Willow stop in front of the group and took deep breath.

-Oh for the love of Arceus... NO! You can't adopt them!- Willow said tiredly, after yet another attempt by Cass to adopt some baby pokémons. Worst part the little ones weren't even aware of what was going on.

Willow breath big sigh of relief when the trainer of the little ones was not that far away. He was kind young man that even have small laugh when white hair girl explained the sytuation to him. He even allowed himself to be invited to a afternoon meal at a nearby café as a apology for all the fuss. A ghost specialist bought both meal for a gentleman and little ones. She smile as small knight were playing with both Cassandra and Shade while she and their Carer have a pleasant small talk. She must have caught a lucky strike from Victini since the Carer of small knight work for organisation that call her. After explaining who she was, young man rember that someone mentioned to him that they call a specialist to help with recent ghost type case. Before soon conversation came to topick of little Ceruledge and Armarouge

-"Premature evolution you say...."- Willow look at little Ceru with sadness in her eyes. She wished it was a first time she heard of such think but unfortunately it wasn't. Her memory quickly moved to the little Froslass she took care after taking her from trainer who evolved only few hours old Snorunt, poor baby girl at lest she was doing better now. That at lest explained how such young Ceruledge could actually exist. Arma story wasn't better.

-"They doing better now, but there is still a long way to go"- said the Carer.- "Anyway you look a bit lost earlier, are you not familiar with city?"

-"Not particularly"- Admited Willow.-"Most of me time in Galar was usually spent in ruins and other wild areas, I'm not familiar with city layout accept for shops and pokémon centers locations."

-"If you like I could be your guide for now and give you a lift to organisation headquarters tomorrow"-Carer offered.

-"Oh? I would not want to cause problems..."

-"It's not a problem, beside Ceru and Arma seems to be already fond of your Pokémon, I'm sure they would like to play with them again."

White haired girl couldn't deny it. Cass already in her big auntie mod adopted small knights into their little family. Willow thank Carer for a offer and promised to repay him somehow. But before she could ask what she can do in return, she felt a tap on her leg. She looked down to noticed Ceru looking at her with her arms up. How she could not fulfil this adorable request? She pick small Ceru on her arms and was meet with happy chirps in return. Look like her pokémon got her into another big adventure with new friends again. Willow giggled as she couldn't argue this adventure definitely wouldn't be boring one."

#ghost type #trainer willow #pokemon #mismagius #gengar #dusknoir #armarouge #ceruledge #smol knights #skylertheminish

[triskhellion]

Irie

Rated: Explicit (4.4k)

Relationship: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale, Original Characters

Tags: POV Stiles, Getting Together, Jamaica, Gratuitous Nyammin' & Jammin', Patois/Patwah, Explicit Sexual Content, Hickeys, Song Lyrics

Summary: The one where Stiles and Derek go on an errand for Deaton and have some time to kill in Jamaica. They thoroughly enjoy themselves eating, swimming, relaxing, and exploring the island…and then each other.

Soundtrack

Super Blue Moon prompts: Joy, Grain, Red Haze & Summer (Mead Moons prompts: Aphrodisiacs, Claiming, Herbs, Hot & Revelry)

TW Anchor Down (Full Moon Round) prompts: Word - Unstoppable, Phrase - “Grab the bull by its horns," Song - "Feel Good Inc.," Trope - Roommates, Picture - Cove @tw-anchor-down

Usually when Stiles got a message from Deaton about some errand or another it ended up with him and Derek searching for an artifact buried in Back of Everywhere, North Dakota during the dead of winter or rifling through a dusty pile of old papers in a dank, foreboding basement in Romania while being stalked by a cāpcāun or something.

But not this time. For once it appeared they were being sent somewhere warm and sunny in service of the supernatural. They were headed to the Caribbean to fetch half a dozen varieties of rare and apparently invaluable live plants for the druid that needed to be transported carefully under specific conditions once the specimens were ready.

What’s more, because they were on their way back from visiting Cora in Ecuador instead of trekking all the way back to Beacon Hills and then turning around to fly south again at most a week later they were just going straight to Jamaica and would have some time to kill. 

Beverly, an Obeahwoman whose network of multidisciplinary magic practitioners they’d gotten to know during their frequent trips to the Bay Area, lit up with excitement during their video call when she heard they’d be going to the country of her birth. She not only had recommendations for them, but tips and resources as well.

“Look, the big all-inclusive hotels and the curated activities are fun, not gonna lie, but there’s a lot more to the island than what you can find in those expensive, insular spaces if you’re interested in a bit of adventure or some actual peace and quiet,” she told them, dark eyes sparkling.

He and Derek had looked at each other and grinned. On one hand, there was something to be said for lounging around and having a parade of colorful cocktails pass by — he was a year past the drinking age of 18, of course he checked — but on the other, an adventure that didn’t involve something trying to kill them for once or some secluded relaxation would be nice. Plus, he was sure there were lots of other places a bit off the beaten path where he could chill on the beach with a beverage.

And so here they were careening on some winding mountain highway in a van driven by a sprightly 30-something guy sporting sponge twists in a fade named Desmond, or Dezzy, who was apparently a cousin of Bev’s.

“More like ‘Dizzy’,” he whispered to Derek when the way too calm driver, who was currently humming along to “Getaway” by Earth, Wind and Fire, overtook a car on a longer stretch and cheerfully honked the horn, swerving back into the left lane before they could be smashed or knocked off the mountain by an oncoming semi truck. The tires hugged the edge of the road around the next curve and they all leaned to the side.

They’d flown into Montego Bay a couple days before, leaving in the wee hours and arriving in the late morning. They shared a room with two beds as usual while on a job at the guest house Bev hooked them up with. It was in Runaway Bay about a 20 minute walk to beach, which they visited as soon as they’d settled in and got their bearings. If Stiles had his way he’d be wearing one of his two pairs of swim trunks the entire trip.

The owner, Tish, sent them off with a tote bag of sandwiches made from slices of a sweet and spiced brown bread and some salty, tangy, cheddar-based cheese that apparently came from a can. There were also a couple bottles each of grapefruit Ting and D&G kola champagne. They took their bounty and beach supplies down to the white sands and ate in the shade of an almond tree, the gentle, bright blue waves beckoning them. 

Derek didn’t need sunscreen like Stiles did, but he said he found the low level burn before his body healed annoying, so they both applied the SPF 50 lotion afterward, helping with each other’s backs when done with rest of themselves. Stiles tried to distract himself from the expanse of skin and muscle underneath his roaming palms, blushing when he found himself absentmindedly tracing the triskelion between the werewolf’s shoulder blades. He then had to fight to keep from making any noises when it was his turn, deft fingers spreading the goopy substance over him. 

As soon as those warm, massaging hands were removed from his hyper aware body — his, uh, starting to react body — Stiles took off running toward the clear water in an attempt to both hide and dampen the state he was in. Derek was soon chasing after him and he felt a thrill of excitement as he crashed through the warm liquid before being tackled. He came up sputtering and shaking his head, retaliating as soon as he wiped his stinging eyes by kicking water at the smug wolf and getting into an all out splash battle until he tired out.

They floated and swam, goofed around trying to knock each other over, and just hung out semi-crouched in the sea for a while before returning to land, spreading out towels to sit or lie on and air dry in the hot sun. Stiles looked over to see Derek resting prone with his head on his forearms, eyes closed and smiling. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen the Alpha so at ease and watched him fondly before turning to gaze out at the ships dotting the horizon, fingers trailing through the sand. 

We’ll run away together. We’ll spend some time forever. We’ll never feel bad anymore, flashed through his mind, a relic of summers past.

Heh, if only. Him and Derek? Maybe in another lifetime. Sighing, he pushed the thought away and stretched out on his back, gazing up at the clouds dotting the late afternoon sky.

Stiles was liable to fall asleep right there, but didn’t want to wake up a lobster once the sunscreen stopped being effective, so before he nodded off he poked Derek in the shoulder and suggested either moving back into the shade or heading back to their accommodations. Their hours in the water had worked up an appetite because before the wolf could answer his stomach growled and they both burst out laughing.

Shortly after returning they saw Tish in the side yard picking what looked like bumpy green pinecones from one of the fruit trees. She handed them one to try, a curious fruit with many names. Sweetsop, sugar apple, custard apple, and more. Derek broke it open and the creamy segments of flesh covering black seeds inside were indeed sweet and reminiscent of custard. 

Seeing that they liked it she gave them a couple more and they thanked her, finishing the first one and part of another back in their room.

It was almost dinner time, so they both used the wait to make some phone calls, Stiles to his father and then to Scott in San Diego and Derek to Isaac and Malia to check-in on the pack. If he recalled correctly international calls were around $0.30 cents a minute with his phone plan so he kept each conversation to around 15 minutes knowing he’d probably talk to at least his dad another couple of times. Derek, laconic as usual, had been done with his in a fraction of the time and was reading a novel in Spanish that he picked up in Ecuador by the time he finished.

That evening’s meal was savory brown stew chicken with rice & gungo peas cooked with coconut milk, thyme, and some flavors he enjoyed, but couldn’t quite place. They ended up chatting with Jacob, the cook, when they sat in the courtyard outside the kitchen afterward and he was happy to talk about the food that he and the other staff members prepared. Stiles found that he could mostly understand Patois, or Patwah, at least if he was paying attention and it wasn’t too fast. 

“Dere x-amount ah spice an ‘erb dem, but eff yuh haffi pick tree dat gi yuh dat tayse ah Jamaica? Den mi seh tyme, pimento — wah yuh call allspice — an scotch bonnet peppa a most important. Eff yuh waan mek it four, den skallion fah chuu,” Jacob said, holding up what seemed a cross between a spring and red onion.

That night they turned in early tired out from the long hours of travel and activity and he fell asleep replaying the happiest day he’d had in a long time.

The second morning started with a hearty breakfast of escovitch fish — whole red snapper fried until the skin was crispy and then topped with a vinegary mix of sliced onion, carrot, bell pepper, that ever present fruity and fiery scotch bonnet pepper, and spices — with boiled green banana and circular pieces of a cassava flatbread called bammy. Then it was off to see the sights in Discovery Bay and Ocho Rios. (“Yeah, I’m sending you to some busy tourist destinations tomorrow but they’re popular for a reason,” Bev told them yesterday.)

They explored the Green Grotto Caves first, entertained by the guide explaining its history and about the animals that lived there. The underground lake was really cool and swimming was allowed up above so of course they took a dip in the brilliant aquamarine water. Next came a scenic drive through Fern Gully and then they arrived at Dunn’s River Falls. 

Derek had no problem climbing up the tiers of limestone barefoot, saving Stiles from injury on multiple occasions despite him wearing the silly water shoes. Indignity and near-braining aside, it was fun and the view beautiful. Every so often they would stop to wade or sit in one of the pools, the cold water from the mountains feeling good after the exertion on the sweltering day. After reaching the top and walking down the hill they hung out on the beach where the river emptied into the warm Atlantic. 

We ready for the road!

Now it was their third day on the island and they were on the way to Portland Parish. After a couple hours the van stopped by one of the ubiquitous stands by the road with grills made from halved oil barrels. They climbed out to stretch their legs and he watched as Derek closed his eyes and inhaled the intriguing scents carried by the smoke. 

“Time fi nyam pon jerk, mi yutes,” Dezzy said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. 

He ordered for the three of them and Derek insisted on paying. A platter of jerk chicken and pork and one with long, fried cornmeal dumplings and thick slices of dense bread were soon placed on their table along with 3 chilled green coconuts with straws poking out from the chopped open tops. Each of them were lost in their own little worlds as the combinations of flavors exploding on their tongues, the doubly hot, spiced meats cut with the lightly sweet carbs and washed down with the refreshing coconut water. Dezzy recommended saving the drained fruit for scooping out later.

Then they were back on the road again, the two of them dropped off at another guest house around an hour later, this one right off a beach near Fairy Hill. It belonged to another acquaintance of Bev’s, a friend of a friend or a friend of a cousin or something. Dezzy was staying with relatives nearby and told them to give him a call when they wanted a ride somewhere. They checked in at the reception area and were shown to a cozy, standalone single room dwelling.

Once again they went swimming right away and then ended up joining an impromptu volleyball match and tossing a frisbee around with a group of local and American youths that were staying there with their folks ahead of attending a big family reunion. Afterward they went for a walk to check out the neighborhood, stopping in at an outdoor bar and restaurant called Spinnaz. 

“Siddung likkle bit, nuh,” called a server mixing up a fruit filled concoction while they were standing back reading the menu board. She gestured at a couple empty seats and they sat down at the bar to finish deciding what to try.

Bottles of Red Stripe beer in hand a few minutes later, they leaned back and watched the other patrons socialize and dance, enjoying the light breeze. A fast tempoed number backed by a drum machine and horns came on and got most of the guests on their feet, hips swinging left, right, backward and forward increasingly fast with the lyrics.

Cent, five cent, ten cent, dollar. 

When it came time for the “big money wine” the crowd went wild shaking and gyrating. 

Stiles was itching to move, but he felt too self-conscious/sober to join in, so he just worked his shoulders in his seat, swaying and tapping his fingers on the counter behind him and his feet on the footrest of the high-backed swivel stool. 

Several tracks later a distinctive cackling marked the beginning of “Feel Good, Inc.” as Derek ordered another round of drinks, this time house made ginger beer with glasses of amber Appleton Estate rum on the side. He was nodding along with the beat when a platter of garlic butter shrimp and lobster with more of those fried cornmeal dumplings, festival,  arrived for them to share.

Afterward they ambled around some more, passing by various shops and vendors. Stiles bought a green shirt shirt that said “Who cyaan ‘ear, muss feel” in white letters with a stylized donkey on it and Derek got a gorgeous mahogany leather wallet engraved on the front with an anchor in the center and ferns and hibiscus flowers around the edges. Lastly, on the way back they stopped where a man was selling cut and peeled pieces of sugar cane on the side of the road. 

“Of course you would buy a cup of straight sugar,” Derek teased as they continued on.

“Hey, it’s bi sugar because I’m eating it,” he replied, taking the stick he’d been chewing on out of his mouth. “And anyway, this is unrefined from a plant. Plants are healthy, I don’t make the rules.” 

Derek snorted and shook his head, but grabbed one of the sticks himself. 

Huh, maybe the werewolf wasn’t as immune to the sun as he thought. He looked a little red.

Back in their room he set the rest on the table for later and then flopped onto his bed, turning on the satellite tv and flipping through channels as Derek sat up on his and found where he left off in his book. They went out again in time to watch the sun start its descent over the ocean. 

A couple colorful boots were now pulled up a ways down the beach and they walked over when a person standing next to one of them called out and appeared to wave at them. There were three men who looked to be in their early 40s, two with close-cropped hair — a short, stocky guy named Joseph and a taller, leaner man called Leslie — and another tall guy, slender with fine, tied back shoulder length braids who introduced himself as Malcolm and asked if he and Derek were interested in buying dinner. They were.

The fishermen had an ancient boombox going and Leslie was tending a makeshift grill as Malcolm scaled a variety of freshly caught fish and handed them to Joseph to clean. Closer up Stiles could see the boats were held in the shallows with anchors that were hunks of metal which looked like wheels with extended spokes. He shuddered at the thought of accidentally running into one of those.

In no time at all the prepared fish were on a piece of wire fencing over the small wood fire, a pot of mysterious contents bubbling on top of stones off to one side as well. Leslie explained that this type of grilled fish was called “bun finga” because digging into it shortly after it was done as people were wont to do would indeed burn your fingers and they laughed. 

Unlike most dishes which were generously seasoned this had only the salt of the sea and the smoke and char from the fire along with the oil of the skin itself for flavor, but that alone was enough to make it taste amazing and he experienced the accuracy of the name himself. Stiles soon noticed that the men were eating something else from the pot for their own meal and inquired about it.

“Mannish Waata soup,” replied Leslie.

“Yuh waan try?” asked Joseph with raised eyebrows. A sucking, kissing sound came from the right. 

“Mi tink him cyaan handle,” Malcolm said with a mischievous grin.

Stiles huffed and grinned back, not one to back down from a challenge.  

“Yeah, I’ll try it.”

Joseph filled up a cup and then offered one to Derek as well with plastic spoons.

“How much do we owe you for these?” the curious werewolf asked, sniffing the contents.

“Nuttin,” answered Malcolm. 

“Dis wan pon wi,” added Leslie watching Stiles with anticipatory amusement.

Cautiously, he blew on a spoonful and then tasted it, his eyes widening. He took a few more bites, trying to discern what type of meat was in it. Definitely not fish or chicken or pork, but he didn’t think it was beef either. The flavors were strong and there were some odd chewy bits, but it was pretty good, the spice making him break out in a sweat. There were chunks of various root vegetables, dumplings, and what turned out to be slices of green banana with the skin on as well. 

Near the bottom he bit into a piece of hot pepper and started coughing, flapping a hand uselessly and trying to wash it down with the rest of the warm broth. Joseph handed him a cold bottle of water from a cooler and he all but ripped it open, gulping down over half the contents in seconds.

“Thanks” he croaked as Derek and the fishermen laughed.

He wasn’t the only one feeling the burn though because after finishing his portion the werewolf stripped off his shirt and dashed into the water to cool down. Stiles was content to stay on the beach with another bottle of water, enjoying listening to the men razzing each other as they started gathering up their things and also the music coming from the crackling radio. As Derek stood up and started walking out of the waves a woman’s voice sang “Laaawwwd, ‘av is mercy!” and Stiles had to agree because goddamn. 

Realizing his eyes were lingering on the Alpha’s swoon worthy form he quickly looked away and started getting their leftovers and towels together. They said goodbye to Leslie, Joseph, and Malcolm and walked back toward the guest house looking around at the red haze now making the whole sky seem to glow. Stiles suggested a detour around the property before returning to their little studio to check out some of the other buildings. They passed by a shaded lounge area with hammocks that he made a mental note to revisit another time.

Over a dozen people were in the dining room when they peeked inside, background music flowing from the speakers on stands on either side.

I’m trying to change the rules, you deserve something good in your life. We’ve waited for far too long, so come get your blessing tonight, baby.

They strolled through a tropical garden with a little bridge over a koi pond and then circled back around toward the rooms and apartments. 

Still feeling peckish they set upon their leftovers after a short blast in the microwave and washed it down with glass bottles of pineapple soda from the mini fridge. He watched Derek demolish his portion making little growly noises that managed to be adorable while also seriously turning him on.  

Stiles tried to put the kibosh on that train of thought and turned his attention back to his own food, pulling apart the savory morsels and licking his fingers clean. When he glanced up again Derek was staring at him, his eyes glowing red. Stiles swallowed and the wolf’s gaze dropped to his throat and then up again when he deliberately brought his fingers back to his mouth, maintaining eye contact. The moment stretched and grew taut. 

Feeling brave he tipped his head up and bared his throat in invitation and Derek sprang up from the other bed and stalked over. A hand burrowed into his hair as the werewolf leaned down to claim his mouth, the kiss flavored salty and sweet. It took a long time to get here, but now that the dam had broken the desire thrumming between them felt unstoppable.

When they broke apart, Stiles knew exactly what he wanted and just needed a few moments to work up the courage. It was time to grab the bull by its horns, or rather the wolf by the hips. 

With his fingers gripping the waistbands of Derek’s trunks he looked up for permission. At the sharp nod of his head Stiles tugged them down and was met with the Alpha’s swiftly rising and hardening cock. 

He’d seen Derek naked before, but this was the first time seeing him with an erection and it was both tantalizing and intimidating. A chuckle snapped him out of his mesmerized state and he grasped the thick shaft after spitting in his palm. Stiles kissed the head, licking over the slit, and then drew him into his mouth. He worked his hand at the base while he bobbed and sucked, lips straining around the hard member as Derek caressed his head and alternated between murmured words of filth and praise.

He did his best to swallow when the Alpha came, spurting copious amounts of cum onto his tongue and then pulling out to mark his face and throat as well. It was hotter than it had any right to be, even better than he’d imagined, and he felt proud to have brought the not-so-unattainable-after-all wolf off. Derek grasped Stiles by the chin and swiped his thumb across a messy cheek, sliding the coated digit past friction plumped lips for him to suck. 

“So perfect for me,” he growled. Stiles went to touch himself, but the now sharp-fanged werewolf caught his hand. “Let me.” 

At Derek’s urging, Stiles crawled backwards further up the bed and then turned over onto his stomach, all but vibrating with want. His shorts were pulled off and he felt those strong, warm hands on him again, this time palming his ass and then spreading him open for the Alpha’s viewing pleasure. 

Blushing, he looked over his shoulder to see Derek breathing heavily and staring red eyed like he couldn’t wait to devour him.

“Please…anything,” he whispered. The next thing he knew a tongue was licking over and pressing against his hole and he gripped the comforter below him, crying out . Soon he was rubbing himself on the bed and then pushing back wantonly, eliciting a pleased rumble from the wolf.

Stiles whined when Derek pulled away a minute later, but then he was being flipped onto his back, the complementary bottle of cocoa butter lotion tossed down beside him. Crawling onto the bed and taking hold of his cock, Derek mouthed at the tip before sinking down on him, tonguing the underside of his shaft on the upstroke. In between his own babbling moans Stiles heard a cap being flicked open and then cool, viscous liquid was being squeezed onto his thigh.

Derek ran his hand through the fragrant dollop and then a slippery finger began teasing his entrance. Slowly, it pressed in and starting pumping to target his prostate, joined by a second one once he relaxed at the intrusion. He’d done it himself occasionally, but it was definitely better when it was someone else, holy fuck. The twin pleasures of hand and mouth reduced him to a mewling mess and he orgasmed faster than he would’ve liked gasping Derek’s name. 

The wolf had no complaints though it seemed, cleaning his sensitive cock and then nuzzling into his belly and trailing kisses down his inner thighs. Stiles made grabby hands at him, but Derek evaded them, skipping away with a laugh. He returned a couple minutes later with warm, damp cloths and gently wiped over his face and between his legs before climbing beside him and pulling him close.

Of course Stiles couldn’t stay quiet for long.

“Sooo…that just happened.” 

The expression on Derek’s face said “No shit, Sherlock,” his eyebrows raised and scrunched together. Stiles fidgeted and looked back at him again. 

“And, um, it’s a thing we do now?” he asked hopefully.

“Mmm…yes,” Derek replied, reaching down to pinch his ass with a smirk. He did not squeak, dammit!

“Cool.” Looking away and taking a long, slow breath he attempted to quell his internal flailing. Act normal! “So, just for funsies or—“ 

“No.” 

Stiles found himself being thoroughly kissed and then manhandled until he was facing away from the Alpha, but wrapped firmly in his embrace. He’d been little spoon’d! 

Before he could lodge a formal complaint with Boyfriend Services (omg, were they boyfriends?!) a hand covered his opening mouth. 

“Go to sleep,” Derek ordered. Stiles stubbornly dropped his jaw and caught his pinky finger, sucking it and rubbing back against the other man’s crotch. A low rumbling vibrated against his back and the arms around him tightened. Warm breath tickled his ear lobe before it was nipped. “The sooner we sleep, the sooner I’ll wake up and fuck you,” Derek promised huskily. 

Stiles made a frankly ridiculous high-pitched sound. He would be more embarrassed, but apparently Derek liked his weird noises if the way the werewolf was now doing a convincing lamprey impression on his neck was any sign, so that was okay. He closed his eyes and focused on the thrilling sensation, sighing when Derek released his tender skin. 

Everything was okay. Way better than okay. 

Irie.

#sterek #sterek fanfic #twanchordown2023 #twadfullmoon23 #s&s super blue moon #sbm joy #sbm grain #sbm red haze #sbm summer #sterek & stuff events #trisk #sbm trisk

[ripnevillestrevor]

our fortress— chapter three

paring: jake sully × "reader/oc" x neytiri

summary: she sits for a moment before nodding, scooting over in the hammock until there's room for me. i step in, turning my body so it's facing her chest bringing my legs up to fit in between us. she wraps her arm around my waist pulling me closer until she can discreetly put her head in the crook of my neck.

warnings: child cuddling (not like that), child flirting, my bad writing, moat's blatant ass, fluff, the end gets more fluffy as you go, not proofread, LOWERCASE INTENDED

word count: 1,684

note: i write mostly about scenarios going to happen in my dr (haven't shifted yet), if you think it's weird, please either keep it to yourself or message me in private, there are actually people that like this type of content and i'm writing for them. btw comments/requests are open! this is also posted on ao3 under the same name, if you see this anywhere else. please tell me :)

important: i do not allow my work to be copied, republished, translated, or reproduced. please do not use this story on wattpad or on other platforms. respect the author's work <33

i learned the tulkun's name was payakan, i woke with a throbbing headache and a sore throat so sore, i barely wanted to speak. at dawn, i was awoken when payakan reached a small vacant island with lots of trees but also a lot of surrounding water. 

  he said he had to get back to my home island in order for the surrounding animals around awa'atlu to not think anything was out of place. 

  i walked around, got to know the trees, the island in general and found fruits and certain berries hanging on the trees.

  i survived there for a couple of days before i gathered supplies and headed for the mainland.

  the trip was long, almost 3 days at most, i kept track of the time/busied my mind by comparing everything on foot rather than on an ilu.

  my trip to the mainland in the water was almost 3 days, on an ilu it would've been 1 day and at least 3 hours. collecting food in the metkayina clan was easy, one swing of a net and you had all the food to feed the entire village. collecting food on the island took at least a day, maybe more due to all the disinfecting i had to do with all the fruits. my mother taught me how to do that , i thought bittersweetly. we always shed the skin of all our fish, douce it in herb-treated waters, and cook it on a stick over a fire. 

  i began my adventure until i reached this island with a huge tree in the middle of it. the island looked like it was inhabited by na'vi so i prepared to get swarmed. the moment i dragged my tired, wet, and strained body onto the island, i was swarmed by large, darker-- darker than me, men on huge horse-like animals. the spoke in na'vi, something i was very well aware of and taught very well. they were discussing my looks and whether or not to bring me to their olo'eyktan- a term i also knew very well. 

  "you will come with us, the tsahlik of our clan will decide your fate," the largest man said in na'vi, he was a darker shade of blue than me, no extra skin on either his forearms or calf areas. he had darker blue shades of strips all over his body as well, they all did. 

  i nodded an okay and a group of other warriors came out from bushes, trees, and even jumped down from branches. they all carried large spears, pushing me forward. i walked behind the large trojan-like horses and it's warriors riding them. we walked across branches and with each of our steps the moss under our feet lit up like how the animals in the sea lit up each night after the sun disappeared from the horizon. 

  while we walked, i took the time to observe my surroundings. everything was glowing, at least as far as i could tell. there were these animals, all over. some of them were brave enough to actually come up to me and stiff the heels of my feet, some even going as far as to try and climb up my legs. 

  we walked and walked and walked until we came upon the tree in the middle of the island, it seemed to have levels, the main one was where all the clan was located at the moment. they all stopped and looked at us when entering their home, they all made some kind of path for us to pass through. making our way up front I saw the olo'eyktan standing tall and mighty, behind him i saw a girl my age hiding behind his legs, she slightly walked out behind to get a look at me and to present herself as tall and mighty as her father. 

  a woman came down the steps of the tree and to what i presumed, she was the olo'eyktan's mate, the tsahlik. she made her way to me in long, sharp strides.

  "away, irayo," she spoke, her voice strong and willed, while also sweeping away her hands in a fashion that spoke, 'give us some space.' the people, including the warriors that brought me to their home stepped backwards. 

  she surrounds me, taking my arms into her hands and inspecting the extra skin of my forearms, she walks behind me, taking— more like grabbing— my tail in her hand and i resisted my hardest not to hiss but i do have the least bit of decorum considering all of what i've been through in the last week. my mother always taught me to never provoke the unknown.

  she rounded back in front of me, bending her back down slightly so as to look in my eyes, she spoke, "what are you called?"

  "ney'ite," i spoke, my voice; raspy though strong due to some... recent events. 

  "why have you come to us?" 

  "i became lost at sea, i swam here. i just need shelter," i explained. i assumed she knew the clan i came from, apart from my skin and extra skin flaps, she was the tsahlik. 

  she looked at me for a moment before turning around and making her way to the little girl standing beside the olo'eyktan. 

  "my daughter neytiri will teach you our ways, to speak and walk as we do." neytiri didn't seem to be happy, stomping her foot on the ground and protesting. 

  "why me? that's not fair! why not tsu--" she expressed her frustrations by hissing and pointing to another boy standing a little away from her, behind a couple of the warriors who brought me.

  "it is decided!" the tsahlik boomed over her daughter in na'vi. neytiri subsides, turning to glare at me.

  "you will learn well ney'ite, my daughter will teach you our ways. we will see if you can be taught," she turns to neytiri, her expression stern.

  "she is your responsibility," neytiri nods, accepting, but she’s obviously not happy. she walks forward, grabbing my arm and pulling me roughly away. 

  neytiri leads me up the branchy staircase until we reach a level in which is covered in large hammocks, some residing children and their parents.

  i saw the similarity between our homes, it was a nice change of pace. being out in the open, breathing forest air. made me feel just the slightest bit more free.

  "what are you doing?" i asked as she lead me to what i assumed to be her hammock. 

  "do not speak," she ordered me. pulling something from the ground near the hammocks before hopping in, the hammock rocking slightly due to her weight.

  "come," she pulled my arm unexpectedly, falling into her arms, i tripped over my own feet and landed in a heap on her lap. 

  she hissed and pulled me by my arms to sit in front of her before skinning the leaf she picked up and began applying it to the wounds i didn't even know i had. she was only my age but her eyes felt developed, wise. i could get lost in her amber, honey-colored feline eyes. 

  my mother taught me to never stare, but i couldn't help it. i always thought my clans complexion was the best complexion of blue for the na'vi. but now... 

  she paused her movements before slowly moving her eyes upwards to meet my smaller blue eyes. 

  i noticed a slight purple tint creep up her neck and meet the tip of her ears, she smiled shyly before returning to applying the fiber-based bandages. 

  she let me borrow one of her clans handweaved breasts covers and a new loincloth. 

  she leads me down the steps again to the second level of the tree where everyone was gathered for dinner. i make my way through the crowds of na'vi, they all looked up at me as i weaved my way through their tails and feet. although i think they could tell i was sorta uneasy in their presence as some smiled, a few kids even came up to me and offered to play with me tomorrow. 

  neytiri crosses in front of me to the cook pit and returns with several leaves heaped with food, she kneels next to me, placing the food in front of me almost pleasantly.

  "what's your name?" i ask nicely. she looks at me defiantly, like i didn't already know her name. obviously i knew her name, i was just trying to make conversation. 

  "neytiri te ckaha mo'at’ite." she spoke.

  "neytiri te ckaha mo'at’ite." i repeated a lot slower, "pretty," i commented.

  she smiled lightly, pushing my food towards me slightly.

the sleeping level – i observed families nesting in groups on woven hammocks the size of trampolines. the hunters sleep along this thing neytiri calls spokes , it joins the inner trunk to the tree’s outer shell.

  neytiri leads me to the hammock beside her, as she herself gets comfortable. i look over to see neytiri curled up in the hammock next to me in a fetal position. she looks at me for a moment with hooded eyes before turning over and grasping her hand around the strings of her hammock pulling them closer, almost like a blanket over her. 

  i step into the hammock opposite of her fiddling with my fingers before pulling back and walking over to neytiri's hammock. she feels my presence, her ears flip back into something i like to call airplane mode and she turns over, lifting the top half of her torso up until she's on her elbows, facing me. 

  "can- can i sleep with you?" i ask timidly. i really just need someone, i wanted to say.

  she sits for a moment before nodding, scooting over in the hammock until there's room for me. i step in, turning my body so it's facing her chest bringing my legs up to fit in between us. she wraps her arm around my waist pulling me closer until she can discreetly put her head in the crook of my neck. 

and that's how i fell asleep. in neytiri's arms. in hometree. 

─────────────────────────

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#avatar cameron movies #avatar the way of water fanfic #jake sully #jake sully x oc #jake sully x oc x neytiri #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader x neytiri #neytiri #neytiri x jake #neytiri x reader #ripnevillestrevor

[nocturnalghoul]

Mushy May Day 25: Adopting a Stray

Back on my Mountain with two giant newfoundland puppies agenda. He names then Petunia and Viola and they are doted on my everyone at the abbey.

Words: 768

Rating: Gen/ Everyone

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

Mountain was heading home from his morning hike when he noticed two black blobs squiggling through the brush off in the distance. He immediately stopped, focusing in on the spot where he saw movement and making soft cooing noises at whatever was lurking. A short while later the two fluffy black blobs toddled their way over towards him. 

“Now what are you two darling puppies doing out here in the woods alone?” he called out softly, crouching down and reaching out one hand for the dogs to sniff. He searched around for any others, but couldn’t find any. 

Luckily the two dogs seemed small and young enough for Mountain to easily carry one in each arm back to the abbey with him. Nobody ever ventured out this far into the woods in good faith except for other earth ghouls, so it seemed safe to assume somebody had attempted to dump the dogs out here. 

It was still early enough in the morning that few others were awake, making smuggling the puppies into his room easy enough. He placed a little bowl from the kitchen on the floor of his bathroom with some water for them and got to work attempting to figure out what to do. 

After some research he realized the two were likely newfoundland puppies. They were going to eventually grow pretty massive but were still young and therefore small enough to manage for now. It had taken some dedicated persuading of Sister Imperator, but eventually she approved for Mountain to keep the two dogs. He had to promise to find a dedicated person to watch them whenever the band went on tour, but their sweet sleepy faces seemed to win her over in the end.

That had been over a year ago and now the two “lovely ladies” as Mountain called them, aka Petunia and Viola, were giant. 

“Does your weird earth ghoul magic extend to both plants and dogs Mount? These things are bigger than any dog has a right to be” Dew moaned after being tackled to the floor by the excitable duo. 

“It’s not their fault they are quick bloomers. Maybe you should try growing sometime Dew, it seems awful all the way down there” Mountain teased back before letting out a soft whistle, recalling the dogs to his side. “If they can still get bigger maybe there is hope for you yet.” 

Before Dew could respond, Cowbell walked in, sitting down promptly on his chest. “I saw the dogpile and wanted to join” they explained at the exasperated groan from the fire ghoul. He was there to take the dogs back to their quarters so that Mountain could finish loading up the stuff for the band to leave on tour, but a last cuddle with Dew seemed worth the wait no matter how much the fire ghoul squirmed beneath him. 

Bell had immediately offered to be the official dog sitter for Mountain the same day he found Petunia and Viola. Normally the girls would follow Mountain around and accompany him on his hikes or out to the cabin in the woods, so it was nice for them to have another earth aligned ghoul around in his absence. Their time with Bell was more digging holes in the garden and dragging him swiftly towards the lake though. 

They were both good girls at heart though and while the image of the scrawny ghoul being pulled along by the massive dogs was always a rather funny one for the siblings to get to witness, they never actually took him anywhere bad. 

It was a stark contrast from the way they marched behind Mountain, perfectly flanking him with one on each side, little baskets full of herbs and flowers he had collected in each of their mouths. The siblings seemed to wholeheartedly enjoy both scenes equally. 

“Alrighty Bell, the girls already pinned Dew to the floor, let him up now so we all can get going. I’ll miss you as much as I miss them but please send lots of pictures” Mountain laughs out watching the dogs join in the pile on top of Dew that Cowbell had started. 

He said his final goodbyes before grabbing the last of his stuff and hauling Dew off the floor to join him. It made him sad to have to leave the two dogs behind, but at least he knew they had Bell and the adoration of all the siblings to keep them company while he was gone. Mountain was hopeful that the time would be up and they would be reunited before he even knew it.

#mushy may #nocturnal mushy may #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfic #nocturnal writings #mountain ghoul

[12timetraveler]

All Hallows Eve

I can't find the damn post from last year so guess I'm making a new post

Some of the VDL boys react to having a witchy SO who is celebrating samhain (sah-win) or All Hallows Eve.

Notes:

The October full moon for 1898 was on the 29th, just before All Hallows Eve. So that year would have been a little extra crazy. So this takes place before Blackwater.

Note: I'm a firm believer that one's craft is very individual and no one is going to practice the same, so I tried to keep things general but there's no way I could cover the many ways people practice Samhain/All Hallows Eve.

Arthur

Arthur has seen enough crazy supernatural shit in this world that he doesn't even question anything about your craft. He's even taken you out a few times to try and help him understand the ghost in the swamp.

So when you tell him All Hallows Eve is a night where the veil is paper thin, and all sorts of things can happen, he takes it seriously.

The weeks leading up to it, send him out to gather any herbs or ingredients you need for your spells or ceremonies. he'll come back with saddlebags full-to-bursting.

He approaches you a week before and asks if you can lay some protections around the camp. He's seen too much shit and he doesn't want anything happening to his family. You assured him the odds are slim-to-none, but he still asks you to, just to be safe.

The afternoon of All Hallows Eve you and he ride out to a space far away from camp where you can do what you do that night. If you don't mind him watching, Arthur will sit nearby and respectfully watch. If you prefer to practice in private, he'll step away but stay nearby to keep you safe.

He refuses to participate in any sort of contact with the other side however. He may not be smart, but he knows not to mess with that shit and he's afraid he'll mess it up, even with your guidance.

If you're the type who needs rest afterwards, he'll take you to the nearest hotel and bundle you under the blankets and hold you close, protecting you from the worldly dangers after you've spent the evening dealing with the otherworldly.

If you're feeling like you just chugged an entire pot of coffee, he'll happily follow you across forest and meadow, staying with you and doing anything you ask (and I mean anything ;) sometimes after a spellwork you just gotta screw like rabbits)

John

John's a little quiet at first when you explain the upcoming day. He's always known you walked the path of the ancient ones, but it never really hit him that you were an actual witch.

After he gets over the initial pause, he asks if there's anything he can do to help with your preparations.

Be specific when you ask him to get you things. Mention you need crystals and he's probably gonna bring you back a shiny river rock.

He's got a lot of heart, just not a lot of knowledge on plants or stones. He'll happily get you other things that you may need. (Rabbit bones and the like)

He gathers a whole crate of empty beer bottles for you to fill with moon water. He takes you down to the river where you cleanse your jars and then fill them.

With Abigail's permission you painted Jack's face to keep him safe from evil. Jack thinks it's great.

That night John will happily take you wherever you need to go to do your practice. He'll keep guard, but he feels a little weird watching so unless you have something you specifically need him for, he probably won't watch.

If you're tired afterwards, he'll make a nice little fire and keep you warm.

If you're feeling your oats afterwards, he'll happily go do something. Rob a shop, get a drink in the saloon, whatever you're feeling.

Charles

Charles is immediately focused when you begin explaining the importance of the upcoming day. Having lost most of his culture, he knows how important it is to hold onto one's roots, so he'll do anything he can to help.

Tell him what herbs you need and he'll bring back huge bundles full.

Ask for a pelt to use for casting or an alter cloth, and he'll find you the best pelt he can, of whatever creature you need (rabbit, deer, racoon, fox, anything). The meat can go for your stew that evening.

Lament that you need your crystals and he'll take you out riding to local quarries, river banks, anywhere that you might find some.

Mention that you need something to carve, and he'll come back with saddlebags full of wild pumpkins and squash to carve.

He's super supportive. Anything you need from him, he's there.

He keeps track of the moon for you and helps you set up your jars to make moon water for your work.

The two of you leave camp early in the morning to find a good place for you to do your craft that night.

He's very respectful the whole time. Asks a lot if he can stay or if you need him to take a walk.

If you let him watch, he's mesmerized by your practice. It's so beautiful to watch. Whether your dancing naked among the trees or kneeling over a ouiji board, whatever your practices are, he thinks they're beautiful.

He does ask that you don't try to contact his mother on the other side, and you promise not to. He's not sure why, he just doesn't feel like she'd want to be disturbed. He also believes that she and his other ancestors watch over him so it's not really needed.

If you need rest afterwards, he'll bundle you up in a big warm pelt and curl up by the fire with you, holding you close as you drift off to sleep.

If you're wired after you're done, he'll do whatever you want to do. Though he does try to help you settle eventually so the two of you can get some sleep that night.

Hosea

Hosea certainly doesn't believe in magic. But he had a healthy respect for others beliefs and cultures.

So as Samhain approaches, he begins doing as much research as he can. He asks a thousand questions. What can he do to help? What herbs do you need for your spells?

You ask if you can put up some protections around camp, and he says of course.

Swanson may try and take them down, but Hosea swats him away, lecturing about how disrespectful it is.

"How would you feel if she went around pulling down your crosses?! They serve the same purpose, to protect."

Hosea surprises you with a box full of small, different colored candles which he bought from a traveling witch. And yes he actually bought them. You'd warned him about stealing from witches.

The night of Samhain, he takes you out to a secluded spot to practice your craft. He is fascinated, whether or not he believes in it.

If Bessie is waiting to pass on a message, he'll love to hear it. But he asks you not to call for her specifically.

"Let her get her rest. I'll see her again one day."

If you're the type to get tired after practicing your craft, especially on a day like this with so many spirits around, Hosea will make camp and wrap you in blankets before pulling you close and telling you scary stories.

If you're the type who will frolic in the forest all night, energized by all the power around you, he'll gladly follow, though he may doze off from time to time.

Dutch

Dutch is a skeptic for sure. He's a little patronizing about your practice at times. However when he sees how important this is to you, he's all business.

When you explain some of the more celebratory traditions of Samhain, he's more interested. The gang could always use something to keep spirits up.

He gets everyone involved. You all carve pumpkins to ward of spirits. The women make Jack a mask to wear on the day to hide him from evil.

Dutch sends Arthur to town to get some candy and you set up a little trick-or-treating route in camp for Jack to go tent to tent and get candy.

Dutch encourages you to do your practice in camp for everyone to see. If you're comfortable with this he'll be very excited.

If you're not comfortable with that, explain that it's very personal and he'll let it go, very understanding that some things aren't a spectacle.

That night, after Jack finishes trick-or-treating, the gang throws a party.

If you elect to slip out of camp to practice, Dutch will happily go with you to protect you, even if that's just standing with his back to you.

Yeah Dutch is a skeptic. Contact his mother on All Hallows Eve though and his tune will change.

If you're tired, he'll bring you back to camp and tuck you into bed before doing his rounds at the party.

If you're wide awake, he's happy to dance with you until the wee hours of the morning.

Javier

Javier was raised a good Catholic boy so he balks a little at first when you tell him you're a witch. But he knows you. You're not of the devil. So he agrees to help, though he's a little nervous about it.

Slowly he starts to notice similarities between Samhain and Día de Los Muertos.

The veil is thin and those from the other side can cross over. It's the same basic idea.

He helps you gather what you need for your practice, and you help him set up an ofrenda for his mother and father.

You manage to find some marigolds for him. And he finds you the herbs you need for your work.

The two of you opt to stay relatively close to camp, finding a nice spot in the trees just outside of camp. You spend the evening together, practicing your craft and celebrating his family.

Certainly Samhain and Día de Los Muertos aren't the same. Not at all. But the two of you find a certain harmony with the two, and enjoy celebrating in each other's company.

Sean

Sean gets really excited when you mention Samhain.

He may have been raised Christian, but his family was that wonderful Irish mix of Christian and traditional. He knows not to scoff at something like this.

If you celebrate Devil's Night, he's more than happy to go out and cause mischief and mayhem with you.

He "helps" you make soul bread. And by help, I mean he watches you, stealing bits of dough and wiping flour on your nose while talking non-stop.

The two of you head into town to buy pumpkins and turnips to carve.

Sean of course tries to stick his head in a hollowed pumpkin and gets it stuck. It takes John, Charles and Arthur 30 minutes to break it off of him.

But as the sun begins to set, Sean settles down some. He helps you set the jack-o'-lanterns up around camp to ward off spirits. Scuffs some dirt on Jack's face to keep him hidden.

When you leave camp with Sean, he's very respectful, keeping quiet for the most part except for the occasional "keep us all safe from the wee folk and anything else that's out tonight."

If you do any work contacting those on the other side, try to find his parents. He'll weep openly if you get a message from them.

If you're tired afterwards he'll snuggle you around the fire and tell you spooky stories until you fall asleep.

If you're wide awake, he'll happily get up to more mischief with you. Go get drunk or rob a house or anything really.

Bill

Bill tries. He really does.

But he's barely wrapped his head around "normal" traditions.

Witchcraft is above and beyond him.

Ask for crystals and he'll bring you a stolen diamond necklace.

"Diamonds is crystals ain't they?"

Yeah you'd better just go out and gather everything you need yourself.

He is remarkably good at wrapping herb bundles though. After you dry your herbs, you have him tie off your bundles.

When you invite him to come with you to keep you safe during your practice, he blushes 50 shades of red.

"Don't you... Ain't you gonna be... nekked?!"

Yeah Bill believes the stereotype that witchcraft is dancing naked in the woods.

If that is part of your practice, remind him that he's seen you naked plenty of times in bed.

If that isn't part of your practice, just explain and he'll calm down.

He's a bit jumpy when you go out that night. If you only do some spellwork, he'll settle.

If you start contacting the dead, he'll piss himself. He is very afraid of ghosts.

If you're tired, he'll carry you back to his horse and let you sleep on the ride back to camp before carrying you to bed.

If you're wide awake and horny after your practice, he'll chuckle and pull you close.

"Now I see what you dragged me along."

Micah

Micah thinks it's totally sexy that you're a witch.

He sees it as another form of rebelling from the norm.

He's probably not going to go pick your herbs for you.

But he'll ride out with you to gather anything you need.

I'll be honest, Micah thinks it's some sort of sex thing.

The image of witches dancing around in the woods at night while naked is definitely stuck in his mind.

Explain and he'll get it. Sort of.

Okay he'll probably never understand but if he likes you enough for you to be his S/O, he'll play along.

He might whine about it though.

He'll gladly go with you that night to keep you safe.

He's still half-expecting some sort of orgy.

But he'll keep guard and let you do your craft.

If you're tired afterwards he'll gladly snuggle with you by the fire.

If you're wide awake he'll gladly get up to some mischief with you.

#all hallows eve #rdr2 hcs #rdr2 headcanons

[omgsquee2001]

Love Conquers Fear: A Steddie x Fem! Reader (Dragon AU)

~~~~

Many tales have been told throughout the kingdom of Theola. But none as strange as the story of the Village girl and the two shape-shifting dragons.

~~~~~

It was early morning in the small village of White Bridge in the kingdom of Theola. But an early start, also means a busy day. The door of the Village doctor, Luke Wallace, opened bright and early. Before the sun had anytime to shine on the sleepy town, villagers were pouring in with various ailments. Luke’s wife, Lydia, put some peppermint leaves into a small bag and handed them to a young woman.

“There you go, Mrs. Emerson. At least three or four days of peppermint tea, and Gareth’s bellyaches will be all cured.” Lydia said, a kind smile on her face. Mrs. Emerson smiled back and thankfully took the peppermint, giving Lydia five coins as payment.

“Thank you so much, Lydia. I honestly don’t know what we would do without you, Luke and [Y/N] here,” Mrs. Emerson said. Luke smiled at the woman as he was preparing more medicinal herbs and flowers.

“We’re just happy to help, Mrs. Emerson.” Luke said. The back door opened and a young teen walked in. Her [h/l] [h/c] was pulled into her favorite style. Her [f/c] dress flowed around her feet as she rushed in. Lydia smiled.

“Nice of you to show, darling.” Lydia said. She wasn’t upset at her daughter for being late. She knew that [Y/N] had other duties besides helping her and Luke at the shop. The woman smiled.

“Morning Ma, morning Da.” [Y/N] said. She walked over to the shelves, seeing which flowers and herbs they needed to restock. While her mother and father took care of prescribing the medication and grinding up the herbs and flowers, [Y/N] was in charge of making sure they were all stocked up with the proper medicine. Most of the time, the herbs and flowers resided in the forest surrounding White Bridge, and half the time, [Y/N] was the only one brave enough to venture into the forest.

Luke looked back at his daughter.

“What needs restocking now?” He asked, grinding up some Calendula flowers to make into an oil later. [Y/N] hummed and looked at the different jars.

“It looks like we need to restock on some Calendula, Chamomile, and Hyssop.” [Y/N] said. She grabbed her cloak and a basket for placing the herbs and flowers in. Lydia looked over at her daughter.

“Remember, love, stay away from the Dark Grove.” Lydia said in a warning tone. The Dark Grove were a part of the woods surrounding White Bridge. You could only find it if you ventured far enough into the woods and towards the middle of it. Every villager and Royal in Theola stayed clear of the Dark Grove, since, it was rumored that dragons lurked there. The humans and dragons hadn’t had a fight for hundreds of years. The only thing that kept the rumors alive was when someone was actually stupid enough to go into the Dark Grove, and they were never seen again.

[Y/N] nodded. “Yes, Ma. I remember.” [Y/N] said. She honestly didn’t believe in the rumors. She believed that dragons existed, but she didn’t believe that they were the blood thirsty, fire breathing monsters that everyone thought they were. She walked over and kissed Luke on the cheek. “I’ll be back before dinner, Da.” [Y/N] said. Lydia walked over and helped [Y/N] put her cloak on.

“Take Angus with you.” Lydia said, tying the cloak together. Angus was the family dog. He was a Great Dane, who went with [Y/N] wherever she went. Though he greeted the customers with a wagging tail and calm demeanor, Angus wasn’t afraid to defend his owners. [Y/N] smiled.

“I always do.” She said. She turned to her dog. “Angus, come.” [Y/N] called. With a hopeful whine, Angus’ head lifted. He then got up from his bed behind the counter and followed after his favorite owner. She opened the door and rushed out, Angus running beside her. “I’ll be back before dinner!” [Y/N] shouted.

~~~~~

Steve opened his yellow, reptilian eyes and looked around. He was still in his cave, his mate laying beside him in their cave. The Ukrainian Ironbelly looked over at his mate, a Hungarian Horntail, sleeping soundly next to him. Steve stretched, standing up and shaking out his body, stretching out his wings as much as he was able to in the somewhat small cave. Steve looking over at his mate and lovingly nudged the Horntail’s head with his snout. Steve rumbled.

‘Eddie, are you awake yet?’ Steve asked. Since they were mates, Steve and Eddie could communicate by thought when they were in their dragon forms. Eddie opened his own reptilian eyes and shook his head out, waking up. Eddie huffed and gave his mate the side eye.

‘I am now.’ Eddie said, huffing. The two dragons’ stomachs started to rumble. Steve looked at Eddie.

‘I’m going to go hunt. You stay here. If anything happens, you know what to do.’ Steve said. Eddie rolled his eyes and nodded slightly.

‘Either roar, say your name, or send up a column of fire.’ Eddie said. Steve nodded. He knew he annoyed his mate with the boring rules, but considering they lived pretty close to a human village, they couldn’t take any chances. Steve lovingly pressed his forehead against Eddie’s, being mindful of the spikes on his mate’s head. Steve opened his eyes.

‘I’ll be back soon. Don’t go looking for trouble.’ Steve said. He walked out of the cave and unfolded his wings, taking off into the air. Eddie huffed and decided he would take a look around. It had been a while since he had been on a little adventure.

~~~~

[Y/N] looked at a yellow flower before her. ‘This could either be a Calendula, or a Marigold.’ She thought. Calendula’s were sticky to touch, compared to Marigolds, which were smooth to touch. Calendula also had long, round-tipped, hairy leaves. [Y/N] looked at the flower’s leaves. They were long, round-tipped. She gently ran her fingers along the leaves. The pad of her fingers were tickled by the hairy leaves. [Y/N] smiled. “These are Calendula alright.” [Y/N] said. She took out her pocket knife and cut off five stems of the Calendula, putting them in the basket she was holding. She looked to the right of the Calendula and smiled. “Oh! How convenient. There’s a group of Hyssops.” [Y/N] said. “Come on, Angus.” [Y/N] said. Angus panted happily as he trotted along by the young woman’s side. [Y/N] walked over and cut off ten stocks of the Hyssops. Suddenly, Angus’ ears perked up and he turned to the trees behind him, growling. He lowered his head, smelling something dangerous. [Y/N] looked over. “Angus? What’s wrong?” She asked. She slowly walked over and stood next to Angus. In the trees, she saw something brown, much larger than her, and with a bunch of spikes. It was a dragon. Not just any dragon. [Y/N] gasped quietly. “By the Gods. That’s a Hungarian Horntail.” She whispered in aw. The dragon suddenly made eye contact with her, and stood frozen. It seemed as if time itself had stopped. There was nothing. No Angus, no mom or dad, no White Bridge and no Dark Grove. Just [Y/N] and the dragon. [Y/N] was snapped out of it when Angus started growling louder. [Y/N] looked from her dog to the dragon. It was time to go. “Let’s go home, Angus.” [Y/N] said. At the word home, Angus turned around and started running, leading the two home. [Y/N] stared after the dragon one last time before running after her dog.

~~~~~

//let me know if you all would like a part 2. I’m ending it here since it’s late, but I’m more than happy to do a part 2.\\

#Eddie Munson #steve harrington #dragon AU #eddie x y/n #steve harrington x reader

[renee-writer]

What If It Were Brian Chapter Twenty -seven

AO3

“She is.” Jamie studies his oldest son. His eyes are lit up, his feet nor hands are still, he is moving around in his excitement.

 

A new family moved into Fraser’s Ridge. Fergus meet the daughter, Marsali. Now he comes to tell his Papa that this lass is the one made for him.

 

“We shall have to talk with her father.  Does the lass feel the same?”

 

His son flushes with pleasure. “She does.”

 

The McKimnie ‘s moved to the Ridge a mere month ago. He would say it was to soon for either of them to know if it weren’t for himself and Claire. He knew from the first. His son can take after him in that way.

 

He is full of pride at the man Fergus is.  He put as much sweat and toil into making the Ridge what it is as Jamie and Murtagh had.  Brian, ten now, is growing into a fine young man himself. With the example of Fergus to look up to, how can it be any different.

 

“I will go tell your mama where we are off to, and then we shall go speak to Mr. McKimnie.”

 

Olivia is at her mama’s side. They are grinding herbs.

 

“Daddy, look how well I got the garlic ground.”

 

He looks inside the pestle and smiles at his daughter. She is beautiful and smart, sweet and fierce. Olivia holds him fast just like her mama.

 

“Great job my heart.”

 

“Jamie, did Fergus find you?” Claire asks, “He was searching for you.”

 

“Aye. He wishes for Marsali McKimnie’s hand.”

 

She slowly places the mortar down. Olivia keeps up her work.

 

“They have only known each other for a month.”

 

“Aye, I knew immediately with you. It seems Fergus is the same.”

 

“But, he is still so young!”

 

“Actually, he is a year older then I was when we were married.”

 

“Bloody hell.”

 

“Mama, those are bad words.”

 

“I am sorry, my love. You’re right.” She reaches out and strokes her red curls. Ironically, Fergus is the child that looks most like her. “He just seems younger.”

 

Jamie nods. “I think it is always that way to parents. We are going to speak with Mr. McKimmie.”

 

She lets her breath out. “Right. Marsali is a wonderful girl. I like her.  She will make him a fine wife.”

 

“I agree.” He kisses her and his daughter’s cheek before turning to head out. Thinking of something, he turns back around, “I am going to take Brian with us. This is a lesson in manhood.”

 

“You want to marry her?” Brian questions his brother as they walk towards the McKimnie’s.

 

“Ouí, I do.”

 

“Why? Lasses are no fun. They can’t climb trees or swim in the lakes without clothes.” A few new boys had introduced him to skinny-dipping recently.

 

Both his big brother and his papa, laugh at that.

 

“Oh Brian, lasses provide a different type of fun then lads.” Fergus says.

 

His papa gives him a sharp look. “You haven’t been having such fun yet, with Marsali, have you?”

 

“No Papa, you raised me better then that.” 

 

“Oh, you mean kisses.” Brian says, “kisses are nasty. Who would want to kiss a lass?”

 

“My son, just you wait. You will soon want to be kissing lasses. “

 

He pulls a face as they approach the McKimnie’s door. Jamie knocks.

 

“Laird Fraser,” Mr. McKimnie greets them, “and sons. What do I owe the honor?”

 

“Mr. Kimmie, sir, may we come in?”

 

“Aye, of course.” He leads them in. His wife sits doing mending. Her youngest, Jane, by her side. Marsali reads opposite her. She looks up as they step in and a blush covers her face at seeing Fergus.

 

“Mrs. McKimmie, lasses.” Jamie bows to each of them.

 

“Laird Fraser,” she stands and her lasses do too., “Master Frasers.” She curtsies, her and her daughters.

 

“Have a seat,” they take seats around the fire, as befitting honored guests, “would you like a drink?”

 

“No, but thank you. Fergus has a question for you?”

 

“Mr. McKimnie,” He clears his throat, “I request the honor of Marsali’s hand in marriage. I promise to love her, protect her, honor her, as long as God gives me breath.”

 

There is a gasp from Mrs. McKimmie, a squeal from Marsali. The fireplace crackles. Fergus waits and Mr. McKimmie thinks.

 

“Marsali, would you accept his hand?” he says.

 

“Yes daddy. I love him.” She is blushing. Jane grins. It is all so romantic. Mrs. McKimmie keeps sewing. She will speak to her husband about her concerns later, never in front of company.

 

“It would be an honor to see her wed to your son, Laird Fraser. As the lass is but fifteen, I request the engagement be a year. Does that suit, Master Fraser?”

 

“Ouí, thank you Mr. McKimmie.” Inside, he is jubilant. Outside, he is the picture of calm. Jamie taught him well.

 

“Now we must lift a glass to Marsali and Fergus.”

 

Brian gets his first sip of whisky.

#my writing #outlander fanfic #what if it were brian #chapter twenty seven #jamie and claire #cannon divergence #outlander fandom

[chen-chen-chen-again-chen]

Six Sentence Sunday

Hello all! I was going to say "I need to post something for SSS to feel productive today" but honestly I made a t-shirt so fuck it, anything on top of that is just gravy.

Thank you for the Sunday tags, @fatalfangirl, @nightimedreamersworld, @martsonmars, and anyone else who has tagged me (despite Tumblr eating those tasty tags like om nom nom)!  

Work on Rosethorn girl carries on, and I am so glad to have Part 1 and Part 2 out there in the world. A warm, gigantic thank you to every kind human who has visited this universe. ❤️🌹

Mountains are the kinfolk of my beloved

By Lucy Winifred Salisbury

Acrylic on canvas

Here are lines from six fics set in the Rosethorn girl universe. Some of these fics are multi-chap, some are one-shots, most are short. It’d be cool to post during COC (sidebar: I fucking love everything everyone's doing for COC, it is like a FESTIVAL here), but I will make zero promises about a posting schedule. The fics will just drop when they drop! 

Sentences & hello tags under the cut!

1.) My sloe-black friend (the Natasha fic) 

“Basil,” I repeat. Sweet basil, the royal herb, said to be an antidote for basilisk venom. “βασιλικόν φυτόν?” I ask, though my Greek is rusty. 

A smile lightens Natasha’s severe face. “Just so,” she agrees. 

2.) A magical mysteria (the Jamie fic) 

I remembered it all afterwards of course, in the car ride home, Lucy gripping my hand in the backseat. It is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

3.) The girl in pink on the milk-white horse (the Agatha fic) 

“Go on,” I say, offering her the fork. Her eyes dart around - her mother’s on the other side of the garden, chatting with Martin. Agatha brightens, and shoves a generous spoonful of icing into her mouth, humming with contentment.

4.) A piece of the sun, caught in a circle (the Maggie fic) 

Maggie doesn’t call Simon by his name, either; she calls him Kitten or Hatchling or something else in Draconic that she refuses to translate for me.

5.) They were all children once (the Salisbury House fic)

Andrew was hale and strong from the beginning. Tall but a little stooped. Models of aeroplanes in his bedroom, books on his shelves. A serious boy, with a strong sense of justice. As straight and shining as a blade.

6.) Plus ca change (the SnowBaz fic!! Yes, there is one!!) 

(This one’s a bit of a cheat. This story was actually written first, and then I felt I had to write some Lucy POV to understand how we got there and lo, Rosethorn girl was born. The original Plus ca change has to be re-written to fit this universe, so I’m not sure if these lines will survive. But they’re fun!)   

“Why are you defending that idiot?” Basilton says, turning on Simon and oh, yes, that is excellent, the way her own son and Watford’s walking disaster have decided to ignore their headmistress so they can have a domestic in her office. “He could have seriously injured you-“ 

“You didn’t have to set him on fire!” Simon yells back. 

Also… @larkral made SOME INCREDIBLE ART for this universe, but I’m hoarding it like a dragon because I am trying to word some words that are worthy of it. In the meantime, please check out this magnificence: kissing like a forest fire.

Also, a huge fic rec for A Dangerous Affinity, which is SO SO GOOD. The dark world building, the slow burn, Simon fondling a wooden phallus. This fic has got it all!!!  

Hello tags! @artsyunderstudy,@bookish-bogwitch, @captain-aralias, @cutestkilla, @excalisbury, @facewithoutheart, @hushed-chorus, @ionlydrinkhotwater, @johnwgrey, @larkral, @moodandmist, @raenestee, @sailorblossoms, @thewholelemon, @whogaveyoupermission, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe  

Happy Sunday!

#six sentence sunday #WIPS #rosethorn girl #Lucy lives #fuck the Mage #Lucy's scrawlings #cover art by DALL-E #fic rec #long post #my fic tag

[sundownintheparisoftheprairies]

This is dedicated to @draw-a-circle-thats-the-foxhole who has helped me immeasurably find self worth of my crazy mind. I hate this work but i got it done and boy was it hard.

Ch:1

Matthew did not want to wake up.

 The bed was warm and soft, a safe place he could hide away from the world above the quilts. He wasn’t yelled at here or shunned for the way he talked. He wasn’t expected to do anything but rest. and rest he did but he also laughed and read the books Alfred hid under his nightclothes only to come out after father had sent them to sleep, Alfred sneaking into Matthews bed and reading whatever had been nicked from the study this time. 

This morning was cold and colder still that Alfred had long since been up, leaving Matthew with just Blankets and the book on herbs they had read last night. 

It was the first night Matthew had stayed in England. Father had decided he was fit enough to make the journey Across the ocean and stay there instead of the small house outside of Boston he had been recovering in with his brother the past few years. 

This house was much bigger, had more rooms and reminded him of Versailles. He hated Versailles and getting out of bed meant finding his way down to breakfast, that thought scared him. 

The admission that the house made him scared, and that he was terrified of running into the servants or worse father was pathetic.

He was pathetic. Pathetic and useless and a waste of money. 

The knowledge that it was his fault for being in this house stabbed his heart. If he could have worked a bit harder, provided more, been a better colony France wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t be holding a book his brother read with him, in a warm bed, actually full for once. He had disappointed his last father but maybe this time it wouldn’t be so bad. Father was Uncle Alasdair's brother. And he had been kind to Matthew before. Giving Him warm clothes when he traveled through New France from his fur trading companies up north. And he stayed with him while he was sick. Unburied him, fed him. No, he couldn’t let his new Father be disappointed in him. He had to be better.

That started with returning the book so father wouldn’t have to do it. 

Matthew bit his lower lip and tried to find the courage Uncle Alasdair said he had. Strong like summer winds he said to him. It was that last day in Nova Scotia, the fire burning into coals warmed his toes, but the love and hope Scotland provided warmed him from the inside. That was the last time he had seen his Uncle, gone and traded for his Father. He wished he was here now. Matthew didn’t know how to be brave alone. 

Steadying his breath he walked to the door, moving the same way he did when hunting deer. The door opened loudly with a groan, Anxiety spiked in his chest and he was overcome with a wave of embarrassment. It was just a door, he lived here now just as much as Alfred. With that thought he pushed his way fully into the hall. 

It was quiet upstairs but noises from downstairs carried up the hall. The sounds of plates stacking up together, clinking of cutlery and squeaking of chairs reminded Matthew that he was due for breakfast. The book weighed heavily in his hand. Should he go down to breakfast first? Is he missed?. François would be furious if he missed breakfast. But that was at versailles. This was not versailles, it was Fathers home. Maybe Alfred would be down there. Matthew wasn’t hungry, the thought of eating made him nauseous but Alfred would be able to tell him where the library was, show him where to put the book back so father wouldn’t be mad. 

He hurried down the stairs, careful to look at the steps as he went. Matthew was still new to stairs this steep and narrow. He did not want to break an ankle, Father would have to look after him then and he wouldn’t be able to do the housework as fast. Father would be disappointed. 

The voices got louder and Matthew faltered. Maybe he could just hide in his room and find the library later. Alfred would have to come back sometime. He could get a start on scrubbing the floors too, a way to surprise and thank Father for keeping him so long. 

Turning to go back up stars he was in such a rush that he didn’t see the person until his face slammed into soft fabric and he tumbled down the few stairs he climbed up. 

“Good lord boy! Look where you’re going!” 

Glancing up from where he was rubbing his ankle which he knew was at least twisted, the servant before him looked furious. Glowering at him from the steps towering above him making him feel smaller than usual. Tears sprung to his eyes, from the pain in his ankle or the fear and embarrassment in his heart he didn’t know. Here he was. A stranger in this house and he just interrupted a hard working servant of fathers. Cleaning the floor wouldn’t be enough to make father want to keep him now. 

“Don’t go mute on me, who are you!?.”

Matthew didn’t know what to say or do. He wanted to crawl into the woods and run away. He upset someone. He wanted to leave, he deserved to leave. Who would want him now?. Maybe he could find his way to Scotland and find his uncle. The servant mentioned something about getting the lord which got Matthew to respond. 

“Matthew. I’m Matthew, Fathers- the lord's son” That felt weird to say but it was true wasn’t it?. “I am very sorry I did not see you.”

Her face turned into something squished. Like she had milk that went bad. 

“ My lord only has one son and he is not you. How dare you soil his good name! He would never have another son, much less one that's french!.” 

The tears were fully falling down his cheeks. Where was Alfred? He was at breakfast right? Why hadn’t he heard the yelling?. His ankle hurt and he was confused. He wanted Alfred. 

The servant's eyes flashed from his face to his ankle to the book now laying on the floor. Matthew hadn’t seen anyone as mad as Franc was when he broke a vase in Versailles until now. 

“ And stealing from him non the less” She stormed down the stairs and grabbed his arm pulling it so hard it distracted from the pain in his ankle. Marching him down the hall Matthew had no choice but to follow her alone lest he be dragged out. 

She stopped in front of a door that he had never seen before and sharply opened it. England wasn’t as cold as his homeland but it was December and he was only in a nightgown, it quickly seeped into his bones making him shiver.

“ If you truly are his son he would have told us about you, Bastard or not!.”

The door slammed shut leaving him alone outside. The quietness of snow made his sobs even louder and the cold made his searing ankle hotter. He deserved this. She was right. He truly was not Arthur's son. That was Alfred. A bastard she had called him. Some French thing. He wanted to wallow and sit there with his back to the house and cry for all the unfairness. But that would make uncle mad, and he knew he needed to survive. If he couldn’t be inside the house. If Father truly didn’t see him as a son he needed to find his way to Scotland. He knew his uncle cared. He always said he could stay in his letters. But it was so cold. And his ankle was hurt. He needed to find shelter and rest before he moved on. Father didn’t want him but Uncle Alasdair did. Maybe he should just let Father live his perfect life. He already had a perfect son, he wouldn’t miss him. No one would.  

#hws canada #hetalia #aph canada #hws america #my work #i hate this #oh well