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hopelesslyromanticshark · 2 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Normal Teenage Things

contents: leo valdez x daughter of poseidon! reader warnings: bad writing (jk...hopefully🥲), language, allusions to sexual themes but nothing too bad in my personal opinion?? author's note: hihi, soooo i've never done this before but i've got ~180 pages of one shots just collecting dust in my docs, so i figured i'd put them out into the world and see what happens !! feel the need to note, i'm dyslexic and also would rather die than proofread so i can promise you that there will be spelling errors but oh well. i'm actually super excited to see how this goes and i guess this means my requests are open?? Mind you, i'm still a new baby to all of this so be kind, pls and thank you!! anyways, enjoy 😌🫶

there was a loud and constant rapping of fists against the poseidon cabin door. it awoke both of the siblings, who were quick to dive under their covers and hope the person would just go away. there was a pause in the knocking before it started again, more insistent and louder. y/n huffed, shooting out from under her blankets, quickly adjusting leo’s shirt to ensure that it covered all of the parts it was supposed to. it was a shirt that had been a stupid gag gift from percy, which read ‘i heart my hot boyfriend.’ the moment leo pulled it out of the wrapping, y/n knew it would become her new sleep shirt. and leo was more than happy to oblige, only getting it back every few weeks when y/n shoved it into his chest, claiming he needed to make it smell like him again.

“the world better be ending,” percy called to y/n and the person at the front door.

“i second that,” y/n told percy before whipping the door open and glaring at will, who still had his hand raised to knock again.

“what? what could you possibly want?” y/n huffed, holding the door open with a raised brow.

“you’ve got a license, right?” questioned will and y/n’s eye twitched. percy started manically laughing in the background, trying to dig further into his bed

“you better be joking,” y/n managed to get out, staring the sunshine boy down.

“look, travis got shot in his foot by an arrow while training and we’ve got to get deliveries out, the infirmary is in desperate need of more bandaids, a few of the little kids birthdays are coming up-”

“okay, okay, breathe, dude. let me get dressed and a little brekky, then i'll take care of it,” cut in y/n, waving the boy off with a small sigh. there goes her plans of spending the day with leo.

“yes! thank you, y/n, truely,” will cheered, smiling brightly.

“yeah, yeah, sing my praises when i get back,” y/n told him before they waved their goodbyes, the daughter of poseidon marching back into the cabin. she glanced over, noticing percy was asleep again before chucking a pillow at him, causing the boy to shoot up and look around in a sleepy haze.

“if i gotta be up, so do you.” “you suck on, like, a major level.”

y/n quickly changed into a pair of carpenter jeans that leo always complimented, murmuring things about her ass into her ear. she then tugged on a navy blue tank top with a ditsy white floral pattern. she swiped her purse and sunglasses off her bedside table before making her way to the dining pavilion, quickly grabbing a breakfast bar and snapping it in half, tossing one half into the fire with a comforting sizzle. she took a bite out of her half before feeling arms wrap around her waist, the girl squealing with a laugh as she felt familiar curls settle against her neck.

“you’re out of dress code, mi amor. gonna have to punish you for that,” he muttered against her collarbone, y/n huffing out a laugh before pushing him off her, looking over her shoulder with a wide smile.

“i’ve got my reasons! travis got hurt, so i’ve got delivery duty today,” y/n informed him, noting the small pout that settled over his lips. she quickly cupped his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “i’m sorry, lee, i know we were supposed to hang out today.”

“who says we can't?” leo prompted, smirking, as y/n could practically hear the cogs in his brain beginning to turn. she squinted at him before he quickly grabbed hold of her wrist and dragged her off and towards chiron, who looked up at the pair with a raised brow.

“hey, i’ve just come to get the keys for the delivery truck? travis shot his foot earlier so he can’t drive,” y/n stated, glancing at leo out of the corner of her eye, but figured he’s got his part of this operation covered. chiron nodded, passing the keys and a list off to y/n before turning to leo with a suspicious look.

“oh! you’ve got delivery duty, y/n? perfect! the forge is, like, depleted. we are in desperate need of probably three yards of sheet metal- ah, no, make that six. oh, we also need fourth of an inch bolts, not a third of an inch like last time. definitely need more screws, those fancy gold ones, nyssa’s picky,” leo started to list, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes as y/n was desperately trying to follow, knowing what he was playing at, but not necessarily needing to act like she was confused. she was definitely confused.

“you should probably start writing this down,” leo added with a wink, watching y/n’s face fall as she started patting her pockets for a pen she knew she wouldn’t need.

“how- how about you go with her, leo? make sure she gets the correct stuff?” chiron offers, having seen the girl’s panic. leo smiled widely, his plan working just like all his other plans.

“yeah, that’d be best, wouldn’t it?”

“now, no funny business, you two. this is a lot of trust i’m putting in you. if you’re not back by 4 pm, don’t come back at all,” chiron threatened, though they both knew they were empty. leo faked a solute while y/n pulled him away, saying her thanks as she went. she dragged leo all the way to cabin 9, following him into his room as he tugged his camp half-blood shirt off. y/n practically drooled at the sight, a blush quickly settling over her as she tried to avert her eyes and pretend like she hadn't been staring. leo shot a smirk over his shoulder as he picked up another shirt, one of the few normal shirts he had, and tugged it on.

“sorry, babe, shows over,” he told her, watching the blush spread with a smirk.

“whatever. you’d cream your pants if i even thought about lifting my shirt up,” y/n huffed back, shoving his shoulder as she spun around and began making her way out of the cabin.

“correct! you know what your bras do to me.” “don’t talk about my bras.” “you know, i thought they’d be made out of seashells the first time.” “no! leo, baby, why would i-” “i don’t know! daughter of poseidon and all, figured it was, like, in the handbook or something,” leo argued as y/n wheezed a laugh, leaning against him for support. he rolled his eyes at her amusement at him, wrapping his arm around her waist as they made their way to the truck. y/n went to open the driver side door but leo quickly shut it again, looking at her like she was crazy.

“leo, i know you like to open my doors and all-” “if you think you’re driving, you’ve lost your mind,” leo told her, rolling his eyes at her as he swiped the keys from her hand.

“i need to tell will to start harassing one of the many other people who have licenses at this camp,” y/n huffed as she clambered into the passenger seat.

“hmm, maybe, but this is the price you pay for being head camp counselor,” leo mused, giving the girl a cheeky smile. y/n groaned, lulling her head back against her seat as she buckled in.

“ugh, stop reminding me i have responsibilities.” “alright, alright. i’ll make it up to you,” leo started, causing y/n to squint at him in suspicion. “how so?” “iced coffees on travis?” he offered, holding up the son of herme’s credit card. y/n’s eyes instantly gained back the glimmer that he loved so much, making the pickpocketing so worth it.

“all is forgiven, my love!” she cheered, leaning across the middle console and tangling her arms around him with repeated kisses to his face. leo laughed, leaning into the affection without a second thought. y/n pulled back before pressing a kiss to his lips, more solid then the ones before. leo leaned even further, chasing after her lips when she pulled away.

then she reached into the glovebox, producing the one phone that chiron allowed near camp. the hephestus cabin tweaked it the best they could, making it nearly monster proof and demigod safe. it worked well enough for deliveries, gps being needed and all. plus, travis and connor managed to get spotify on it, disguising it as some puzzle app that chiron paid no mind to. y/n had to fork over twenty bucks just to be allowed to use it, as she wasn’t willing to drive around without music and the idiots put a password on it. y/n typed in the password - trav&conrule11 - pulling up her playlist as leo started to drive. she then pulled up the gps, checking to see the first place for deliveries and typing in the address of the small diner a few miles away. they liked the strawberries from camp best, feeling like they were supporting a small business when it was anything but. y/n listed the directions out for leo, knowing he’d just tune the robotic voice of the gps out. his fingers drummed across the wheel, his other hand playing with the rings on y/n’s hand, his thumb twisting the promise ring he’d given to her a few months ago, which caused his lips to twitch upward. eventually, they pulled up to the diner, y/n hopping out and moving towards the restaurant, the owner cheering as she greeted the girl, who she knew very well, leo trailing behind.

“y/n!! it’s good to see you, honey! they keep sending those rambunctious boys, we’ve been missing our girl,” the woman, mrs. ferrara, greeted, pulling the girl closer by her cheeks and kissing both of them. she was a short and stubby italian woman, but she held a kindness in her eyes that made her popular with the camp half-blood kids. she loved all of them, most itching for a chance at delivery duty to see the woman who’s become like a grandmother to a lot of them.

“you love those boys,” y/n mused as she passed her the clipboard, which needed a signature. she threw a glance over her shoulder at leo, smiling brightly at him which he returned tenfold.

“yes, but you’re my favorite,” mrs. ferrara replied with a wink, easily signing her name like usual.

“hey!” leo argued, crossing his arms with a frown. mrs. ferrara laughed as she walked around the counter, patting his cheek as she went past.

“much love to you, dear, but my y/n holds a special place in my heart,” the woman continued propping the door open so leo and y/n could easily bring the boxes of strawberries in. well, leo. because the moment y/n went to grab a box, he smacked her hands away and shot her a glare. she rolled her eyes with a huff, going off to hang out with mrs. ferrara who was more than happy to indulge the girl. they left soon after, though not without more kisses to both of their cheeks and breakfast sandwiches shoved into their hands.

“mmm, perks of delivery duty,” leo all but moaned, munching happily on his sandwich, which y/n plucked from his hands so he could turn the truck. “one of the few,” hummed y/n in response, finishing off hers and throwing the tinfoil into her purse to toss out later. she returned leo’s to his outstretched hand as she crossed out mrs. ferrara’s diner on her list, following down to the next stop.

“ugh, we’ve got to go to that stupid stuck up office,” y/n groaned, leaning her head back against the headrest, her lips set in a deep frown. leo looked at her for far too long before returning his gaze to the road, one of his hands leaving the wheel and smoothing over her jean clad knee. “it’ll be quick and i can talk to mr. stuck-up,” leo replied, earning a snort from y/n, a smile slowly growing on her lips before she shot across the middle console, her lips pressing against his cheek.

“my knight in shining armor,” she murmured again his cheek and a blush rose to his ears. “hm, no. don’t like how i looked in the armor at camp,” he smirked back, feeling y/n’s laugh bubble out of her.

after a few directions from y/n, they pulled up outside a bland looking building, the gray brick walls hiding one of those artsy-fartsy office buildings for some small newspaper. they liked to keep a ‘chill work environment,’ the place being filled with ping-pong tables and snacks, which included strawberries from camp. it would probably be fun, if the manager wasn’t so dreadful. y/n basically hid behind leo the whole time, glancing at her watch like they were in a rush while the guy ranted about immigration or whatever racist thing he had to say in that moment. leo’s eye twitched every now and then, but he kept a tight smile on his lips before swiping back the clipboard and slamming the boxes of strawberries down on some pool table. the two scrambled out of there, repeatedly pressing the button for the lobby in the elevator. they practically ran all the way back to the truck, snorts of laughter falling out of their lips as they jumped in.

they did a few more uneventful deliveries before finally reaching the little drive-thru coffee shop, y/n practically buzzing in her seat. typically, people with adhd tend to avoid coffee since it has the opposite effect on them. y/n, with her adhd being slightly less than standard, was an avid coffee drinker. leo couldn’t handle it, he’d be asleep at the wheel in seconds. he tended to stick to sweet tea or lemonade, occasionally an energy drink. the tea reminded him of sticky texas heat, which always brought a soft smile to his lips. leo easily ordered for the two of them, knowing y/n’s order better than his own. he proudly presented the coffee to the girl, who squealed as she took it into her hands.

“thank you, my sweet boy,” she cheered, her lips wrapping around the straw. leo laughed as he pulled away, waving kindly to the worker as he got back on the road.

“anything for you.” “don’t get sappy on me, valdez. gonna make me fall in love or something.”

their next stop was home depot. leo wasn’t completely lying to chiron when he said the forge was depleted, it was actually getting pretty empty in there. y/n took a long sip from her coffee before leaving it in the car and jumping out, going around the car and taking leo’s outstretched hand, wrapping her arms around his one. leo then pulled her closer to his side, pressing a kiss to her head before walking into the store. he knew his way around, almost like it was ingrained in his mind, and y/n liked to imagine that all children of hephaestus were just born with a map of home depot in their head. leo started grabbing things as he went before looking down at his full arms with a sigh, looking over at y/n. “could you-” “i told you we should have grabbed one at the start!” y/n huffed at him, rolling her eyes with a smile.

“i didn’t think we needed this much stuff,” leo called after her as she went to get the cart, the girl waving him off over her shoulder. he stood there inspecting the screws while he waited. leo frowned as he leaned closer to inspect a type of screw, muttering under his breath. after about twenty minutes, he was starting to get worried about y/n before she finally came back into the aisle with a cart. “lee! i had to walk across the whole store and i got lost, like, twice. you cannot leave me in here or i’m never getting out,” y/n laughed as she walked towards him. leo's eyes seemed to get caught on something, his attention being held elsewhere.

“leo? you good?” y/n asked, her brows furrowing at the lack of his joking response. “huh? yeah, yeah, no, i’m good. i’m…i’m great, yeah,” leo replied, finally pulling his eyes away from where the man had been and turning back to y/n, a smile stretching over his lips as he dumped the contents of his arms into the cart.

“you wanna do something fun?” he asked, looking at her out of the corner of his eye in the way he knew she loved. y/n nodded instantly, leo always brought a fun side out of her that no one else did. he shoved the stuff to one side of the cart, pressing his foot against the wheel to keep the cart still, before turning to y/n and holding one of his hands out. y/n took them, still not completely sure what was going on before leo moved his other hand to her hip and helped her into the cart. giggles instantly left y/n’s lips as she sat down in the cart, her leg’s spilling over the side. leo laughed with her, pressing a kiss to her lips before pulling the cart behind him. y/n proudly took stock and organized the cart, always knowing what they had and what they needed.

“hey, no, come on!” a voice shouted, y/n and leo’s head turning from the leather dye in front of them to the angry worker marching towards them.

“you two!” he called again, pointing at leo and y/n. “us?” leo asked, his brows furrowing as he pointed into his own chest. “yeah, you. come on, twelve and under are allowed in the carts. you’re, like, twenty,” the worker huffed, crossing his arms and tapping his feet. “ouch,” y/n muttered, shooting a glare at the man as leo helped her out, his hands firmly against her waist, “do i really look twenty, lee?” “nah,” leo mused, shooting a look at the man. “thank you. have a good evening folks, but if i catch you doing it again, i’ll ban you,” he stated, pointing at the two before marching off. y/n leaned up to leo, who leaned down to her. “do you think he gets more money if he tells a certain number of people off in a day or does he just take his minimum wage job too seriously?” she whispered and leo laughed. “definitely the latter. a fun person does not walk like that,” replied leo, causing y/n to giggle into his side.

finally, y/n managed to drag leo out of the store, though not before paying an arm and a leg. y/n refused to look at the cost, turning away with every beep of the scanner. leo rolled his eyes at her, seeing as neither of them had to foot the bill, but it rather came out of the camp expenses card. they lugged their copious amounts of metal and whatnots that y/n didn’t see the need for, shoving it into the back of the truck where the strawberries had been. y/n then bounced into her seat, rubbing her hands together in excitement as she looked over at leo, who got into his seat with a strange look to the girl beside him.

“off to target, my fine chariot!” she cheered, pointing off into some direction with a laugh. leo shook his head at her, laughing at the pure stupidity.

“yes, m’lady!” he called back in response, getting more joy out of the giggles than he ever thought possible.

y/n led the charge at target, leo basically being dragged behind the girl, his hand firmly shoved into her back pocket, something about not losing her. she rolled her eyes at him but walked slowly enough for him to keep up with her. she stockpiled chocolates, stuffed animals, and little gifts into leo’s arms. each collection was specified to the child, y/n always determined to go above and beyond for the younger kids. she then grabbed a bag of peanut m&m’s and salt and vinegar chips, winking at leo so he’d know those were her special treat to them. they left the store, leo proudly carrying the bags without even giving y/n a chance to grab them.

the drive back to camp was relatively uneventful, y/n just letting the music play as she started signing cards for the kids, leaving specific and heartfelt messages for them. then she’d pass them around camp, letting others leave notes until the paper was overflowing with love and birthday wishes. leo focused, to the best of his ability, on driving though it was all in vain. he’d glance over at y/n, the girl being perfectly framed by the vibrant pink and orange hues of the sun setting and just get lost in it; the sight of her, the heavy feeling of love in his chest, the way she’d wrinkle her nose at him when she caught him staring. he’d return his eyes to the road, a smile gracing his lips as he knew he must’ve done something right with his life, y/n being with him proof enough.

author's note cont. : ahhh! I'm actually so proud of this anyways- if you hate it, ya'll i need you to lie to me because i cannot handle not being perfect actually. anyways, i will admit this was kinda thrown together but i'm still happy with it. wish all of you who made it this far the best of days!!

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #leo valdez x reader #pjo hoo toa #HoO #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackon and the olympians #leo valdez #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #heroes of olympus x reader

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emo-batboy · 6 months

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Trick or treat!

Hello :D Here's your treat

Battinson and Cars

He is a car guy. He loves his car. It is his baby. He can fill his car with gas, yes. That is a thing he can do on his own in his own garage with his own gas.

But he does not know how to operate a gas pump. (New Jerseyans are crying in solidarity.)

Bruce gets into so many car accidents.

Like yeah, he's Batman. But he's also that kind of driver who is perfectly okay when he's on autopilot, but the MOMENT he remembers he's driving a death machine on wheels next to other people driving death machines on wheels, and if you accidentally cut them off or forget to use your turn signal, they will rear end you?! He gets a little antsy :/

The second he overthinks it, he's making mistake after mistake. What are you gonna do? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But when he's in his tricked-out batmobile engaging in a high-speed chase while narrowly avoiding death at every turn? A vigilante with no regard for the rules of the road other than "Do Not Hit People?" He’s suddenly a professional stunt driver! Fuck it!

That’s one of the reasons no one could possibly believe he’s Batman

"Bruce Wayne Reverses into Bush at Local Wawa, Cries as He Calls the Cops on Himself"

Then four hours later...

"The Batman Performs INCREDIBLE STUNT on Garden State Parkway, Saves Lives and Kitten Stuck in Tree"

You think these are the same person? Please be serious.

Anyway-

He is the only person in the JL who can reliably parallel park.

He's also a fucking speed demon. (This is Jersey. The Norm is going 90 in a 55. And back to the "autopilot" point) if he's lost in thought, he's definitely breaking the law. And overtaking like five cars a minute.

Alfred taught him to drive (and is lowkey the one that gave him driving anxiety. He is a very strict teacher.) Because of this, his first car was manual :) Now, he prefers it because it feels cool and action-y when he changes gears on the highway.

Bruce got into his first car chase when he was 15. (Baby's First Car Chase <3) Don't ask me how. Don't ask why. Just know he does. (I mean, I do have an answer but I'm not giving it to you.) This also means he did it without a license because he was too young to even have a permit at the time.

He has a hatred for literally anyone with Pennsylvania or New York plates. Why? Because they’re slow as fuck and try to turn left at the intersection when there is clearly a jughandle??

(Homework for everyone that doesn't live in NJ: Look up "jughandle" or "jersey left" and tell me your thoughts.)

He was so pissed at the amount of potholes in Gotham that he personally filled them as Batman in the middle of the night. (Wtf are his billions of tax dollars going to?)

Once Bruce was muttering curses at the idiot in front of him with NY plates only to see Clark fucking Kent exit the car. Superman could not understand why Batman kept glaring at him for a week.

I did not spell-check this. Happy Halloween :)

#battinson #bruce wayne #batman #the batman 2022 #batman 2022 #the batman #dc universe #battinson is a shivering little chihuahua in a sweater #who also drives 100 mph to feel alive #gotham #new jersey #yes new jerseyan is a word #have fun guys #happy halloween #dc

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wearesorcerer · 1 year

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This could potentially be big. Screenshots from someone in a Facebook group providing his professionally-affected opinion:

Basically, if any of this is true, you could expect Paizo et al to sue WotC/Hasbro. I would love to see that happen, personally, but it all depends on how likely any of the above actually is to work. Like, if 5.5/6e turns out to be as crappy as 4e was, this will just be WotC shooting itself in the foot again (though probably not enough to kill it). So far, I've only heard good things mechanically and bad things for the playerbase, but they have all been vague suggestions with no concrete details.

A Concrete Example

The Hypertext d20 SRD was constructed under 3.5 as exactly what its name suggests: a self-interlinked reference document for everything in the system. Prior to its existence, the SRD was a collection of (possibly rich) text documents without page numbers or other means of easy reference. The Hypertext SRD included all OGL material from print sources it could find, so includes ~85% of the Player's Handbook, Dungeon Master's Guide, Monster Manual, Expanded Psionics Handbook, Epic Level Handbook, Arcana Unearthed, and some bits from Deities & Demigods. It has other useful tools, like an encounter calculator and spell search. For the longest time, it was the only thing like it. Other sites (DnD Tools, Forgotten Realms Helps) eventually sprang up with more content; DnD Tools has been taken down numerous times for violating the OGL, while Realms Helps has stayed under the radar for some reason.

At some point, the d20srd webmaster updated it to include Pathfinder (seemingly all, but arranged by book like how Paizo's PRD was, which is deeply unhelpful) and some 5e (limited entirely to the core three books). This was long after d20pfsrd launched; that site is modeled off of the 3.5 d20srd site in organization and is amazeballs.

Since this webmaster has published 5e material on this site and since the new OGL possibly interprets that as accepting its terms, if this new OGL were legal, he could be sued to take down his entire site (or at least the perennially helpful portions) because it is no longer valid. (Per the screenshots, this is only half hypothetical: I know WotC did do this when 4e came out to fanpages that had 3.5 and 4e material because they didn't want competition from their own product.) This would leave only unauthorized (DnD Tools) or status unclear (Forgotten Realms Helps) archives. We've already lost reams of 3.5 material because WotC deleted its 3rd ed. archives (they used to publish stuff online regularly).

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pimosworld · 9 months

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The story of us chapter 6

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Summary- Set before you and the boys are officially together and how it all came to be.

CW-18+,MDNI, angst, fluff, comfort, illusions to sex,mentions of ptsd, slow burn, mutual pining, eventual poly relationship. No further warnings as to not spoil the story.

WK-5k

Chapter summary- Will gives you a hand and Santi wrestles with his angsty brain.

Notes- See Masterlist for full story notes. This is definitely Wills chapter but you can’t spell Santiago without a.n.g.s.t.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VI- I can fix that

————————————

You never thought you’d say it was a relief to get back to work, being a trauma nurse meant most days weren’t easy going. Work was definitely easier than navigating the thoughts in your brain about your new relationship, relationships?

You had promised to call them but all of you were so busy you didn’t have a chance to. You managed to send a few texts, Frankie was busy with his first week back and Benny and Will were busy training for Benny's fight out of town this weekend.

You did manage to confess to Frankie about your sex dream, you couldn’t resist and you felt bad for leaving him high and dry the day he took you flying. You were sure It would make its way back to Benny. It was all but confirmed when he texted you later that week.

Benjamin: I guess I’m the man of your dreams 😜

I guess catfish truly has a big mouth

Benjamin:I assure you sweetheart he does

Sounds like you know from personal experience

Benjamin: Sounds like someone is jealous

Maybe you were a little jealous but you didn’t have time to think about that right now.

You hadn’t heard much from Santi since that night other than to call him if Mike tried to bother you. You hadn’t so much as heard a whisper of him. You don’t know what they said to him but you could imagine it was enough to keep him far away from you.

You knew that it got bad but you didn’t realize how bad until you told your coworkers you broke up with Mike and the collective cheers from the break room echoed through the hallways.

“Are you finally gonna make a move on one of those guys attached to your hip?” Your coworker Angela had no idea how ironic her question truly was.

It had only been three days and you somehow managed to accomplish that ten fold. Your body and your heart were telling you to go for it but your brain was still on the fence. Society was so unforgiving to anything different. But when did society ever grant anyone any favors?

****

Golden Girls

How are things at the commune?

The kid 🥊: Never better

🐈🐠:Amazing

Will: We’re good here haven’t heard from you though?

I’m fine So things haven’t come to blows yet?

The kid 🥊: Maybe for Fish

🐈🐠: Shut up Ben

I see Will is the only voice of reason

The kid 🥊: He’s going to patch her holes tomorrow 😜

Will: You’re disgusting

🐈🐠: jajajajajajaja

I had faith in you Will

The kid 🥊: You’re the holy man among us

Will: That asshole put a hole in her wall I’m just going to fix it.

🐈🐠: Don’t explain yourself to this pendejo who can’t return any calls.

Sorry been busy let’s get drinks after you fix her wall we need to celebrate fish getting his license

The kid 🥊: Finally you’re making sense

See you fools on Friday

The kid 🥊: Fools in love

Will:🙄

*****

After a busy but short work week you found yourself nervously cleaning your house in preparation for Will to come over. You spent most of the morning and afternoon trying not to overthink things. He was always handy around your house, helping out wherever he could.

You knew he liked to do these things to keep himself busy, it’s why his house was so meticulously maintained. It was the only way to calm his racing thoughts.

Your Will, the man who always needed to be in control. Some part of you knew he needed that to keep himself from losing grip again.

His life slowly fell apart before Colombia when his fiancé Amanda abruptly left. You always asked what happened and he always told you it wasn’t meant to be. You tried getting to know her but it seemed she never wanted to reciprocate.

Even more questions were stirred when she stormed out of the annual 4th of July barbecue screaming about not being able to compete with her. The guys all exchanged knowing glances when he returned to the backyard looking like he saw a ghost.

You didn’t have time to unpack what that meant when days later Santi came to you all with a proposal that would change all of your lives. Change your lives.

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment as you make your way to the front door to let Will in. He’s standing there in a white v neck and paint stained jeans slung low on his waist. You don’t realize you’re gaping at him until he clears his throat.

“I promise I have a change of clothes.” He awkwardly scrubs the back of his neck revealing the toned curve of his arms.

“Oh…it’s not that, you look great. I mean you like fine…” Okay you were officially losing it as you feel the heat creeping up your neck. You don’t miss the smirk as you step aside to let him in.

He sets down his backpack on your loveseat and brings you into a hug as he kisses the top of your head. You linger in it longer than necessary as you take in his scent, his musky cologne mixed with a hint of sweat. You can feel the way his back flexes under your touch as your hand instinctively slides up between his shoulder blades.

“I missed you.” It slips out before he can second guess himself. You don’t think he’s referring to the 3 days since he’s seen you last. There’s a deeper meaning behind it. It’s the first time you’ve been alone with him in months.

“I missed you too.” You look up at him, willing your eyes to say everything your mouth can’t. He can sense it and reluctantly pulls away. The struggle is piercing through his blue eyes, grappling with the inner workings of his mind that says he can’t lose control again.

As he turns to walk towards your garage knowing full well that whatever he needs is there because he brought it at some point and left it to do various repairs and updates to your home. It was so domestic that it takes your breath away.

It takes you a moment to gain your bearings as you head to the kitchen to get some water to try and quench your thirst. You pour him a glass for good measure assuming he’s having the same predicament as you.

He returns from the garage tool belt on and bucket in hand as he sets everything down by your front door next to the dreaded reminder in the wall that was your awful ex. He picks at the drywall with his fingers as he stares at it like it personally offended him.

You slowly approach with the glass of water and he turns to look at you, he couldn’t school his expression in time for you not to see the regret burned through his pupils. You know he’s found someway to blame himself for not being here or for not noticing the signs. He happily accepts the glass from you as he tries and fails to smile, his lips pulled into a grim line.

“You read my mind sweetheart.” He tips his head back and you can see the way his Adam’s apple bobs with each drink. Suddenly you’re feeling parched again.

“I can in fact read your mind and I need you to stop beating yourself up.”

“Is it that obvious?” He sets the glass down on the side table as he resumes his stare off with the hole.

“Well I know you like the back of my hand and yes…it’s that obvious.” You place your hand on his arm gently, still giving him space but steadily grounding him.

“It’s not your fault, we all were in a bad place.”

He can’t help but think how much it was his fault. If he had told you a long time ago how he felt about you none of this would’ve happened. Amanda was right. She can’t compete with you. If he had told you before going off on that suicide mission to Colombia maybe you would’ve come back different. Here you are still looking out for him despite it all.

“Hey…what’s going on behind those eyes again?” Everything.

“Nothin’ sweetheart…just thinking how lucky I am to have you and how we’ll never get out of here if I don’t get to work.” The pet names they all call you have perpetually driven you to insanity and yet you’d be lost without them.

You plop down in the loveseat with your legs draped over the side facing the back of it, watching him work was better than anything on your tv and it would give you a chance to catch up.

He gets down on one knee to get a closer look at the hole perfectly level with the door handle. If you weren’t watching you would’ve missed the precise square he makes with his knife around it to clean the edges.

You watch as his deft hands make steady work of the sandpaper. So precise and sure of his movements. You wonder what it would feel like to have his hands all over you, his hand behind your neck while the other grasps your waist pulling him into you.

“Honey?” Was he saying something?

“Yes.” His back is to you but you can see him laughing at your expense.

“I asked you how work’s been.”

“Oh it’s been great actually.” He stops what he’s doing to look at you with a quizzical expression on his face.

“Oh the trauma unit has been great?”

“Well, yes and no. It’s been great being able to focus on doing my job again.” You always took pride in your work and lately that’s been slacking. You can’t properly take care of patients and have a tumultuous home life.

“I still think you could use a vacation.” He’s resumed his almost complete work and you aren’t sure if he’s very quick with his hands or perhaps you were daydreaming about them for longer than you thought.

“We all could use a vacation, just don’t let Santi plan this one.” You let that last part slip and instantly regretted it until Wills booming laughter filled the small living room.

“I trust your planning skills honey so just let me know when and where and I’ll be there.” There’s a seriousness to his tone that you don’t miss. You certainly all could use a break.

“I’m pretty much done, we just need to let this dry overnight. The paint in your garage is too old so I’ll pick some up this week and finish it.” He stands from the ground dusting the drywall off his jeans.

“Will I can paint…” He cuts you off as he stands over you on the loveseat with his hands on his hips. The look in his eyes is daring you to challenge him again.

“I don’t do anything halfway.” There it is again, that double meaning that you can’t possibly miss. You know deep down you’re not reading into this the wrong way.

Unlike Ben, the man of many words. Will communicated so well non verbally, he was a man of action. So much can go unspoken between the two of you and yet things still felt normal.

“Why don’t we head to the bar early before those knuckleheads get there.” That sounded perfect and you didn’t want your one on one time to end just yet.

“Why don’t you get cleaned up while I sweep this stuff.” Gesturing to the drywall on the floor, he moves to clean but you hop over the loveseat before he has a chance.

“No way William…bathroom, now.” You shove his backpack into his chest and usher him down the hallway as you both giggle at the absurdity.

You quickly clean the remnants of the last pieces of your ex and breathe a sigh of relief. You can hear the water running as you run down the hall to change out of your leggings and freshen up to meet your boys. A warm feeling you haven’t felt in a while working its way through your chest as you swell with pride taking in your appearance in your floor length mirror .

It’s not what you’re wearing or how your hair is done but the way you’re carrying yourself again. The brightness has returned to your features, your smile reaches your eyes again and you're standing a little taller. You went months avoiding your reflection not fully recognizing the person looking back at you.

Not wanting to waste anymore time you spritz some perfume and head out of your room to find Will in the kitchen rinsing your glasses of water. The sleeves of his gray Henley are rolled up to the elbow and he has on a pair of dark blue jeans. How he managed to make washing glass look sexy is beyond you.

“Ready sweetheart?” He turns to you as he dries his hands on the dish towel and you know he’s asking if you’re ready to leave but your answer means so much more.

“Yes I’m ready.”

****

You slide into your booth as you wait for Will to bring your drinks. He insisted on getting them and at this point you should just get used to doing whatever he says.

He makes his way over with something that doesn’t look like your regular beer, two short glasses with a honey colored liquid inside. He’s got this mischievous look that you’ve only seen reserved for Benny in his eyes and it makes you slightly nervous.

“I hope you don’t mind, I got us something a little stronger before the guys get here.” Liquid courage

“I don’t mind, but can I ask what it is?” He holds the glass out to you while he holds the other up in a toast.

“Whiskey.”

“Whiskey and what?” You sniff the glass immediately regretting that decision.

“Just whiskey babe.” That babe shoots straight to your core and you have to clench your thighs as you adjust in the seat.

You clink the glass and down the liquid before you can second guess yourself. It’s sweeter than you thought it would be and it warms you from within as you feel it travel down and settle deep in your stomach. You notice he didn’t finish his but it’s too late now.

“So…your dates have gone well.” So this is why he got whiskey.

“Oh god you know?” You groan, placing your head in your hands.

“I’m just teasin’ sweetheart.” Will always gave the best advice so you might as well use him while you can.

“Can I ask you something?” You would feel a little shy asking him but whatever was in that glass has you feeling bolder than usual.

“Sure, pretend I’m a therapist.” He puts his arm around you as he relaxes against the booth. Again with the pretending.

“This is weird right? He half chuckles to himself as his thumb rubs mindlessly on your arm.

“Weirder than putting your life on the line for the US government everyday for little to no pay.” Okay he had a point there.

“I just don’t want to be judged.” You pick at the old grooves in the wooden table, anything to distract you from this conversation.

“It seems like you’re judging yourself. I think you deserve a break so why don’t you cut yourself some slack.” If there was a word for relief and frustration that’s what you would be now with all of his perfect answers.

“How do I choose?” He takes a moment not having an answer prepared and you think you’ve finally stumped him.

“What makes you think you have to?” Your heart flutters in your chest at the deeper meaning in his tone. He’s so close to you now as you turn to look into his pale blue eyes, his pupils so blown you can barely make out the color.

“If it feels right just go with it.” The last words ghosted over your lips as he leans in waiting for you to pull back, but you don’t. He places a gentle kiss on your lips, almost experimenting with what you want.

You would have gladly accepted that as the one and only but you don’t have a chance as he deepens it,placing his hand behind your neck to tilt your head up. He’s kissing you like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted, stealing any breath you might have.

You knew he was precise in his everyday life, right down to the kiss that would’ve had your knees buckling if you were not already sitting.

Either this was an invasion of the body snatchers or Will…your Will just kissed you in a public bar.

“William Miller what has got into you.” You’re panting against his lips as you try to catch your breath.

“I’m done running from something that feels right.” Your hand is resting on his chest and you can feel his rapidly beating heart.

He kisses you again somehow already learning what drives you crazy as his other hand grips your exposed thigh under the table. You can taste the honey sweet whiskey as his tongue gently prods your mouth for entry. This is certainly too hot for the public but you could care less.

“This is an inappropriate patient-therapist relationship.”

“I resigned 5 minutes ago.” His soft pillowy lips meet yours again and it’s dizzying the way you feel all consumed by him. He’s a drug you’re having for the first time and you know you won’t be able to quit.

“Oh how convenient for us.” You say in between kisses as you bite his bottom lip gently pulling it between your teeth.

The growl that leaves him is faintly interrupted by the tell tale sound of Benjamin Miller entering the bar. He doesn’t pull away quickly, setting your heart at ease. He places one last kiss to your cheek as a to be continued.

Benny is practically skipping towards the booth with Santi in tow. Will gives your thigh one more squeeze before tipping his chin at his brother.

“You better get up and hug him before he has a meltdown.” He whispers a little too close in your ear sending shivers down your spine.

You slide out of the booth before he all but pulls you out and scoops you up into a hug. Your eyes go wide as Santi chuckles from behind him.

Frankie makes his way in and can’t help but laugh at the sight of you hoisted several feet in the air by the human golden retriever begging to be put down.

You see Frankie approaching and thank your lucky stars since Santi and Will seem to be no help, completely amused with the entire situation. You mouth help me as he taps the younger man’s shoulder.

“Put her down Ben.” He dramatically lets you slide down, knowing full well what it’s doing to you and your shorts. He seems so much taller than you as you're placed gently on the ground. A quick kiss to your forehead before he turns to slide into the booth next to Will.

“What was all that?” Benny gestures to you while you hug Frankie and Santi.

“Relax bro I’m just teasing…you deserve to be happy too.” He’s heard that before

Benny slides out of the booth not wanting to be left out of any interesting conversation for too long. Not wanting to be far from you.

Maybe he should take a page out of his own book and relax a little. Frankie didn’t mind and his brother didn’t seem to mind. He’s trying hard to force back the intrusive thoughts creeping in of what would people think? What would they say?

Honestly who gives a fuck what people think. As many times as the group of you have almost lost your lives it shouldn’t matter what he does going forward.

Santi uses this opportunity to occupy his brother's seat next to Will as he watches Frankie and Benny leave dueling kisses on your cheeks. Your squeals of excitement make him feel something akin to happiness with a tinge of jealousy.

“So you’re fine with all this.” Will still hasn’t looked away from you. The way you’ve always opened your heart to them suddenly filling his chest with pride.

“Ya man…I’m fine with all this.”

“Te has vuelto loco.” Santi chuckles as he crosses his arms.

“I don’t know what you said but it’s probably true and I could care less.” Will eases back into the booth smiling at the three of you telling some secret he wishes he was in on.

You turn and plop your hands on the table “I’m buying the first round and I don’t want to hear any grumbling from any of you.” You point to each of them.

“Yes ma’am.” They all say in unison.

“Wow… I didn’t actually think that would work.” You hold the back of your hands dramatically to Frankie and Bennys foreheads.

“You must be sick to agree that quickly.”

“Ya they’re sick all right.” Santi mutters under his breath as you walk away towards the bar. Narrowly missing the middle finger Frankie shoots him.

****

You can feel their eyes on you as you walk to the bar. It’s a little unnerving but exhilarating knowing how you can captivate them by simply walking away. You might as well sway a little since they obviously want a show.

You lean a little against the bar while you wait, drawing your jean shorts a little higher to show off the swell of your ass. The drink you had with Will giving you a boost of confidence,emboldening you a little more.

“Jesus Christ, how is she gonna do that after dropping that bomb on us?” Ben adjusts a little in his seat to get a better view.

“What bomb?” Santi looks at Ben who has yet to meet his gaze.

Frankie seems just as transfixed on you and he raises an eyebrow at Will who takes the final sip of the whiskey in the glass.

“Oh nothing…she just had a sex dream about me and Fish.”

Will sputters across the table as Frankie pats him on the back trying to contain his laughter. Santi gapes at them eyes wide in utter shock.

“What did she say?” Santi almost whispers as he turns to look at you not so innocently leaning on the bar and now is definitely not the moment to be adjusting himself under the table.

“Sorry,hermano, no details for you.” Frankie winks at Benny as you make your way back with a pitcher of beer and 5 glasses.

****

Several rounds later you made your way to the makeshift dance floor with Frankie and Benny. 20 dollars in the jukebox went quite a long way as you alternated spins and dips between the two men. The three of you blissfully unaware of the conversation being had about you just a few feet away.

“Admit it.” It’s almost as if Will can feel the envy radiating off his body.

“Admit what?” That he loves you.

“You want her…what they we have.” Santi clenches his jaw at the thought.

“Don’t try and shrink me Will, I don’t want any of this, it would never work.”

“Oh is that why you haven’t been on a date in months.” Fuck he hated how observant he was sometimes. It was very useful in the military but very annoying when you’re trying to hide your true feelings for your best friend.

Maybe if he let that part of himself go he could see how badly he wanted this but he knew inevitably he would mess it up just like everything else.

You were too perfect, too good. He almost broke you once and he vowed to never let himself be so weak as to do it again.

“I'm not trying to pressure you, I’m just saying you’ve wasted enough time not telling the person you’ve been in love with for the last ten years how you truly feel.” Santi looks at him as if he’s told some deep dark secret and not stated the most obvious thing a blind man could see it.

“We all do.”

“We all do what?” You slide into the booth next to Will obviously tipsy as you lean into his shoulder reaching to steal the rest of his beer.

“We all love the way you dance when you’re drunk.” He holds his beer just out of reach as you pout up at him.

“What… like she has two left feet.” Benny slides in next to you and pours you another beer much to your approval.

“Unless you plan on spending the night with us I suggest you slow down sweetheart.” Will slides your fresh beer to Santi and you scoff in his direction.

Frankie slides in next to Santi as a smug grin crosses his face.

“Oh…now this is interesting, where will you sleep?” He’s too proud of himself to notice your lack of awareness of the question. He could be very annoying and borderline mean when he was being smug.

“Well I usually sleep in Frankie’s bed.” You start to play with the hem of Benny's shirt completely oblivious to the brewing heated conversation.

Santi looks at Frankie as he scrubs his palm across his face.

“So where’s Benny in this scenario?” Santi crosses his arms leaning back in the booth.

“I’ve shared a bed with Fish, it's not a problem.” Benny is doing his best to ignore him as he continues the innocent game with you, tracing his thumb along your jaw.

“So Will…where do you sleep?” They all look to Santi as you are too distracted by Benny playing with the hair at the nape of your neck.

Frankie leans into him so only he can hear. “I know what you’re doing so I suggest you knock it off before she figures it out.”

“Don’t worry boys, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself.” You look Santi directly in the eye as he averts his gaze to the table, slightly embarrassed at the way he was goading them on.

You were very much aware that he was acting like a petulant child but you weren’t gonna let him rain on your parade. If he wanted to be a dark cloud he could do that on his own.

****

You all finished your drinks and began your goodbyes. Will took Benny home to get some rest for his fight out of town the following evening.

Frankie offered to take you home before dropping off Santi. He had several flights booked for the next day so he didn’t have much to drink that night.

The drive was mostly in silence as you hummed innocently along to some tune on the radio.

There was however a silent war brewing in the front seat amongst the two men that you were completely oblivious too in your happy,hazy state.

Frankie pulls up to your home and hops out to open the truck door for you (always the gentleman).

Before getting out you lean forward towards the front seat behind Santiago. “I hope you sleep well now that you’re not worried about my sleeping arrangements.” You plant a kiss on his cheek and slide out, not noticing the way heat creeps up his neck.

If it was his plan to make an ass of himself tonight, he definitely succeeded.

“Goodnight cariño.” He knows you can’t hear him anymore as you and Frankie make your way up the path to your house, hands interlocked. He still has to say it all the same.

He watches as Frankie leans down to plant a kiss on your lips which you happily accept. Something deep in his chest stirs as he watches his two best friends embrace.

Frankie makes his way back to the truck with a bounce in his step. He missed seeing him this happy, it’s been so long for all of them. The energy in the truck has shifted during the short drive to Santi’s house as Frankie nervously taps his fingers on the steering wheel.

He pulls into the parking lot of his apartment and turns the truck off as they continue to sit in awkward silence.

“Just say it Pope.” Santi finally turns to look at him and open the floodgates but instead he takes in his odd appearance with his standard heating oil cap missing.

“Where’s your hat Fish?” Frankie narrows his eyebrows at him as he pats his head oddly feeling his hair.

“That little brat took my hat.” He’s grinning to himself while muttering curses in Spanish under his breath.

As if you knew what could break the tension between the two of them, Santi finally laughs and Frankie can’t help but join him at the ridiculousness of it all.

“Look Fish, I’m sorry I just wonder how it’s all gonna work. What if someone gets jealous? How is she gonna split her time? What are people gonna say?” Frankie is sarcastically nodding his head at each one of his questions seemingly waiting for him to finish spiraling.

“You done hermaño?” He asked himself all these same questions and still couldn’t come up with a reason to not take a chance.

“I don’t have any answers for you. All I know is we love that girl, we’ve never been jealous of each other, she seems to be splitting her time just fine seeing as we all hang out almost everyday and who gives a fuck what other people think.” It’s the first time he’s really said it out loud but Santi is speechless, maybe for the first time in his life.

“You deserve to be happy.” Suddenly everyone is so concerned with his happiness.

“You may be right… That scares me a little.” Frankie flips him off playfully as Santi opens the passenger door.

“Have fun getting your hat back.”

“I’ll get it in a few days, I don’t trust myself to go back right now.” Santi closes the door and pats the hood as he walks toward his apartment.

Ya I wouldn’t trust myself either.

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sockendrache · 2 years

Text

Guys. What if the Tsaritsa was like “The Harbingers need to be a team at all costs, so I order all of you to some team-building excercises” and forces her Harbinger-children to choose some activities they want (”want”) to do together

....and after much arguing and attempts from Childe to talk them into weekly sparring-matches, they decide on playing DnD together. With the Tsaritsa herself being the DM

(pls dnd-side of tumblr, be nice to me- all of my dnd-knowledge comes from watching dnd youtube and listening to my dnd-playing friends-)

The first few sessions are an absolute nightmare cause all of the Harbingers are still in the mindset of “This is stupid, how does playing this.... childish board-game help us steal the gnoses and overthrow celestia?!” ....but after two months or so, the Tsaritsa is very pleased to see no one cancelling their weekly sessions anymore and showing up with all their character sheets and their own dice

Not because they’re having fun, of course! That would be immature.... no, they’re only doing this for her Majesty and her noble cause....! Uh, anyways....

Just.... imagine. A table full of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers, her Majesty the Cryo-Archon herself, surrounded by character-sheets, minis, dice and junkfood. And the DnD-sessions get INTENSE-

You’ve got:

-Childe, playing a Barbarian/Fighter multiclass (even though they don’t mix well- boy saw two battle-focused classes and wasn’t interested in anything else). Being the theatre-loving dork he is, he’s VERY into the whole roleplaying-aspect. He says “But it’s what my character would do” around 50 times every single session, maybe he even starts showing up in cosplay just to REALLY get into the mindset of a barbarian fighter. ....maybe his background is that of a humble fisherman who’s searching for his lost family, being the family-man he is

-Scaramouche with a Rogue, cause he was vERY drawn to the whole stealth and trickery-thing.... the Tsaritsa was overjoyed, seeing her Sixth choose a class that he felt a connection to and was looking forward to how he’d use stealth and his own intelligence to overcome obstacles... only problem, it’s Scaramouche. So he didn’t put any points into stealth, instead only intimidation and charisma. Y’all know that iconic “YOU DO NOT SEE GROG!!”-tumblr post? Yeah, that’s Scaramouche. Every time he’s asked to do a stealth-check, he just yells out “YOU DO NOT SEE SCARAMOUCHE” or some shit like that.

Tsaritsa: The guards have caught up to you, leaving you with no option to slip away. What do you do?

Scara: I turn into a tree.

Tsaritsa: .....what? You don’t know any shapeshifting.

Scara: Well, can I convince them that I’m just a humble tree?

Tsaritsa, pinching the bridge of her nose: Roll for it

Scara, rolling a Nat20:

Tsaritsa, deep sigh: The guards throw a glimpse in your direction, mumbling amongst themselves how much brighter the room looks with the addition of the new tree.

-Dottore, playing a Cleric, aka the party-healer. Every Harbinger wasn’t impressed at the thought of the batshit insane doctor being their healer. And boy.... Dottore did NOT disappoint: His character doesn’t know a single healing spell or anything of that sort. Instead, they’re a dropout that only knows necromancy. Meaning if anyone in the party gets hurt, no matter how tiny of a injury it is, Dottore’s character will straight-up unalive them and resurrect them. He’s the embodiment of “I didn’t get my medical license revoked for nothing”

-La Signora plays a Scorcerer. She’s pretty much the only player who takes the game serious, even her character’s like the handbook-version of a Scorcerer. ....asides from fireball. Every time she casts fireball, her character just throws a molotov cocktail. If any Harbinger dares to look at her funny, she just shrugs like “You expect me to use fire-magic? After what happened last time? Not gonna happen, sunshine.”

Every puzzle the Tsaritsa throws at them doesn’t involve any locked doors. The reason why? The first and last time she did, she had to sit there and listen to Scaramouche intimidate the door into opening itself.

Dottore probably built himself a pair of dice with ruin guard-parts, or some funky shit like this. they were banned, of course. not because they’re rigged, but because they had a tiny built-in laser that would just go off randomly. When asked why he would create something like this, Dottore just shrugged like “Well, I just thought it’d be nice to keep us alert.”

Pantalone just constantly tries to get rich, and he’s resorted to constantly opening like, the Tavern-version of a fast food chain everywhere they go. He managed to get the party so fuckin rich that the Tsaritsa had to incorporate inflation into her campaign to keep it balanced.

Pierro probably plays a bard or so, and the Tsaritsa was afraid he’d turn into the horny bard she’s read so much about while preparing for this whole project. But he’s Pierro, the Jester, the first Fatuus.... being just a horny bard is way too basic. He’s still constantly seducing everything in order for the party to get their way, but he’s doing it, like... classy. Like when a grandma calls her grandson handsome for doing her gardenwork or something like that.

Tsaritsa: ....My First... did you.... did you just.... tell the Mind Flayer, the vile creature who has trapped you in its lair for the past week, seperating your group with the goal to devour your brains.... that it’s “glowing”?

Pierro: Yes. Their youthful glow and well-groomed tentacles just strike respect and deep admiration into my heart.

Tsaritsa: ....*sigh* The Mind Flayer blushes, twirling its tentacles like a school girl might twirl her hair.

EDIT: The Harbingers have all been revealed now and in addition to this post...

-Pulchinella’s character is a chicken. Just a regular Chicken. It only has one attack that consists of flicking a single pebble with its beak... but the chicken is also the party monk and thus the pebble-flick does the most damage out of all of their characters. I just find the mental image hilarious of this short guy with round glasses and a beard, looking like some kinda elf-npc playing a chicken and watching with a shit-eating grin as said Chicken absolutely destroys mobs that Childe’s character is struggling with. Pulchinella, the fifth harbinger, the Rooster, hard-carrying his party with a ridiculously powerful chicken

-The Tsaritsa was starting to regret allowing Pulchinella to play a Chicken after having spent 20 minutes listening to her sixth and her fifth arguing about whether or not the chicken has to wear pants when the party was invited to a noble party. Pulchinella insisted that while it’s just a chicken, it does have proper manners (unlike a certain fighter/barbarian....) and wears a tiny pair of fitted pants, paid for by Pantalone’s tavern-business. Scaramouche on the other hand argued back that it’s just a fucking chicken, so a tiny lil bowtie around its neck is enough.

-Yes, these are two grown-ass men arguing about whether or not a chicken has to wear pants to attend a fancy party. These are her Harbingers, handpicked for the job, powerful individuals having been gifted godlike authority. Arguing over chickens.

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user-needs-new-hyperfixation · 3 months

Note

For the character ask game, how about Fay D. Fluorite! (Or maybe Qi Rong lol whichever you prefer).

Send Me a Character & I'll Tell You✨️

Fai D Flourite (Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle)

(please excuse my spelling variant, I've been using this too long lmao) (I might do Qi Rong tomorrow but alas I havta go to bed)

My first impression: tragically, I have no idea. It's simply been too long. This man has been living in my head so long that my love of him could get its driving license.

My impression now: I feel like Fai is the foundation of all my blorbos. The horribly traumatized self-hating little guy who pretends to be strong and cheerful for the sake of those around him and has strong Mom energy is basically the template all my other blorbos are variations of.

Favorite thing about that character: he's so good, for all that he thinks he's so bad. He cares so much in spite of himself. He loves his children so fiercely. He's also just hella clever.

Least favorite thing: No notes, 10/10, all of his bad traits are Important to the makeup of what makes him special.

Favorite line/scene: the infamous punch signalling the end of the divorce arc is great and probably my favourite happy bit, and for sadness that part in Acid Tokyo when Kurogane jerks away from him and he slides down the wall and sits there with his hand over his face. Oof. Lovely pain.

Favorite interaction that character has with another: that moment in World Chronicle where Syaoran launches himself at Fai and Fai sort of stumbles back against Kurogane and stays there looking up at him all adoring and beautiful with Kurogane's arm around them both? Life-changing.

A character that I wish that character would interact with more: Yuuko, for the entertainment value

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character: so many characters I've loved. William James Moriarty, Xie Lian, Dani from Bly Manor, even freakin' Dean fookin' Winchester. They've all got a little something that reminds me of him.

A headcanon about that character: Does not only bottom, in spite of the obvious Yaoi Dimorphism 😂😂

A song that reminds of that character: pretty sure I first heard this song in a Kurofai amv a decade+ ago and it's stuck ever since. Also this for some reason.

An unpopular opinion about that character: see headcanon 😂 (actually I've seen a fair number of fics with him topping. I'm not in touch with this fandom enough to know what is and isn't popular.)

Favorite picture: since I'm already talking about it --

#tsubasa reservoir chronicle #fai d flourite #kurofai

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evil-group-that-hates-the-fort · 6 months

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THIS IS THE ACCOUNT OF THE VERY MUCH NOT EVIL ORGANIZATION THAT YOU SHOULD GIVE MONEY TOO.

CEO: Evil Apples.

It's named after him. Also he has been trying to dye his hair brown for the past year and we don't get how it isn't working

Head of finance: Mick Sadist.

He is also a licensed psychologist. We don't get how he ended up behind finances.

Intern: Apples.exe

Useless peice of junk traitor.

A member of our organization we care deeply about. He helps out from time to time. We currently can't find him, so notify us if you see him.

Head of hr: (we don't know how to spell his name so we just call him dark king, or some variation of it)

A reasonable and kind man. He will make sure you get the best customer service, and makes sure no employees do anything drastic.

Morale leads: The twins

They boosted morale. Sadly, one is dead, the other hospitalized. We wish the brother a speedy recovery.

R&D: Nicholai Andrew Blaize

He finally is back from that job overseas, and can now lead us forward, back to being on the forefront of tech!

Head engineer: Nikolai Gears.

He is also back! And still a genius. He builds things people didn't think we could make for another century. Sometimes two if it's robots specifically for some reason.

Art, done by the wonderful @slimylittlemaggot

Mick (minus blood. Minus a LOT of blood):

And the dark lord (without Shadows):

(art for the rest coming eventually I can only beg on my hands and knees so many times before I run out of pity)

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oftlunarialmoon · 3 months

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What is Age Regression? Is It Healthy? (UPDATED AS OF 2/25/19) - Age Regression Series

Originally posted to www.onlyfunthings.org on May 14, 2018

Ciao lovelies! Today’s post is a follow up to THIS post about how there is no expiration date on fun! Today’s post is going to be about how expressing your “childish” side and indulging “childish” wants or hobbies can be super healthy to your mental state! In other words, we’re going to be talking about the unconventional “age regression” coping mechanism. (TRIGGER WARNING- Mentions of sexual abuse, self harm, eating disorders.)

(Please note that in this post we are not discussing the hypnosis level of this coping skill! We are simply talking about tapping into your inner child for the sake of stress relief and coping with traumas. Also DISCLAIMER- I am not a medical professional or a licensed therapist. I am simply recommending this from personal experience, not from a place of expertise.)

Even though this practice is increasing in its popularity, many have misconceptions about what this is or what it’s good for. The most simple and truthful definition is this “Age regression is when somebody reverts to a child-like state of mind, often as a coping mechanism for things like PTSD, depression, anxiety, and other mental health issues.” And this meaning is what we are talking about today.

Unfortunately for the sake of this post, there aren’t a lot of reputable sources for age regression, many of these sources get it wrong, and most places that even mention it mistakenly assume it is a sexual thing, when it is absolutely not. And that is why I wanted to write this article, to create a article that regressors can link back to and use to explain this to others, to end stigmas against regression and to stop the spread of misinformation.

MYTHS ABOUT AGE REGRESSION:

“Age Play and Age Regression are the same”- This is incorrect. Age Play is when someone pretends to be a younger age for a sexual reason. Age Regression is when someone feels like or goes into a younger head space for therapy/coping/stress relief reasons. The two are distinctly different but unfortunately get grouped together by ignorance.

“Age Regression requires you to have a ‘Caregiver’”- This is also incorrect! You don’t need someone to be taking care of you in order to regress, because regression is based off you, your mental state and your coping mechanisms/therapeutic methods.

“You must have had a bad childhood in order to age regress”- Actually, you can have had a perfectly normal childhood and still regress! For one, sometimes the traumas people are coping with happened later in life, so they’re regressing to cope with it now, other times for two, people regress for stress relief not necessarily to relive childhood!

“You can only age regress if you’re mentally ill/Age regression is a mental illness”- Neither of these are true, as you can regress even if you’re neurotypical. Age regression is not a type of mental illness but is instead a coping strategy/therapy method/stress reliever.

EXPERIENCES:

Now, I will share with you some people’s personal experiences with age regression to help them. Every story shared was shared willingly with us and we have kept certain people anonymous. The only thing changed in these stories is grammar/spelling. Everything else is left untouched.

“I regress because I was sexually abused as a child and teen. When I regress, it’s like I get a new childhood where nothing bad happens to me. It’s nice to be able to play with toys and color and relax and have the flashbacks and painful memories stop for once. I have told my therapist about my regression and she said it sounds like a very healthy coping mechanism. I used to cut to cope with my PTSD from the abuse, but now I can just regress and be happy.” – Anonymous

“I started regressing at the end of high school without knowing what I was doing because I just thought I was childish. I noticed that when I was regressed I could finally get myself to eat which I had difficulty with because of my anorexia. The hardest part of it all for me is knowing I can’t explain myself to the ones I care about because they might judge me or not understand it.”- Anonymous

"When I was very young I went through a lot of mental and physical trauma, and this continued into my young adult life. I ended up developing a bunch of different disorders causing me to have intense mood swings, flashbacks, night terrors, and panic attacks. I'm in a constant state of extreme anxiety without a cause. But when I age regress I am able to express my emotions and deal with past traumas. It gave me a much needed outlet in what I saw as a world of darkness. It helped pull me out of my depression, and helps me cope in a positive way. I've been regressing for about 3 years, and I have never improved as much as I have in these past years. My regressed state is the only time I'm not constantly anxious and paranoid. My mood swings happen less often and I'm more positive in general. Age regression has changed my life for the better, and become a part of who I am as a person." - (Please note that our source for this quote has left Tumblr and we have no other accounts to source them to- 1/13/19 update)

What do you think of Age Regression as a coping mechanism? Would you ever try it? Have you? Let us know what you think in the comments!

One last note! Please do be cautious when using this coping skill. I have been informed that it is possible for this coping skill to cause dissociation. Please exercise caution and only do what you feel is comfortable and healthy for you.

If you are an age regressor, we have some more articles for you! Such as:

- Age Regression Journaling

and

-Age Regression Self Care

We also have a YouTube Channel with lots of agere Goodness, like this video:

youtube

Remember to Stay Awesome and Love Yourself!

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sorrowfulrosebud · 2 years

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Rosebud’s HorrorFest:

Day two: who you gonna call? Ghostbusters!

Theme: ghouls

Content: in which the local DILF turns out to be something you would never have anticipated

This one isn’t as intense as the previous day, but AFO is a dick in this bc men can’t convey emotions healthily lmao. Mentions of cat death, people being killed, blood, torture (?).

Whatever being that resides in the sky absolutely fucking hates you, you were certain of it. For the past week, you have found yourself in absolutely abysmal luck: first, the cat that normally comes to greet you on your commute to work was found dead by the locals. The poor thing had had the shit rammed out of it, blood and guts coating the road with a slick sheen. Next, you found out that the cute person who made sure to bring you a fresh cup of coffee everyday was a victim of a massive accident, this time they had slipped on a ladder and snapped their neck cleanly in half. And to make matters worse, the news had been reporting a grave robber. Multiple families had been thrown into further grief as their loved ones’ final resting place was completely desecrated, ones who hadn’t been cremated disappeared completely.

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

The bitter yet familiar smell of coffee filled your nose as you stood idly by the bar, ears pricked for the call of your name. A small TV was placed on a shelf in the corner of the crowded coffee shop, and its contents was the news. A well dressed presenter droned on about a new mass grave robbery, this time in a more local graveyard. Disgust filled your being as a new voice pulled you from your rage.

“Such a shame, isn’t it? Those poor families, I can only imagine the grief they are feeling,” the voice said. It was smooth, suave and well educated. You turned your head to see a middle aged man staring back at you, seemingly waiting for your response. In all honesty, he was quite attractive: smooth skin with a few laughter lines and the start of some forehead wrinkles.

“Huh? Oh yeah, it’s heartbreaking to see. I mean, what kind of sicko goes around digging people’s graves?! That’s a new low, there’s a special place in hell for that bastard,” you ranted, fists clenched into your trousers. You missed the small smirk that befell the handsome stranger’s face.

“My, this seems to sting you deeply, my dear. Perhaps you were one of the deceased’s kin?” He feigned a sympathetic tone and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. For some reason, you couldn’t find it within yourself to shake him off.

With a low murmur, you said “yes, my boyfriend. He was taken away from me by villains in a bank robbery a few years ago. We were bystanders when one of the villains sent debris flying towards us and he pushed me away before it could hit the both of us.”

You looked away as tears threatened to line your lashes. The hand that was perched on your shoulder went to thumb smooth circles on your back as you sniffled and tried to maintain your composure. Again, you had no idea why you felt so trusting of this stranger, to lay your soul bare to someone you had met in a coffee house of all places.

“My deepest condolences my dear, that must be an awful feeling to experience. You know, I am a licensed psychiatrist and it just so happens that I am on my annual leave. I have been bored stiff, so I would be more than willing to allow you to spill the contents of your soul,” he maintained the same small grin as he watched you contemplate and then nod your head.

“There you are, come along (Y/N). Grab your coffee and we can go to my office”.

“(F/D) for (Y/N)?” The barista called for you with your plastic coffee cup in hand.

Whatever spell you were under didn’t allow you to wonder how he knew your name before the barista had even called it.

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

Your relationship with the handsome stranger blossomed deeper than you ever imagined it would. He introduced himself as Shigaraki, and the relationship quickly went from professional to… less than professional.

You definitely weren’t complaining however, maybe he was twice your age, but maybe that was what you needed. Instead of guys that flutter around, fuck then leave or the endless months of “are you awake” texts at 2 in the morning, you had found someone to share blissful mornings filled with cups of sweetened coffee and cuddling in fresh linen. So what if he was a little bit older than you? It made pleasant conversations.

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

“Fucking hell, baby have you seen the news? That grave robbing motherfucker has struck again,” you called over to your boyfriend. It was a peaceful Sunday morning mid fall, the perfect season to lure your boyfriend on romantic evening walks in the park.

You could already imagine it; soft mittened hands intertwined as you swung your arms gently, leaves crunching under your boots as squirrels chittered in the trees above you. It was going to be perfect. The creaking of the stairs behind you informed you of your boyfriend’s arrival, and with a soft and slightly prolonged kiss to the cheek, Shigaraki wrapped his arms around your waist and rocked you with him.

“Oh my, that’s dreadful. I really thought that the thief would be arrested by now,” he murmured, mouth just kissing the shell of your ear. You leaned back into his chest and inhaled deeply. God, you loved his scent. It was like hand soap with a hint of musk. The musk drove you absolutely mad, and yet whenever you asked what the smell was, he just smiled and bopped you on the nose.

“It makes me wonder why they’re doing it, and what they’re doing with the body afterwards? I mean, no one has reported seeing any missing bodies, and they’re all people who chose not to be cremated. It’s all very peculiar,” you pondered, swaying gently with your lover.

“Don’t worry about it anymore my darling, let’s have a peaceful Sunday and then we can go for our nightly walk. I have a new walking place I found online if that’s quite alright with you,” he murmured softly again, kissing the patch of skin above your ear and on your jaw. A soft moan left your lips at his actions as you grinded back into him unintentionally, causing him to swallow a grunt.

So much for a quite Sunday.

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

“Baby, where is this new walking place that you found,” you questioned Shigaraki, hands locked tightly together as you trudged your way through thick piles of leaves. Shigaraki turned to you with a small glint in his eyes and smiled that million dollar smile again.

“It’s just through these woods my love, not much further now,” Shigaraki replied as you met the gate of the pitch black forest. Something was definitely amiss.

“Um, babe? Are you sure this is the right place? It looks a little… I don’t know,” you trembled slightly, rubbing small circles on your lover’s hand to steady yourself. Shigaraki seemed annoyed at your constant pondering.

“Yes, I’m certain. Now please hurry up, I want to get this over with as soon as possible. I’m hungry and tired,” he snapped back at you. You visibly shrunk upon yourself at his tone and nodded timidly.

“Okay, now in we go,” your boyfriend let go of your hand to jiggle the lock on the thick metal gate, grunting slightly when it opened. He never offered you his hand back, instead speed walking into the labyrinth of gargantuan cedars and oaks.

Panting, you stumbled to keep up with him. Large roots kept making you trip over yourself as you struggled to both watch Shigaraki walk further away from you and try not to break your neck.

“HEY, PLEASE, WAIT!” You borderline screamed at your rapidly disappearing boyfriend, tears pricking your eyes and breath picking up. What the hell did he think he was playing at?!

Tears blurred your vision as you latched on to the fading silhouette of your lover, until a particularly massive root comes out of seemingly nowhere and forces you to fall down, smashing the side of your head on a rock. Black washed your vision as your boyfriend slowly walked back towards you as you croaked out his name and held a trembling arm out for him.

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

“(-N)…”

“(Y/N)…”

“(Y/N)!”

A shout of your name pulled you from your slumber, groggy eyes trying to adjust properly to the figure in front of you. A weak moan left your lips due to the throbbing pain in the side of your head, the thin trickle of blood becoming more annoying.

Heavy arms tried to wipe away the aggravation, only to find that both wrists had heavy, thick metal attached and clinked the most atrociously when moved. You were becoming way more aware of the coldness of the stone that you were pressed against and tried thrashing about. More rows upon rows of rocks made their way to your vision as you finally understood where you were.

You were in a graveyard.

“Ahh, there you are sweetheart. I was worried you would never wake up again,” that same suave voice that lured you in was speaking to you once again. Something that felt like a hand rubbed circles on your cheeks. Felt because it didn’t feel human, far too cold and smelly to ever be human.

“W-where am I? What are you doing?! Why are we in a graveyard?!” You shrieked as you thrashed around. Shigaraki chuckled as he watched your pathetic writhes to free yourself.

“Oh, be careful my sweet. I wouldn’t want the taste of metal to taint your sweet flesh,” he tucked his fingers under your chin with a sly grin. Your eyes widened in alarm, screams increasing tenfold.

“What the hell do you mean, ‘taint my flesh’?! What kind of sick joke is this?!” Sweat and tears poured down your face in buckets as you yanked even harder on your chains.

“Please, what do you want from me,” you sobbed noisily. Shigaraki took a step back as the skin on his body greyed and melted, some bone peeping out if you squinted hard enough. The foul odour of rotting meat summoned with the transformation of your lover.

Your jaw dropped slightly before you pulled in on yourself and screamed again. Shigaraki’s lip curled at the noise and with a snap of his finger, vines from the tombstone behind you slithering up before wrapping themselves in your mouth, promptly gagging you.

“That’s much better. At least now I can explain myself before you die,” Shigaraki grinned again.

“You see my darling, I am a ghoul. You know what that means, yes? It means I am an entity that peruses the Earth for corpses to consume in order to maintain my appearance,” he pauses, looking at you thinking hard.

Eating corpses?! What the actual fuck!?

Shigaraki continued, “although I could kill people to devour their corpses, I prefer having them… ready made if you will. That’s why graveyards are perfect for me! I float from town to town, especially where there is a lot of crime, and exhume those who were fortunate enough to be buried whole”.

You struggled to breath as you tried piecing at all together before it suddenly hit you.

Shigaraki leaned forward.

“Yes, little lamb. I’m the grave-snatcher. I am also the ghoul who exhumed your beloved boyfriend’s grave! I could see why you liked him, he had a very refined taste to him,” Shigaraki sighed dreamily. With another more urgent sigh, Shigaraki straightened up and fiddled in his bag before pulling out a knife.

“On the other hand however, I couldn’t wait until you died to taste your flesh. You smelled so sweet when I met you, and your personality is reflective of that. I truly do love you. But that is why it must be i to kill you. That way, we can truly be together!” Shigaraki crouched back to your screaming form, rubbing away the tears on your face and then rubbing the tears from his.

“Now my darling. Hold still.”

#yandere all for one #yandere bnha #yandere afo #yandere MHA #yandere angst #rosebud’s horror fest 2022 #bnha x reader #yandere shigaraki #yandere x reader

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stray-kaz · 10 months

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Back from the Brink : a Rhian Mistral x f!reader oneshot

Summary: Neverland attacks. Rhian and Rafal defend.

Warnings: Completely not book canon. Poetic license on the evil Peter Pan idea.

The ship arrived in the pitch black of night, using the inky shadows as disguise. The stars winked out one by one, sucked into the void in the ship’s wake, and this stunning absence of light stirred you almost awake, rolling to meet cold sheets on the other side. You opened your eyes to nothingness, the dream you had been having fading from memory.

You couldn’t see. You lit your finger glow and whispered a soft spell, and pale silver light spilled from it, just enough to illuminate the room you were in. Darkness crept in around the edges of the light, trying to snuff it out and almost succeeding. But you pushed at it and threw the covers away, dropping your feet to the floor and standing.

You dashed to the doorway and out into the hall, colliding with someone running the other way. Warm hands gripped at your elbows and your wavering light slowly picked out the details of Rhian’s familiar face. His round spectacles were gone, and you guessed he had fled his room without thinking about them.

“Rhian!” you exclaimed. “What is happening? Where’s Rafal?”

He shook his head, lips set in a grim line.

“I don’t know the answer to either of those questions.”

You frowned.

“But don’t you still share the tower?”

Rhian shook his head slowly, dark eyes in shadow.

“I wasn’t with him. I was on my way to -”

His words were cut off by a loud boom, and the resulting impact shook the floor beneath your feet and he caught you against his chest as you stumbled, your finger glow flickering out. You clutched at his shirt, wash softened cotton peeking out over the edge of his trousers; he must have been undressing for bed when the stars went out. Half the buttons were undone and his feet were bare.

“Rhian.”

The word was a rumble, a low burr that shook through you and rang in your head. You peered around him to see a familiar red glow eerily lighting the hall. You released him and stepped back, gently extracting his hands from your arms, where he still held onto you. He blinked, but before he could speak, Rafal arrived by his side, eyeing you closely. You knew that he knew how you felt about his twin, but for whatever reason, he chose to keep it to himself.

Rhian turned his head to look at his brother.

“What is it, Rafal?”

“Pan.”

A pulse ran through you and your finger glow flared bright, blinding silver, reflected in the brothers’ eyes. Rafal stared coldly at you, while Rhian’s gaze was cautious, concerned.

“He’s come for me” you whispered, horrified.

Rafal’s upper lip curled.

“He doesn’t have real magic, does he?” he asked.

“He has Neverland magic. He has fairies” you told him.

He sighed and rubbed at the space between his eyes, a phantom headache pressing behind his skull. Meanwhile, Rhian reached out across the space between you and took your hand, smoothing his thumb over the back of it.

“Remind me why she’s here, Rhian?” Rafal demanded, sounding exasperated and exhausted at the same time.

You bristled, but Rhian’s continued gentle ministrations calmed you as you met Rafal’s reddening gaze head on.

“Because I’m the best magical history teacher you’ve ever had” you said tersely.

“You are also a liability” Rafal snapped back. “The one and only lost girl in the Endless Woods. And Peter Pan wants you back. Or dead. Perhaps we should give him what he wants and he’ll leave us be.”

Rhian immediately stepped in front of you, angling his body as a shield against Rafal and glaring at him through the dark.

“We are not handing her over to Peter Pan. We will fight him, Rafal, and we will win” he declared firmly.

Rafal rolled his ruby eyes and gestured back along the hallway in the direction he’d come from.

“Well then, brother” he said coolly. “Shall we?”

The two schools leaned away from one another, cannon holes smoking in the mortar and glass. Pan’s ship listed drunkenly in the air, the fairy dust running low. It, too, was looking worse for wear, riddled with spells and magic blasts.

The air was filled with the frantic sounds of panting, screaming and spell casting as students and teachers fought or fled.

You and the twins had chased Pan to the area where they sparred together, coming up on a sheer cliff drop. The brothers were spread out to either side of you, power rippling off them in electrical surges. You were exhausted, bitten and scratched by fairies and mocked by Pan. Your magic felt stretched taut, your finger glow quivering with every breath drawn.

Rafal and Pan were probably right, you were just a lost girl looking for a home. You thought you had found one here, but maybe it was all just a dream.

One step and then a second, your feet moved you inexorably towards Pan. You heard two voices shouting your name as the sounds of tiny beating wings filled your ears. Fairies were pulling you, dragging you towards Peter Pan. He was going to take you back to Neverland; he was going to kill you there.

Peter Pan raised a single, beckoning finger, his mocking eyes bright.

“Time to go home, little lost girl!” he laughed.

You were too tired to fight. The fairies were bringing you closer and closer to your ending.

“She is home.”

Rhian’s voice speared through your chest as blue fire blazed from his palms, slammed into Pan, blasted his shadow apart, and knocked him clean off the cliff. The rocks below fed on his screams and broke his bones.

The fairies fled as Rhian approached you, magic stained fingers reaching out to take hold of yours.

“You are home” he said, smiling down at you.

You smiled wearily back, allowing his hand to grasp firmly at yours. Suddenly, his presence and his hand in yours provided the smallest of comforts.

Until he was torn from you and tossed over the edge, fairies shrieking in his wake.

There was an anguished roar from behind you, a flash of red light, and the fairies fell onto the dirt. Initial shock broken, you yelled and scrambled to the cliff’s edge, gripping at pebbles and roots with your fingertips. You heard Rafal drop to his knees beside you and gaze over, afraid to look but needing to see.

Rhian lay still on a ledge seven or eight feet down, his head to one side. He could have almost been asleep.

You shoved yourself to your feet and looked down at Rafal.

“Lower me down” you ordered.

He tilted his head back and stared at you.

“What?”

“My magic’s done for the night. Lower me down there, Rafal. Do it now.”

Rafal stood shakily, muttered strange words into the air and two lithe, writhing red ropes of fire wrapped around your waist, cinched tight and lifted you into the air. He lowered you slowly, even gently for Rafal, until your feet touched the stone and you fell to your knees next to Rhian, running your trembling hands over his face and chest. There was nothing, no fine pulse, no bass beat of his heart.

“Beautiful Rhian” you said softly, reaching up to touch his hair, the fine bones above his closed eyes. “I wish I had told you...”

You stopped, trailing off to silence. What was stopping you now? Rafal could not hear you, and he knew anyway.

You leaned over Rhian again and gently held his face between your palms.

“Rhian, I love you” you murmured. “I have always loved you.”

Then without pause, you bent and lowered your head to press your lips against his, tasting the afterburn of faded magic and the coppery bite of blood. Seconds passed and you sat back on your heels, holding his hands, head down.

You had expected his skin to become cooler, but instead, heat bloomed and a pulse thrummed in each of his wrists. You heard your name and it was spoken too close to be Rafal. You raised your head to see Rhian blinking at you and trying to sit up. You ruined this attempt by hurling yourself into his arms, pressing a flurry of kisses all over his face. When you reached his nose, he managed to pull you away, just far enough to see your eyes.

“True Love’s Kiss” he murmured, then smiled as bright as the sun. “I love you, too.”

Tagging: @elizabeth-karenina

#rhian #rhian mistral #rhian mistral x reader #rhian mistral x female reader #liss writes #the school for good and evil fanfiction

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hiraeth-witch-11 · 1 year

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Bond to Happen Part 6:

Part 6: Meeting Billy Russo

Warnings: fantastical racism, some general anxiety, let me know if i missed something

Word Count: 3500ish

Canon Divergence: At this point, Frank has reached what he believes to be the end of the conspiracy that killed his family. Rawlins has not made any move to kill Frank since the initial shooting. The public never finds out the Punisher’s identity.

After about 3 months of knowing them, Frank decided to go legit as best he could. Of course, at that point, just about everyone involved with the murder of his family was dead (at least as far as he was aware at the time). His identity had never gone public. It was hard to identify a man usually only seen in the dark and covered in blood and bruises. To make doubly sure no one could identify him, he agreed to allow you to put the ‘don’t look at me’ spell over his face. Since you didn’t want to be constantly renewing the spell, you designed it to be triggered by violence. Even cameras would find it hard to focus on him, the picture often blurring. He never truly gave up his night job, but he kept a low profile and went to work for his old Marine buddy’s company, Anvil. That’s how you meet Billy Russo only a few months later. One of your closest friends and the reason you are alive today.

“I really don’t look like I’m supposed to be here, Frank.” You complain for the second time as you wait outside Mr. Russo’s office. Frank didn’t know the exact details of your abilities, but he’d pieced together enough on his own. He knew to trust when you said jump and that if anyone wanted a glimpse into their future, you were the one to ask. He’d seen you do more and knew that you were capable of things outside your licensing, but he never pressured you into telling him. He thought the mandatory licensing and registration laws were unconstitutional. He would never judge you for fibbing on the evaluation for them.

“You’re fine, Blue, half the people here are outta place anywhere else. It’s meant to bring people like us together,” Frank insists. “The other day we had a hyena shifter come through and they half shifted when they sneezed. Fur everywhere and big ol’ ears. Everyone saw and no one gave a shit.”

“But I’m not a soldier. Officially, I’m just a mid level witch with a focus in the Sight. I don’t have a right to be here.”

The laws in the US regulating magic changed for the worse after Sokovia was decimated by ‘witch’ magic based violence. It gave people something to rally behind as politicians fought to crack down legally on witches. You had been close to shutting down your shop anyway, business was poor and you could barely keep up with your rent. You had been Karen’s roommate for the last two months, working at a diner and trying to keep your head above water.

You had been forced to register as a witch. It wasn’t like before where you could practice in your own home and business legally. It wasn’t even like the licenses ‘differential’ magic uses and other supes got. Anyone with ambiguity in their power and abilities was tested. If they were categorized as a witch, they were added to the registry. You labeled your designation as a Seer. They weren’t uncommon (not nearly as accurate or clear as you, though), and it would be the first thing another witch would see if they were ordered to inspect you.

You’d had to go to a testing site and submit to an evaluation which included taking several vials of your blood. Luckily, this was routine for the handlers. They agreed that you were a seer with some other spell and energy manipulation based magic. Non-threatening enough to not look deeper. You’d never been so happy in your life to be weak magically than during that evaluation. Their diagnostic work assumed you were at full strength, that’s why you were allowed to slip through so easily. It didn’t take into account that you’d only truly fed 3 times in your entire life when most feeders did so monthly at the least. That was fine, though. Non-threatening was good if you were to get a job. Not that anyone really wanted to hire a witch. Not in this day and age. So Frank had talked you up to his friend, William Russo, and now you were here to interview for a position at Anvil.

Fuck, you’re so nervous you’re hands are shaking. You smooth them over your white button up shirt. It’s uncomfortable, especially tucked into the black slacks, but it was the most professional attire you had. The only items on you that pointed to you being a witch were your boots, the laces covered in beads carved with protective runs and charms for good luck. It was such small magic that realistically only kept the shoes themselves safe, but these boots had been with you for years and were almost like a security blanket at this point.

“Think about it like this, kid. You’ll be helping protect and save lives, while getting paid for it. And Billy and I can keep an eye on you while you do it. No more running around by yourself,” Frank scolds just a tad. He had told you numerous times that he doesn’t like you ‘fighting crime’ by yourself. You didn’t do it often, though. You had originally tried to go with DareDevil as you got stronger, but found out even though your strength increased, your ability to block out the noise coming off peoples’ auras was getting worse and worse. Rarely, you dealt with something by yourself if the danger was immediate. It was best to just tell Frank or Matt and have them take care of it.

“I’m not doing that anymore. It’s been weeks,” you insist, honestly.

“I believe you, Blue. Last time, you got stabbed in the kidney, though. You coulda died. It’s better you get a desk job and stay safe.”

You agree with him. You are getting more and more easily distracted and it would be best for you to stay out of the direct violence. Less risk of snapping again.

“Fine, fine. But I’m hexing anyone if I get called a slur!” You insist under your breath, somewhat jokingly. You’d gotten some looks walking through the building. Sure you stand out a bit. While you don’t think it’s obvious in these clothes, you’re a queer, female witch and you are a bit worried about how that’s going to be received here.

“If someone calls you a slur, I’ll happily watch you hex them,” an amused male voice says to your right. An absolutely gorgeous man has stopped next to you with a grin. His aura comes at you like the ocean, but not in the painful, smothering way you are used to. Instead, it feels like sitting on a beach, listening to the waves as the water barely touches your legs. He’s taller than you by several inches, he even has an inch or two on Frank, but that might just be the volume to his carefully gelled near black hair. The darkness of his eyes seem so familiar, though you’re almost certain you’d never met him before. It takes you a moment to process and realize who is speaking to you. Billy Russo.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not expecting anyone to be- I mean, I’m not a violent-” You stumble trying to apologize to your potential future boss. “I didn’t mean for anyone to hear that.”

“You're fine. We have a zero tolerance policy for harassment of any kind here, so if anyone does say anything, it will be dealt with.” Mr. Russo says it so seriously that you find yourself nodding. Frank claps a hand on your shoulder in what is meant to be a comforting manner. Instead, you suppress a flinch. He seems to remember your dislike of physical contact and quickly removes his hand.

“Why don’t we chat in my office?” Billy says, opening the door and ushering you in. You look back at Frank.

“Are you not coming?” you ask, unsure of how you feel about being left alone with a man you don’t know.

“Billy already knows what I think of you. You’ll be fine, Blue.” Frank sits back down and pulls out his magazine.

Billy gestures for me to take a seat on one of the couches filling his office. He sits opposite me and leans back, resting his left foot on his right leg.

“Where does the name Blue come from?” He asks with a smile. He looks almost like a shark. A very attractive shark.

“Oh, that’s because of my magic, it’s usually bluish,” you answer with a shrug.

“Frank does love his nicknames.” Billy shook his head with a grin.

“Yup, the more obvious the better.” He chuckles politely.

“Okay, let’s get down to business. I run a personal protection agency that also has a variety of other aspects, many of which can be high risk. I’ve been in the market for a seer to help reduce injuries and prevent any big problems that may arrive in certain jobs. Frank tells me that you are very good at what you do, which is high praise coming from him, and that he trusts you with his life.” Billy looks at you closely, sizing you up.

“Well, that’s nice to hear. And um, yeah, I am good at seeing as long as I am within the parameters I think he explained to you?”

“He did, but I’d like to hear you go over them, make sure we are on the same page.”

“I work best with direct contact to whoever is going to be doing something potentially dangerous. As much information about the situation as possible helps. Any big changes in plans should involve me or at least allow me to double check my sight.”

“When you say direct contact…?”

“Skin to skin contact. Usually touching hands is fine. Depending on how far I have to look and how complex things are, I may need one hand near the brain and another near the neck or heart.”

“Interesting, I’ve never heard of a seer who needs that type of direct contact before.”

I was prepared for this question. “There are records of Seers who work similarly to me, but it is uncommon. I do see without touch, but it’s not nearly as specific. It’s why I’m rated the way I am on my license. The bureau technically considers me as a lower level seer because of it, but I’m also more accurate than most seers so it’s a trade off. “

“From what I’ve heard, your licensing doesn’t do you justice.”

You stiffen slightly before forcing yourself to relax. “The system for evaluating witch ability and even for deciding who counts as a witch is very subjective.”

Billy gives a quick nod, accepting your vague response. “Tell me about the side effects you get. Frank says you get overwhelmed?”

“I um, can see a bit too much if I’m around a lot of people, especially strangers, or if I’m very tired, or if I’m not prepared and someone touches me, I get overwhelmed with my sight and see so much that I can’t actually see anything. It all looks and feels like tv static.”

“I can understand how that would be uncomfortable. We’ll make sure your boundaries are respected and we’ll do our best to keep your symptoms low. If you take the job of course.”

“You want to hire me?”

“Of course, why else would you be here?”

“As a favor to Frank.” you shrugged.

“I would absolutely love to have you working with Anvil. Let’s talk details?”

You nod.

Russo lists the salary, hazard pay, and extensive benefits associated with the position. It would most assuredly be enough for you to live on and put some aside. “Plus housing,” he adds. “Due to the nature of the job and your abilities, I’d prefer for you to be nearby, as long as you are comfortable with it.”

Your eyebrows jump to your hairline. “Plus housing? In New York City? That seems a bit excessive for a seer position. What’s the catch?”

Russo grins at my suspicion. “Nothing nefarious, I assure you. You will work regular hours, but I would also like you to be on call, solely for projects I am directly handling.”

You think about it. “Would you mind if I check the general vibes of the future if I accept the position?” you ask, holding out a hand, palm up towards him. His smile falls just slightly. You understood, most people feared a witch ‘casting spells’ on them. Or treated you as if you were diseased. While other supernatural creatures and magical beings were increasingly incorporated and accepted, those who could access and direct magic were still leagues behind.

“Of course,” he says warmly. Surprising you.

He gently placed his hand in yours. You felt a shock go through you, but it didn’t hurt. Instead it felt invigorating. You looked into you and Russo’s combined future, ever so slightly. Just enough to see if this was a bad idea. All you could see was the new glowing white of a magic thread spreading between you. Vague, but instinct told you to accept it.

“I accept,” you say. Removing your hand quickly. You weren’t used to touch not hurting, let alone feeling… nice?

“Excellent. Can you start Monday? Frank says you're waitressing right now, but if you want more time, we can get you settled into your apartment first?” Billy says as he stands.

“I can start Monday, I’m more than happy to leave waitressing behind.” You grin, flashing your teeth.

“Great, Frankie can show you to your apartment, here are the keys. Hand me your phone, will ya?” Billy hands me a set of keys as you pass him my phone out of confusion.

“Could you unlock it, sweetheart?”

“It’s Blue, but sure.” You didn't want meaningless pet names from him, or anyone. He seemed like the type of guy who called everything on two legs flowery names. You didn’t want him to think you were so easily won over.

Billy quickly types his number into your phone and gives himself a call to save your own on his cell.

“I will see you soon, Blue,” he says with a wink. You try to frown, but it slips into a sort of smile.

Frank gives you a ride to Karen’s to help you pack up the few belongings you have. Karen was ecstatic about the opportunity, even though she laments no longer having a midnight margarita buddy. “Now you have more uninterrupted Frank time,” you whisper, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

Karen shoves you with her shoulder and blushes. The two of them had an intense relationship, though as far as you knew, neither had actually made a move.

“Well maybe you’ll find yourself a strapping young veteran to spend your time with,” she teases back. “There are plenty of good looking men and women at Anvil.”

“I don’t know if that’s really my type, Kare.” You wrap yet another crystal in newspaper and tuck it into a box.

“You know who everyone’s type is?” She nudges in a singsong voice.

“Who-” you realize too quickly who she means. “Don’t say it, don’t you-”

“Billy Ruuussssoooo,” she giggles.

“Jesus, Karen,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“That man should’ve been born an incubus,” Karen states, taping up the box of crystals.

“Thank the gods he wasn’t. Can you imagine how much trouble he’d be if he fed on sex?”

“I most definitely can,” she grins.

“Gross, Kare. I thought you only had eyes for a certain bear of a man currently doing the heavy lifting so we can sit here and gossip?”

“I mean yeah, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate other men.” She shrugs standing and reaching out a hand to help you up. You take it without thinking, casual touch something you were safely able to do with Karen.

“I’m going to miss you,” she says, pulling you in for a hug. “You can come back if you hate it there. And if Russo gives you any trouble, tell me before Frank, I’m scarier.”

“It’s true,” Frank yells from across the room, hoisting a box of grimoires onto his shoulder.

Much of it was leftover stock from your shop or borrowed from the gang. It didn't take long to put everything you owned in his truck and make the painfully slow drive to an apartment walking distance from the Anvil building. The apartment was on the 7th floor and was much bigger than you were used to. For one, it wasn’t a studio like you had lived in before. You actually had a kitchen, your own bedroom, a proper closet and a bathroom with a nice tub. The place alone was worth the job.

Your twin size bed and tiny nightstand were the only things in your bedroom, making it look empty. The living room had the old green couch you had found on the side of the road and 3 flimsy old wood bookshelves filled with crystals, herbs, plants, bones and anything a witch could want. The space actually looked bare, but with a proper job now, you could make it a home. You spent that Friday and Saturday sleeping, organizing, and doing your damndest not to think about Billy Russo’s aura.

Turns out, you live in the apartment just below Russo. Apparently it was the most convenient way to keep you close. You were a bit irritated at not being told previously, but you weren’t going to complain at least anymore than you did initially.

“It slipped my mind, honest,” Russo repeats, stifling a grin while looking down at your crossed arms.

“Do all your employees live in the same building as you?” You ask, annoyed.

“A few do. I wanted Frank to, but the man is too damn stubborn.” He shakes his head fondly.

“Why not a different building nearby? Separate work and home life and all that?”

“Well, I own this one, so there’s that. I have a couple other places, but I spend most of my time here since it’s so close.”

“You own the building.” You say in disbelief.

“Yup, no need to sound so shocked,” he says, brow furrowing slightly.

“This place is huge, with a ton of security and all sorts of fancy shit. I thought you only owned Anvil.”

“I branched out over the last couple years. Diversifying the portfolio is good practice.”

“Rich people shit,” you say, nodding sagely. Russo lets out a sharp laugh of surprise.

“Yeah, ‘rich people shit’.”

It just made it harder for you to ignore the weird way your magic reacted around him. Even now, it was leaning towards him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

Russo and you took a few weeks to get used to each other. He was flirty, outgoing, and overly friendly. You were introverted and skittish around new people. Eventually, the two of you fell into a bit of a rhythm and actually worked well together. You started off doing small readings on simple security jobs. Your magic followed him around like a fucking puppy, which was honestly irritating. Sure, he was a magnetic, charismatic person, but in less than a month You had a fully formed tendril of magic and aura as thick as your thumb bridging you together. That was almost as thick as your connection to Karen who you’d known for over a year and lived with for months. It was ridiculous. He would walk into a room and your entire aura would lean towards him. But you ignored it and did your damndest to keep your walls up around him.

Your work days were easy. The occasional reading and then the documentation that it required. Plus any post op checks. Most of the time, though, Russo let you chill and fuck around in your office…. Which was right across from his. He made it clear you could wear what you like and decorate the space however you pleased.

“So if I show up to work covered in every color of the rainbow, that’s fine?” You ask suspiciously.

“If that’s what you’re most comfortable in, then sure. I know you hate the clothes you’ve been wearing, so wear something you actually like.”

You look up at him with narrowed eyes. “How did you know that?”

“You take off the blazer and unbutton your neck and cuffs the second you enter your office. Plus Frank told me.” He grins, distracting you and you quickly look away.

“Fine, I’m putting a bean bag and a rocking chair in here.”

“Sounds good, charge it to the company card. You can charge the clown costume you’re thinking about buying too.”

“I was not thinking about buying a clown costume for work, Russo…. I was thinking of a cowboy costume.”

“I would expect nothing less from you, sweetheart,” he says before quickly leaving your office. You stick your tongue out at his back.

“I saw that,” he yells over his shoulder.

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