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the-kr8tor · 7 months

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Mudwood Manor

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 3.1k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, CW food mention, TW Blood, CW injury.

The Fall Masterlist

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Part I >>> Part II

You lay awake alone on the plush mattress that's not your own. Morning light filtering through the curtains, shining warmth right on your cheek. Your hand roaming around the soft fur of the blanket as the clock ticks slowly to eight. Eyes above the detailed swirling patterns on the bed's canopy, mind drifting back to the home you've left just a few days ago.

Tick.

Taking the ad for this house-sitting gig went better than you thought it would be. Thinking the house you would be watching over will just be a regular house in an urban subdivision. Not an estate full of ancient history situated in the middle of nowhere with only an elderly dog as a companion.

Tock.

At least it's better than your dead end job that makes you feel your soul is getting sucked with every hour you stay on the eighties musky carpeted floors, tapping away your entire life on the grainy screen of the corporate issued computer. The pay's good, better than what you were getting before anyway, even though it's only five months of house sitting it's way above your salary grade. You thank whatever entity out there that blew over the newspaper that literally landed on your lap while waiting for the bus stop, the 'help wanted' page open and glaring right at you. You only wish the job's longer though.

Tick.

The house being nice is an understatement, all oak and narra floors, fixtures and furniture made of the same wood. No sign of modernity in the entire estate. Even the kitchen is in an old style, well except for the coffee maker and microwave. Every hall and wall is covered in oil paintings, portraits of people dressed in old garb keep watch of your every move. The house creaks and shrieks during the late hours of the cold autumn night, always prompting you to keep your eyes tightly closed in an attempt to tamp down your curiosity.

Tock.

It's secluded enough that the air here feels crisp and cleaner than in the city. Trees whisper in the wind, moss clinging to its trunks. You suspect the house is as old as the woods that surround it. With vines curled and looped around the house's exterior and curved stained glass windows decorate its walls. Mudwood Manor they call it for every time it rains, mud gathers around the estate, threatening to swallow you like quick sand.

Chime!

The old grandfather clock's hand reaches eight, the sound echoes around the large room you've settled in. With an exhale, you reluctantly sit up, feet cold from the icy floor. Yawning, you wipe the sleep off your face, bones crying out in protest.

Lumbering your way through the usual morning routine, you change out of your pajamas even though no one else would see you in it, you still wear your usual day clothes, always feeling like you have to dress appropriately in this opulent house. If jeans and a jumper is considered appropriate in the massive estate.

The bathroom is no different than the rest of the house. With the large stark white bathtub in the middle of its tiled floors, twin sinks covered in dark marble, golden faucets squeak open as you turn the knob to brush your teeth. The entire bathroom is as big as your flat back in the city, you scoff at the extravagance of it all.

You like to think the owner of the place fits well with the manor, as eccentric and elegant as their home– all pearls and gold rings, silk and cashmere on their body. But alas you've never met him or them personally, only talking details on the telephone, his gruff voice vibrating against the receiver. They leave the key under the large mat after you've driven three hours to get there. The only clue you have of them actually existing is the instructions they've left you. The note now pinned on the fridge stocked full of food that could last you the entire five months, not to mention the large pantry that could feed an entire village.

You've got everything you'll ever need to survive five months alone. The thought scares you for a bit, but with the silence, fresh air and an entire library of books that you've never thought you could read in your lifetime, the loneliness isn't all bad, the place calms you down; if not for the bouts of sadness, you could see this place as your home for the time being.

The old border collie waits for you in the kitchen, mismatched eyes staring at your form, her tongue lolling on the side, greeting you with what you see as a smile.

"Morning, old Nellie" you greet back with a quick pet on her fluffy head, taking the time to scratch behind her ears. She wags her tail happily, while her eyes are closed in content. You've decided to talk from time to time so that you don't lose your voice, which Nellie appreciates the chatter.

You feed Nellie her breakfast first before fixing one yourself. She eats it in glee. The instructions written in neat cursive jumps at you every morning before opening the fridge.

You can't help but read it again.

1. Do not let anyone in.

You thought that was reasonable enough, it's not your place to invite people in here anyway.

2. Do not wipe the salt line on the doors and windows.

Now that's weird, you've always thought, but to each their own. The salt probably helps with keeping out the smell or rodents. Right?

3. The house is old, the sounds at night are from the metal pipes and scaffolding. Nothing to worry about.

Creepy, it's not like the place needs an extra creep factor added in it.

4. Feed Nellie three times a day without fail. Take her on walks around the estate every morning and before the sun sets.

That's alright, taking care of pets was part of the deal anyway. And it doesn't hurt that Nellie's a good dog to hang around with.

5. Do not in any circumstance go to the woods.

6. Wear the necklace at all times.

Your eyes drift over to the simple circular metal necklace sitting on the counter top, scoffing, you chose not to wear it just because an eccentric millionaire tells you to.

7. Only eat and drink the food I have provided.

You don't think you want to meet the owners now with how creepy they are just based on his instructions. Possessive much?

8. Be wary.

A shiver runs down your spine by just reading those two words.

You shake it off, opening the fridge, nothing piques

your interest this morning. Huffing, you have a hankering for fresh bread, alas you've eaten the last loaf yesterday. The strawberry jam inside the fridge mocks you. You recall on your drive to the manor you've passed by a small village, you're sure the place has a bakery or even a café in it. You crave a different scenery, and to use your voice other than for talking to Nellie.

Turning around, you put your hands on your hips, smiling at your companion who licks at the last bit of food in her bowl.

"What do you say for a stroll, Nellie?" She tilts her head in question, ears perking up, tail wagging excitedly.

—

You've never felt more isolated from civilization while walking towards the village, no houses run along the bumpy road, just miles and miles of trees with its aging wood, wild violets swaying around its trunks. The tall grass makes it hard to see the path. Mist blanketing and moistening the soil.

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it would be, now you're absolutely starving after walking for almost an hour. Nellie wasn't complaining though, for an older dog she seems to have so much energy in her. The village has clearly seen history, with its cobblestone streets, iron lampposts and ancient bricks. The fog thickens, blanketing the roofs of the village like marshmallow fluff.

You tie her leash around a lamp post, petting her fluffy head, you instruct her to sit and stay. She obliges, staring happily at you through her blue and brown eyes.

"Good girl, I'll be back in a flash" you make a mental note of buying her a treat for being such a good sport while you drag her from the manor.

Entering the shop, the bells chime signaling your arrival. Freshly baked bread wafts your senses as various meat is on display over at the counter, waiting for your perusal. You smell the soup of the day, judging by the aroma, you deduce it being butter squash soup, your stomach rumbles at the thought.

The modest shop has quite a few people in it. They chatter amongst their friends whilst eating breakfast and drinking their morning tea. Another patron enters behind you, she greets everyone by name, while the others immediately greet her the same. Well, except for a group of strangers sitting at the far end, they pay her no mind at all. It's a small village, you never doubted for a second that everyone would know every person that lives here. You've anticipated it actually, so used to being alienated from the crowd, you haven't noticed the old woman beckoning you over with a smile.

"Bonnie?" She calls for the third time.

"Oh! Sorry, I was thinking what to order" you move closer to the counter, the chill from the cold cuts display seeps through your jumper.

"You're the new caretaker at the old manor I presume?" She grins sweetly, showing her smile lines around her lips.

"House-sitter, I'm only here for five months" you're wary about telling her vital information, but she's an old woman. What's the harm in telling her that?

"Oh, I see he's going for a quick business trip this time. He would usually take an entire year away, y'know" her thick accent makes it hard for you to understand some of her words. Nonetheless, you don't miss the vital information about your mysterious employer. "But I don't gossip" she chuckles, "what will it be, deary?"

"You know Mr. O'hara, the owner?"

"Aye, known him since he was a lad. Good kid he was." She shakes her head. "There I go gossiping again, what are you havin'?"

You want more answers to feed your curiosity, but you don't want to pester the poor woman. "A BLT with cheese if you have them, lightly toasted and some of the soup, please." she nods, heading over to her station to prepare your sandwich when an older man chides in your conversation.

"Oh please, Orla y'know stopping yourself from gossiping just hurts you more" he laughs from his belly, white beard bouncing as he guffaws with his friends sitting him with.

"This" Orla, gestures from you to her. "Was a private conversation, where's your manners?"

"Don't know where I last put it!" He laughs again, shaking the wooden table in front of him. "Miss, let me guess, O'hara gave you those crazy rules?"

You perk up at the mention of the list. "Yeah, he did. How'd you know?"

He shrugs while the other patrons listen in, "he does the same thing to his other caretakers, there's a 'be wary' one, right?"

"Yes, it's really creepy"

The old woman pipes up, talking over her shoulder as she slices your sandwich. "It's a necessary evil after what happened to his daughter"

"What happened to his daughter?" You ask with trepidation.

"Don't tell me you actually believe that, old woman?" The older man argues back.

"Believe what?" You feel like there's an inside joke you keep missing.

"She was taken by them." Orla, turns around with your soup packed in a tupperware. You look at her questioningly.

"Bullshit if you ask me" the old man mumbles behind his mug. He sees your confused look, "she's talking about the fae" you thank him with a nod.

"It's true!" She wraps your sandwich inside foil, carefully putting it inside the paper bag. "There's no logical answer on where she is! Now it's just O'Hara in that massive estate."

"Kid just ran away, that's all!" Another older man argues back.

"Pssh," Orla swats him away with her hand, he turns away with a scoff. She turns back towards you, ringing your order up in the cashier. "Just do what his list says and you'll be fine" she says it like a warning to never stray far from the rules.

"Why do you think it's the fae?" You give her the payment she needs.

Humming, she clicks her tongue. "Just know it's them."

"Okay, um thank you" drifting away, she holds your arm back, taking your attention again.

Orla looks at you with wide eyes. "You know about them, yes?"

"Yes, like don't eat their food or you'll get stuck or don't give them your name or say thank you. I've heard the folk stories"

"Not just a story. The wood sings and they crave an audience." she lets go of your arm, your breath hitching, goosebumps appear on your skin.

You shake the thought, or try to at least.

The door chimes as you leave. Nellie lays on the pavement, tail wagging as she sees you come back to her side.

"Hi, got you something" she stands up, barking at you in excitement. "Okay, okay, here" Chuckling, you take a slice of bacon from your sandwich, giving it to her.

Nellie carefully takes it from your hand without biting your fingers, she chews happily.

"Good?" You scratch behind her fluffy ear. "Let's go back" untying her leash, you juggle the sandwich and her lead with your hands. The horror stories you've been told in your youth echoes in your mind, as your soft footfalls on the moist pavement. Wind rushes past you, pushing you back towards the manor.

—

Arriving inside the gates of Mudwood Manor, you gaze at the large brick building. It casts a shadow over you, its stature imposing. Fading bricks and trellises crawling with overgrown vines that's starting to wither and turn dark with bits of oranges and red still clinging to its last life. The large red door of the main entrance adds to your uneasiness. You attribute the fear from what the deli owner told you, the woods don't look much better. Tall trees with leaves so thick it blocks sunlight from hitting the undergrowth. From where you're standing, darkness seems to prevail inside. The thick fog added to the eeriness of the scene. It drapes over the treeline like curtains, swirling smoke falling down to the tips of your shoes, hiding something behind you can't quite see.

Just staring from the woodland edge gives you a sense of belonging with every second you stand idle. You have no idea why this feeling encapsulates you. The wind tries to push you towards the dark, flashes of autumn colored leaves swirl past. Eyelashes fluttering in the wind, your lips part as you listen to the flora dancing in the wind, as if it beckons you over. Daring you to cross the edge.

You wake up from the trance as Nellie growls at a squirrel taunting her from the ground. She pulls at her leash, the rope taut, your hand aches at the burn. You let go of the paper bag, half eaten soup spills over the grass, now holding the leash with both hands, you struggle to control the border collie.

"Nellie, calm down!" You yelp in pain when Nellie lunges, escaping your hold. The rope leaves angry marks on your palms, skin aching from the piercing pain. Nellie runs, following the grey squirrel into the woods. You can hear her barks fading in the distance. "Nellie! Come back!" You yell but it's futile as the old dog disappears from view.

"Fuck!" Without thinking, you run after her, legs carrying you further into the thick trees. The fog parts, opening the way. Eyes roaming the moss covered soil for her footprints. "Nellie!"

You're gonna lose your job, the thought makes you run faster. Tripping on a rock, you land on your already injured hand, dirt and grime sticking to the angry gashes, blood mixing with soil. Ignoring the pain, you push through the thicket.

Running, muscles aching, there's a stitch on your side as you stop to catch your breath. Hands on your thighs, you inhale and exhale. Nellie's footprints are barely visible under all the green and orange. Standing to your full height, your heart thumping like a drum under your ribcage. Eyes widening at the darkness that envelopes you, whirling around, fear overtakes your entire being.

You're lost.

Everywhere you look, identical trees fill your vision, cold seeping into your bones, smoke escapes your parted lips. Fingers turning stiff, you turn around when you hear Nellie's familiar bark.

"Nellie! Come here, girl!" You clap your hands to get her attention. "Nellie!"

Another bark echoes out in the dark, with only bits of sunlight filtering through the thicket, you let your other senses guide you to the sound. Speed walking, dry leaves crunch under your shoes, you call out to Nellie again. Narrowly avoiding a tree root protruding from the ground, you step over it so you don't land face first into the moist soil.

You stop when silence permeates the woods again. Standing still, a ring of mushrooms at your feet, you breathe heavily. "Nellie!" Frustrated, you yell again.

Instinctively stepping past a mushroom, you move your neck around, eyes roaming, looking for her white and black fur. Your palms land to your clammy forehead, wincing when you graze your injury.

"Fuck!" You stop circling around when the woods seem to expand right in front of your eyes, moving, flinging away, adding to the acres of wooded land. Vision focusing and unfocusing as the expanse extends further away. Fear once again blankets your nerves. Your mind claws at you to keep running.

"Lost?" A deep voice asks behind you. Alluring, tempting you to answer back.

Your blood suddenly runs cold. Primal fear makes your heart leap out of your chest.

Light suddenly appears behind you, your shadow gets taller and taller until it finally leaves you. Alone, you don't dare look behind you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up despite the warmth radiating from behind. Trepidation howls inside you.

Blood rushes in your ears, knuckles tighten, nails digging into skin as crimson drips on the tall grass below.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, curiosity wins over you.

You dare look behind.

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adiraargent · 5 months

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Stargazing - Regulus Black

wc: 1.1k warnings: fluff, established relationship Summary: Regulus takes your stargazing, showing off his knowledge

The night sky stretched above you like a vast canvas, speckled with an array of twinkling stars. It was Saturday night and Regulus told you he wanted some alone time with just the two of you and had suggested stargazing. So you both found yourselves nestled in a secluded corner of the Hogwarts grounds, away from the castle's hustle and bustle.

As you lay on a soft blanket spread across the grass, wrapped up in both Regulus' jumper and his right arm, Regulus pointed out the constellations one by one, his voice carrying a gentle cadence that seemed to match the serene stillness of the night.

You were so focused on where he was pointing that you didn't even notice the small, love-filled glances that he kept shooting in your direction. He couldn't help it, you just looked so beautiful, your slightly tired face, the reflection of the stars in your eyes, and your own constellation of freckles that kissed your cheeks.

"That cluster of stars over there," he began, his finger tracing the shape in the sky, his eyes shooting back up to the sky, "that's Orion's Belt. According to ancient myths, Orion was a great hunter, and those three stars mark his belt."

You listened intently, captivated by Regulus's passion for the stars and the tales woven within them. His explanations were accompanied by an endearing enthusiasm, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight as he shared the stories passed down through generations.

He continued, pointing out Cassiopeia, Draco, and Ursa Major, his voice laced with knowledge and fascination. Each constellation held a story, and Regulus narrated them with such vividness that it felt as if the stars had come alive in the sky above you.

As the night deepened, you found yourself lost in the beauty of the celestial display, but it wasn't just the stars that enchanted you; it was Regulus's gentle presence and the way he spoke with such reverence for the night sky.

He looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "See that constellation there? That's Lyra, the harp. It's said to represent the lyre played by the legendary musician Orpheus."

You marveled at how Regulus's eyes lit up as he spoke, his passion for astronomy making the night feel more magical. His words painted a vivid picture of the ancient tales behind each star cluster, and you couldn't help but be drawn deeper into his explanations.

The conversation shifted from constellations to more personal topics. Regulus spoke about his dreams, his aspirations, and his deepest thoughts, and you reciprocated, sharing your own hopes and fears under the vast canopy of stars.

Neither of you were 100% sure what you wanted to do when you graduated, but you both knew you wanted to move out from home as soon as possible... the two of you spoke of running off together and then maybe starting a career in Quidditch. Regulus smiled softly as he watched you go on a mini rant about how when you get your shared house, the two of you could get a bunch of pets.

Occasionally, the conversation would quiet down, and you both would just lie there, side by side, enveloped in the tranquility of the night. The peace was punctuated by soft whispers, the occasional laughter, and shared glances that spoke volumes.

Regulus turned on his side, now wrapping both his arms around you and pulling you into his chest, "Reg?"

You were confused by his sudden movement, he had went from looking at the stars to now having his face buried into your neck, his warm breathes tickling your skin.

"Jus' don' want ya to get co'" he mumbled into your neck, his voice muffled

"Mhmm," you grinned sarcastically, yet you still brought your hand up to his head, burying your fingers into his dark locks and massaging his scalp softly.

Time seemed to stand still in that moment, as if the stars themselves had aligned to create this perfect harmony between you and Regulus. It was as if the night had paused just for the two of you to exist within its tranquil embrace.

The two of you wished that it could be like this forever, both in your own little world wrapped in the arms of your love. A world where there was no war, no death eaters, no school and no parents who couldn't care less about you.

As the night deepened, the air grew cooler, and the soft touch of Regulus's lips on your forehead brought a warmth that transcended the night's chill. His tender gesture was a silent reassurance, a whisper of care that made your heart flutter.

With the stars as witnesses, you shifted closer to Regulus, the blanket now cocooning you both in a shared haven. His arm around you tightened ever so slightly, pulling you snug against his chest, a silent invitation to seek solace in his embrace.

In the midst of the cosmic spectacle above, your gazes locked in an unspoken understanding. The night's silence was interrupted only by the hushed exchanges between you both, the soft murmurs and shared confidences blending seamlessly with the gentle rustle of leaves.

In a moment of daring, your fingers found their way to Regulus's, intertwining with his in a tender clasp. It was a subtle gesture, but the electric current that surged between your intertwined hands spoke volumes, bridging the gap between you in a language that words couldn't convey.

Regulus's touch was a comfort, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with an unspoken promise of safety and belonging. His fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, a gesture that sent tingles down your spine and stirred emotions you couldn't quite articulate.

Under the starlit sky, Regulus leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple in a tender kiss, his silent declaration of affection warming your entire being. It was a gentle caress, a whisper of adoration that resonated deeper than any spoken words.

Regulus turned to you, a soft smile gracing his features. "Thank you for tonight," he said, his voice carrying a warmth that mirrored the celestial glow above. "I haven't felt this at peace in a long time."

You met his gaze, feeling a connection that transcended words, a sense of kinship and understanding that lingered in the silent spaces between your shared gazes.

"I could stay here forever," you whispered, a sentiment that echoed the unspoken bond between you and Regulus, forged under the infinite expanse of the night sky.

As the hours waned, Regulus shifted closer, his arm encircling you in a gentle hold. His lips found yours in a tender yet passionate kiss, a silent promise of unwavering devotion that lingered in the fleeting moments shared beneath the star-studded sky.

The night eventually bid its farewell, but the memories etched in the fabric of that evening remained—an intimate constellation of shared gazes, gentle touches, and stolen kisses that made the night an unforgettable testament to the love you both shared.

Written by adiraargent

Do not steal, copy or repost on another platform

Requests are open

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siriuslynutswrites · 21 days

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i was bored, and i just rewatched the first twilight movie on disney plus. i was itching to write something, and this is the abomination that came forth

T.N. | Twilight

edward!theodore nott x bella!reader

warnings; bestie, its twilight..... its so fucking unserious......

word count: 1.2k

“You need to see what I look like in the sunlight.”

You don’t even have time to comprehend his words, spoken in that truly maddening accent, before Theo’s frigid hand wraps around your arm, pulling you harshly towards him. In a blur, you find your thighs wrapped around his waist, and your fingers painfully dig into his shoulders. Your nails seem to rake across the abnormally hard skin, but Theo doesn’t seem to notice, a large stride making the wind billow your hair back.

In a knee-jerk response, your legs loop around him, and your hands scramble to fist his jacket, face pressed into his shoulder as he speeds up, weightlessly, up the side of the mountain. You even feel the wind of trees passing way too close for comfort to you, along with every measured, small breath he takes.

And then, just as fast as it started, it stops, your feet meeting the ground with undeniable force. You stumble, hands flying out in a windmill to balance you, and a palm cushions your side before you manage to crack against a massive boulder covered in moss. You shake your head slightly, trying to clear the dizziness away, and blink as you watch Theo step away.

His wide back is to you, and you watch a stray beam of sunlight filter through the trees, unforgiving in its relentless piercing of the canopy.

Theo swiftly pulls off his jumper, letting the fashionable cream tie around his waist as his hands start to unbutton the saxe blue shirt hugging his frame. “This is why we don’t show ourselves in sunlight. People would know we’re different.”

Your breathing has managed to return to normal, and you find your eyes glued to his frame while you ever so slightly push off the boulder, palm soaking quickly in the wet moss. It’s cold and icky against your skin, but you don’t pay it much mind as Theo starts to slowly turn around, step by step.

It’s gorgeous. His skin, dazzling more than a diamond. It looks like every pore, every line and angle and plain of his skin is bejewelled, sparkling away like a hundred silver flames. It glitters around his face, that white gold sheen making his already pale skin seem to glisten like a snowy flame, like a white star. The encrusting shimmer spreads down his chest, smooth, perfect skin untainted to your eyes, no bruise or scar visible, even in the sunlight.

Theo seems to take a deep breath, and then swallows thickly, his gaze falling to the ground before coming back up to you, “This is what I am.”

You’re honestly at loss for words. You’ve never seen anything like it before, not in any literature, movie or painting. It’s a new kind of beauty, yet undeniably the type that catches your attention and keeps it, your pupils trained on every glimmering sparkle.

He seems to be waiting for a reaction though, if his dark, heavy gaze is anything to go by, and you rouse yourself, first thought tumbling from your lips without much thought.

“It’s like diamonds.”

His lips press into a line, and he swallows again, eyes scanning across your face like he’s trying to read you; you know he can’t crack open the book of your mind, that he can’t run his wintry fingers along the pages of your thoughts and ideas.

“You’re beautiful.” Your voice is no more than a breathy whisper, but it’s true. He’s gorgeous, like a statue carved from melted stardust, every chip of the material perfect and ideal.

“Beautiful?” Theo scoffs a laugh, his head falling back as he chuckles, humourlessly. His dead, morose eyes seem to deny your words like nothing else. “This is the skin of a killer, Y/N.”

He turns away sharply, the golden-crusted stretches of skin hidden from your eyes once more as he rather violently moves away, sharp and jaggy with his movements, even within the inherited elegance.

You scramble to follow him, hopping over the low rocky ledge as you delve deeper into the forest, following his saxe shirt and broad shoulders. He obviously knows you’re following, but his eyes drag over his shoulder to lock with yours, self-loathing hammered into the lines of his golden irises.

“I’m a killer.” He announces, tone cold and desolate, not allowing any argument.

And yet you still try. “I don’t believe that.”

Despite his heavy gaze, and the obvious importance of the situation, your feet scramble and trip over the thick roots of a tree you follow him past, hands scrabbling to uphold you against the bark.

“It’s because you believe the lie.” He scoffs, an Italian swear word dripping like poison gold off his tongue. “It’s camouflage.”

There’s a dark pause, only filled with the crinkle of green leaves and your soft breath.

“I’m the world’s most dangerous predator. Everything about me invites you in.” Theo’s voice drops low, horrified, like he’s disgusted with who he is and the fact that despite everything, you’re standing in front of him. “My voice. My face. Even my smell. As if I would need any of that.”

If you weren’t hanging off his every word, eyes stitched to his face, you may have mistaken the next sound as a soft laugh when he turns away. You blink, and suddenly, he’s gone.

There’s the sound of a thump behind you, and you whirl around, stumbling as your palm steadies you against a soggy tree. Theo’s crouched on a rocky outcrop, a few metres higher, and his shoulders strain with tension as he glares at you, seething.

“As if you could outrun me!”

You huff a breath, and just barely manage to catch the blur of him as he jumps off the outcrop, speeding off in a whirl.

You twist, only just keeping up with him, and blink to find his face just a bit further from yours, his eyes wide and furious as he almost disbelievingly says, “As if you could fight me off.”

His large palm hooks around the root of the tree, and he rips it out, twisting in the same fluid movement to send it crashing into the branches of another. The wet wood creaks and groans, leaves shuddering to the ground as the root shatters.

Your gaze snaps back up to his, your heart starting to hammer like crazy once more when his eyes, so cruelly beautiful, lock with yours once more.

“I’m designed to kill.” He whispers, his accent heavier, hotter, like the prevalent heat of summer. His lids droop, and you swallow, shaking your head softly.

“I don’t care.” Your voice is just a smidge louder than his, and he looks away, disappointment clear in his features.

“I’ve killed people before.” He admits, as if that’s supposed to scare you off.

“It doesn’t matter.” You offer, taking him in as a whole as he stands there, clearly agitated yet so put together.

“I wanted to kill you.” The confession is breathed into the air, the meaning of it falling thick on you, like a smothering blanket of shock. You blink, once, twice, and then grin.

“Do it, no balls.” Your voice challenges, ringing sharp and clear through the woods.

He clearly needs no more encouragement.

idk wtf this is

#marcie shitposts ✭˖*°࿐#marcie writes ✭˖*°࿐#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #wtaf #idk what this is #i need to go to sleep icl #so cute #my brain is melting out my ears

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onenicebugperday · 1 year

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@mortimermcmirestinks submitted: Found in [removed] (please remove location) in late March, right around the start of the warm rainy spring season. It was big for a jumping spider… I wanna say maybe over a centimeter leg-span?

I looked it up and I think maybe canopy jumping spider?

What a ding dang cutie pie! And those blue-green chelicerae are beautiful. Definitely a canopy jumper!

#animals #bugs #spider #arachnids #submission #jumping spider #canopy jumpign spider #phidippus #phidippus otiosus

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es46 · 14 days

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I am ecstatic to present an improved rendition of prior upload Jansilla, as provided by the superb artist Bishyantir - Diamond Graphics (@Bishyantir) / X (twitter.com) This temnoceran is known to lurk within the dense canopies of forests, waiting patiently for its preferred prey- wingdrakes- to pass by. An incredible jumper, it can leap, scuttle and climb with incredible speed, easily evading its enemies or ambushing targets. If cornered, Jansilla reveals the bioluminescent membranes extended from its hindlimbs and abdomen to confuse the attacker.

#fanart #monster hunter #temnoceran #arthropod #arachnids

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mill3rrrd · 1 month

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DEAR DIARY b hoover

“these bitch boys come too neeky, lying on a bitch that they can’t even have..” – ceechynaa

cw. reader has diagnosed anger issues (not really talked about too much but implied), slight violence and injury description, bertie has a big fat crush on reiner

wc. 4.1k

synopsis. you and bertholdt get off on the wrong foot, maybe you misinterpreted his gaze. to your friends’ dismay, you made yet another foe.

chapter two. forced proximity

dear diary,

ymir’s been pushing a friendship between me and bertholdt. i finally got introduced to him, but i don’t like him. he has this weird look in his eye. i know i said he likes me, but now i think its deeper than that. like obsession. it’s actually scary, the way he looks at me. i don’t mean to sound snobby, but it’s easy to tell when a guy likes you. they ogle you, they’re always making sure they’re within distance of you at all times.

i got a good look at him like i said i would. i can acknowledge good looks, he’s actually one of the better looking few. a tall glass of water, as one might say. he is, infact, VERY tall. bertholdt clearly works out. but he lacks confidence. that’s why nobody sees him.. or maybe just me, but anyone could tell he’s somewhat insecure. the sadness surrounding him says it all. and he’s a sloucher.

i think ymir wants us to ‘get together’ more than ‘be friends’ because of what she said to me two days ago. ‘i think bertholdt’s taken a liking to you.’ well i haven’t. he’s sort of weird. and again, he’s reiner’s one hand man.

you sighed, checking the time on your phone. 07:48.. historia and ymir would be here soon to pick you up, which explained the shorter-than-usual diary entry. you put your diary back in its usual spot and stood up to collect your bag. you weren’t really hungry for breakfast this particular morning, so you sat in your room until mr reiss pulled up in the front of your mom’s driveway.

you could hear the rain beating down on your window, you weren’t even sure your tights could stay somewhat dry from the time you left your house and got to the car. voices came from beyond your open door which meant your brother and mom were heading downstairs. you decided to follow them, smoothing down your jumper and ignoring the blazer hung up on your desk chair. you prayed that you didn’t run into principal kruger..

a car pulled up and the horn honked, you knew it was your friends, so you shouted to your family that you were leaving and swung your coat onto your arms. grabbing your bag by the small hook at the top, you opened the door and made a beeline for the car.

the interior was warm, seats heated and all. you shivered as you greeted your friends and started up conversation like the usual.

screaming, historia grabbed your’s and ymir’s hands. the three of you ran, people who were stupid enough to stay outside giving you all looks of disapproval. as usual, reiner’s group was on the steps—or under the canopy for cover from the rain—it seemed as though they were watching you three, waiting, even. unfortunately, there was no sign of annie or pieck which meant they were probably inside already or just hadn’t told you that they were staying home.

water splashed up at your ankles, soaking your tights and shoes. that would definitely be something you would all complain about later. you could feel and hear the rain hitting your coat, muffled paps! acting like a surround sound in your hood. ymir laughed, holding historia’s hand closer to her body while your hand left hers.

the three of you got to the steps, historia taking one quick step at a time whereas you and ymir skipped a few at a time. the slab of concrete you stepped on was, clearly, really wet. wet enough for you to slip backwards. a minimal shriek left your lips, eyes widening in shock. from the corner of your eye, you could see your friends lurch forward until they looked up–behind you.

a really, really big hand and pressed itself against the small of your back, preventing your fall. you could feel their hand curl around your waist as they prepped you upright. your hood slipped down, exposing your head to the onslaught of april showers and exposing your identity to the person who saved you.

“easy now..” he murmured, “you really shouldn’t run in such weather.” that sad and bored voice. bertholdt. you turned around, seeing him barely leaning over the railing that split the stairs and his arm extended to where his hand supported you.

“what the hell..” you didn’t intend to have such malice and snob take over the tone of your voice, but it just happened. you didn’t even notice he was there! you didn’t see him at all, just where does he come from.. and his hand was lingering. you were stood up and safe, he could let you go.

you could tell bertholdt caught onto your tone because his hand quickly returned to his side and his eyes examined you. his body straightened, rain droplets littering his blazer far quicker than they hit your coat. where even was his coat? it looked like his head touched the sky.

a twitch began in bertholdt’s upper lip which barely made a scene on his face. but you saw it. you sort of felt bad for the audacity you had to think how rude..

was i really that entitled? worry was seeping into your throat.

but if it really bothered him, bertholdt wouldn’t let you hear it, “a good ‘thank you’ would work too..” a flat, tired tone. you hummed, eyes swirling with distaste, “yeah, some other time..” he was one of reiner’s friends.

ymir and historia watched the scene from their spots on the two steps ahead of you, silently giving each other a know-it-all look: eyebrows raised, eyelids low, and a smirk adorning their lips.

a scoff came the group of boys receiving cover from the rain. everyone’s eyes turned to reiner, who pushed himself to the front, clearly not impressed by the scene he just witnessed.

“i wish you’d let her fall,” reiner frowned, looking bertholdt in the eye. you rolled your own, returning to historia’s side. with a cough, you murmured, “i wish your mom didn’t hoe around..” referring to the fact reiner was an affair baby.

“speak louder, y/n, we all know you have a big mouth so use it!” reiner’s tone almost sent you rigid, almost. with a smile, you turned to his burly figure, “you heard me..”

bertholdt returned to reiner’s side, like a dog, eyes looking through you, “i don’t think you’re one to talk about being a hoe..” boystrous laughter erupted amongst reiner’s friends. one of them even had the nerve to say good one, bertholdt.

“i’m sorry? i don’t even know who you are and according to ymir, i’ve gone to school alongside you since the first grade so maybe you need to learn something from me and get. it. up.” your lips popped, expanding your word’s influence. their laughter ceased and bertholdt’s cheeks warmed.

“and maybe, if you quit dick riding big brother, you’ll feel better about yourself,” you snickered, bringing up reiner’s nickname. ymir and historia giggled as you walked with them to the entrance but as you passed, bertholdt had whispered something he’d wish he hadn’t said.

“shut up, bitch..” bitch? like a dog? reiner had called you that once, he ended up with a bust lip from just a slap. squatting down, you picked up a piece of stray slate and looked at it in your palm.

“did i hear that right?” you whispered, your question directed at your friends. ymir chuckled, though it was clear she was more unsettled and historia frowned, “y/n, don’t do it..”

like a switch, your shocked expression turned into an angry one and you turned around, launching the piece of slate towards bertholdt’s face. a chorus of ‘oo’s sounded amongst the boys aswell as the sound of rock meeting rock. the tallest boy pulled his hand back from his face, staring at the few dots of blood on his hand. a gash went from his left nostril to just under his left eye.

“next time, i’ll shove my house keys in your eye!” your friends guided you inside, ignoring the eyes of any witnesses. with a small chuckle, bertholdt stared at your retreating figure, “have you got issues or something?” at this point, he was trying to protect whatever masculinity he had left.

he was thankful that ymir and historia had convinced you to leave his second comment alone.

bertholdt noticed how you always found the nerve in someone to strike. he, himself, was too angry to even feel the pain of the gash on his face, stop dick riding reiner? did she know? replacing the pain in bertholdt’s face, a sickness swirled in his abdomen. what if he did feel better if he just gave up on pursuing reiner?

she deserved it, she has no manners, i helped her and she couldn’t even thank me..

reiner broke his friend out of his silence, patting him on the shoulder, “thanks, man, always at my defence!” the praise made happiness replace that sickness. reiner was proud and maybe bertholdt could pursue him for just a while longer.

“ah, it’s no worry..” bertholdt rubbed the back of his neck, ignoring how the rain was washing the blood down his face and creating a pool in his philtrum. the blonde removed his hand, gesturing to the cut, “you might wanna get that checked, though, the rock looked dirty..”

with a slow nod, bertholdt’s eyes flickered all over reiner’s face, “yeah, i will.”

after reiner stepped away, his friends crowded him to congratulate him on ‘taking it like a champ’ or to show genuine care about his injury. what was common, however, was that they all prided him in ‘resisting the temptation of the slut.’

you and your girls reunited at your usual table at break. your sour mood shifted when you had all sat down with your food, finally getting a chance to rant about it.

“i actually hate bertholdt,” you grumbled, resting your cheek on your fist, “he’s made it onto the same list as reiner.”

ymir sighed and took a bite of her sandwhich, “here we go..” pieck and annie shared looks of confusion before the black haired girl decided to ask, “what happened?”

“i am so glad you asked!” for the next five minutes, you explained how bertholdt caught you, reiner got pissy about it and suddenly he switched up and started belittling you. you spent an extra amount of time talking about how bertholdt called you a bitch.

with a gasp, pieck set down her drink, “bertholdt hoover? he called you a bitch? like ‘super quiet, minds his business, wouldn’t hurt a fly’ bertholdt hoover?” you nodded, confirming pieck’s questions. annie chuckled, “it’s always the quiet ones who really have a lot to say, even if they don’t say it, y’know?”

“don’t leave out how you said to him ‘what the hell?’ and gave him the most grossed out look ever when he caught you..” historia chided, though humour was evident in her voice. with a sigh, you nodded, “i guess i did do that, but i felt bad about it, i still would if he didn’t call me a bitch..”

“how about we act out the whole scene, hisu?” ymir suggested, cheek evident in her voice. historia agreed. the two stood up, ymir acting as bertholdt and historia acting as you. historia fell backwards and ymir put her hand on her back, “oh y/n, take it easy, what if you fell?” she made a goo-goo voice, pouting at historia who acted faint, a hand over her forehead.

“bertholdt, please let go, if you hold on any longer, i’ll fall in love!” the two broke out of character, laughing, though ymir was significantly louder than historia which caught a few people’s ears.

“har, har,” you dropped sarcastically, “that’s definitely how it went..” the girls sat back down. ymir leaned forward, her right forearm resting on the table, “oh, it is how it went.”

“i think if you had actually acknowledged him instead of not acknowledging him, you two would be cute,” historia shrugged, picking at her chicken salad, “it’s ashame you two got off on the wrong foot, he usually is quite nice.”

“wait.. have you all spoken to him?” everyone on your table said yes.

“i grew up with reiner, of course i’ve spoken to bertholdt,” ymir said matter-of-factly. historia told you that he’d tag along to ymir’s with reiner when he goes to ymir’s for meals and gatherings.

annie’s lip twitched in reminiscence, “we did cubscouts together.” nodding with her mouth full, pieck put her thumbs up. it had been brought up in a past conversation that pieck and annie attended cubscouts together. ymir patted your back, “it’s okay, it’s only because of reiner that people notice him but you and reiner aren’t close so nobody blames you for not being aware of his friends.”

your head sank into your hands, “i just feel so bad, guys.. i threw a slab at him because he called me a bitch and nobody would’ve done that, that’s low even for me..” you pushed your food away, avoiding eye contact with your friends.

“what if you apologised?” historia and pieck suggested, “he was just trying to be nice in the first place, he didn’t have to catch you, y’know.”

with a raised brow and a scowl, you shook your head, “i’d rather not.. we both got back at each other so we’re even. it doesn’t mean i can’t feel bad about how i went about it, but bertholdt had it coming anyway.” annie hummed in agreement, tilting her head slightly, “even if he did help her, he still called her a hoe and a bitch. he’s really defensive over reiner but that’s no excuse.”

with a pat on the table, ymir chimed in, “yeah, in grade school, porco used to pick on reiner until he got bigger than him and bertholdt was always there for him. they’ve got this loyal brotherly bond, so you can’t blame him that much.”

“i guess not..” you agreed, “i’m not apologising though, i was justified.”

bertholdt examined his gash in the boy’s bathroom mirror. it was beginning to scab up but it was surprisingly deep. not that deep, but for a thin piece of rock? it slid into his face like a disk at such a scary force. reiner leaned on the cubicle behind him, “she’s so cute when she’s aggressive, she gets riled up so easily.”

“cute when you aren’t the victim maybe,” bertholdt frowned and turned around to face reiner, “miss magnolia said it’ll probably scar.”

a careless and loud laugh came from reiner, his head tilted back and arms crossed, “hey, atleast you can tell your kids about that battle scar, ‘yeah i survived the school’s witch and got a cool scar to remind me of my victory’.”

with an eyeroll, bertholdt unrolled his blazer’s sleeves, “y’know it feels like you aren’t my friend right now, you’re just some guy obsessed with a girl he calls a slut.” he was really done.

“c’mon, you know i like her, it’s expected by now, surely,” reiner scoffed but bertholdt scowled at him. scowled. his eyes blazed with unsaid sadness, anger, and betrayal. bertholdt had been nothing but loyal to reiner all his life. but it was clear that reiner wouldn’t do the same, he’s already throwing him to the wolves over a girl. the girl that reiner influenced the slut title to. the girl that reiner had picked on since grade school even though he knew what it was like to be picked on.

“i dont care wether you like her or not, you should leave her alone, drop it. you make her life miserable, can’t you see that? she hates you. you can’t even appreciate your friends anymore with her in the way. have you suddenly misplaced your loyalty? pick, reiner, the slut or me, your best friend?”

bertholdt was taken aback by the stammer in his friend’s voice. it wasn’t a hard choice. reiner should’ve been able to say you, bertholdt. because they were friends. best friends. bertholdt was selfish. he wanted more. he wanted to have reiner to himself, he needed reiner to just accept your unattainability. gosh, he’d even happily go back to when porco hated him and marcel had to apologise on his behalf. when he’d step in when reiner got kicked down and he’d sometimes get kicked down twice as hard. but they had each other.

bertholdt’s father once told him that companionship didn’t require an intimate relationship. companionship was brotherhood. someone to carry along with you so there was familiarity thoughout the tough and newest stages of life.

but it seemed he left a part out. maybe, just maybe, companionship was also seeing a friend off at the station when they couldn’t venture on that same train anymore to seek out the adventure and difference they craved. however, another person replaced his friend. an unfamiliar person who happened to be getting on the train bertholdt still lingered on because he was the one who couldn’t get off and experience unfamiliarity. so the unfamiliarity came to him instead. that person had gotten off a different train and was curious enough to venture into the unknown. the unknown that bertholdt knew so well.

“i see..” bertholdt’s tongue clicked, “when you can make up your mind, come find me.” as if on queue, the bell rang to signal the end of break. the door to the bathroom swung shut and bertholdt found himself in a crowded hallway.

it was a struggle to get to the stairwell leading to the third floor of the english block, but bertholdt got there in the end. mr berner didn’t appreciate tardiness and expected everyone in their seats by the time the bell rang the second time.

thankfully enough, he made it just before and settled in his seat by the window in the 3rd row back. however, as the second bell rang you and ymir walked through the door. bertholdt knew that you and him were in the same english class, but now he was very aware of it. you sat in the back corner with ymir infront of you. on diagonal sides of the room. but he was suddenly aware of his every move, as if you were watching him.

mr berner rose in his chair, “alright class, settle down.” he took the register before explaining the lesson. it was relatively boring, just him explaining p-e-e paragraphs and how to use each aspect of it into the paragraph. then, he gave everyone ten minutes to write one on why lady macbeth was significant to the plot. which wasn’t necessarily a hard task. if it was macduff, for instance, anyone would’ve struggled.

for the last quarter of the lesson, mr berner announced there would be a partner project set for homework, “you have about a month to complete it. i will hand out a card to half of the students in here and you will partner up.”

ymir turned around in her seat, grinning at you and raising her hand for you to return a high five. you smiled too until your teacher interrupted your happiness, “however, due to complications last time we did something like this, i will be choosing your partners.”

a collective groan sounded out throughout the classroom as mr berner walked down the centre aisle. the classroom was layed out as a four by six meaning there was twenty-four students and twelve would recieve a card. as he returned to the front, mr berner called out, “as some of you can see, the cards are not based on shakespear but greek mythology..”

“that is because we are nearing the end of the semester and at the start of the next one, we will focus on classical languages,” your teacher explained, standing infront of the projector screen, “you have all been given twelve different mythologies to study and create some sort of fact file. it can be physical, like a drama performance or something more factual like a display board. as long as it isn’t basic or boring! you will lose marks if there is too few information.”

a smirk fell onto his face as he examined his students, noticing how the lazier few of his students seemed to deflate, “now, i have already picked your partners based on what side of the room you’re on..” he murmured, bending down to his computer and clicking on the document that contained the partner list. one by one, he called out names.

“marlowe and hannah, mina and ymir, bertholdt and y/n..” it almost flew over your head, almost. ymir turned back around to snicker at you and laugh at your luck, “milieus and thomas..” you didn’t listen to the rest of the names. you were stuck with bertholdt.

“you have five minutes to make arrangements with your partner before i dismiss you!” with a heavy groan, you said goodbye to ymir and headed towards bertholdt’s seat since he had the card. mouth flatlined, bertholdt held his hand up like a dry wave, quickly putting it down. you pulled a chair over from the empty desk infront of him and turned it around, sitting opposite of bertholdt.

“what’s on the card?” you asked, biting your cheek and looking at the healing line on his face. turning the card, it read apollo and daphne. you nodded, smacking you lips and producing an ah.. sound, “i know this one..”

“that’s useful, then,” bertholdt hummed, fingers drumming on the table, “we have a month so should we work on it every saturday until the due date?”

that was a good idea.. so you nodded, “yeah, that works, umm.. does your house work?” it felt really awkward. nonetheless, bertholdt agreed and exchanged numbers with you since you didn’t already have it. without another word, you returned to your seat just in time for ymir to come back too.

“he’s healing fine,” you shrugged, “we decided we’d do the project at his house on saturdays.” ymir whistled, “his house? nothing is getting done,” hinting to something more suggestive.

with a laugh, she picked up her bag just as the bell rang. you rolled your eyes, “everything is getting done, ymir, honestly mr berner is not my favourite right now!”

back into the hall you went, heading towards history. you had parted ways with ymir when you left the building to cut across campus for a shortcut. and she didn’t have history but religious studies instead. you hoped you would meet armin along the way.

he was a nice boy, though he got picked on by reiner like you. you were sort of happy to have someone to rant to about it other than your friends and mr smith. however, armin was starting to come out of his shell and the last time you saw him, he had gotten a haircut. you thought it suited him. he was nowhere near ugly, even with the bob cut he donned since he could grow hair.

“y/n, hey!” just who you were hoping to see, “hi armin, ready for history?” he nodded and walked with you to mr smith’s classroom.

bertholdt dragged a palm down his face as he entered his photography class. he had been mentally cursing himself for the awkward interaction in english, he didn’t even want you at his house bertholdt was just incapable of saying no. he didn’t want you to see the state of his sick father, a feeling deep down telling him you were judgy like that. he could’ve suggested the local library or even your house, but honestly, he wasn’t risking bringing out the bratty attitude that was getting too comfortable with him.

bertholdt didn’t know where all these negative beliefs about you came from. he knew he was jealous of you, he didn’t know you enough to hate you but everything he felt for you was close to it. did he actually hate you? or was it jealousy talking..

sure, you dashed something in his face and scarred it, but he did name call you, but you were clearly ungrateful about him saving you from a potentially broken neck. sitting down in his seat, that familiar sickness pooled. you were really fucking up things for him and reiner. you determined their current friendship and you didn’t like either of them. it had him thinking about the delirious possibility that you could be a witch.

bertholdt had mixed feelings about you, just not in a positive light.

#bertholdt hoover x reader #aot fic #aot x reader #annie leonhart #aot ymir #historia reiss #reiner braun #snk fanfiction #fanfiction #bertholdt hoover #female reader

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jaejoongs-nipple-piercing · 6 months

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A Cozy Autumn Date

@emeraldbabygirl

He had been monitoring the weather forecasts for the last couple weeks to make sure everything was perfect. It had to be. Your date was something very special to him and he wanted you both to be able to look back and cherish it.

So when he finally saw the day in the forecast that would be absolutely perfect, he started getting things set up. Which was a little hard to do in between his daily fights against the other school gangs, but this was something important that just had to be done.

He called up a few places for food catering and dining out, just for price ranges and locations, options-that sort of thing. He called to find a very specific type of flower bouquet and since it was a seasonal kind they always sold out quickly. Upset that nobody had any left over, he decided he would make you one from scratch, hoping that even though it wasn’t store-bought you would at least like it a little.

Finally finding a place that was still open on October 31st proved more difficult then he thought.

“People really like going on Halloween dates? Maybe I’ll keep that in mind.”

After about a week he found one. He gave the owner all the information that was asked for and he asked about the location, directions (since he was never really sure how to get to these places), and time slots. Picking the second-to-last slot, he thanked the owner many times.

“No problem, young man. I hope you enjoy your date.”

Then disaster struck: the week of your date everything was suddenly closed and unavailable. And it was showing rain all week.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Smoky fell to his knees in anguish. Your date was ruined.

“What’s up with you?” Fujio asked, walking into the room.

Smoky just glared at him.

“YOU!!”

Fujio stepped back, startled.

“H-hey bro, I-I-I didn’t do anything. I didn’t hit you, r-right? C-c-calm d-down.”

Fujio backed up so far he hit the wall, now Smoky was right in his face.

“You’re going to help me with my date since the weather ruined my plan. Got it?”

“Okay..?”

“Good! Now here’s what you have to do. Get some people from Oya and Murayama, oh and Rao too, and…”

October 31st, at the break of dawn, everyone was gathered in the gym they fought Senomon in, working out the details of this date.

“Ok, so I know we’d rather be fighting each other, but I really need your help. As you know, it’s soaking wet out which put a damper on my date plans and everything was suddenly closed up. So I need you guys to do some behind-the-scenes magic for me to make this a great date. If everything goes well, I’ll hold off on beating you guys for a month.”

“So what do we do?”

“Ah, Todoroki and Odejima! Ok I need you guys to go get these things for a pretty fall bouquet since everyone ran out.”

“What am I doing here, again?”

“Murayama, you are Mr.Muscle. I need you to drive the tractor. But please go slow- it’s supposed to be a nice date, not a car race.”

Murayama scowled, but nodded his head in acceptance.

Fujio and Rao were already off setting up a cute little corn maze and a pumpkin-lined path for the tractor. Murayama came over to help put a canopy up over the cart the tractor would be pulling. When Odejima and Todoroki finished with the bouquet assembly they helped Smoky put some hay bales into the cart for the two of you to sit on.

“Now we wait. Meet me here in 2 hours.”

~~~~~~

Your boyfriend Smoky hadn’t contacted you in a few days, so when he finally did you asked him what was happening. Did he get hurt real bad in a fight this time?

“No, no I’m fine. Hey do me a favor, will ya? Put on a cute outfit, maybe bring a light jacket or a sweater, and meet me outside. I’m gonna take you somewhere you’ll like.”

You smiled. “Ok, I’ll be right down.”

Hanging up and charging your phone for a little bit, you go to look for an outfit.

Urgh!! I have nothing to wear! You groan, tearing apart your closet. You finally decided on a black corduroy jumper and a fuzzy lavender sweater, paired with some Bearpaw boots. You grab a windbreaker and unplug your phone, putting it into your jacket pocket. You want to look nice for Smoky so you put on a little makeup-mascara and some lip gloss is enough. You practically ran downstairs to the door, yelling your goodbyes to your pets as you left. You locked the door and ran to Smoky, flinging yourself into his arms.

“I missed you! Are you sure you’re ok?”

Smoky just chuckled, “Yeah, I’m great. Here, let’s get going,” he said, opening the passenger door of his 1975 Ford Bronco for you.

It didn’t take as long as either of you thought it would to get to the date place, and when you got to the parking lot Smoky told you to close you eyes.

“It’s a surprise, so you have to keep them closed. I’ll guide you there.”

You were surprised now. “Ok, then. Lead the way.”

You feel the hard ground under your boots, hear the leaves crunching a little through the water on top of them. There’s a faint smell of rain and something else you can’t quite place.

“Hey gimme a hint! Where are we?”

Smoky chuckled. “Not very patient, are we? You’ll see soon.”

He loved this about you, so sweet and always curious about things. And the way you cared so deeply about him.

The two of you stopped after a few more feet, and he warned you first before continuing.

“Ok, I need you to grab my neck. I’m going to lift you to the next part.”

Confused, you wrapped your arms gently around his neck, and the he proceeded to lift you princess-style into the cart. He came up shortly after, helping you to your feet. He walked you over to the hay bales, and gently helped you sit down on one.

“Why is this seat so prickly? Can I open my eyes now please?”

Smoky just about bursted from being so giddy.

“No, not yet. Almost.”

He reached over and flicked the fairy lights that Todoroki and Odejima had put up around the inside of the cart. Then he grabbed a lap blanket for the two of you. He sat down next to you and spread the blanket over your laps.

“Now.”

You opened your eyes and were absolutely amazed. What you saw before you was more than you could have asked for in a date from Smoky. You were in a cart in a pumpkin patch, with a corn maze and a path lined with pumpkins for the tractor to go through.

Smoky handed you the bouquet Todoroki and Odejima made, nervously.

“Do you like it? Is it ok for a late fall date?”

Your eyes were suddenly moist. You were so happy he put this much thought into your date.

“Yes, of course I like it. I love this idea so much!”

Smoky signaled to Murayama to start the tractor, but he didn’t.

“MURAYAMA!”

Still nothing.

“Murayama called in sick, he said he didn wanna see you guys bein all mushy gushy on each other.”

“Oh no.”

Murayama called in sick? Really? That could only mean one thing. He got Binzo to drive.

“Please tell me you know how to drive a tractor?!”

The tractor started, and you were surprised at how smooth it was. Then the driver turned around.

“I put off my date with Todoroki for this, so you owe me.”

“Odejima!! Hi, I’m glad to see you!”

Odejima. Odejima is driving. Ok, now you can relax.

Hours later after you went through the pumpkin patch and path, picked out a couple pumpkins to carve later, and got spooked in the corn maze, it was dark. You got up go jump down off the cart but Smoky was faster.

“Here, I’ll go first.”

Smoky jumped down from the cart and turned around. Spreading his arms like he wanted you to jump into them.

“Now you.”

Smoky stood there smiling, and since he had given you such a nice date and even got a lot of the boys to help, you decided to let him have this.

You jumped down into his arms, scared that you would fall. But he caught you, swinging you around.

“I know this wasn’t the best date, but I hope it was ok.”

“Smoky, I already said it was great. I loved it. I mean, a date in a pumpkin patch and all our friends came to help you out? That’s amazing. And I did catch glimpses of Fujio, Rao and Binzo so that was fun too.”

“BINZO WAS HERE THE WHOLE TIME?!?”

Smoky was shocked.

“It’s fine, he only came in to see how we were doing. He didn’t want me to tell you until after and he said you promised no beatings for a month.”

“Grr, but he’s exempt. He didn’t help. So he gets the punishment.”

“Smoky, don’t ruin the date we had. I don’t think it’s over yet.”

Smoky looked at you, now he was the confused one. The date wasn’t over? Yes it was. This was all he had planned.

You walked toward Smoky, now you were nervous again.

“I want you to close your eyes, please.”

Smoky just looked at you, blinking.

“Smokyy! Please? I have something for you.”

Smoky reluctantly closed his eyes.

“Now put your hands out toward me, face up.”

He did, still confused. You put your hands in his, squeezing them so you had a good grip. Then you got on your toes (since he was a bit taller than you) and kissed him on the cheek. You got so embarrassed and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Smoky opened his eyes and saw you, beet red. He was also blushing-you had never kissed before so it was a first for both of you. He walked toward you and gently took your head in his hands, giving you a light peck on the forehead.

Both of you were still blushing when Smoky turned to you and said it was getting late.

“Yeah, let’s go home.”

#fanfic #my fanfic #smoky #High&Low smoky #High&Low #high and low smoky #high and low #rao #Fujio #Todoroki #Odejima #binzo #murayama

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definitionsfading · 10 months

Text

tartan

for your consideration; a domestic ficlet I did as a warm-up last night

content warnings: includes some adult humor between married celestial entities and Crowley is pregnant (by choice) ((the babies are Aziraphale’s)) (((ayy)))

+ + + + + +

It’d been something of a strange summer thus far, all things told. London volleyed between pouring rain and spiking heat waves every other week throughout the month of June, then trundled headlong into July with the tepid promise of milder weather. It was a sleight of hand trick meant to beguile and fool every weather forecaster in the country, because after the rains passed one morning the temperature dropped so low that Aziraphale had to pull his wool cardigan back out of the upstairs wardrobe.

But if mother nature was temperamental and unpredictable that summer, well—she had nothing on a pregnant demon.

“I’m hardly a stone’s throw into the second bloody trimester and already nothing fits,” Crowley moaned from where he’d flopped back onto the bed with the button of his trousers still undone, the garment in question butterflied open at the zip. “Not even a vest top. Meanwhile, it’s sodding July and we’re wearing jumpers, as if my entire existence weren’t already enough of a sick joke.”

Aziraphale poked his head out of the adjacent water closet, fingers still busy tidying up his cufflinks, and appraised the grim sight on the bed. Crowley was right; every time he tugged down his black cotton vest it would simply roll up over the rounded swell of his middle again.

“Don’t get yourself in a tip, dear, I’m sure we’ll be able to pop out to the shops and find something suiting,” Aziraphale said, stepping further into the room to wander over to the bedside. “Even if it’s unseasonably cool, I think this weather is a far cry better than the heat for somebody in your condition.”

“My condition, he says,” Crowley snorted, golden eyes flashing just before he draped a dramatic forearm across his face and moaned again. “This is your fault, you know—we only really needed the one baby and here your angelic super sperm had to go and knock me up twice as hard. I’d still be fitting into my trousers if I weren’t busy stuffing my face for three.”

Aziraphale laughed, warm palms landing on the knobby shapes of Crowley’s knee caps. “Now see here,” he countered, “I wouldn’t have been able to do that if it weren’t for your overindulgent ovaries releasing two eggs during the same cycle. You’re just as much to blame, if not more.”

Crowley made another wretched sound but let his arm roll away from his face, gazing up at his husband with a pitiful hangdog expression around his eyes. “But m’cold, angel,” he said, pouting out his lower lip. “I can’t very well go out looking like this, and what’s the point in buying anything—? When I must be gaining a fresh inch around the middle overnight at this rate.”

“Because you’re healthy, darling, and your body is doing a remarkable job of sustaining our growing children,” Aziraphale reminded him, letting his hands slide down to Crowley’s thighs as a telling flush bloomed on the demon’s chest and began crawling toward his throat. “If you weren’t growing accordingly I think we’d have more cause for concern. From my point of view, I don’t think you’ve ever been as gorgeous as you are right now.”

“Yeah, but I can be butt-arse naked in front of you, you sentimental git,” Crowley groused, wriggling there with Aziraphale leaning between his spread knees. “All that greeting card swill doesn’t solve the problem of me busting all the seams in my clothes if I so much as sneeze.”

Aziraphale thought about that for a moment, with genuine effort, and then smiled. “I think I may have a temporary solution, if you’re amenable to it.”

“Which is?” Crowley asked, arching a gingery eyebrow, but Aziraphale was already pushing away from the bedside and whisking back over to the old wardrobe.

Crowley laid there in resignation for a few beats, gazing up at the velvet canopy of the four-poster until Aziraphale started sliding hangers on the rail and curiosity got the better of him. By the time he could manage to hoist himself back up into a sitting position again, the angel was already standing at the bedside with an assortment of clothing folded over one arm.

“Oh no, absssolutely not,” Crowley started, eyes widening at the sight of some camel coloured slacks. “I’d rather go out full starkers, angel, than be caught dead—”

“Do hush, you utter fiend, it’s not that bad,” Aziraphale tutted over him with a roll of his eyes, holding up a jumper with a flourish meant to inspire. “This is pure Ladakhi cashmere, I’ll have you know. It’ll feel like French butter against your skin.”

Crowley pulled a doubtful face. “Dunno about you, but I’ve never been one to slather myself in butter on a real lark,” he muttered, but reached out and took the sweater anyway, a cream and camel-based tartan with a thin blue stripe. He swore as he pulled it on over his head, and then proceeded to sit very still on the edge of the bed as they both looked down at the offending garment. The cashmere accommodated his belly perfectly, neither too snug nor too loose where it draped around his figure as if it’d been made bespoke.

“That was pure luck,” Crowley said, plucking at the sleeves. “There’s no way in utter creation those trousers will fit me.”

Aziraphale only held them out with another glowing smile. “Give them a try, love, if only to indulge a doddering old angel.”

It took some grumbling and a few more choice swears once Crowley was standing, but he stepped one foot at a time into the slacks and then—rather miraculously, all in all—hoisted them up so they fastened without a hitch just under his navel.

“Ngk,” Crowley said, once Aziraphale had pulled the tartan jumper down and straightened the hem for him. “Uhm.”

“You look so handsome,” Aziraphale crowed as his hands clasped together, corners of his eyes crinkling up in joy. “Go over and have a peek in the looking glass for yourself.”

Crowley sauntered over to the mirror and appraised his reflection from the front, and then the very new and ever-changing side profile. He cupped a hand under his growing bump and pulled a frown, but it began to wobble a bit just as soon as he caught Aziraphale’s adoring expression peering at him in the glass.

“Do I look fat?” he asked in a tremulous sort of laugh, just before Aziraphale’s arms circled around his middle and pressed the tartan cashmere more flush against Crowley’s skin. Damn it all to hell, it was as sodding soft as French butter.

“No, you’re positively radiant,” Aziraphale said, dropping a kiss onto Crowley’s shoulder there in their shared reflection. “Even better, wearing my colours like you are.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Crowley sniffled, feeling something unexpected and hot burning behind his eyes. “And what of it?”

“You look like you belong to me,” Aziraphale said in a velvety voice, bracing both hands underneath Crowley’s belly. “All mine to keep and adore for myself, I’m afraid.”

Crowley scoffed and reached up to dab at something on one cheek before wrinkling his nose. It was starting to get oddly warm in the bedroom all of a sudden. “Well, I suppose you’re right about that part,” he said. “Just this once.”

Aziraphale nodded, and this time felt the upward quirk of his husband’s dopey smile against his lips when he gently turned his face for a kiss. “Just this once,” he agreed amiably. “Do you think you’ll be warm enough to pop out to the shops, now?”

“If I must,” Crowley diplomatically decided, admiring his transformed reflection for another beat before turning to straighten Aziraphale’s bow tie. He leaned in for another chaste kiss, and then reached around to pinch a small handful of angelic bum. “The sooner we get out, the sooner we can do luncheon and come back to shag for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Impeccable logic, dear,” Aziraphale said with a breathy little laugh of his own. Crowley gave him a wink before stepping away to fetch his trainers and sunglasses, and only then did Aziraphale glance back to the looking glass and see that the tartan of his bow tie had somehow changed itself to match the colours on a certain demon’s cashmere jumper.

It was rounding out to be an interesting summer, indeed.

[if you enjoy fics like this one, feel free to check out my ineffable parents ficlet collection or other Good Omens works on AO3]

#good omens #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #Ineffable Husbands #good omens fic #ineffable spouses #ineffable parents

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