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cuubism · 1 year

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It’s 3pm on a rainy Wednesday, and Hob is sleepily grading student papers, when Death of the Endless appears in his flat, lies quietly down on the couch, and rests her head in his lap.

Hob stares down at her for a long moment, hands aloft in indecision, because this is not... something they do. By now he can say he calls Death a friend, and they get drinks together sometimes and chat, but this...

“Everything alright, love?” he asks, finally resting a hand on her shoulder.

“I don’t mean to disturb your peace,” Death says quietly. The TV Hob’s left on as background noise—some silly cooking show—nearly drowns out her voice entirely.

“Nothing peaceful about trying to find nice ways to tell my students they can’t write for shit,” Hob says, pushing his papers away. He can’t see Death’s face well like this, but he doesn’t like the uneven sound of her voice, not when she’s usually so level. “Disturb away.”

After a long moment in which they both just listen to the TV program host blather on about crumpets, Death says, “I am not affected by deaths.”

“…Alright,” Hob says, though he’s not convinced.

“I am…” Death continues, but trails off on a breath like a whistle of cold wind. “May I... stay here awhile?”

“‘Course.” Hob carefully pets at her head, strokes her hair. Worry is building, but he doesn’t think Death needs him to pull her words out of her the way he sometimes has to with Dream. She will speak when she’s ready. “Do you want to hear some truly fascinating attempts at historical analysis? Or is peace and quiet what you’re looking for?”

“You can speak if you wish,” Death says, still in that quiet tone.

So Hob tells her about some of his students, the ones who truly seem to have some promise in the field, and the others who he’s pretty sure are just mangling their papers together from sentences out of one of those AI things, if the originality is anything to go by. It’s disappointing but does make for humorous reading. Though really, Hob’s not sure whether to laugh or despair when he has to read lines like War has negative effects on people in an actual university academic paper. Wow, you don’t say.

He does manage to get a few chuckles out of his friend, but none with her usual humor and enthusiasm, and eventually he trails off, and they listen quietly to the background noise of the TV.

“Is there anything I can do?” Hob asks quietly.

“Can you control the future, Hob?” Death asks, a rhetorical question without any of her usual lightheartedness.

“Can’t even control the present,” Hob says. He just keeps his hands on her, one on her shoulder, one on the top of her head. Grounding, he hopes. And he thinks on what she’d said.

Hob knows that Destiny is the only Endless that operates in the future, but he has wondered, now that he understands them a bit better, if Death may not have a foot in that direction as well. She must know, some way, how to be where she must when she must.

Death has never seemed overly burdened by the past, even though history is a tower of bones a hundred miles high. Hob had asked, once — do all those terrible things ever bother you? you were there for them all —and all she had said was, “It has already happened,” with neither pleasure nor pain, just acceptance.

The future is another matter entirely.

“Is something going to happen?” he asks.

“I will not burden you with knowledge that is not yours to carry,” Death says.

So, that’s a yes.

“Maybe I could do something about it,” Hob suggests, though he suspects where that query will lead.

“You could not.”

“What about you, then?”

“That is not my place,” she says, though she sounds less certain about it than she usually is when discussing her function.

“You sure?” Hob asks.

“Were I to change fates for some, what excuse would I have for not doing so for all? Unfair things happen hourly, and always will. If I upend the balance, there is no telling how things would tip out of control down the road.”

It must be hard, Hob thinks, to be so powerful and yet so powerless.

“You did spare me,” he points out.

Death huffs, almost a laugh. “In truth, I shouldn’t have done that. Although I suspect Destiny had it written in his book for other purposes entirely.”

Huh. Well, that’s probably something Hob shouldn’t think on too hard for the sake of his own sanity.

“Well, I’m certainly not complaining about it,” Hob says, and Death chuckles.

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks, when they’ve been sitting for another few minutes in silence.

“I… do not have many friends,” Death says. Common family trait, then, Hob thinks. Not that it’s really so surprising. Death is very personable, but most of her interactions with people are, well… fleeting. And it can’t be easy to make normal friends, when you’re as expansive a being as one of the Endless.

“Stay for a while then,” Hob says. He pulls a blanket over her and tucks it around her shoulders. “Until you have to go.”

“Thank you, Hob,” says Death, still sounding incredibly weighed down by her function, but given a slight reprieve, perhaps.

Hob rubs her shoulder and thinks about these endless creatures he’s chosen to love. Do they have anyone else to worry about them? He doesn’t think so. It’s just Hob, and he doesn’t think that’s anywhere close to enough, but he’ll just have to do his best.

“Any time, love,” he tells her, and means it.

#hob death friendship my beloved #couple days later hob's got /two/ endless sitting depressed on his couch cuz lbr whatever unspecified mass casualty event happens is going #to fuck up death and dream both #rip #hob gadling #death of the endless #deathling #i mean it's not intended as shippy but that's my tag for the two of them right now #my writing #FINALLY one ongoing wip finished. thank you nano. it's a short one but still #sandman fic #just post the most random ficlet and then go back to work XD #me: i won't post anything during nano i'll just focus on writing. also me:

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 11 months

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What kind of drunk would the villagers of SDV be? 👀

Heh, it was so funny to write the answer to this ask right after my own hangover. Quite the experience, I would say 😅

I hope, anon, you don't mind if I don't write about Evelyn and George and the kids on this ask, because trying to imagine them drunk... is an unpleasant thought for me. But I will describe all the others (if I do not forget about someone). Thanks for your ask! ❤️

Drunk SDV villagers (except Evelyn, George and kids):

Oh what music! After 3 or 4 glasses of sambuca, Emily feels much more energetic (even more than usual) and simply has to find a potential victim partner to dance until they both fall to exhaustion. In the morning, however, she does not remember anything.

In general, Sebastian despises the taste of alcohol, but somehow he decided to try something like Amaretto coffee or Irish coffee (basically coffee with liqueur or whiskey). Yuck, Sebby didn't appreciate it. The taste of alcohol is terrible and now he feels sleepy and weak. And he can't ride his motorcycle in that condition. It sucks, now he's a mischievous and sleepy drunk.

Jodi is always busy cleaning the house and cooking, so she has almost no time to relax. But if she does get a chance to have a glass of wine with Caroline and Marnie, then she will be more cheerful and a little more chatty, nothing hardcore.

Preferring more green tea and coffee, Caroline, however, also agrees to hang out with friends with the bottle of something strong. Being slightly drunk from a couple of glasses of wine, Caroline will chuckle at her friends' every joke, and may even decide to order a stronger drink. True, all the energy leaves quickly and she immediately becomes drowsy drunk.

Cheerful and energetic, Abigail is ready to conquer mountains after a few strong cocktails. A drunk girl teeters on the edge of "noisy party soul" and "I'm ready to get into any fight for my homies." Luckily, she's not drunk enough to stubbornly go into the mines with a sword in her condition.

Marnie, having drunk about 5 glasses of wine, becomes flirty drunk. And Lewis's slightly angry comments about the fact that she can work on their secret relationship does not bother her at all. It's been a long time since she felt so cheerful and carefree, just like when she was young, ah...

Lewis, meanwhile, teeters somewhere between "paranoid drunk" and "sleazy drunk." At his age, it's not very useful to drink so much alcohol, and now to keep an eye on Marnie, who, as he thinks, will now blather everything about the two of them to everyone. Damn it, you can rest calmly without worries, you old fart.

Let's race, who's faster? Or let's fight on the hands? Alex wants the competition to prove that even though he's a little tipsy, he's still the best. Although the next day he will be ashamed if during the fun he broke some dishes or chair, and apologize to everyone.

Shane canonically is a depressed drunk. He sits in a corner of the Saloon and drinks mostly alone. Please don't touch him, otherwise he will transform from a depressed drunk into an angry drunk. And you definitely don't want to see Shane drunk AND angry.

If the Saloon has karaoke, then Elliott will be always there after drinking mugs of strong ale or wine. Apart from his loud singing, he becomes reckless enough to spontaneously do anything. Gus or the others often help Elliott get home before the failed singer (sorry Elliott, but you write so much better than you sing) hurts himself or others. The poor guy would later lock himself up in his cabin for a couple of days when he found out about his drunken adventures.

After an extra drink, Sam suddenly becomes overly affectionate and touchy-feely. In a state of intoxication, it seems to him that he did not hug someone enough, or that he was not hugged enough. Hug him please, he's like a little puppy.

Linus doesn't drink alcohol, but sometimes in the harvest seasons in the forest he often comes across fermented fruits and berries. Linus almost always processes them carefully before eating so that he doesn't get more intoxicated during dinner, but sometimes he can occasionally eat some raw fermented grapes before bed. He perfectly understands which fruits are more fermented or less. But he treats this without fanaticism, because the main goal is to eat, not get drunk.

"What if? No, it's impossible. But what if I use that formula, and... Nah, it still won't work. But what if I... No no no. Or maybe yes? Or maybe..." The constant ebb and flow of ideas for new inventions is a typical behavior for Maru when she has a drink that is quite strong for her. This will continue until she falls asleep. It is good that her brother is nearby and help her.

Ah, for old Willy there's nothing better than a bottle of mead after a hard day of fishing. So to speak, to celebrate a successful catch. He most often drinks alone, even when in the Saloon, but can occasionally tell his fishing stories to Marlon, Gil, or Clint with a few drinks. And no matter how much he drinks, he will remain the same. Honestly, as if in the mug not alcohol, but just water!

Penny will never touch a drink, but there was a case when she accidentally drank Sam's cocktail, confusing it with her glass of juice. She immediately became sloppy drunk, embarrassed by her condition and making haste to get home. Penny doesn't understand how her mother can enjoy such a state.

Oh, the doctor knows that in small doses, wine can even be beneficial to the body. But when, by coincidence, Harvey has to drink more than his body can handle, then this is a complete blackout. He doesn't remember anything and prays that he did not do anything obscene.

Pam is an aggressive drunk. This is even more noticeable when her order for another beer is delayed by more than five minutes. Mostly this is a verbal skirmish, Pam will not show physical aggression (unless it concerns her daughter. For her sake, she will grab anyone by the throat, and she does not need alcohol for this).

Usually Wizard is always strict about alcohol, but there are times when you just want to get drunk. Given that he always drinks alone, he is most often sad drunk, remembering the old days when he and his ex were still together. If anyone (Farmer) wants to console him, then let them mentally prepare for an hour-long story about his ex-wife, youth, and that "the grass used to be greener."

Marlon will also remember the old days with a glass of whiskey along with Gil, but unlike the same Wizard, Marlon's stories are more filled with fun and excitement. Usually he is strict and silent, but when a little drunk, he opens up a little more, with his comrade remembering their adventures when the young guys just embarked on the path of an adventurer. These old people deserve some rest and fun.

Pierre considers a couple of strong cocktails a well-deserved reward after a hard week at work. The alcohol in his blood makes him more talkative, but now his tongue is tangled up so that you no longer understand whether Pierre asked to repeat the order, or somehow insulted you.

The last cocktail was obviously superfluous, but Haley didn't care. She wants to have fun, and why is the music so quiet, and let's all dance, and she already changed her mind don't touch her, and anyway where is her other cocktail? Cheerful, energetic, but at the same time more capricious - this is how it goes.

Kent has been very wary of drinking since he returned to Stardew Valley. After all he's been through, it's very easy to drown at the bottom of the bottle, and he doesn't want to get to that point. He still has his family. So he asks Gus, Marlon or Willy to stop him if he gets depressed drunk after a mug of beer or two.

Ah, the tango began to play in the music machine! Robin will not miss the opportunity to dance with her husband to passionate music. She usually asks her husband, but after a few sips of ale, Robin pulled Demetrius off the table and onto the dance floor with almost one tug.

The same Demetrius, after drinking, was very sleepy, but the whole life flashed before the eyes of the poor scientist, when his dearest wife grabbed his hand and he heard the words "tango". Demetrius loves Robin and will not refuse her a dance, but still, a strong drink affected the scientist's vestibular apparatus, and he dances no better than a rag doll. But it looks funny Maru and Sebastian will definitely film this on camera as compromising evidence for the future.

Clint has a fairly high tolerance for alcohol, so he probably drinks almost every day. Even in the cinema, he manages to smuggle alcohol under the guise of Joja Cola. So you can call him secret drunk: no matter how much he drinks, he does not look drunk. Just like Willy.

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thebibutterflyao3 · 25 days

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Day Twenty-Five - Prompt: Friends @rosekiller-microfic

March Daily Series - 561 words

<<<Previous Part OR Start Here

Evan was a coward. That’s all there was to it. He was sitting in his stall and taking his sweet time cleaning up after his last client to avoid facing Barty. Even though it carved out a hole in his chest every time someone else worked on him, he couldn’t face him this soon. Not when Evan was this close to giving in.

His friends would be horrified, of course, as they had every right to be. He was a weak-willed man. A completely useless best friend and brother.

“I caught you between clients! Perfect!”

He flinched at the sound of her voice, then leapt up to sweep her into a fierce hug. “Pandora! When did you get in?”

“Alright, alright. Calm your tits,” she said, swatting at him. “Lily and I caught the first train this morning so I could show her around.”

“She’s here too?” Evan peered over the cubicle wall and surveyed the waiting room. Within seconds, he spotted her bold red hair, followed by the death grip she had on Barty. A fully panicked Barty. “I thought you were taking her to your flat.”

Pandora grabbed his hand to drag him into the waiting room. “She had to meet you first, now come on.”

Evan felt his chest clench at the sight of Barty backing away from Lily with a pained expression. Pandora clearly hadn’t seen him when she arrived or she would have made a scene, but this feisty girlfriend of hers was handling him calmly and firmly. He needed to distract his sister so Barty could escape.

I may be a coward, but I am not a complete fool.

“Wait, wait. I want to show you something,” he said, tugging her back. “You have to see this dragon tattoo I’m working on. The man’s daughter drew it and we blew it up for his whole back.”

Pandora hesitated, then tilted her head curiously. “How old is she?”

“He didn’t say, but I’d guess she’s somewhere between ten and thirteen based on her work. You have to see this. I think it’s the best design I’ve seen from a novice in ages.”

While he blathered on about the piece and showed her the pictures that he’d just added to the example book, Evan kept one eye on Barty and Lily. It looked as though she was interrogating him. Thankfully, his sister wasn’t tall enough to see over the wall.

“Wow, this is impressive,” Pandora gushed, running her finger over the page protector to reduce the glare. “How long did this take you, Evan?”

“Three days for the outline. He was determined to get it done before her next birthday,” Evan explained. “She’s going to colour it in and then I’ll finish it.”

Pandora grinned as she pushed the book away. “Imagine if our father tattooed one of your anime sketches on his back?”

Evan huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes. The suggestion that their stuffy, too-busy-to-parent father would tattoo anything on his back was ridiculous. An anime character was pure lunacy.

“I think I’d faint dead away.”

“Me too.”

He snuck a look over the partition and was relieved to see Barty dart out of the door. Lily, on the other hand, looked rather pleased with herself. She met his gaze with a dazzling smile and Evan couldn’t wait to meet her.

Next Part>>>

#barty x evan #barty crouch jr x evan rosier #evan x barty #evan rosier #barty crouch junior #barty jr #barty crouch jr #slytherin skittles #marauders era #rosekiller microfic #rosekiller

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 1 year

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Reader’s Cooking is Worse than Lilia’s?! -Octavinelle Edition

Somehow, your cooking is worse than Lilia’s. Was it always like this, or did travelling to TWST change it?

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech

Content: platonic, crack, gender neutral reader

Find the rest of the Series: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Author’s Note; As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

Azul Ashengrotto

He thought that Ace and Deuce were over-exaggerating. There’s no way that your cooking is worse than Lilia’s! So he invites you to the Lounge just to see what those two were blathering about. This is just an easy way to get two extra workers!

… he looks at you in quiet horror. Ace and Deuce were right?! He thought he’d never see the day. No time for that though, he has a contract to complete… and a kitchen to rebuild, oh Sevens.

He tries to teach you how to cook by following some of the Lounge’s recipes. And despite following the instructions your cooking is still terrifying. How is it this bad?!

Jade and Floyd would usually be making fun of him but they ‘had business’ and left when they heard you would be in the kitchen. Damn those eels for abandoning him!

Jade Leech

Oya? Azul is helping you cook? He knows better than to stick around. No, he hasn’t eaten your cooking, but he has seen Ace and Deuce looking worse for wear whenever they had to endure your treats.

He is curious though, why is your cooking like this? Do you do it on purpose? Are you fooling everyone?

Whenever you do give him snacks you’ve made, he convinces Floyd to try them, saying that they are from the Prefect. Judging from Floyd’s reaction they were as bad as Ace and Deuce sobbed and now he has to deal with a sick Floyd. He does smile to himself, thankful that he didn’t eat them.

He may also keep any of the snacks you make him and use them as a bargaining piece against Azul, Floyd, and anyone avoiding the contracts. Everyone thinks it’s poison, but he knows that it’s nothing more than a friend’s love imbued home-cooking.

Floyd Leech

He should have known better than to eat something offered by Jade, but his Shrimpy made it! How could he refuse! Well, due to that he ends up sick and is now terrorizing everyone because of his horrible mood. There’s no way Shrimpy made that crap!

Well, lucky for him you made him some get well soon food! Oh, so Shrimpy did actually make that crap. He’s not apologizing for hitting Jade the other day though.

When he catches wind that you’ll be in the Lounge’s kitchen he tags along with Jade to get out of there. Yes, he loves pestering you, but he doesn’t want to get sick again because of your cooking and he’s not taking any risks.

In the meantime though, he’ll make sure to pay a special visit to his favourite crab and mackerel and question them about Shrimpy’s cooking!

#twst #twst x reader #twst crack #twst x gn reader #twst x gender neutral reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jade leech #jade x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd x reader #octavinelle x reader #twst headcanons #twst shitpost #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader

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fool-who-dreams · 2 years

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shrink

summary:

Tony is tired of hearing her daughter talk about her crush, and Peter talk about his. So he sets them up for confrontation and decides to have a little fun with it...

you stepped inside the most spacious classroom of Midtown High, and the familiar scents of chemicals immediately invaded your smell. The chemistry class was soon filled with people taking their seats at their tables and putting on their candid white lab coats and protective goggles. Your usual desk mates were absent on that day due to the intensive sport training they were undergoing; soon they'd have a really important match and the school couldn't risk loosing (again), so they were excused from classes that day.

It was no big deal, but it was an absolute tragedy for you: who will you blather about your crush to? Who will listen as you make up romantic - most definitely unrealistic - scenarios, and encourage your imagination? How can you go a whole day without hearing their encouraging words on how you should just go up to Peter's desk and say-

"Hi, is this seat taken?" The familiar voice shakes you out of your thoughts. Your eyes widen as the sight of THE Peter Parker.

The boy wasn't popular in the slightest, but you had the chance to admire him in his natural habitat, the chemistry and maths classrooms, (or so you thought) and he was the smartest person in MILES. The rare few times you had the chance - or the excuse - to talk to him, he had been the most caring, generous and kindest person you ever had the chance to meet.

"Of course not." You smiled, making him smile, too. You blushed at the thought of always being the one to make him smile like that. Better yet, at the thought of him making you smile like an absolute fool everyday.

"y/n, right?" Peter asked while fixing his bag next to him and sitting down on the stool.

From there on the chitchat never ended. You both did stay silent: he was rather invested in the experiment, and you were rather invested in watching him focus. Chemistry came pretty naturally to you - just like every other scientifical and technology-related subject - which gave you more time to dream of the moment that had finally come.

You guys discovered that you had so much in common: interests, friendships, hobbies...heroes. You both loved Spiderman, for instance, and you both really looked up to Ironman and Captain America. You both liked Star Wars and Delmar's sandwiches, and you both knew MJ.

After class was over, the two of you agreed to sit next to each other the following time as well: your friends had been telling you to talk to him for ages, they won't mind at all if you actually did and stopped distracting him from their assignments in class. Even though, underneath, you knew they enjoyed it just as much as you did.

The weeks went by and you couldn't help but like him more and more, falling deeper and deeper for the boy. He seemed quite involved, too: every time your hands brushed against each other, or you made him laugh, or even just held eye contact for more than one second, it just made your heartbeat run a marathon. And that wasn't like you at all, but you weren't sure you liked it much. That little voice in your head just kept telling you that it might all just be your imagination going a bit too far; basically just gaslighting yourself.

Six months later you guys had become absolute best friends. You walked back home together after school, worked on projects, had your own inside jokes; you had even met his aunt May!

"Hey y/n?" Peter broke the silence while he was laying on a park bench, his curls on your laps.

"Yeah?"

"Do you- would you ever-" he started stuttering as he usually did when he was going to say something important for him. It always made you giggle, you found it cute.

"C'mon Pete, you can tell me anything, you know that."

"I know" he whispered before sitting back straight up. He took a deep breath before finally saying what he wanted to "Do you- like pillowcases?"

You looked at him, puzzled and surprised by the question. "Do I- like pillowcases?" You let out a laugh, trying to hide the disappointment in what you thought he'd have said. "I guess I do. Do you?"

"Yea. I do, I really do."

"That's- cool, I didn't know that about you" You chuckled, as he let out more of a nervous laugh. "I guess we should get going now". You smiled, gathering your things.

After Peter dropped you off where you "lived", you waited til he was out of sight before getting into the most famous building in the State: your actual home.

"I CANNOT BELIEVE HIM!" You shouted as you angrily climbed the stairs and walked into the kitchen, reaching straight for the fridge and opening it. "I seriously cannot believe that boy!"

"What did he do today sweetheart?" you father asked, not getting his eyes off of the newspaper he was reading.

"He almost asked me out!"

"And the problem with that is..."

"THAT HE ALMOST ASKED ME OUT!"

"Oh, obviously" He mocked you as he folded his newspaper. "Honey, have you ever thought of asking him out yourself?"

"Of course not. I mean, what if he says no?"

"You've never had this problem with any other boy before, and you're having this kind of doubts now that I actually like one of your picks?"

"Yes, because I also actually like this one!"

"Pepper, I don't need the blood test anymore, she's definitely a Stark!"

"I thought we had agreed on that when she fixed the- technology thing you couldn't deal with when she was 5." Your mother shouted from the other room.

"Okay, ouch." Tony replied.

"To be fair, you did deserve that." You chuckled. "Anyways, I'm starting to think it was just all in my head. Maybe that's just how he is with everyone, I'm nothing special. I guess I love for the both of us. I mean, how could I be enough for someone like him? He's the sweetest, kindest, most generous and caring person on this planet. And me? Well, I'm just really smart. And I'm amazing for everyone else, of course, but him? He deserves more than I'll ever be able to give." You concluded looking at the ground as you let your head fall into your arms. You were forced to raise your gaze when you heard a sudden loud noise. Something had fallen and broken, like a plate or a mug.

Looking up you saw the only thing you needed but last thing you wanted to see in that moment.

"You better clean that up kid. Oh and, y/n? Peter's here, by the way. Which is a really good thing because now you can both stop using me as your shrink and actually talk to each other." Tony looked at you with the most amused smirk as he was on his way to leave the room.

Your face had reached the cherry red color of the ceramic bowl that was scattered all around on the floor.

"Are you- did you actually mean all that?" An incredulously open-mouthed Peter asked.

"What are you even doing here?!" You inquired, confused and embarrassed.

"That's not important right now. Did you mean that?"

"Haven't I proven it to you?"

"I- I feel awful about making you doubt how much I love you." He said sincerely, while walking towards you.

"You- love me?"

"More than I thought I could." He leaned in slowly, following your every move until your lips fused into the most beautiful feeling you had ever felt. When the kiss was broken he held you in his arms for a few minutes, you both contemplating how the moment felt as magical as you had imagined it. Peter broke the silence with a sudden realization.

"Wait- you are PEPPER POTTS AND TONY STARK'S DAUGHTER?"

"Yeah..." You laughed nervously.

"Why have you never said anything?"

"I don't really go around advertising it. You know the bad guys and stuff can-" As you were explaining, you accidentally hurt a mug. Luckily, before it could touch the ground it was promptly saved: Peter was holding in his right hand the purple thing.

"you are SPIDERMAN?! MY BOYFRIEND IS SPIDERMAN?"

"Mh, boyfriend." He chuckled before hugging you again. "I like the sound of that."

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thesherrinfordfacility · 10 months

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i'm going into blathering oaf mode which i need to type out because otherwise i will literally sit and stare at a blank wall full monkey cymbals instead of doing work that, ya know, pays the bills

buckle up, i think ur going to want to read this one (and if not obvious by the Read More, spoilers ahead)

right im watching s1 again because it is literally my comfort show and i will have it on in the background whilst im working

and im on Hard Times (ep3) and it's just got to the You Go Too Fast for me Crowley scene which obviously HEARTBREAKING

but it just suddenly occurred to me - when we leave the 1941 scene, it feels like the metaphorical ice has been broken and they've like non-verbally agreed to let go of the Holy Water Tantrum

and on top of that we see aziraphale realise he's in love with crowley, and THEN we see the dinner scene in the s2 trailer like solidifies that theyre all cosy and bashful and intimate and seem to have certainly forgotten the whole argument

BUT THEN we get to the 60s scene. and suddenly there's atmosphere. there's suddenly tension. it's awkward and cold and almost a bit nasty. and there is absolutely no reason for it, if you judge only on the linear events given to us in ep3

(EDIT: i watched it again last night and the only other reason i can think of for az being such an arse is that he found out about the robbery by hearsay and not directly from crowley which ok yeah is plausible absolutely and probably the reason for all of it but sOMETHING in my hind brain is just nagging at me that it's more than that so i stand by the following musing....... you may proceed)

what the fuCK happens in that dinner scene??? what in the last circle of hELL prompts az to come up with the "you go too fast for me Crowley" line????

because im telling ya, im betting my last vestige of sanity, that it is NOT the holy water thing

im fairly certain that there's going to be a discussion of the holy water thing in the dinner scene, i think that's a given - when you take into account that az's gut reaction to Crowley asking for holy water was to refuse him because ✨IT WOULD KILL CROWLEY✨, i think that is going to be discussed in that dinner scene

but

BUT.

ahem

i full pussy, honestly and truly (but absolutely fine if im proven wrong), will die by this BELIEVE that there's going to be an a love confession of Some Sort from one of them

Let's face it ---- probably from crowley ("why did you save my books?" "...")

in this scene.

going a step beyond that, i even think there might be a move made from crowley (not The Kiss, mainly because the costume/hair doesn't match but also doesn't seem like the right one) but like maybe he leans in or crowds into az a little too close in this dinner scene and it's going to absolutely scare the beejesus out of az

HE. 💔 GOES. 💔 TOO. 💔 FAST. 💔

like az has literally just realised he feels something that, let's be real, he SHOULD NOT feel bc a) he's an angel and b) crowley is a demon.

but then crowley alludes to having feelings for az? possibly suggest to him that he has for ThousANDS of years???? and that he saved his books because he knew it was important to az????????

nopenopenope toO FAST BOY

az is an angel. opposite side to crowley. literally challenges everything az believes about being an angel and belonging to heaven. this could mean he falls. nopenopenope. too fast.

this is literally the onLY reason i can think of that would result in what appears to be a lovely cute scene, where az is quite blatantly moon eyeing crowley over a bottle of chateau, but immediately swings 30 years later to being cold and distant and "You Go Too Fast for me Crowley"

i will live and die by this, so help me god

and now....... discuss

#good omens #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #azicrow #like the tone difference between the nazis and the 70s scene always irked me before #and now the s2 trailer has come out it was a veritable light bulb moment #as for the other Kiss i think thats when az finally confesses to crowley #it just has to be im not accepting anything else #good omens speculation

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shostakobitchh · 3 days

Text

Chapter 58 sneak peek!

The girl’s fingernails were digging into the varnish on the desk.

She’d stayed like that all class, not moving, not even her eyes. They stayed glued to some distant, unreachable place Severus surmised wasn’t even in the room. Granger had been sending worried, panicked glances between Miss Evans and Weasley-twerp the entire time, while also somehow frantically copying every goddamn word that came out of Severus’ mouth.

And now, with the rest of the little dunderheads gone, Severus had the girl exactly where he wanted her.

And it seemed as though she knew it.

“Miss Evans.” Severus said.

She did not move. She glared at the tabletop like she was planning on turning it into kindling.

He moved to stand right in front of her. He rapped the space in front of her twice with his knuckle. “Miss. Evans.”

Her black eyes snapped up to meet his. “You made Hermione cry.”

Fuck — of course she would have taken it personally.

Severus let his palms rest against the surface and leaned forward so that he was nose to nose with the girl. She did not flinch or look away, matching his gaze with a defiant glare.

"You will not address me in that manner," he began dangerously. “and Miss Granger was speaking out of turn.”

Her entire face rippled, like a stone skipping across a pond. It actually looked like she was having some kind of spasm, the waves moving all of her emotions to the front before she could school her expression back into cold, hard anger. She’d been doing a nearly admirable job — Severus supposed he had himself to commend for that. Lily would have thrown a chair at his face, by now.

“You made her cry.” Miss Evans said again. No emotion there — flat and void. The brat was Occluding from him again.

Well, two could play that game. He had been meaning for her to put it to use.

“Are you capable of saying anything else, or shall I throw you out?” Severus asked, keeping his voice as smooth as glass. He really should have taken more House points, should have read them all the riot act when all he was trying to do was protect the stupid little fuckwits from their werewolf teacher —

The girl’s dark eyes flashed wildly. Already slipping — it was almost disappointing. “I’d like to see you try.”

How very like her mother she was — so quick to anger — even if he deserved every bit of it, but she truly understood so little. How he wished he could shatter the illusion, but the werewolf had done enough, lying about Potter. He’d dug his own (metaphorical, regrettably) grave.

"Mind your tone, girl.” Severus said softly, letting a dangerous edge slip into his tone. "You may be my daughter, but in my classroom you are still a student. Do not make the mistake of believing yourself above consequences."

“I’ll do that, thanks,” the anger was bleeding into her voice, now, cracking through the syllables. “Thanks so much for the reminder.”

“Clearly you need one,” he snapped.

“I reckon you need something a lot stronger.” she said, without missing a beat.

Miss Evans clearly knew she had overstepped. Her eyes went a bit wider, as though she were shocked that those words had come out of her mouth, but her lips tightened, locking down her choice, making it impossible to take them back.

“I’d like to know what you mean by that, you little cretin.” Severus snarled.

The girl flinched, but her eyes were burning into his. For a moment, it seemed like she was battling something from within, but then she took a deep breath and said: "I mean that you're a right foul git sometimes.”

Severus stared at her — only slightly taken aback — seeing so much of himself in those defiant, dark eyes. The anger — the need to make someone hurt. The difference was that she was doing it because she cared about Granger, but the blasted know-it-all just didn’t know when to fucking shut up. She wrote more than she needed, blathered on more than necessary, desperate for — whether it was attention or some other unfillable void, Severus did not know or care — but it was something that got under his skin. The fact that Granger was his daughter’s dearest friend drove him mad, sometimes, but he did have to admit that the brat was smart. Severus could only imagine the daily idiocy Miss Evans would find herself involved in had she only befriended Weasley-twerp — or those horrid bloody twins.

She’s all alone —

“And you,” Severus sneered. “Are about three seconds from finding out just how foul I can be. You’ve seen nothing, if you think putting Granger in her place was too far.”

“If you’re mad at me for being late, take it out on me, not her!”

“That has nothing to do with this, you ridiculous girl.”

“Then what is it?”

Severus's lip curled in a sneer. "You truly understand nothing. That insufferable know-it-all is a menace in my classroom. She possesses the amount of restraint a Blast-Ended Skrewt has for its own tail."

Miss Evans narrowed her eyes. "So just because she's smart and wants to participate in class, you felt the need to humiliate her in front of everyone?”

“I was trying to illustrate a point. I did not care about the correct answer — she was the only bloody one of you that knew. Lupin is an imbecile.”

“Yeah, you’ve only said it twenty-billion times.” she retorted, her eyes narrowing. “That’s what this is all really about, isn’t it? You can’t stand that Professor Lupin is a good teacher.”

Whatever was left holding the last of Severus’ restraint — the frayed ends of his self-control that had gotten dangerously close to splitting in the Shack earlier that morning — finally broke.

“No, Miss Evans,” Severus said softly. “Do you know what I can’t stand?”

Her face hardened. “Go ahead. I reckon it’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”

Severus glared wildly at her. She glared wildly back. He continued to hover there, something scathing on his lips — the perfect thing to put her in her place — when she finally averted her eyes, and turned, as though she could not bear to hold her head up any longer. The Occlumency had broken.

Miss Evans’ face began to fill with something else, like a bathtub being filled to the brim, as her dark eyes began to shimmer.

Severus felt his stomach plummet to his feet. He immediately straightened, jaw tightening as the girl grappled for her rucksack under her chair.

Goddammit. God fucking dammit, he’d gone too far. The girl had been asking for it, though — but he couldn’t. The thought was mortifying, that he could not summon every ounce of his apathy and make the girl squirm anymore. It had been effortless, once. Now, Severus possessed the will of a wet paper towel.

He moved to block her from standing as she braced herself on the tabletop. His knees knocked against hers and she glared withering up at him.

“Listen to me,” he pinched the bridge of his nose — if she started crying, he was going to light Lupin’s classroom on fire. “You know that public appearances must suggest that I find you reprehensible. Especially in front of my Slytherins.”

She wiped frantically at her face, but her voice was thick. “I could give a damn what your Slytherins think.”

“Watch it,” Severus snapped.

#sam speaks #aim and ignite #sneak peek #don’t make hermione cry #number 1 rule

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angelasscribbles · 11 months

Text

In Your Room Chapter 9: Okay, I Love You

Series: In Your Room

Fandom: TRR

Pairings: Leo x Drake

Rating: MA

Warnings for this chapter: Language

Song Inspiration for the series: In Your Room by The Bangles

Word Count: 2,217

A/N: There will be one more chapter to kind of wrap things up. Don't panic, I know some of you don't want Dreo to end, there may be one-shots and they will likely show up in other fics as well. This is simply the end of this particular story.

My other stuff: Master List.

“What are you blathering about?” Constantine demanded, face red with fury.

“I’m telling you that if you don’t change the rules of succession to allow me to marry another man, then I’m going to abdicate completely!” Leo was dealing with some fury of his own.

“That’s preposterous!” His father bellowed, “You’re on track to marry Kiara Theron, who will make a perfectly acceptable queen! If you don’t fancy her, then choose someone else at the next social season! If you want to…experiment, or whatever, do so outside your marriage. A Cordonian Arrangement is a simple matter to-“

“You’re not listening!” Leo leaned forward and pounded both fists on the desk in front of him, “I am in love with a man! I will not marry anyone else!”

Constantine paused, peering at his son through slitted eyes. The fool boy was serious. The gears in his brain spun as he looked for a solution. There was no way he was ever going to allow such a thing, but he didn’t want his son to do something impulsive like actually abdicate. He needed to buy time. “Who is it?”

“What?” Leo blinked in confusion at his father’s sudden change in demeanor.

“Who are you in love with, son?” His voice had gone eerily calm.

Suddenly wary, Leo’s guard went up, “That doesn’t matter. Whom I marry should be up to me, that’s the point!”

Constantine steepled his fingers and cocked his head to one side as he studied his oldest child. The stupid shortsighted idiot was serious. He was actually ready to chuck it all-the throne, his future-and for what? Perhaps a different tact was in order, “Even if I agree to your terms, the council will never capitulate.”

“Then I’ll abdicate. Liam can be king.” He had never really wanted it anyway.

Constantine considered his words carefully, “I’ll give you my blessing and go to bat with the council for you under two conditions.”

“What are they?” Leo asked suspiciously.

“First, you must talk to your brother. You can’t seriously be considering dropping the crown in his lap without so much as a heads up.”

“That….that’s fair….”

“Take him into town, to the city square, by the library, the museum of history, and the statue of our ancestor. I think you both could use a reminder of what’s at stake.”

“Okay. What else?”

“Then come home and sleep on it. If you still feel this way in the morning, we can have a serious discussion about it, but I refuse to even entertain this notion until you have taken the time to truly reflect and consider all of the factors that are at play here.”

Leo hesitated. He didn’t trust his father, but he could find no trap, no trick, no downside to doing as he asked. It was less than twenty-four hours. Leo already knew that he wouldn’t be changing his mind, but if humoring his father would speed up and simplify the process, that would be easier on everyone. “Okay, you have a deal.”

Constantine stared after his son for a long minute as he considered his next move. Unlike his progeny, he wasn’t an idiot. He paid more attention to the goings-on of his children than they thought he did. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who Leo thought he was in love with.

He lifted his phone and dialed, “Bas. Let me know when Leo has left the premises, then send Drake Walker up to my private office.”

Leo called Liam and asked him to meet him out front, then he called down to the garage and had a car pulled around. He needed to do one last thing before he left.

He knocked on Drake’s door, the familiar butterflies swooping through his stomach as he heard the deep, rumbly voice call out, “Come in!”

“Hey, babe, I just wanted to- oh! Sorry!” He stopped when he saw the phone in Drake’s hand.

Drake covered the mouthpiece and whispered, “It’s my mom.”

“Ah.” Leo knew that he wasn't the only one being pushed toward a particular future. Drake's mom had been pushing him hard lately about moving to Texas to help her run the family ranch.

He had wanted to explain everything to Drake before he met with Liam, but he knew these conversations could drag out and Drake was always in a bad mood after.

He wouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours. It could wait.

“I have a meeting,” he said in a stage whisper, then pointing to his wrist, “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Can we talk then?”

Drake nodded and gave him a thumbs-up as he continued to argue with his mother.

Leo blew a kiss to his boyfriend and backed out of the room with a smile, confident about their future for the first time.

“Sir?” Drake shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he glanced nervously around the king’s office. He had known the man most of his life, but he’d never been summoned to his office before.

“I said I know about your relationship with my son, are you going to deny it?”

“Liam and I-“

“Don’t play dumb with me, boy. It doesn’t suit you.”

Drake let out a nervous scoff, “I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but-“

“I know your fucking Leo. The future king of Cordonia. And it has to stop.”

“Leo’s a grown man, I think he can make his own-“

“Drake,” Constantine adopted a sympathetic tone, “I didn’t call you here to argue with you. I called you here to spare you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Leo cares about you, son, so he would never tell you this himself, because he doesn’t want to hurt you, but he understands his obligations and he’s committed to his role as monarch. He knows that he has to pick a wife and produce heirs for the throne.”

“Sure, but-“

Constantine pulled a stack of papers from his desk drawer and slid them across the top, “He’s already chosen. This is the preliminary marriage contract between Houses Rys and Theron.”

Drake’s eyes dipped down to scan the legal document, dated last week. His heart dropped. He reached for it, but the king pulled it away before he could flip to the end to check for signatures. “Why are you showing me this?”

“Because I care about you too, son. You’ve grown up under my roof. You’re Liam’s best friend. But Leo has a legacy, a future, and responsibilities. He will be the next king. There’s no room for you in that picture. If you stay, you’ll only end up hurt, but you’ll hurt my son first.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Leo does care about you, but that isn’t love. He feels guilty that he has inadvertently misled you. I can see him trying to juggle his duties while trying to spare your feelings for a while until they get in the way of him doing his job. It won’t end well. Not for him, not for you. You’ll be a distraction he doesn’t need and doesn’t want, and he’ll start to resent you for it.”

“He told you all this?” Drake fought back the tears that sprang unbidden to his eyes.

“Yes. Earlier today. He confided in me about the obstacles in his path. I’m sorry, son, I really am, but if you truly care about Leo, you won’t stand in his way.”

That must be what Leo wanted to talk to him about he realized as his worst fear materialized.

He wouldn’t put either of them through that. He’d pack and leave right away, give in to his mother’s demands. It was best for everyone that way.

The conversation with Liam had gone far better than Leo had expected. Liam had been supportive of his decision and thrilled that he wanted to pursue a more permanent relationship with Drake.

Leo went straight to Drake’s room, bursting with the news.

He didn’t find Drake in his room. He found an empty closet and a note on the nightstand.

Cordonia is your future, the ranch is mine. I love you, Leo, and because of that, I can’t stand in your way. You’re going to be a great king, I know it.

Tears fell down his face, dropping onto the paper and smearing the ink. “Goddamn it!” He crumpled the paper and threw it across the room.

Fucking Constantine.

This was his father’s doing, he knew it.

He scrambled across the room to retrieve the note from where he had thrown it, smoothing it out and tracing his fingers across the words I love you.

He slumped against the door frame and cried.

There was a knock on his bedroom door. Drake didn’t bother to turn toward it. He yelled out from under the covers, “Go away, Mom! I told you I don’t want any-“

The door opened anyway, “It’s not your mom.”

“Leo?” Drake spun in the bed and jumped out of it, frantically combing his fingers through his hair as he wondered if he stank. When was the last time he’d taken a shower? He ran his tongue across his teeth hoping his breath was okay. What the fuck was Leo doing in his bedroom in Texas? He was supposed to be on the other side of the ocean, getting ready for the beginning of the social season.

“What are you doing here?” Drake demanded as he darted into his closet for a clean t-shirt.

“I came to see you. Thought that was obvious.”

“Hahaha. You know what I mean. The social season starts next week! You should be-“

“I abdicated.”

“You did what?” Drake yelped.

“I abdicated…I thought you would approve.” He had drawn up his articles of abdication and filed them with the council in an emergency, off-the-books meeting he had called without his father’s knowledge or presence.

Because fuck Constantine.

“Why the fuck would I approve of that, Leo?”

“Because you’ve always hated the nobility, much less the monarchy, and all the bullshit that goes with it!”

“So? We’re not talking about me; we’re talking about you! This is your birthright! Why the fuck would you give that up?”

“Because I don’t want all the shit that comes with it!” Leo was red in the face now. Why wasn’t he getting it? “There are other things I want to do with my life! I’m sick of my dad controlling every little fucking thing that I do!”

“He won’t live forever, Leo, and this is your life we’re talking about! The throne, ruling, Cordonia, these things are your destiny! Remember when you thought I was dropping out of college and throwing my life away? Remember how pissed you got?”

“Yeah, but that was different! This is about something important! If you’d just fucking listen-“

“Something important?” Drake snorted incredulously, “What the fuck could be more important than the crown, Leo? Huh? What?”

“You, you fucking idiot, you! You’re more important!”

Drake stopped in his tracks, “What?”

“You heard me you fucking asshole! I gave up the crown so I could be with you! I mean…if you want that…”

“I don’t understand…”

“Are you slow?”

“No, but-“

“Your note said that you loved me, is that true?”

“Yes, but-“

“No buts. Cordonia isn’t my future, you are! And if Texas is where you need to be then I guess I’ll have to learn to rope a bull or what the fuck ever cowboys do.”

“You want a future with me?” Did Leo Rys just say he’d learn how to rope a bull? For him?

“Yes! Have you heard a word I said?”

“But your dad said that you didn’t love me and that you just didn’t want to hurt my feelings and that I would be standing in your way….oh….he lied to me?”

“I don’t know what he told you, but none of it was true! The day you left, I told him that if he didn’t change the laws of succession to allow me to marry you then I was going to abdicate, and he said-“

“Wait! You want to marry me?”

“Oh…uh…..yeah, I do. I love you, too, Drake and I’m so fucking sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner! Maybe then you wouldn’t have believed my father and left me and-“

Drake jumped onto the bed and off the other side in record time. He took Leo’s face in his hands and brought his lips to his in a crushing kiss. When he pulled away, they were both breathless, “Are you sure, Leo? I never asked you to give up-“

“I know you didn’t, but Cordonia has Liam. All I want is you! Please don’t give me a hard time about this!”

Drake considered him seriously for a moment, “You really want to live here? On the ranch?”

“I don’t care where we live. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy!”

“Goddamn it, Leo!” Drake brushed tears from his eyes, “Who knew you could be so fucking sappy?”

“Are you….are you crying? Is Drake Walker showing feelings?”

“Shut up!” Drake laughed, “And go lock the door. I want to show you exactly how I feel!”

And just like that, the future opened up in front of them again.

#in your room #angelasscribbles #trr au #the royal romance #dreo #Drake x Leo #Leo x Drake #Drake Walker #Leo Rys #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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ubersaur · 1 year

Text

dungeon meshi ch 89 blathering

Y’all. He found a fucking way to eat the demon. Many chapters ago Laios had that whole revelation about the demon being a force of nature and there is no real way to “defeat” something like that. Something that has come up at least three times in this series is digestion stopping reformation. 1) the dragon meat being reclaimed by the dungeon vs the meat that was consumed, 2) Falin’s reincarnation being botched due to her being digested to such a degree, and 3) the phoenix meal. There may be others but that is what I can recall from the top of my head. And then he went and said this last chapter

Human desires. He really went and got the demon to turn him into a nonhuman and now he’s free of the demon’s influence and has possibly trapped the demon in his human body: something defeatable and consumable..

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #dunmesh #u

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sailorsun546 · 2 years

Text

I think they'd be friends :)

#pokemon #pokemon spoilers #smoliv #pokemon sv #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #pokemon sv spoilers #may's art #may blathers about something or other #sunkern

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skylarkking · 3 months

Text

"One In The Same"

A TFA Blitzwing x Mech!reader

Word Count:1.3k

Chapter 9: The Storm

"There's been an increase in Decepticon activity." Prowl reported as he returned to the base. "They may be planning an assault."

"Great." Optimus grumbled while pinching the space between his optics. He then looked up when Ratchet entered the main area with a grim expression. "What's his status, Ratchet?"

"Not good." The medic said. "He woke up somewhat, but the strain of it sent him into a system crash. I tried running diagnostics to see if it's a code thing, but... it's all scrambled. Which isn't surprising since he got quite the shock."

"So he's not waking up anytime soon?" Optimus asked.

"I... I don't know."

"Fan fragging tastic."

Unaware of the bots I had awoken again, but not by my own will.

'Arise Enigma, and hear my command.' I heard Megatron say in my mind as my optics opened and revealed their blood red hue to the ceiling. 'You will go to the location known as Sumdac Tower, I will be waiting for you there. Do not let the Autobots discover your disappearance.'

"As you command." I whispered to myself. I carefully disconnected the monitors that were hooked up to me and slipped out of the base through the air vents before taking to the skies.

I made a direct beeline to Sumdac Tower, where the roof had been caved in by something. Or rather, someone.

"You!" Starscream snapped as he looked up from inside the tower.

"Stand down, Starscream." The dismembered helm of Megatron ordered. "Enigma, land." I obeyed and shifted forms, my pedes making contact with the rubble covered floor. I looked over to Megatron with a distant and lifeless expression on my face. "Sit and await my command.

The others shall arrive soon."

"Understood." I complied and sat on my legs, my servos folding neatly in my lap, and my gaze focused on the horizon.

"Lord Megatron." Starscream said with hesitation. "Not to um... question your judgment, but how do we know he won't turn on us again?"

"You forget Starscream," Megatron growled. "That it was YOUR DOING that allowed him to gain sentience to begin with."

"You know about that?!" Starscream panicked.

"I didn't. Until now." Megatron snarled.

"Well... um... y-you see I uh..."

"I don't want to hear your blathering excuses."

I sensed something approaching, and I stood up in a defensive stance, Megatron shifting his gaze to me.

"Two life signatures detected." I said flatly.

"Autobots?" Starscream asked.

"Negative. Energy signatures match Decepticon frequency." As I said, this lugnut and Blitzwing came flying into view, the pair of them landing not far from myself and Megatron.

Blitzwing's optics met with mine, and a strange expression crossed his face.

"Blitzwing," Megatron said, pulling the triple changers' attention to the warlord's severed helm. "Do you have the key?"

"I have it, my lord." Lugnut said. As the large Decepticon strode over and was babbling something about not being worthy or whatever while Blitzwing was looking at me with the same strange expression as before.

"Y/D? Vhat are you doing here?" Blitzwing asked barely above a whisper. "You aren't safe here."

"Designation not recognized." I said flatly, Blitzwing's expression changing to horror.

That expression would change to surprise as lugnut inserted the key into Megatron's helm and a brilliant glow blasted outward. Metal plating flew off of the walls, slamming and melding together in sprays of sparks and light.

-with the Autobots-

"Dammit!" Optimus cursed when he and the others saw the glow from Sumdac Tower, followed by Megatron breaking through and hovering above it. The autobots skidded to a halt as he Megatron landed in front of them, followed closely by myself.

"Is that... Y/D?" Bumblebee asked as the bots shifted forms and took on defensive stances. "Yo Y/D! What are you doing with the Decepticons?!"

"Designation not recognized." I said flatly.

"What did you do to him?" Optimus growled.

"I merely returned him to what he was designed to be." Megatron said coldly. "A weapon meant to destroy everything and everyone in his path under my command!"

"You brainwashed him?!" Bumblebee snapped. "No one does that to my friend!"

"Bumblebee, wait!" Optimus called to the yellow bot only for him to ignore Optimus completely and charge at Megatron. I stepped in the way and delivered a precise kick to the bots chassis, Bumblebee flying back and bouncing to a slide in front of Bulkhead.

"Autobot attack attept: failed. Assessing current victory success chance at: 78.34%." I said.

"How... how did he do that?" Bumblebee huffed as Bulkhead helped him up. "Y/D was never that accurate with kicks before! It's why he sucked so much at soccer!"

"I don't think Y/D is in there." Prowl said. "At least not consciously."

"What do you mean?"

"His spark is the same, but Megatron has his mind in a prison."

"So what do we do?" Bulkhead asked.

"We need to get his core consciousness to come forward." Prowl said.

"And we do that, how exactly?" Bumblebee asked with a cocked optic ridge.

"We make him unstable." Optimus said as his optics locked on my stability collar. The Autobots understood what the Prime meant and charged at me, my defensive coding activating as I parried and blocked their attacks with ease.

"Enigma, show them what it means to be the perfect weapon." Megatron ordered.

"Command acknowledged." I said as I upped my attacks and went full force against the bots, but something in me told me to show restraint.

I battled the bots with incredible skill and grace, my claws slashing and crashing against the metal plating of the bots in a dangerous but not deadly dance.

"Optimus, he's holding back." Prowl said as he dodged one of my swings and countered it with a strike.

"Sure doesn't feel like it!" Bumblebee yelled, followed by him yelping as I kicked his tanks and sent him to the ground. I towered over the yellow bot, and he looked up at me with wide and fearful optics. The same ones that a sparkling I once knew a long time ago had. The one I refused to kill.

For a brief moment, I felt a flicker of some sort of emotion, but that was quickly pushed away by Bulkhead charging at me with a battle cry. I dodged his wrecking ball as he threw it at me and backflipped behind him, Optimus charging and locking his axe with my claws.

"Y/D, I know you're in there!" Optimus said. "We're you're friends!"

"I'm afraid the bot you call Y/D is no more." Megatron snarled. "Bring them down!"

"Y/D! Listen to me! Megatron is using you!" Optimus yelled at me as I shoved him back so hard he slammed into Prowl, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead. The group of bots fell to the ground in a pile, their frames battered and heavily damaged. The scent of spilled oil and energon reached my senses, the scent oddly... disturbing to me.

"Excellent work, Enigma." Megatron said, pulling my attention from the pile of bots and to the warlord. As I did, the other Decepticons landed not far with expressions of varying concern.

"Well, of course he would be the best." Starscream said. "He is of your design." Megatron glared at Starscream before motioning for me to join the warlord's side, to which I complied.

"Enigma," Megatron said. "What is the protocol for traitors of the Decepticons?"

"Section 34-8.2 states that anyone who dares defy the will of Megatron will be punished by deactivation." I said.

"Enact the protocol on Starscream." I nodded and charged at Starscream, my claws burying themselves into his tanks. Starscream choked as energon, and oil flooded his intake, his optics going wide in pain. I ripped the blades out in a spray of fluids, Starscream's frame dropping to the ground like a pile of spare parts.

"Deactivation, complete." I said. "Awaiting next command."

"Find us a suitable location for us to proceed." Megatron said. "And await my arrival."

"Proceed?" Blitzwing asked. "Proceed with what?"

"Enigma is more than a soldier." Megatron smirked. "When the Allspark joins his frame, he will be my blade of total domination."

"Command integrated." I said. "Setting destination. Will remain on standby until further orders." I then took to the skies and left the Decepticons behind.

-------

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#transformers #transformers animated #tfa #tfa fanfic #tf fanfic #transformers fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #reader insert #male reader

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potionpeddlerpatchy · 5 months

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Hai Patchy!!! Happy Halloween!! Hope I'm not to late but could i get a potion with/for Bakugou if you have one for me or him!!!

I hope you have a wonderful day or night or whenever you see this!!!🧡🖤🧡

Hello Traveler, I can always say that is never too late to receive a special brew or potion from me. You are always welcome to one whenever I am offer them, granted of course you are willing to be patient enough to wait for however long it may take me to create the perfect one for you.

But, your patience will always be rewarded. As of right now I can see something troubles you. That you seem to be close to someone, or wish to be, that just cannot seem to allow themselves the privilege to be vulnerable; despite your attempts to showcase you are. I can see you wish to be closer to them, and allow them this reprieve. Which is very admirable and kind.

To allow that to happen, may I suggest you take my Brew of Blather? It would make even those with lead for a tongue turn into silver. All I ask is that you mixed it within their favourite drink, or even stew, it can be a rather bitter brew to swallow down.

You chewed upon you lip in worry as you continued to mindless stir the hearty stew that you had made; ignoring how it was slowly bubbling up until some flecks of it jumped out and burned your hands. With a quiet exclaim of pain, you pulled your hand away and brought the wounded finger to your mouth, as your free hand turned down the heat.

Normally you weren’t so dazed when completing such a task; on the contrary you loved to make meals for others to enjoy. You were also so alert to ensure that everything came together perfectly. It was just today you had more on your mind than intended. A couple of items that were troubling you that led to your unusual clumsiness.

The main one being the person you were making this dinner for.

Bakugou was a lot of things. He was smart, strong, capable, and had a good caring heart underneath all his bravado – he wouldn’t be in his line of work otherwise. He was also one that wanted to provide, to give his partner and the budding family he wanted to have all they that needed to never have to worry about money, or food, or if they had shelter.

It was that aspect about him, about wanting to get married and have a family, that always surprised all that he told. Especially yourself, not that you thought such a goal was out of realm for even people as brutish as he could be. No, what surprised you was when he told of this domestic dream of his, he wanted you to be apart of it. To be his doting wife, one that would care for his home with the same care he would provide to you to ensure you were fed and safe.

You were blindsided to say the least, as you struggled to even voice a single word about any of the thoughts you were thinking. After all, up until that point you just assumed Bakugou tolerated you. Held a baseline level of respect for you as you mended all the torn and damaged clothing that he, and the others in his troupe, made; but nothing more.

It made you laugh then, as it did now, knowing he thought he made his intentions clear months before his proposal. That the day you helped mended a few shallow wounds upon his arm, to bandage him up enough until he got the proper help he needed was your invitation of courtship. And he stilted compliments as he said thank you after that day, alongside with an intense and lingering stares was his showcase that he had accepted, and thus was doing whatever he could to ensure a proposal.

You thought his bright red face was adorable as, despite your best judgement, you accepted.

Truly you could not have asked for me. Since that day you said you would be his, you were spoiled beyond what was necessary. A beautiful home with all the things you could ever need or want within it. And a doting husband who always showcased his acts of love, not with words, but rather actions. If your eye ever lingered a little too long at something within a shop window, it would appear to you – all wrapped beautifully – upon your kitchen table the next day. Or if you mentioned something was broken, or falling apart, in an offhand manner you would find him working on it on whatever spare moment he had.

But that brought you to your next troubling thought.

Bakugou always did so much for you, and you always felt you could do more for him. To provide him the sense of safety and security he did for you. You could not fight for him, as he could so easily for you, but you knew how horrid his line of work could be. To constantly put your life on the line for another, to constantly be in danger, and to have to sometimes watch as a life slipped from your fingers after you did all you could do, weighed heavy on his soul. And you wished he could allow you to comfort him, to allow you to take on some of that burden for yourself. He never did. Always just walked straight to bed on those days without word; simply just a kiss on your forehead and a small sad smile.

Your heart ached for him. Even as you tired to coax him with gently words to talk about it, to gingerly press your body against his to try and hold him, it just wouldn’t work. Only rarely would he hold you on those days, so tight you felt you couldn’t breath, as he tried to ground himself back – to remind himself of what he still had. It led you down a path only those that are desperate venture into.

You went and visited a peddler. One that made claims could create beautiful potions for any, and all, needs a person might have. You were skeptical when you first walked into her cluttered shop, finding your body tense as your moved about in worry to not brush against anything, your unease began to shrink more and more and you watched her interact with those that seemed to be repeat patrons. To hear them exclaim with joy over what small miracle she provided, to then ask for another was more than enough proof for you to then swallow the anxious lump in your throat and approach her.

“Oh, my poor dear.” She cooed, before you could even utter a word, as her eyes shined with sympathy while she guided you to sit upon a plush chair nearby “Your heart aches so painfully, doesn’t it?”

You allowed yourself to sink into the soft cushion, to enjoy its softness, before you adjusted yourself to sit more upright as you watched her settle down across from you. You tried to think of a response, stopping and starting a few times, before you outright sighed and nodded your head.

“How did you know?” Your quiet voice sang, as your body, tired from pretending, slouched.

“I have been blessed with many talents and gifts, some more manageable than others. One such gift is knowing just what a person desires, what their heart needs.” She began to explain, as she reached her hand out to hold yours, giving it a small squeeze before she continued “I could tell the moment you stepped into my shop, the moment you called out for my aide, that your heart was on the verge of breaking. Not out of rejection, but rather over on behalf of someone else.”

“Can you help me then?” You could feel the corners of your eyes prick with the sting tears, ones that threated to fall out, as you squeezed her hand back.

“Of course I can.”

It was her outright admission that she could that made you trust her. She provided to you a Brew of Blather, an odd-looking liquid that reminded you of the colour of moss. She had instructed you to use it either in some tea, or whatever food you would prepare him that night for dinner.

And here was where you now stood, as you finished kissing the small wound upon your finger where the stew had burned it, as you tried to decide whether or not you should go through with it all. You knew it may help, but at the same time you did not want to trick him into anything. After all, you wanted him to trust you to become vulnerable with you – to do this would set things off to a rocky start at best.

But, as you continued to mull over your dilemma, you had noticed the kitchen door open. Nor did you noticed your hulk of a husband as he shuffled in. It was only after he had wrapped his arms around your waist to cling to you, did you squeak out a gasp if surprise and be brought back to the world around you.

“Thought you heard me…” He mumbled into your hair before he placed a kiss on your crown, you could feel the small smile upon his lips as they lingered there.

“It’s okay,” You breathed out, as you relaxed your tense body to better mold into his “all on me, was lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking about?” His asked, his arms tightened their grip around you as he pulled you more flush against him.

“Nothing really…”

“Oh, is that so?” He questioned as he placed a final kiss to your temple before he tucked his head to rest upon your shoulder. “You normally aren’t so skittish.”

You tired in vain to act unbothered, to seem as you normally were when he got home; but you knew you were doing a horrible job at trying to hide from him your little secret. Especially when his hand wrapped around your wrist to pull it closer – to inspect the small vial of moss-like liquid inside.

“Then what is this?” He asked, though you could not see it, you knew his brow was cocked with curiosity as you closed your eyes tightly, to try and remove yourself from this plane of reality.

“It’s a potion…” You finally whispered out after his question hung like a cloud above you for moments too long.

“A what?”

“A potion.” You replied back, this time with more assertion to ensue he heard you properly “And before you think it, no I am not trying to poison you.”

“Then what is it for, I wonder?” You could hear this slight disbelief in his voice, but his hold upon you remained as gentle as ever – that though his inner thoughts may be screaming danger he knew you wouldn’t harm him.

“I just wanted you to open up” You sighed, as your body slumped down in defeat once more as tears of frustration filled your vision “Just wanted you to confide in me, as a husband should his wife, to allow me to carry some of your burden on the days where it gets to be so heavy.”

You could tell his was silent not out of anger, but merely doing his best to try and form a proper response to your admission; though you knew he was failing as the moment stretched further and further with not another mutter from him. It was not his strong suit, and you knew that.

“I was desperate,” You spoke again, helping him to fill the heavy silence “everything I had tried did not work. So I went and got that, and I thought of using it. But knew I couldn’t.”

“Why?” He finally muttered, his voice soft as he finally let go of your wrist, watching you as you began to twirl the intricate vile between your fingertips.

“Because I knew a dishonest start would not lead to a solid foundation of trust. And above all else, I want you to trust me no matter what.” You ran your thumb over the ridges of the small glass bottle before placing it down upon your counter “To come to me to tell me anything, even if its just to tell me about your day, because you want to, not because you are forced.”

You could hear him swallow the lump within his throat, as his grip on you grew a tighter to the point where you could no longer move. He began to speak but couldn’t find the words. His voice was raw, a sign that he was either going to cry or already was. Clearly he was moved, by what you were not sure. Not sure if it was your utter devotion to not deceive him, or your desperate plea to connect. Whatever it was, you knew you had broken ground, and you would take the victory that small step was showcasing to be.

“It’s alright,” You began to soothe, placing your hands over his own and giving them a gentle squeeze “you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

You felt him nod his head as he acknowledged your words before that nod turned into a shake; his stuttered breath your cheek as he once again attempted to speak “Would…. Would you like to hear about my day then?”

“I would love to”

I always do love when things naturally fall into line without the need of my special brews. It just proves that with patience, the fates above will help guide you to your own solution. Though, I was more than willing to help speed up that unhurried pace.

I will not ask for you to give it back, though you can if you no longer wish to have it in your possession. I have plenty more you can choose to trade it, should you feel adventurous enough to try~

#i hope that this potion was worth the wait my dear #I apologize for being as slow as the bonds of fate when it came to writing this #I can only pray you enjoy it as much as I when creating it #🔮.the peddler's peculiar potion sale #bakugou katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader

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generalofthenorth · 11 months

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Starter for @ariveth

The journey south to Bruma from Solitude was a long one. Long and miserably cold. They may have been back in Cyrodiil, but Tullius had nearly forgotten that the northern city was a little piece of Skyrim, from the weather to the buildings to the people that lived there. It almost felt as if he was still there. Except that Solitude never seemed to get this cold, and it certainly didn't have a constant snowy slush that his horse had to trudge through as they entered the city.

Legionnaire boots splashed in the filthy mixture of snow and mud as he and his little entourage dismounted their horses. Tullius reluctantly handed his mare's reins to a stable hand and pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders as he watched them lead her away, well aware that he would enjoy himself far more caring for her than rubbing shoulders with nobles and other high-ranking Legion officials at the party to welcome all of their arrivals. And to add to his souring mood, it appeared they were some of the last to arrive, which meant little time to himself before a long night of socializing.

He could see others already entering the castle, all in fine clothing and all most likely nobles. Whether they were local or not, Tullius had no idea. Not that he cared all that much when he knew he would be doing his very best to avoid most of them. He briefly scanned the nobles gathering when somewhere in the crowd, someone caught his eye. It wasn't her dark hair or purple skin unique to Dunmer that nearly stopped him in his tracks but the brief flash of her striking and familiar face. It wasn't her. It couldn't be. What in Oblivion would the little thief be doing in Bruma anyways? And what were the chances that it would be at the same time as him?

Tullius did his best to discretely look for the woman he had seen as they followed the group of nobles into the castle, all the while telling himself that he was wrong, that it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. And when he couldn't spot her again, he figured his doubts were correct and reluctantly brushed it off as wishful thinking. Not that he wanted her there. Absolutely not.

He tried to put the unsettling sighting out of his mind as they entered the castle and were quickly greeted, separated from the incoming crowd, and led to their quarters. Tullius, being a General, was fortunate enough to be offered a private room, though it was a little too ornate for his taste. Not that he was really complaining. A little peace and quiet would be nice for once. He put away the few belongings he had brought with him and made himself presentable with the exception of his mud-splattered boots. Those would require more time when he had a moment and, unfortunately, he had a party to get to. So, with even more reluctance than when he had handed off his horse, he finally dragged himself out of the room.

Parties were not Tullius' strong suit. The constant conversations and polite nodding he had to do were exhausting. Gods, he wished he could tell all of them how much he truly despised listening to them and their opinions. As if any of these soft-handed nobles knew anything about war or how to win one. His night became even more miserable when one of his fellow generals appeared out of thin air to drag him into a conversation he desperately did not want to have. The other man was short and portly, without even knowing him, Tullius would have been able to guess his appointment wasn't because of his skill in battle. A fact that did little to brighten his mood, especially when the other general had no qualms telling Tullius how he would be handling things had the emperor chosen him instead. It was then, as the other general blathered on and Tullius did his best to politely ignore the other man's words and find something, anything, more interesting to focus on, that he once again saw her.

This time there was no mistake. This wasn't a brief glimpse like last time. This wasn't his eyes playing tricks on him. No. Standing across the hall, looking far more put together than the last time they had... spoken, was without a doubt the little Dunmer thief. If he hadn't already had the pleasure of meeting her, she would have looked like any other pretty-faced, well-dressed noble enjoying herself among the mixture of dignitaries and higher-ranking Legionnaires. She would have blended in, and no one would have been the wiser about her true intentions. Because there wasn't a chance in Oblivion, she was here for just a party.

Suspicion and distrust overshadowed his current misery, and Tullius found himself keeping a close eye on her. Determined not to lose sight of her again, he seized an opportunity to escape the one-sided conversation and abruptly excused himself from the other generals' presence. He didn't know if she had spotted him at this point, weaving through the party guests with eyes locked onto her, but hopefully not. Because if she wanted to escape, he had no doubts she would find a way in a large room as crowded as this and with as many exits as this one had.

#ariveth #rp - thievery and music #this is... a tad longer than I meant it to be #please don't feel obligated to match this monstrosity

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thescarletwitchsapprentice · 2 years

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Imagine: You, a student at Kamar Taj, catch the attention of an unlikely person for a particular reason. (Yandere!Stephen Strange/Yandere!Doctor Strange x autistic!ADHD!fem!reader)

*Not my GIF

(CW: Heterosexuality, slightly-big but legal age gap, magic violence, the dove isn’t dead. it’s only slightly injured, death threats but from the reader, executive dysfunctioning)

Author’s Note: This idea just came to me on a whim. So....I don’t know too much about Doctor Strange or Christine, but I saw MoM....six times. I decided I wanna expand my horizons maybe a little.

Reader is 18+. Also Strange is autistic because fuck Benefit Cucumber for what he said about us autistic people.

You feel like you’re falling behind.

Even with all of your practice, you’re behind a lot of the other students because it’s not being taught in a way you understand. Even with Wong’s extra tutoring sessions, it’s still difficult to understand.

So you dive into as many books as possible, even breaking into Wong’s study, trying to understand the science behind it. Before you know it, you’ve made a whole-ass mind map and somehow end up hyperfixating on the multiverse. By the time you look up from your other mind map, it’s past midnight, you’re hungry, thirsty, and have to use the bathroom.

As you attend to your needs, a certain sorcerer happens to pass by what you’re working on, but stops when he sees how extensive your research is.

“This doesn’t look like Wong’s handwriting....” he ponders.

When you come back, you come to a halt and gasp. Strange looks up.

“Oh shit!” you exclaim. “I’m-I’m sorry, I....I know I’m not supposed to be in here, but....I’m just.....I--”

“You’re trying to understand the magic you’re struggling with,” he finishes.

You nod.

“Yeah....how did you--?”

“I’ve seen you struggle during lessons.....I suggest slowing down and focusing.”

“Already tried that, genius,” you scoff. “But ADHD and autism can be bitches sometimes.”

Strange studies your work some more.

“This is.....extensive,” he comments. “Have you been working on these all day?”

You nod.

“I’ve been trying to figure out if there’s some sort of formula or technique or science behind magic and how I can apply it to my studies, but then I got sidetracked when I saw a passage in a book about the multiverse, so I got caught on studying that. Did you know that there’s a theory that dreams are essentially ways to look into the lives of our multiversal selves? If that’s true, then there’s a universe somewhere where I’m the Sorcerer Supreme. However apparently some people aren’t able to dream because there’s only one version of them throughout the entire multiverse, so they have no multiversal selves to look at. One of these books mentioned that this is common in those who have the power to travel across the multiverse, which is very rare. I feel like I’m getting close to something huge, but I’m not sure what it--”

You realize you’ve been blathering on and stop yourself.

“Sorry, I--I tend to get carried away when talking about things I’m passionate about,” you apologize sheepishly.

“No, it’s....it’s fine,” Strange says, seemingly a bit dazed as he looks at you. “Listen, I won’t tell Wong you were in here, on the condition that you come with me to the Sanctum tomorrow.”

“Why would I go with you?” you ask bluntly.

“Because I have more books that you can read that may help your research.”

This catches your attention and you nod.

“Okay, I’m in.”

“Meet me by the entrance tomorrow morning at 7 am,” he tells you.

You nod and head off to bed. As Strange teleports the research to the Sanctum, he can’t help but think back to how passionate you were discussing the multiverse. It almost reminds him of....

“Christine,” he says in a low voice.

Yes....you remind him of Christine. But she’s married now, and in every other universe, it seems him and Christine are destined to fail as a couple. So if he can’t have her......

His mind begins to form a plan.

==========================================

You wake up and head out to the entrance to Kamar-Taj as soon as possible. When you arrive, you see that Strange is waiting there.

“What about the research?” you pant.

“I teleported it to the Sanctum,” he answers before opening an orange portal.

The two of you step inside into the Sanctum. While you take it all in, Strange sets up a few last minute things.

“C’mon,” he says after a few moments. “I’ve got the study all set up for you.”

He takes you upstairs to a study and you’re blown away by the sheer number of books in it.

“Is....is this really all for me to study?” you ask.

He nods.

“Go wild,” he says, indicating to the desk with your research on it and a pile of books to get you started.

Excitedly you rush over and dive right in, losing track of time. What feels like only a few minutes turns into twelve hours. The moonlight shines in the window of the study; that’s when you notice how musty it it.

Going over to the window, you try to open it, but it shocks you with a sort-of orange magic. Yelping, you jump back and begin to worry.

You rush over to the study door and find that it’s open. The hallways are quiet, so you sneak over to the stairs. You try to go down it, but find that you’re thrown back once again by orange magic. Then you attempt to portal out, but realize that your sling ring is missing. Your heart pounds wildly. You rush around the upper floor, desperately seeking a way out, but everything is blocked with orange magic.

“What the hell is going on?!” you whimper.

“Are you finished already?” a familiar voice asks behind you.

Yelping, you whirl around to see Dr. Strange and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank God. Strange, you need to help me. I’m trapped on the upper floor by this weird orange magic--”

Suddenly you stop as the memory of teleporting to the Sanctum resurfaces to the front of your mind.

“Orange magic....” you whisper.

“Is something wrong, (Y/N)?” he asks, stepping forward.

You step back, realizing what’s going on.

“Strange, please....” you pant. “I dunno why you’ve trapped me here, but you have to let me go.”

“Why would I?” His voice sounds sinister, making your blood run cold. “Why would I when you’re so thorough about research that you’ve found answers to questions that sorcerers have been asking for centuries....Christine Palmer?”

“Wha....? That’s....that’s not my name--”

“Are you sure? Because you remind me so very much of her.”

Your heart is racing, and not in the good way.

“Wong won’t let this slide, you know,” you threaten. “He’ll get suspicious when I stop showing up to lessons and then you’ll be exposed.”

“I’ve already taken care of that,” he says casually. “I told him that I’m taking you under my wing for studies at the Sanctum.”

“....I-I’ll...I’ll...” You’re losing footing.

“You’ll what, Christine?” he asks.

Anger seethes through you.

“I’ll kill you!”

You lunge towards him, but suddenly find yourself levitating in the air, making you cry out.

“....I wouldn’t try that if I were you, Christine.”

He keeps you in the air as he walks you away from the stairs while you cry out, begging for him to let you go. He brings you into a grand bedroom and sets you down on the bed before putting a forcefield around you.

“Since you’re so insistent about running away from your future,” he tells you. “I’m going to make sure that you know where you belong in the present, Christine.....with me. Now get some sleep. I need you awake tomorrow for more of your research.”

He shuts your door, and you soon hear the click of a lock and see the doors glowing orange. Your heart sinks as you realize the truth.

Your fate is sealed.....

#yandere doctor strange #yandere doctor strange x autistic reader #doctor stephen strange #doctor strange #yandere marvel #yandere avengers #marvel #avengers

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