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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

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Come Out and Play 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as non/dubcon, age gap, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your mom welcomes an old friend back into her life that brings chaos with him.

Characters: Thor, Loki

Note: Two silverfoxes for the price of one

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Thor loves thunder. Take care. 💖

Your mother’s singing along to her favourite Donna Summer classic as you come through the front door. She doesn’t hear you as you drop your bag and your boots at the door. You cluck and shake your head as you tiptoe down the hallway and peer into the kitchen. All this just because you’re staying the night?

You tilt your head and squint at her diligent fingers. She roles the filo around the filling and places each little pocket on a pan. The warmth of the stove radiates through the space and beckons you in. After the frigid chill of your apartment, it’s a relief.

You waft over to the counter with the smell of baking pastry and chopped peppers. You stand beside your mom quietly and smile at her work. Her arm collides with yours and she looks down at you. She squeals and tosses one of the uncooked hors d’oevres. It sticks to the wall before falling apart.

“Oh, my!” She puts her hand to her chest and raises her voice, “Alexa, lower volume.” The music recedes and you back up with an apologetic bow. “Hon, I didn’t know you were here. Oh, I hate when you sneak up on me like that.”

It’s not intentional, more a bad habit. You’re a bit too quiet for your own good sometimes. And hers.

“Sorry,” you mutter and turn your attention back to the pan, “...lotta food...”

“Yes, I—I'm so sorry, I didn’t mention. I forgot.” She rambles as she does. Where you’re quiet and reserved, she often talks in streams of nervousness. “When you called, I was so busy and I had so much going on in my head. Sometimes it feels like there’s a hamster in there running on its wheel.” She throws her hands up in emphasis, “anywho, I’m so sorry to hear about the building, did the landlord say when the heat will be fixed?”

“...dunno,” you shrug and sway. “...the food?”

“Oh, right, yes! I was saying, dear, I have an old friend coming over. He’s just moved to town and I was so excited to hear from him. We went to college together! I last saw him when I was probably your age. He’s so nice, you know? And we kinda found each other online when I was looking up fake flowers for the new door wreath. I was thinking pinecones would be seasonal but then it occured to me I could get some real ones from the part--”

“Mom,” you rein her in with a dulcet drone.

“Ah, my friend, I know! He’s so lovely. You’ll like him. I figure, we can have dinner and some drinks. You’re welcome to join.”

You nod and peek over skeptically at the bottle of wine, “wouldn’t wanna invade. Should’ve said something.”

“You know you’re always welcome here,” she reaches for you and you catch her wrists, keeping her sticky hand from touching your cheeks. “Oops!” She giggles and recoils. She turns and rinses her hands off. “Sorry, hon.”

“I’ll stay out of the way,” you assure her.

“Don’t be shy. Oh, and make sure you at least get some food.” She flutters around and dries off with a hand towel. “You’ll like him. Thor is super nice! He knew your dad too.”

You nod and don’t comment on the last part. You never really knew your father yourself. He left when you were young. He didn’t go very far but you see your half-sibling in passing at the mall or even a few times at college. Thankfully, you’re all done with classes.

“Alright,” you agree. “I’ll put my stuff away.”

She hums and tells the smart speaker to turn it back up. You leave in the blare of disco music and grab your bag from the entryway. You wish you’d known she was having company. You would have just made do with some extra blankets.

As if to blow away that thought, the wind whistles and shakes the windows. You go upstairs and put your knapsack on the wooden chair by the narrow desk against the wall. You stretch your arms and yawn as you pace around. Your stomach growls as the aromas in the kitchen follow you up.

You go back down, hoping to assuage your appetite with some water, and as you get the bottom step, the doorbell chimes. You stop and wait, staring at the door. You mom sings along to Lipps, Inc and you sigh.

You hop down and shuffle to the door. You pull it open, hiding behind it shyly. The man on the other side searches over your head before he thinks to look down. As you peek around wood, he smiles.

He’s tall. Very tall. And his shoulders are as wide as the large oak in the front yard. His hair shines beneath the light hung beside the door as his eyes sparkle.

He holds a cone of flowers, the petals bristling in the fall wind, as shadow dims their colour.

“Hm, I must have the wrong address,” he leans back on his heel and reads the numbers on the siding. “You wouldn’t happen to know where Selina lives?”

“Here,” you squawk awkwardly.

“Oh? You’ve shrunk... but you’ve aged well.” He tilts his head but his lips suggest he’s joking.

“She’s in the kitchen. Wait.”

You close the door in his face. It’s only as you go to get your mom, that you realise how rude you must have seemed. You didn’t invite him in or introduce yourself. Well, he isn’t here for you, is he?

You go to the smart speaker and tap the button to pause the music, “he’s here.”

“Oh!” She squeals and bounces, “already?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod and back out of her way as she hurries to the door.

She sweeps through and swings the door open. A gust of wind blows in and you peer around the door frame. The man’s deep voice booms out.

“Selina! You look just as young as the day we met!”

“Oh you!” She chirps. “You always were the worst liar.”

“Mm, I am very honest, Seli,” he rumbles. “And who was that little mouse that was scurrying around? She fled so fast, I did not get a name.”

“Oh, that’s my daughter,” she explains. “I told you about her. Her radiator broke so she’s here for the night. Always nice to have a full nest!”

“Of course, of course,” he agrees. “Well, I wish I’d known. I’d have brought two bouquets.”

“These are so lovely. When did you get so sweet, Thor?”

“I’ve always been sweet, you were just too distracted to notice,” he retorts.

She laughs and titters around, “I need a vase. Oh, these are beautiful! Ooh, and a much needed pop of colour. I do hate the winter and it’s coming so fast. Please, come in, come in! You must be freezing.”

He chuckles, amused by her chatter, “you know I always liked the cold.”

“Mm, you would. Well, not all of us can bear it. Honey! Oh, there you are,” she pokes her head out from the dining room. “Come, meet my friend.”

You reluctantly come forward. You fold your hands together and drag your feet. You should’ve stayed upstairs.

“This is Thor. We both took architecture together!”

You nod and look at her wide-eyed. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze but you know he’s watching you. You rock and twine your fingers between each other.

“She just finished her own degree. She took literature! Isn’t that so lovely?”

“Literature? Ah, my brother was always a fan,” he muses. “I do like some good story telling but I could never pick up much on the symbolism.”

You slant your lips, “oh, cool.”

“Anyway, I have some wine, why don’t you have a glass while I finish dinner? Hon, you want some too?” She stops beside you with the cluster of flowers. You shake your head.

You flit up around the staircase, crowded by Thor as he lurks there, and you quickly flee. You don’t look back as you turn down the hall and barrel into his room. You can’t make out your mother’s words as she speaks but his laughter thunders up after you.

You hide in your room and harrumph. You don’t know why you’re like this. Even at work, you can’t help but try to blend into the wall. It’s not hard to do in the stock room.

You take out your laptop and resign yourself to a night of Netflix. You’re a bit disappointed. You were hoping to spend some time with your mom but she deserves a life of your own. For all the years she spent making sure you got this far, she’s earned it.

You turn the speakers up until they hurt your ears. You can still hear their voices below. The savoury scent of your mother’s cooking rise with their conversation. You didn’t realise how much you missed her dinners until now. Those frozen dinners and fast-food deliveries can’t compare with the real thing.

You hunker down in bed and try not to think of your growling stomach. You’ll wait to reheat some once that guy leaves. You sink down further and further, basking in the warmth of blasting from the vents. You dread going back to your apartment, even after the heat is fixed.

Your eyelids begin to itch but before you can drift off, there’s a knock on your door. You get up and open it for your mom. The plate in her hands has your mouth watering as you get another whiff of her handwork.

“Here ya go, hon,” she holds it out. “I’m sorry it’s a full house.”

“It’s okay. Didn’t have to.”

“You need to eat,” she insists. You take the plate. “We’ll try to be quiet. You know he’s so loud. He always has been. He makes me seem tame, doesn’t he?”

You smile at her yapping. She’s so vibrant and chatty. You never could be even when you try. You envy how bright she can be. You feel so dull next to her. Sometimes you feel like you’ve disappointed her.

“Thanks," you murmur.

“No problem! Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You wait for her to go before you close the door. You might not have a dad but you’re lucky to have her. You put the plate on your desk and move your laptop. You eat as you watch the show that isn’t as good as the internet suggested.

The food is delicious. The little stuffed pastries are a bit spicy and you regret not grabbing a glass of water earlier. You got so distracted by that man. You think of sneaking down but you can just drink from the bathroom sink when you finish. A little tap water won’t hurt.

You clear your plate quicker than you mean to and go back to the bed. The moonlight wavers outside your window as the night ware on. You yawn and make yourself get up. You can’t leave your dirty plate in here.

You don’t notice the quiet in the house until you open the door. You listen at the top of the stairs before you descend. Slowly and silently, you make your way to the bottom and curve around to the kitchen. You rinse your plate off and grab some water while you have the chance.

Your pulse builds as the house remains still. Strange. How did you not realise earlier? Well, you had your laptop cranked up. You can hear it from down there.

You head back upstairs, balancing the glass in the dark, and as you pass your mom’s door, it opens. You yipe as a large figure collides with you. It’s him. Thor.

You spill the water down your front and whip around to face him. He steadies you with his hand on your shoulder, “so sorry, mouse. I didn’t mean to--”

His flannel shirt is undone and the soft glow of a lamp limns him from behind. Oh no! You pull away from him and skirt down the hall. Embarrassment nips at your ears and cheeks. You knew you were intruding on your mom’s night.

You try not to think of what you interrupted as you dip into the spare room and snap the door shut with a kick of your foot. You stay near the door, breathless, until you hear the bathroom door squeak on its hinges. You shake your head and growl.

You hope you didn’t ruin it. As awkward as it is to think of your mom in a relationship, she’s been alone for so long and you know you’re part of the reason why. Next time, you won’t go running back to mommy. It’s best for both of you that you grow up.

#thor #loki #dark thor #dark loki #dark!thor #dark!loki #thor x reader #loki x reader #au #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #come out and play #marvel #mcu #avengers

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kaleidoscopewritings19 · 2 years ago

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Bruce Wayne x BATMOM!Reader

Title: "Blood thirsty Gremlin"

Character(s): Bruce Wayne, Female!Batmom!Reader, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, and Tim Drake.

Warnings: None

Prompts Used: In bold print and credit goes to @skriveting

NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO POST/TRANSLATE MY WORK TO OTHER APPS OR WEBSITES. Thank you <3

OTHER BATMOM!READERS (CLICK THE TITLES)

"A Snowman, A Nosebleed, and the Wayne's"-CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

"Annabelle" - HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

"A Trophy and Chloroform"

Every summer, Bruce would have the field behind Wayne Manor cleaned, trimmed, and tended to. The grass would be cut, the trees would be cleaned up, and overall, the field was maintained. Bruce even added a man-made stream to divide the field in half.

There was reasoning as to why this said field was properly maintained, and so much effort was put into it. This reasoning was the Wayne’s Summer Fun! (At least, that is what you called it)

Every Summer, your family would choose one day out of the week to camp, cook out, and stay in the field to play games all week long.

Bruce and the boys gave up their vigilante antics for the week so you could spend quality time together. Plus, you just wanted the boys to feel like they had a good childhood, and it wasn’t just full of training and fighting criminals once the sun went down.

It was the end of the week and tomorrow the boys would go back to their normal schedule, and you and Bruce would go back to work. Every year, you would end “The Wayne’s Summer Fun” with a game of capture the flag. The boys loved it, and every year, you would switch up team members so the games would stay interesting.

And every year, one of the teams would receive a trophy, that was normally given to the winner of monopoly, and every year, someone would end up in a fight. (But that story has already been told: click here to read).

This year, your team consisted of Bruce and Damian. Jason, Dick, and Tim were the blue team, and your team was the red team. Alfred was merely just the mediator, and he would sit in a deer stand that Bruce had built just for the purpose of this game.

Alfred always explained the game, even though everyone knew how to play. “Each team has a flag and will hide it at eye level, but not in direct site. Each team needs to have an offense and a defense, and a spot they call jail.” he said, and he cleared his throat. “Switch offense and defense often. Those who are in offense will go and try to capture the other team’s flag and take it back to their side of the field. Those in defense, will capture those who try to take the flag and put them in jail.”

Jason sighed, “Alfred, we know-”

Alfred spoke over Jason, “HOWEVER, players of the team that has captured members, can retrieve their partners from the jail and take them back to their base. As always, protect your flags! The first team to retrieve a flag and get it to their home base, will receive this, trophy.” Alfred smiled as he held the gold trophy in his hand.

Each side had an equivalent number of trees, and you, Bruce, and Damian took off running towards your home base. Damian held the flag, “Okay, between these trees will be perfect. The bushes cover it, and its eye level, so technically we are not breaking any rules.”

You and Bruce looked over at each other, “Sounds good to me. Now, Damian and I will obviously be offense and you be defense.” Bruce said, and your hands went to your hips.

“Why am I always defense?” you asked, and Bruce and Damian stared at each other.

Last Year

You were placed in defense, and your team consisted of Tim and Dick. Jason, Bruce, and Damian were a team, and Damian happened to sneak past you. The sound of a twig snapping caught your attention, and you jumped into action.

Damian was standing next to your blue flag, and about to take off with it. But when his eyes met yours, he bolted, making you chase after him. You threw a few pinecones at Damian, but he dodged them all. He was quick on his feet for being so little, but you jumped, and tackled Damian to the ground.

“Come on Dami, give mom the flag!” you shouted as you tried to grab it out of his hands. Damian flailed like a fish, and shouted, “NEVER!” You started tickling him, until he dropped the flag.

Damian laid on the ground out of breath from laughing. You stood up, picked up your flag, and picked Damian off of the ground and took him back to your bases jail. “Don’t mess with momma.” you said before leaving Damian in the "jail".

End of Flashback

“I wasn’t that bad!” you exclaimed, and Bruce smiled.

“Mom, you were throwing pinecones at me! And you tackled me to the ground!” Damian said, and you gave them both a nervous smile. “Okay, that wasn’t my best motherly moment. But in my defense, I am competitive. I can’t help it.” you say as you ruffled Damian’s hair.

Bruce pressed a kiss to your lips. “That’s why I married you, honey. I like your competitiveness.”

“Okay, guys, we need to get going. Alfred just blew the whistle.” Damian took off running, leaving you and Bruce behind.

MEANWHILE....

“Jason, that’s cheating!” Tim exclaimed as Jason placed the flag on the ground behind a big rock. “It’s not cheating.” Jason said, as he turned to look at Tim.

“Alfred said, the flag must be eye level. So, having it lying on the ground is cheating.” Tim explained and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Tim, look down.” Jason said, and Tim looked down. “Can you see the flag?”

Tim nodded, and Jason clapped his hand to Tim’s back. “Okay then. It’s eye level.” Dick looked between Jason and the flag and smiled. “He’s got a point.”

Jason stood up on the rock, “I have decided I will be the defense, while you two be the offense. Damian will always try to be the first one to get the flag, and I want to be the one to put the spawn in jail.” he said as he hopped off the rock.

The boys heard the whistle blow, “Let’s go win us a trophy, now break!” Jason yelled, and Tim and Dick took off down the field.

...

You and Bruce had waited for Damian to return, but he never did. The sound of twigs and sticks snapping caught both yours and the Batman’s attention. Bruce held a finger to his lips and crept off through the trees. You waited patiently, and Bruce came back with Tim and Dick by the collars of their shirts.

“They thought they could sneak past the bat.” Bruce said, and he led them away to the place you guys picked as jail. "You did not just say that..." Dick said as Bruce tossed them both into jail.

When he came back, he smiled, “They made the mistake of sending out two scouts. I am going to check on Damian and I will be right back.”

You checked on Tim and Dick and they were lying on the ground. “Why would you send out two of your scouts?” you questioned, and they shrugged their shoulders. “It’s the last time we let Jason call the shots.” Dick mumbled, and Tim threw a rock.

Ruffling both of the boys’ hair, Tim spoke, “Well, at least it was dad who got to us. Mom would’ve tackled us both.”

“Or worse, she would’ve thrown pinecones at us, or landed us in the ER..” Dick shuddered, and you rolled your eyes. “Have fun in jail, boys.”

You ran back to your hiding spot. and Bruce came back with no sign of Damian. “He must be up in a tree strategizing. He’s not in jail, and he’s nowhere to be found.”

Both you and Bruce heard a sneeze, and you looked around frantically. Bruce pulled you behind a tree, and the two of you peeked out towards the left of the field. Jason, Dick, and Tim were all creeping around, and you turned to Bruce.

“It was a trap! This was Jason’s plan all along!” you whisper shouted, “That little shit....” you whispered, and Bruce chuckled. “It’s not funny, Bruce! If we lose this--”

Bruce placed a hand on your shoulder, "It's just a game of Capture the Flag honey, it's not that serious-"

You looked Bruce straight in the eyes, "If we lose this, I'm divorcing you."

Bruce sprang into action, and the two of you went after one of the boys one at a time. Jason was the hardest to catch; somehow, you were able to climb a tree, and once Jason walked underneath, you leaped down at him.

Jason let out a scream and hit the ground, “OUCH!” Jason cradled his arm, and pain raced up through your left leg. Bringing your leg to your chest, you held onto it, and Bruce, Tim, and Dick came running.

“What happened?” Bruce asked as he raced to your side.

“Mom jumped from the tree like a blood thirsty gremlin and tackled me to the ground. I think my arm is broken...” Jason said, and Bruce looked at you with an eyebrow raised.

“I think my leg is broken....” you said, and Bruce shook his head. He lifted you up off the ground, and Tim and Dick helped Jason off of the ground. “Another trip the ER. They might as well give us a room with our name on it.” Bruce mumbled.

-----

LATER THAT EVENING

Your leg had a cast, and you were on crutches. Jason had a broken arm, and you had a fractured leg. “Your competitiveness has gotten the better of you. Again.” Bruce said as he helped you into bed.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I thought you loved my competitiveness?” you questioned, and Bruce laughed. “I do, trust me I do. Sometimes I think you should have been a Navy Seal Operative.”

Alfred walked into the room and Dick trailed behind him with Damian in his arms. Damian had a red flag wrapped around his mouth, and duct tape around his wrists and ankles.

“Oh my gosh, who did this?” you say and you motioned for Dick to place your youngest son on the bed. You tried your best to untie him. One you took the flag out of his mouth Damian coughed.

“I was outside for three hours! Where were you guys?” he asked, and you looked down at your leg. Damian stared, “Woah. How’d that happen?” he asked, and your cheeks turned red.

Bruce sighed. “Your mom and Jason were the ones to get in a tussle this time around. But- what happened to you exactly?" Bruce asked and everyone turned their attention to youngest Wayne.

"It was Jason! I almost had their flag, and he jumped me from behind and tied me up!" then Damian started looking around the room. "Speaking of which... where is he?" Damian looked past Dick and seen Jason trying to creep out of the bedroom.

Before you and Bruce could grab Damian, he leaped off of the bed and hurled toward Jason. And a loud smack could be heard around the world and Jason's pained scream could also be heard in a thirty-mile radius.

"Don't mess with me!" Damian shouted as he bowed up at Jason. Alfred walked into the bedroom with the trophy in hand, "I assume that I get to keep this trophy?"

Bruce and you shared a glance at one another, "Because I have captured both flags." Alfred said as he smiled and waved both flags. That year, Alfred was the Wayne Summer Fun Victor.

------------------

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this x reader! This was meant to be posted in the summer, but oh well. I hope you all have a great weekend! Let me know your thoughts on this x reader in the comments!

XOXO

#bruce wayne x y/n #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #batmom #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #tim drake #alfred pennyworth

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sometimesanalice · 2 years ago

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In a Place Just Right

Summary: It's your first year hosting Thanksgiving in San Diego for the Daggers and Bradley can tell you're a little nervous about it. But he already knows it's going to be one for the books, because any holiday spent with you better than anything he could have imagined.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5K

Warnings: fluff and allusions to smut (minors dni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the 'Like I Can Universe', but can be read on its own! Happy Thanksgiving, friends!)

For the last six years Penny has been the one to host Daggersgiving, but this year hostess duties had fallen on your plate. Needless to say, Bradley knew you were more than a little stressed about it.

When you had asked him about his opinion on the merits of canned cranberry sauce versus homemade he’d blinked at you a few times before asking, “Is this a thing people care about?”

He’ll never forget how adorably aghast you looked to learn that he had no preference on the matter. And maybe if you had asked him when the sun was up instead of at 3 AM he might have known better than to give you such a noncommittal answer.

“Both, we’ll have both,” you’d stated resolutely.

“Whatever you want, kid," he’d murmured as he’d pulled you to his chest and wrapped an arm around your stomach. His smart and beautiful wife. "Now go back to sleep, you’re supposed to be dreaming of sugarplums not cranberries."

“Wrong holiday, Bradley,” you’d sighed contentedly, relaxing against him. And it hadn’t taken you long to fall back asleep with that cranberry crisis having been averted.

But now people were due to show up in less than an hour and you are frantically fluttering and huffing around the kitchen like a madwoman in a very pretty green dress, "I knew that quickie was a bad idea. You're never quick, Bradley."

He’d been away and missed many holidays over the years due to his career.

Your mom had always made it clear that he had an open invitation to join in whatever merry festivities were happening with your family, but more often than not it rarely aligned with him being stationed all over the world. But he’d always been happy to get to have a phone call with you and eat the homemade cookies you’d sent him on those years spent apart.

But now Bradley got to look forward to spending every holiday with you in the home you shared with him.

Over the last week the house had slowly but surely transformed into something that was straight out of a magazine.

There was a display of pumpkins, ribbons, and a garland of strung dried orange slices that decorated the fireplace. And overpriced candles from your favorite store flickered cheerfully on every surface that wasn’t a fire hazard to a bunch of enthusiastic Naval aviators. The dining table was dressed up to the nines and everyone spot with their names painstakingly written in your pretty script on a place card sitting in a pinecone.

You had even made some oversized confetti in the shape of oak leaves out of some old books, the copy of ‘Why Men Love Bitches’ that Nat had given him years ago as a joke was finally repurposed and recycled into something more festive over where the beverages had been set up.

The whole house smells amazing. Warm cinnamons and nutmegs mixing with bright citrus and rich vanillas. The kitchen island and countertops were filled with various plates and platters and bowls of dips, charcuterie, fruit and vegetables, nuts, and other savories. All the other dishes were being kept warm in the ovens for when everyone arrived and was ready to settle around the dining table for dinner.

Bradley was positive that no one would leave feeling hungry. He also wasn’t entirely sure where the things his friends are bringing were going to go, but there were worse problems to have.

Penny had taken Amelia with her to visit her family on the East Coast. They’d decided it would probably be better for Mav to hang back in San Diego for the holiday, those tensions with her dad were still a bit strained even though they’d been married for almost four years now.

Which is how the Bradshaw’s were hosting their first Thanksgiving for everyone.

This morning had been organized chaos. Some of the last minute-things had only managed to be checked off with the assistance of strong coffee and a good playlist.

However, he’d still managed to sneak in the opportunity to spin you around the kitchen to your wedding song when it came up on shuffle. After all the cranberries were still popping and boiling down; there was time for it, he'd always make time for it.

But that was then.

Now, you are glaring at him like you’d been personally victimized by him and his cock.

“You complaining, sweet girl?” he asks with a smirk, leaning his hip against the kitchen island watching as you briskly stir the gravy heating up in the copper sauce pot on the stove. “Don’t think that’s what I was hearing thirty minutes ago when we had that pretty green dress of yours bunched around your hips. Sounded something like ‘more, Bradley, more’ to me.”

You shoot him a look that would make a weaker man wither, but he’s built up an immunity to it over a lifetime of having it directed at him.

“I think that’s quite enough out of you,” you reprimand, but he sees the amusement in your eyes even as you fight to keep the annoyed façade on your face. “We’re behind schedule now. I thought I buffered in enough time, just in case-”

“Just in case you begged me to give you an orgasm to, and I quote, ‘help me chill out’?”

“I was kidding,” you say, stopping your agitated whisking to go fluff the stuffing instead.

“All I’m saying is that if my beautiful wife is begging for me, I’m certainly not going to say no. I’m only human,” he says with an all too pleased shrug.

Bradley grabs the can opener and works on opening the canned cranberry sauce. He reaches for a couple plates, holding them up for your approval and you point to the one on the right, the scalloped white one with gold rim.

“For the record, I certainly did not beg,” you say primly, glowering into the homemade stuffing that you’d had him get the bread from the nice bakery across town for.

“Sure, sure,” he drawls, the smirk growing wider on his face as he sets to freeing the jelly from its rippled container.

He knows he shouldn’t tease you right now, but you’re so cute when you get huffy that he can’t help himself. He’s known that petulant raise of your chin his whole life. And sometimes when he looks at you he can so clearly see the little girl he’d been forced to entertain for hours when your moms were hanging out.

You went from being his favorite nuisance to his best friend to his everything.

“Do I still look ok? Or do I need to do a quick refresh before everyone gets here?” you ask. You turn to fully face him, tilting your head one way and then another for his inspection.

He would happily stare at you all day if you’d let him. He loves your pretty eyes and what you’ve done with your hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins, “And if anyone asks, we can just say you’re flushed from all the cooking.”

“Bradley,” you whine setting down your wooden spoon down on the counter with a sharp thwack.

“Ok, ok. I’m done, I promise,” he says putting his hands up in surrender with a chuckle.

He pushes off the counter and grabs a glass off of one of the floating shelves and fills it with some ice water.

“Good,” you tut haughtily, as you fiddle with the white and orange striped kitchen towel hanging on the oven door, “I was about to threaten to make you sleep on the couch tonight.”

“You wouldn’t.” Even the thought of it makes his stomach feel unsettled.

After nearly two decades of hard beds on foreign bases and on lumpy carrier mattresses, he’s never slept as well as he did since the two of you found your way to each other.

His peace was found under a fluffy green duvet on a wooden canopy bed with you tucked under his arm.

“No. No, I wouldn’t,” you agree, leaning in to place a soft kiss to his cheek in thanks when he presses the cold glass into your hands.

Bradley tugs you away from the warm stove and you reluctantly follow and sit on the barstool he’s pulled out for you on the other side of the kitchen island.

He runs his hand up and down your back comfortingly as you take a few sips, “We’re in a great place, sweet girl.”

“Mhm, yeah. Sure, of course.” You couldn’t sound less unsure if you tried. “It’s just… I’m nervous about the mushroom and leeks bread pudding. I’ve never made it before. And what if we run out of wine?”

“What’s been our motto?” he asks, taking over the helm at the stove whisking the gravy together as it begins to thicken.

“‘In Ina we trust’,” you say with a serious nod of your head.

“Atta girl, we sure do. And Nat said she’s is bringing a few bottles she picked up from when she went to Napa, the good shit. It’s going to be great. Trust me,” he says giving you a warm smile. “Will it make you feel better to go over everything again?”

“Yes, please,” you say, anxiously drumming your fingers along the side of your water glass.

He’d stepped up where he could like making sure the house was pristine and cleaning up the yard by blowing off the wrinkled remainders of the yellow Tipuana flowers. He’d even been able to source and rent some more chairs to make sure that everyone would have a seat at the table.

Bradley wasn’t a schlump in the kitchen. He knew his way around a cookbook and a stove. His knife skills were pretty damn good too, if he did say so himself. But he also knew when somethings were out of his wheelhouse. So he’d taken to being your sous chef, and had taken to washing and prepping the ingredients for you so that all you had to do was toss them in whatever shiny pot they were destined for.

He even made his mom’s favorite pie. It had been years since he's had it, and he was excited to share it with everyone.

Your mom had mailed the copy of the original recipe she had that was written in Carole’s rounded, flourished script. You had made a photocopy of it to use so that the original didn’t get ruined, and then pointed out a spot on the wall where you said you’d thought it would look nice in a frame hanging in the kitchen. And he'd fallen a little more in love with you.

“Ok, hit me with it,” he says turning the heat to low for the gravy and putting the lid on.

This was a partnership through and through, he was going to give you all the support you needed.

“The turkey?”

Bradley picks up the fancy digital meat thermometer he’d bought for the occasion to check, “Big Bird has an hour and twenty more minutes to work on his tan and then he’ll rest for another thirty. Giving people time to graze and mingle and get some drinks in them, just like you wanted.”

You nod and hum contemplatively, “I’ve been thinking we need a salad. I don’t feel like we have enough vegetable options.”

He knows better than to point out that you’re currently snacking on snap peas from not one, but three, of the veggie platters the two of you had put together the night before.

“We’ve got the crispy brussels sprouts, the garlic and hazelnut green beans, and the honey glazed carrots with lemon. We’re more than fine on the fiber and beta-carotene. Michelle Obama would be proud, kid.”

That gets a little laugh from you.

“Well, as long as you think Michelle would be happy than we’re probably fine,” you say with a smile around your water glass that tells him you know exactly what he’s doing invoking your favorite First Lady.

“What else are you thinking about?” Bradley asks peering in the lower of their double ovens, where foiled covered dishes are lined up in perfect symmetry are warming away having been prepared in advance.

“Do you think two bags of rolls will be enough? Or should I text Mav and ask him to grab one more?”

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes dip down to his ass in his gray slacks. So he might linger as second longer than necessary to let you enjoy the view, since it’s for the female gaze and all.

He’s never understood wearing the most restrictive clothing on the holiday that involves the most eating, but that was Penny’s tradition to have everyone dressed in their nicest and you had insisted on keeping it going even if she was on the other side of the country.

You’d teased him earlier when you’d seen him emerge from the bedroom wearing the short-sleeved green cashmere polo you’d gotten him a couple years ago. It fit a little more snug that he remembered it, but he thought he still pulled it off well.

“When did we become the couple that matches?” you’d asked gesturing to your dress as you gave him an appreciative onceover.

If the past was anything to go off of, you would be running your hands over the soft material covering his chest and back all night.

“I just like reminding people who I belong with, sweet girl.”

He might have had something else in mind to wear for the evening before he saw you in that dress, had ironed the shirt the night before and everything, but last-minute pivot it was well worth it when you looked at him like that.

When he stands back up, he gives you knowing wink.

And in return you throw a baby carrot at him with a laugh.

Bradley isn’t surprised in the least to hear the quick clack-clack-clack of nails on the wood floors as their fluffy black and white Portuguese Water Dog rounds the corner. Having been summoned by the sound of food hitting the floor from where he had been dozing near the fireplace in the living room.

The carrot is gone in an instant and he comes to sit at Bradley's feet by the stove, looking up at him from under his curly eyebrows clearly hoping he'll get another snack.

“Nah, bud. You’re barking up the wrong tree over here,” he says leaning down to scratch his floppy ears.

“Ah, come here, Duck,” you croon, calling him over to your side of the island. “He’s so mean for a man who claimed he just saw God not too long ago, isn’t he?”

Bradley snorts and shakes his head at you amused.

He still doesn’t know how he ended up with a dog named Duck.

At the dog park, more often than not people mistook it for ‘Buck’. And you were usually off to the side more than happy to let him take the lead, biting your lip to keep from laughing at his less than enthusiastic expression when he’d have to warily explain yet again It’s Duck like quack.

You’re not even subtle about the piece of cheese you pull from the charcuterie board to feed him.

“I saw that,” he says, giving you a pointed lift of his eyebrow, “You know Bob is going to be spoiling him all night.”

“It was just a little piece of cheese. Plus, I don’t know who you think you’re fooling. I saw you go over there and deliver him his own little veggie platter with some of the leftovers we had while I was making the apple cider sangria.”

“That’s different, that’s good for him,” he says rounding the island, reaching over and snagging his own slice of cheese to snack on.

“And cheese is a protein. He’s just a baby, Bradley, what am I supposed to do? Not give him a piece of swiss?” You slide off your chair to squat down and rub Duck’s belly, you’ve always been his favorite.

“He’s almost five,” he replies flatly.

“A youth!” you exclaim, “He’s a growing boy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley says affectionately with a little roll of his eyes. He knows a losing battle when he sees one.

He offers you his hand to help you stand back up, but you wave him off and pull yourself up using the edge of the island. You take a moment to readjust your dress before making your way to the sink by the big windows that look out into the backyard.

“Speaking of Bob, do you know if he’s bringing his fiancée?” you ask from over your shoulder as you wash your hands.

“Not this time, sweetheart. I guess she volunteered to cover a shift in the NICU when she heard they were short staffed.”

“Oh that’s too bad, I was excited to see her ring in person,” you say drying off your hands and heading to the pantry.

“It’s all he can talk about at work. I guess they’re thinking about a Spring wedding next year. They don’t want to wait too long to get married.”

“I’m so happy for them,” you say, digging around for a moment and then emerge with a stack of some sturdy plastic plates and set them on the last free spot on the countertop. “Don’t let me forget to make them up a couple plates that he can bring home for her, before Fanboy declares it time for ‘second dinner’ and eats all the yams like he did last year.”

“I won’t forget, promise,” he says fondly.

If you were facing him, he knows you’d probably tease him for the look on his face and just how gone he is for you.

You’ve always been so generous, it’s one of the things that he loves most about you.

You were always good about hustling him out of his well-earned money from is part time job scooping ice cream in high school, like with the fundraiser you did for the local soup kitchen and the one for the elementary school summer arts program.

He’s always been wrapped around your finger, it just took him awhile to realize why.

It’s the same reason why there’s been a donation that comes out of his bank account every month for the last five years for one of the San Diego animal shelters.

Bradley had made a rather sizable donation and then set up a smaller reoccurring monthly one after the chaos that was the time Bob had set you up with his friend who worked at the shelter, back before the two of you had gotten together.

Even after all these years, he still can’t help but get a little irritated every time he sees that guy’s face in the monthly newsletter that comes to his email. He’s pretty sure Casey still might have a little crush on you, but Bradley can’t blame him. He’d have a hard time getting over you too, so it’s a good thing he’ll never have to.

On newsletter day, Bradley always finds himself giving Duck extra treats.

You are his wife. And Duck is his dog. Ridiculous name and all.

He couldn’t wait to surprise you with the golden tennis ball that the shelter sends out as a thank you after a decade of donations.

Only five more years to go.

You’re over by the bar that’s been set up off to the side, straightening the already very straight rows of gleaming wine glasses when he hears you suck in a sharp gasp.

Bradley drops the dish cloth he had in his hands as he attempted to give what little counter space there was left a final wipe down and is in front of you in half a heartbeat. Was there a fluke with some faulty stemware? Are you bleeding? There’s a reason Thanksgiving is one of the busiest days at the hospital.

“The butter!” you cry out as you whirl around, your pretty eyes welling up with tears, “I let you fuck me and I forgot to pull the butter from the fridge. It’s going to be too hard for people to spread now!”

He knows it’s more than just hosting jitters that’s got you like this, but it still catches him by surprise sometimes.

“Woah, woah,” he says as he catches you on the way to the fridge and pulls you to his chest, “C’mere, my sweet girl.”

You make a distressed noise but allow him to keep his hold on you, “But the butter…”

“I already pulled the butter, see?” He points to the sticks that are already softening away on the counter. “This place looks and smells amazing. We did good, baby. Will you take a couple slow breaths for me, please?”

Bradley takes in a couple measured breathes with you, and feels the moment your body relaxes into his.

He presses a kiss to the side of your temple as he smooths his hands down your soft, pretty green velvet dress and the warm, firm curve of your rounded stomach soothingly.

“Ugh, I’m sorry. It’s the hormones,” you sigh, as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

He hums empathically as he sways gently side to side with you in his arms.

“I would like to go on the record saying that I like pregnancy hormones, especially the ones from earlier,” he jokes lightly.

“That makes one of us,” you say with a watery laugh, “Just wait until I am waking you up at 4 AM because I am craving something from a drive-thru that’s not open.”

“Mm, can’t wait,” he murmurs before dropping a few kisses along the soft line of your jaw.

Bradley still can’t believe he gets to be this lucky in life.

He doesn’t want to forget a single moment of this. With you, with his family.

“We did a really good job with this one,” he whispers into your ear, still stroking your stomach and enjoying this moment of calm with you.

“We really did, da--” Bradley groans and cuts you off with a kiss. He can feel the impish smile plastered on your lips as he kisses you. His favorite menace.

He knows you’re pretty sure it was the spontaneous hook up in the storage closet at the Hard Deck on the Fourth of July that’s responsible for the noticeable bump you’re sporting. Call him a romantic, but he likes to think it was that night in the Bronco overlooking the ocean when he’d taken the long way back home.

You pull away all too soon for his liking to grab his left hand. He sees the flash of the two diamonds on your engagement ring, one from his mom and one from yours, as you take it and press it to a spot near your bellybutton.

The feeling of the fluttering under his palm will never get old. He’s not too proud to say he’d shed a tear or two the first time he’d felt it.

You hum in contentment, your finger lightly tracing over the shiny gold band of his wedding ring.

Bradley lets himself bask in this moment as the two of you stand there in the kitchen of your dream house.

There are a few pops from the wood in the fireplace, the refrigerator is humming away in the background, and he can just hear the sounds of a melodic piano from the playlist he queued up earlier playing over the speaker.

Of all the delicious scents that waft through the house, the smell the floral and musk notes in you perfume is still his favorite.

There are times in the soft quiet of night, usually when you are asleep and his mind won’t quite settle, that he sometimes thinks he was put on this Earth to hold you.

It’s the only reason he can think of that explains why you fit so perfectly against his body.

Why his palms can fit so perfectly over your rounded stomach.

Why it’s his hands that you have trusted to protect your heart.

And he’s still holding you in the warmth of the kitchen when he hears the front door open.

Bradley knows he’s going to have to play host soon and he just wants to keep you in his arms for just a little longer.

“Hey kids, I brought the turkey,” Mav calls out from the entry.

You spin in his arms, looking at him wide eyed and confused as you two exchange a look. He presses one last kiss to your cheek before letting you go.

“Thought you were going to bring the rolls, Mav,” Bradley calls out just in time to see him round the corner.

Pete stands there proudly grinning holding a few bags of bakery rolls in one hand and a turkey in the other.

The sound of your delighted laughter makes his heart swell in his chest as he takes in the sight.

“Cooper Mitchell Ford Bradshaw, you are without a doubt the cutest turkey I have ever seen,” you gush as you go to greet Mav with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Your son’s chubby arms reaching out for you.

Mav has dressed your almost two-year-old son in a soft, plush turkey costume that is complete with tailfeathers and a beak. He’s clearly a fan of the outfit too because he is grinning widely, showing of the more of the baby teeth that have come in over the last few months.

Mav had swung by early this morning to take him off your hands to get ready for Daggersgiving without chasing an almost-toddler around. While it was nice to have some time just the two of you while you got the place in order and took care of the last-minute things, like that homemade cranberry sauce, but he’d missed not having his son around.

The sweet sound of Cooper’s giggles and your coos fill up the kitchen as he watches you pepper his face with kisses. You bounce him a little and do a little spin, making the little boy laugh even more. The two of you in your own little bubble.

“You doin’ ok over there, kid?” Mav asks. A soft, knowing grin on his face as he sets the rolls on the counter to pull him in for a hug.

The two men had made their way back to each other over the last few years, just another thing that Bradley was grateful for in his life. The man had always been his father in everything but name. That is until he’d seen the man who helped raised him hold his son for the first time.

“Yeah, Dad,” Bradley says, clearing his throat a bit, “Everything’s perfect.”

From there it’s a flurry of activity as people start to arrive.

Nat comes with her longtime girlfriend and the extra bottles of the fancy Napa wine she promised to bring. Only handing it over once he promised to give her the name of the contractor the two of you had worked with and the exact shade of green that was used on the lower cabinets during your kitchen renovation.

Payback and Fanboy and their wives show up wearing oversized turkey hats on their heads each carrying a bakery box of pie.

Bradley isn’t surprised when Duck ditches the attention that Coyote was giving him the second Bob shows up with the famous Floyd family scalloped potatoes. Bob has always been a sucker for a pair of puppy dog eyes.

And in between checking on people’s glasses, swapping out empty appetizer trays for fuller ones, and making sure Jake doesn’t tamper with his perfectly cooked turkey, he’s got his eyes trained on you.

There are no words for the pride and love that washes over him every time he looks over and sees you with his son propped up on your hip and the way your pretty dress stretches around your growing family.

He had missed this stage of your pregnancy when he was deployed and you were pregnant with Cooper. He was determined to savor every second of this one. Every butter related freak out and every late-night milkshake run.

Being in his house surrounded with all the people he loves, minus a couple who are here in spirit, isn’t something he could ever take for granted. It’s more blessings than he ever hoped to receive in this lifetime.

You look over your shoulder at him and everything about the way you’re looking at him is picture perfect.

Your smile sunshine gold and just for him as you hold his gaze for a moment as time ticks on around the two of you. You send him a little wink before turning back to Mav who has his phone held up for a FaceTime call with Penny and Amelia.

Bradley sees his son peek his head up from where it had been nestled into your neck. Cooper grins when he sees him, his tiny hand reaching out for his dad. For him.

As he makes his way over to the two of you with his heart full, he makes a mental note to ask Mav later where he got that costume. He’s already planning on running out tomorrow to see if they have any more in stock now that it seems they have a new Bradshaw tradition on their hands.

He’s going to have three little turkeys running around this time next year and he couldn’t wait.

Twins.

Bradley sometimes still couldn’t believe it. When the tech has announced that you were cooking not one, but two future Bradshaw’s, his heart had nearly burst from his chest from the shock and joy. A gift from his late father’s side of the family.

Cooper and him were going to be outnumbered soon.

The two of you had found out earlier in the month that Everly Wren Bradshaw and Millie Lark Bradshaw were going to be the newest members to join your little family.

His girls.

It was an announcement the two of you were excited to share later tonight with everyone else when the slices of pies were being passed around.

He scoops up Cooper from you with one arm, dropping a kiss onto his little boy’s perfect curls as his small fist clutches as the soft fabric of his shirt. And then Bradley kisses the crown of your head as he wraps his other arm around you, his thumb stroking the swell of your belly.

With you- because of you- he gets to have it all.

The wife. The family. The house. The dog. The life. The dream.

He’s right where he wants to be.

He’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! This was such a joy to write, thank you for reading!

It might not be Carole Bradshaw's famous pie, but it's one of my favorites! And who better to share it with than you! Cranberry-Lime Pie

If you haven't read the 'Like I Can' series you can read it here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x you

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ofswordsandpens · 2 years ago

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I've enjoyed episode 3 the most so far, but I think the show is still struggling to find a good balance between taking itself seriously and the absurdist humor that RR writes with. My main takeaways:

The Fight Scenes (or Lack Thereof?)

It seems very peculiar to me that the show is just speed running through its battle scenes. Again, it feels very much like the product of Disney trying to sanitize anything that's too extreme?

The trio fleeing from the kindly ones in the book ended with Percy taking control of the bus and then crashing it. It explodes. They lose all of their stuff (money, food). In the show, they simply bail out the back window. No true panic. No tension. Just, okay :) we're leaving now :)

The Medusa Scene. I'll speak more to this later, but in terms of the fight we get to see... well we get to see nothing. Apparently this fight required us to view it through the lens of the invisibility cap (ie. not at all),

I understand this show is intended for a younger audience, but the books are as well. Even the movies, which are pg, came up with better ways to show things without necessarily showing things. As a result, it feels like anything that might induce the slightest bit of tension or fear are sanded down and its honestly doing such a disservice to the books and the audience.

Medusa

I actually really liked this portrayal of Medusa. The 1950s housewife vibe landed well for me. And I loved the actress's voice -- very soft and soothing but always sounding as if she were just about to cry.

Also, I really liked her dialogue. Her digs at Athena and Poseidon were perfectly tragic.

That being said, I really prefer the trio's arrival to the emporium in the book. In the books, they've been wandering the woods and are lost and exhausted and hungry because of the battle/bus crash where they've lost all of their stuff. It almost feels like the emporium popping up "out of nowhere" was more of it finding them.

Meanwhile in the show, Grover finds it through scent on a satyr path and they immediately know its Medusa, which imo takes out so much of the fun of it all??? In the books, they dont know. Grover's just like, freaking the ever living fuck out, and clearly Percy and Annabeth have let him take sole custody of the shared brain cell, cause they're more concerned about getting some food than anything else

Just... RIP dumbass shenanigans

And honestly, I'm not really sure what necessitated the change here in the show (of them not being tricked). It would have been one thing if they were going to change Medusa entirely to not wanting to harm them at all, but imo, I think its arguable/evident that show Medusa was looking for an excuse to petrify Annabeth and Grover (at minimum) regardless of anything.

Honestly, I would have had the show loosely play it out as: book arrival (they dont know its Medusa), keep the dumbass energy and banter, the trio figures out it Medusa while they're eating, Medusa is the more sympathetic version we see in the show, regardless it still ends with the battle.

Also, I do mourn the book battle. The panic and absurdity is just handled better imo. Annabeth shoving them off the bench, Grover flopping all over the place with the shoes but actively getting a good few hits in, Percy having to use to the reflection to behead her... the #TeamWork was emphasized a little more there to me.

Characterization

I think the show is absolutely nailing certain parts of the characters.

They've gotten Percy's anger and his derision towards the gods down. But, I think they're actually underscoring some of his, idk, sincerity? His kindness? It was the line "she met a pinecone's fate" that just rang off to me. While undoubtedly funny, it's just such a stark difference from his reaction to Thalia's story in the books, where he was unsettled by her fate and felt a sincere sympathy for her. The line in the show I assume is meant to criticize the gods, but still, it feels like it comes at the expense of the sensitivity that he has.

They've gotten Annabeth's bluntness, intelligence, pride, and superiority down cold. No question about it. But I feel like they just need to let her be more of a 12yo kid?

Like. In canon she and Percy banter and argue over the silliest of things. She plays hacky sack with Grover and Percy. She blushes and hyperventilates when Luke interacts with her. Episode 3 is like the first time we've gotten to see her do something remotely childish (buying all that candy) and I'm just dying for more of that!! She's not the "mom" of the group and she has her canon dumbass moments. I'm hoping more of this is captured moving forward. They've gotten a good start on the banter, but let Annabeth be more silly! Cause she is!

(Absolutely none of my personal qualms about the characterization are Walker or Leah's fault. They've done amazing. It's the writing/directing I'm side-eyeing).

OH! And I'm sorry but Percy being like "Annabeth we're going to bury medusa with your hat on" would have never ever flown with Annabeth. In no world.

But Grover eating them up at the end? Iconic. Good for him.

#pjo adaptation #pjo show crit #pjo

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talonabraxas · 1 month ago

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Hanael - Archangel of Venus

Hanael, the angel of joy, pleasure, beauty and nature, is the perfect fit for the Archangel of Venus. Meaning “Joy of God” or “Grace of God,” the name Hanael likely stems from the Hebrew words hana'ah plus the suffix –el. Other spellings of the name have included Haniel, Anael and Aniel.

In art and iconography, Hanael’s traditionally depicted dressed in dark, emerald green, and smiling or laughing. She appears more often in female form than in male. In various images, she carries a rose, a lantern, or a wand tipped with a pinecone, called a thyrsus. All of these symbols are deeply intertwined with the planet Venus.

After the Sun and Moon, Venus is by far the brightest object in the sky. So bright that she casts her own shadow, and can even be seen in the daytime, if you know exactly where to look. But, as a planet between Earth and the Sun, to observers on our planet, she never travels far from the Sun before she’s drawn back to its embrace. She is forever dancing between her guise as morning star and evening star.

To the Hellenistic Greeks, who invented our familiar form of astrology, Venus was the ideal icon of love and beauty; she captivates us. In their baser form, these become physical pleasures or the desire to create beautiful works. But in its highest expression, they draw us to union with the Divine, just as Venus is always drawn back to reunite with the Sun.

And so as the Archangel of Venus, Hanael helps us find joy and pleasure in all circumstances, to create beauty in art or music, or harmony in relationships. And, it’s Hanael who reminds that while earthly love is a gift, it’s in divine love that we find our ultimate fulfillment.

Hanael’s rose is also an ancient symbol of Venus. In relation to Earth, Venus’ orbit traces out a five-pointed star every eight years. This beautiful astronomical effect has been called the Rose of Venus, a reference to the five-petalled flower, a favorite of the love goddess.

Hanael’s emerald green tunic evokes the alchemical color of Venus – green – and the fecundity of Nature. It’s Hanael’s gift to make fruitful what was once barren.

The thyrsus carries a similar meaning. Carried by the followers Dionysus, the pinecone-topped wand conjures memes of fertility, pleasure, hedonism and renewal. But on a deeper level, it alludes to another mystery – the union of male and female energies activates the pineal gland, the so-called “third eye” that brings true spiritual vision.

And, we can’t forget Hanael’s lantern. One of Venus’ earliest epithets was “light bringer”; she lights our way back to the divine. In fact, in the Zohar, one of the foundational texts of the Qabalah tradition, it was Haniel who was chosen to carry Enoch to heaven in the Merkabah to encounter God.

On the Qabalistic Tree of Life, Venus and Hanael are represented by the sphere Netzach – meaning “victory” or “eternity.” This Sephirot relates to divine immanence, the light of spirit infusing Nature and ordinary events, as well as our inner world of imagination, intuition and emotion.

When you crave the soothing balm of love and beauty in your life, or when you need to reconnect to the sweetness of the divine, seek Hanael’s aid and counsel. The most auspicious time to call upon her is Friday, Venus’ day, or in the hour of Venus.

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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 year ago

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HAHHAHA! Nothing’s stopping me from doing it TWICE!

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💕

(Bc you deserve a million of these, seriously!! But I will also send an ask to not waste your time x,D)

What are AGSZC’s YouTube search histories? >:3c

I've been wanting to tell you this for the longest time: the cable protector for my laptop charger is a Pikachu! It often kills my writer's block because I can feel its (positive) judgmental stare whenever I don't write. A+ involuntary Pichu motivation! Unfortunately I glanced at the ask this morning and completely mistook the question while I was drafting it at work

( ╥ ᴗ ╥) I unhelpfully present you:

AGSZC Google Search Histories

CLOUD:

• What to do if being stalked

• What to do if being stalked by dead man

• What to do if being stalked by dead man and mother

• Writhe meaning

• What does it mean when someone says writhe for me

• Was Sephiroth queer when he was alive

• How to talk to people without making it awkward

• Why is my memory poor

• How to tell woman I love her

• How to kill someone once and for all

• How to be a good puppet~

• HOW TO STOP MIND CONTROL IMMEDIATELY

GENESIS:

• Who would win in a fight Genesis or Sephiroth

• Genesis Rhapsodos aesthetic

• How to bully people in a goddess honoring way

• Genesis Rhapsodos video compilations

• Cowboys

• Where to rent horse

• Is Masamune heavier than Rapier

• Masamune weight

• How to fix a broken sword

• Super glue strong enough to hold sword together

• How to hide broken sword from friend

• Sephiroth sword replica for sale

• Where to buy replica of Sephiroth's sword

• How to convince a friend their sword was always broken

• Can a sword just break on its own

• Sephiroth x reader fanfiction

• Logical reasons for sword to break on its own

• Acting tips for looking surprised

• How to gaslight your friend

• How to deflect blame in conversation

• How to avoid eye contact when lying

• How to create a distraction during a confrontation

• How to flee the country

SEPHIROTH:

• Benefits of owning a cat

• Sephiroth costume

• BDSM meaning

• Name for device that extinguishes fire

• Fire extinguisher for sale

• Haunted by the faces of people long gone what do I do

• How to stop sitting on my hair

• Am I gay quiz

• Angeal Hewley shirtless

• What does it mean when you dream about being held by blue alien mother

• How to dream about blue alien mother more often

• Situations where it is appropriate to say fuck

• Can I say fuck randomly

• Where to look for items when you misplace them

• Where could I have misplaced my sword

• How to donate effectively to social causes

• Videos of people crying in regret after cutting their hair

• Can you consume a salt lamp

• DTF meaning

• Milf meaning

• Slang terms to use to sound normal

• Silly cat videos

• Why is piracy wrong

• Free movies watch online HD

• How to make protein shake taste like pasta

• Am I depressed quiz

• Spaghetti recipe

• How to put out kitchen fire

• How to remove spaghetti from ceiling

ZACK:

• Sephiroth bald

• can you die from licking batteries

• can you die from inhaling cheese puff dust

• Apple bottom jeans

• boots with the fur

• Reebok's with the straps

• Why does my husband look at other women

• Is it safe to eat pinecones

• Are moogles real

• How to befriend a moogle

• Can you die from licking hair gel

• What are the implications of string theory for quantum gravity in multidimensional spacetime

• Sephiroth x Genesis Rhapsodos fics

• How to explode things using mind

• Cool dog collar jewelry

• Cool dog collar jewelry SFW

• Sunflower tattoo

• Is it normal to kiss your friends

• How to kiss friends in a bromance way

• How to tell if I'm psychic

• Intersectional feminism

ANGEAL:

• Empanada recipe

• Where to hypothetically hide a body

• Tzatziki recipe

• Signs you're in a polycule

• Am I in a polycule how to tell

• Is it normal to plan your own funeral ahead of time

• Valid coupons printable

• Is it normal to vent to your houseplants about your problems

• Used dog cage for sale

• How to make friend realize that dreaming of blue alien mother isn't normal

• How to approach fact that friend needs therapy in conversation

• How to fix sword in case it ever breaks randomly

• Good gifts for teenagers with ADHD

• Chainsaw for sale

• Is a chainsaw a good gift

• Why am I so tired all the time

• Why is it that every time you search something online the internet makes you think you have an incurable disease

• Fun team building activities

• How to convince coworkers that trust falls are safe

• How to stop bleeding fast

• Encouraging words to calm down panicking crowd

• paramedic number

#I'm dying of shame and the Pichu charger is judging me so hard rn 😭#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #crisis core #zack fair #cloud strife

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mewmurdock · 5 months ago

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the gloaming; chapter 1

Pairing: Eudaemon!Matt Murdock x Mortal!Reader

The Gloaming Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who has stayed with me for the past year while I wrote pretty much nothing. I have a few updates for you:

I have graduated college with my Bachelor’s Degree in English Education for grades 7-12, and gotten NYS certified in that area.

I am working two jobs so I am super busy.

I am (unofficially, but basically) engaged 💍🌹

So that’s why I haven’t written much recently. But watching “Daredevil: Born Again” and the fantasy anime “The Ancient Magus’ Bride” has really inspired me. So that is why I have this new story for you. I hope you like it.

The first thing that you become aware of when you achieve consciousness is that you are cold, freezing. Your thin, white, ceremonial nightgown does not cover much, nor does it do a good job at warming you.

The next thing you are aware of is the feeling of sensation on your skin. Prickly things, painful things, crawly things — branches, pinecones, and bugs are all around you, as you seemingly lay in a forest clearing.

You do not have the energy to move any of your limbs or open your eyes. Your head and eyelids are heavy. You compare it to waking up after an operation, where the healers felt it necessary to give you a sleeping, numbing tonic.

Your fingers twitch. The sounds of night owls and crickets and cicadas surround you. The moonlight creates a white effect behind your eyelids.

I am not in my bed. I am not in my room.

Your thoughts come slowly.

I didn’t sleep.

If I didn’t go to sleep, I thought that maybe I wouldn’t be taken.

The witching hour. The gloaming.

The shadows grew and spread across the room, across me. I hid under the covers, trying not to breathe too loudly.

The sound was sucked out of the room. Even my heartbeat was silent.

A pair of invisible hands lifted me from my bed as easily as you’d lift a kitten.

I was weightless. Thought-less. I was nothing.

Now I am here.

You open your eyes ever so slowly, breathing low — swallowing and cringing at the lack of saliva in your mouth to soothe your dry throat — expecting to see the full moon and a purple black sky full of stars.

Instead, you are face to face with a monster.

In the shadows, the monster on top of you is not exactly visible. You can see silver dots where its eyes would be, a fanged set of teeth. You see horns, small black devilish horns protruding from a head of brown hair. Claws that protrude from his fingers and grasp at your chin.

And wings.

Sweeping, humongous black wings, like an angel’s. They make your monster look even more towering, large, predatory.

YOU ARE MINE, it says, in a voice that only vaguely resembles a human male’s.

Only his mouth does not move.

It is difficult to describe how you feel at this moment, but I will try. In an instant, your stomach drops through you. Tears spring to your eyes lightning fast. You feel faint, realizing that never in your life have you ever felt true Fear before, only what you thought was fear. No, this is true Fear, the kind of Fear that makes you lose your bowels and your bile, the Fear that, if you are standing, makes you crumble to the ground, wet yourself, and freeze in peril.

You know what you are supposed to say in this instant: O Guardian, Lover and Protector of my Form and Soul, I am yours for ever. Do with me what You wish, as I become your Apprentice to serve you always. You had practiced it for years, knowing that you would need to say it at some point.

You try to speak, but the noise gets caught in your throat. Your mouth betrays your mind, or vice versa. Your hands are shaking, grasping at the dirt below you in an attempt to keep yourself grounded.

“G-G-Guardian—?” you wheeze.

The monster blinks, sniffs the air. Its expression remains neutral. There’s an agonizing moment in which you know that it is thinking, deciding, what to do with you.

You can’t decide now, in your frightened, delirious state, to either be terrified that this being is your Guardian, or hopeful that your real Guardian is on His way to save you.

You try something, as best as you can. “If you… are m-my Guardian, you can’t hurt me.”

You know this to be true. The stories that your parents told you about Guardians said that they are beautiful, heroic creatures that hunger and thirst for righteousness, like angels. They were assigned to you before you existed, and so know you just as well as if not more than you know yourself. They are physically not able to hurt you, even if they want to.

Only this one is not exactly beautiful — in the traditional sense, anyway. You had never heard any rumors of devilish angels, monstrous Guardians, ones that immediately place Fear into your innermost soul and make you mute.

You wait, painstakingly, for an answer.

It speaks.

“I do not…” it starts, its mouth moving this time, in a more human voice, “... intend to hurt you, lady.” Its voice is soft but gravelly.

Confusion sets in. “You—”

“I apologize,” it says, getting off of you, “it caught me off guard. You didn’t recite your prayer.”

It — or, he — takes your hands in his before you can respond and hoists you upward to a standing position. Your limbs ache and your legs are weak. In this new position, you can see him more clearly:

He actually looks more… normal, than before, more human in appearance. His wings are — nowhere to be found… His teeth are less fanged, and his voice is less, dare you say eldritch than before. With the exception of his horns and silver eyes, he would look… almost like a regular person. But the Fear is still there, just enough for you to be cautious.

“So you are Him,” you say weakly. “My Guardian.”

“Yes, lady.”

He, without another word, walks with you to somewhere only he knows. He places an arm around you, holding your weak body upright. His hands are warm, firm, and they hold tight to you, keeping you close to him.

The two of you walk silently, with only the sounds of cicadas and owls greeting you.

“It’s not that far of a walk to my house,” he says. “We’ll get you cleaned up.”

A beat.

“You were scared,” he says. “Scared of me.”

“Yes.”

“I did not wish for that, but I couldn’t help it. This is the form that the Holy Giver burdened me with when He created me for you.”

“I was told that Guardians would be…” and then you stop, afraid that if you finished your thought, he would become offended.

“Comely? Me too,” he says curtly.

You stay silent, not wanting to say anything that would offend him. That train of thought leads in a different direction, one that has your head spinning.

You have heard legends about eldest daughters — they are not only taken from their homes to live in a Different Place with their Guardians, but they are also betrothed to them. In these tales, your Guardian, when He was created, was assigned to be your life partner, your husband, until the end of time. Normally, that would not be an issue. Some girls would even eagerly anticipate their twenty-first birthday, for they knew that they would be set up with a beautiful protector for a husband…

So what about you?

You could say that you were scared, maybe a little anxious. Mostly the former. You had caught your parents one night talking at the supper table about what presence they felt around you, growing more and more each year as if it were a reminder of your eventual destination — they said it was a scary, dark, almost evil presence that they couldn’t do anything about, nothing like the legends and tales of a kind, warm aura that they had ever heard.

You were doomed before you were even born.

“What do I call you?” you ask softly.

“Matthew,” he says. “My name is Matthew.”

“What does it mean?” All Guardians’ names have meaning, about their Purpose or Function.

“It means, ‘gift from God,’” Matt says sarcastically.

You say nothing to this. All you do is allow yourself to be led by him, this Matthew, to his house… your house. As you walk, the sky above you gets lighter, more light blue and orange than black. The sun rises and its rays penetrate the branches and leaves of the trees above you. It’s quite a lovely sight.

“Happy birthday,” Matthew says, and you cannot tell if he’s being sarcastic. The way you look at him — confused, bewildered — makes him grin. “I’m being serious. It’s your birthday. I still…” He pauses, his smile fading just a little. “I’m sorry.”

Five minutes go by without anything being said. As you walk, you look down at the weeds and flowers at your feet.

“Oh, here we are. My house.”

You look up.

It’s a small wood cottage made of wood and thatch, with a small garden for crops and flowers off to one side of the yard. The natural sunlight pours through the trees and makes the cottage look very cozy. It reminds you of the houses back home.

“It’s nice,” you say blankly, meaning what you say even if your tone would suggest otherwise.

“Shall we go in?” says Matthew. “You can change your clothes, have a good meal… I have rabbit meat I could cook?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Matt leads you into the cottage. “You’ll need to eat sometime. I’ll get it ready and leave it out for you whenever you want, okay?”

“Mm.”

Your limbs are heavy. Your mind is only consumed by thoughts of confusion and dread, and as the cottage door closes behind you, you cannot stop the shudder that goes down your back.

#the gloaming #daredevil #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #daredevil born again #matt murdock x reader smut #eudaemon!matt murdock x mortal!reader #fantasy AU

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miss3d-messages · 4 months ago

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why dont any of the yellowjackets in the teen timeline play soccer as a past time. yeah, sure, the soccer balls crashed and popped from the plane, but.... could they not have just. well. made their own??? if they didnt wanna make a whole new ball, just use a pinecone or something...... like in the things to do that they have, its clear its very few activties. so im just kinda wondering why the girls on the soccer team don't just play soccer. i know its mostly just because none of the actors know how to play, and the first scene of them actually playing soccer was hard to shoot for a number of reasons, but it still seems a little silly how all the girls are always either sitting around or doing chores but never playing soccer??? idk found it a bit weird

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets showtime #yellowjackets season 3 #yellowjackets s3 #yjs #yj show #yjs season 3 #yjs season 2 #yjs season 1

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the-crimson · 2 years ago

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Aight thoughts on todays bbh lore cuz we got A LOT. Just stay with me through my nerding about trees it’ll be worth it XD

We pretty much got 100% confirmation that he is intentionally hurting Baghera and Forever and that he thinks of himself as expendable. What fascinates me the most is when Bad asked Foolish this

“Is there anything wrong with burning the forest to save the trees?”

At first glance you might think YES if u burn the forest then there won’t be any trees??!! However it is a custom on fire risk zones to create controlled fires that burn up brush and dead trees so that the risk of a natural and far more devastating fire is reduced. Additionally, if a fungus infects a forest, burning the infected trees may be the only way to prevent the spread to the rest of the forest.

On top of that, there is a specific type of tree species that requires fires in order to reproduce. These are often Pine trees that drop pinecones. Pinecones hold seeds inside them that only germinate when immense heat is applied to them: the heat of a forest fire. When they are within these temperatures, the seeds germinate and the pine cones pop, scattering the seeds on the forest floor. These trees adapted to form a symbiotic relationship with fire one of if not the most destructive natural forces on the earth.

Do you know one of the trees that has developed this adaption? Redwoods.

Do you know which tree bbh brought up when giving Jaiden a PINECONE gift for her birthday today? A Redwood.

I’m like actually going insane. This can’t be a coincidence right????? I’m not going crazy right???

The whole reason I noticed this scene is because I live near the redwood forests in California and I know all about the way these trees depend on fires for their survival. It’s something that’s always fascinated me. That’s when I assume Bad was going to ask foolish the above question before Jaiden and Teana cut their conversation short while they were talking on the Titian . He literally had these specific trees on his mind when he was going to ask about burning down the forest.

Let me tell you another thing about Redwood trees. They are ancient. They are massive. They are sturdy. Natural fires are a common phenomenon here and a majority of the redwoods survive with barely a scratch, maybe an inch or two of its outer bark scorched. Nothing it won’t grow past in a year or two when these trees easily live for 500+ years.

(Side note, if there is one place in America you should visit it’s the redwood forests of California. It is literally like entering a portal to another world. These trees are 10-15 ft in diameter easily and you can just feel how ancient the forests are. It’s one of my all time favorite places to go)

So, in the situation Bad is proposing, burning the forest to save the trees, he is actively thinking about Redwoods in this hypothetical. Not only trees that are extremely resistant to fire but trees that depend on fire to survive. That completely changes the way he is approaching this question.

In his hypothetical, the forest will burn. The animals will die. The brush and non redwoods will turn to ash. The land will be scarred and the trees themselves may look dead, branchless and black. But. But. A season will pass and new branches will peel through the charcoal. Seeds deep in the soil will surge forth as the soil is fed nutrients from the ash. Animals will return. Pinecones will shed their fertilized seeds to give birth to a new generation of trees. And by next year, the forest will look just as vibrant as it had before the fire. Trees may bear the scars of the flames but life continues and it continues and it continues always.

I might actually be going crazy bbh makes me crazy cc!bbh makes me crazy I’m losing my mind

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astra-ravana · 11 months ago

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Interacting With The Fae

Basic Rules of the Fae

1. Every rule has its exception.

2. Everything has a cost.

3. Perception can be reality so always try to see truly.

4. Never give up what you can't afford to lose, including your name.

5. Look for the trap behind every word.

6. If it looks safe, it probably isn't.

7. Beauty is a poison that cannot be cured.

Signs the Fae are Nearby

• Soft, chiming bells

• A strong scent like grass, apples, and wild violets

• Strange, haunting, or jovial music

• Mysterious giggling or whispers with no clear source

• Mushroom, flower, or grass circles

• Large patches of four leaf clovers

• You are followed by a crow or raven

To See a Faerie

• Looking through a hagstone (seer stone)

• Wearing primrose

• Carry a four leaf clover

• Use fae oils or ointments

• Meditate in nature

• Averting your vision

• Don't blink for a time

• Wear your coat inside-out

• Looking through a rowan loop

• Looking through a fir knot hole

• Have good intentions

• Look backwards through your legs

• Sing, hum, or whistle

• Bring a gift or offering

• Dawn, dusk, midnight, and full moons are the best times to see them

Offerings to the Fae: Crystals, tea, sugary treats, syrup, bread and butter, honey, shiney objects, gems, berries, pinecones, jewelry, seashells, small toys, acorns, trinkets, cream, jellybeans, dice, pie, muffins, keys, beads, feathers, flowers, sunflower seeds, rice, fabric

(NEVER offer them anything made of iron)

Fae Classifications

The Seelie Court

The fae of light and ethereal brilliance, the divine, noble, and holy unto themselves. They are generally perceived as benign in nature, but are capable of unmatched levels of cunning and cruelty. They love to interact with human children and may attempt to spirit them away, leaving a changeling in their place.

The Seelie Code-

• Death before dishonor

• Love conquers all

• Beauty is life

• Never forget a debt

The Unseelie Court

The fae of shadow and predatory instinct, the infernal, nocturnal, and unholy- who may, at best, be amoral in action, are bound to very different laws than the Seelie and can cause harm at whim. Although, some may show preferences towards certain humans.

The Unseelie Code-

• Change is good

• Glamour is free

• Honor is a lie

• Passion before duty

Unaligned Fae

Nomadic fae, elemental spirits, house faeries, and more fall under this category. Their behavior is completely unique to the individual and experiences will be varied

Use Caution: The Fae are truly wild and like all elements of nature, deserve our respect, not our fear. They are an essential part of the physical and spiritual world and a pleasure to work with and witness as long as you keep your senses.

#satanic witch #satanism #withcraft #demons #magick #witch #demonolatry #lefthandpath #dark #witchcraft #eclectic witch #faerie #fae #elemental

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ghostofhyuck · 1 year ago

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𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀. ✧₊⁺

Ghost! Mark Lee x Tourist! Reader

Summary: The North city is eerie, believed to be haunted, and yet, it’s flocked with tourists. You found yourself alone in the midst of the busy city — or perhaps not. Especially when you met Mark Lee who gave you more than what you need.

Word count: 3.7k

TW: contains suicide and death. Read at your own risk.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Now, up next is the Northwest Plaza Hotel. It was built during the 1920s, a prestigious hotel that hosted parties and was patronized by our presidents. It was destroyed during the war and while there were attempts to restore the hotel, some guests didn’t have a pleasant stay due to the paranormal experiences they felt.”

You watched as the flock of tourists entered the abandoned hotel. You can hear the blaring echo coming from the guide’s megaphone, still giving information about the hotel. You entered the lobby area and you couldn’t help but feel goosebumps around your neck. As if someone’s watching you.

“There are only a few areas where we are allowed, so please do not stray further. There’s an entrance on the left side where the garden is located, you may go there to take pictures too.” she added.

That was your cue, you separated from the group and entered the garden. You found yourself surprised by how well-maintained the garden is. The grass is green as if it’s being watered daily, pinecone trees stood tall, covering you from the heat of the sun even though the weather’s always cold in the North, and small stray flowers field some areas. There were a few benches around, so you decided to sit on the nearest that you can find and just let the ambiance relax you for a moment.

It was an impulsive decision of yours to run away from your home and take a one week vacation in the North. You couldn’t help it. Everything is overwhelming you and somehow, you don’t know where you feel safe anymore. You went to the bus terminal and chose the nearest bus to arrive — which is the bus going north.

You knew about the North city. Not only is it famous for its cold weather and peaceful ambiance, it is also believed to be one of the most haunted cities in your country. You don't believe in the supernatural, that’s why there’s nothing for you to be scared about the North city. You’ve been here for a day and so far, there’s nothing eerie that happened to you.

“You seem to be thinking deeply —” you let out a startled scream when a voice disturbed your thoughts.

You turned around and saw a guy, who’s about your age. He’s wearing long white sleeves and a checkered cotton vest. You found his outfit a bit out of date but there’s a small smile on his lips.

“Are you the type of person who just approaches people and talks to them?” you asked with a rude tone.

He shrugs, “I’m just curious about what's bugging your mind.”

You know guys and their attempts at flirting. His may be old-fashioned but it’s not going to work on you.

“Why would you care —-”

“You know what they say to the people who go to the North alone? They’re either depressed, heartbroken, or in need of healing. I wonder which one you are.”

You were surprised by what he said. You found yourself staring at him who only gives you a small smile.

“What do you think?” you asked instead, not even wondering why the question slipped out of your mouth.

He tilts his head as if he was scanning you. You found yourself locked onto his bright eyes, his soft smile still painted there. You can feel your ears heating up. For a stranger, he surely is good-looking.

“You want to run away don’t you?”

You felt your heart skip a beat. How is that, he was able to read you?

“So I guess I’m right?”

You were about to say something when someone tapped your shoulder. You turned around and saw that it was the guide, she only looked at you with a worried smile on her face.

“Don’t stray too far, remember?” she told you, and before you could say anything, she’s pulling you back inside. You glanced once again at the stranger but you found nothing but the empty garden.

“We don’t want our tourists to be haunted by wandering spirits,” she gives you a wink and with that, she goes back in front where the other tourists are. You were surprised with her action but at the same time, it piqued your curiosity. What did she mean by that?

As you tour around more to the upper floors of the hotel, you couldn’t help but to be more curious about your encounter at the garden. As you attempt to take a peak from the windows, there’s nothing but the pinecone leaves covering your view.

You left the hotel without your questions being answered. The tour bus dropped you at the city’s center where your hotel is located. It was six pm. The night is slowly creeping and the streets are becoming more busy. You could only let out a sigh. You couldn’t help but to be curious about the stranger earlier. You found his presence mysterious and intriguing. You wanted to know how he was able to read you, and who he is after all.

So with your mind fogged with all the thoughts, you hailed a taxi, convincing the driver to take you back to the Northwest Plaza Hotel.

Upon arriving, you felt the ghostly presence of the hotel. It stood broadly against the gleaming moon of the night. But you braved yourself to enter the area with your phone’s flashlight to serve as a light. There were no guards around the area, which you found odd. As soon as you entered the lobby, it was merely pitch black, much colder than it was before.

You gulped, braving yourself into the entrance of the garden. And as soon as you reached the same bench, you stopped when you saw him again. Near the trees, holding a guitar as he tries to pick on a few chords.

“Hello?” you called out. He lifted up his head and his eyes went wide when he saw you. You watched him lay down his guitar, stand up, and walk to you. You couldn’t help but to take a step back, wondering why the place became more cold than before.

“You came back,” he said.

“I was curious,” you answered honestly. “How did you know?”

“You look lonely. The moment you stepped into the hotel, you didn't want to be with the tourists, isn’t that why you went here?”

“You were staring at me the moment I entered the hotel?” you raised an eyebrow.

But he only crosses his arms, “well, you did catch my attention.”

A faint blush formed on your cheeks, you looked away from him, flustered with his words.

“Is that why you returned here?” he asked. “Only crazy people would go here alone.”

“Then you must be crazy,” you said. “And yes that is the reason, and now that I know the answer. It was nice meeting you stranger.”

“You can call me Mark,” he proposed, offering a hand.

You couldn’t help but to shake his hand, a goosebump forming on your nape as you felt his iced-like hands. “Nice meeting you Mark, this might be the last time we see each other, but my name’s y/n.”

“I hope this won’t be,” Mark teases, eyes locked on you as he gently shakes your hand.

True to his words, it wasn’t the last time you saw Mark. The next day, you encountered him once again. You found out that there’s a much secluded park outskirts of the city center. That’s why instead of opting for the tourist-filled park, you venture out to check if it was really secluded.

You understood why, the place has an eerie atmosphere around it. There’s nothing but narrow walkways and hills where pinecone trees are planted. It looks empty and lifeless. No wonder no one goes there. But it fits you and your want for isolation, so you decided to walk further in the area until you noticed a figure from afar.

“I didn’t know that you’re here!” he said with a tone so bright, it was as if he was happy to see you. You were a bit taken back but you only gave him a small smile.

“How did you even know this park?” you asked, deciding to just befriend him. You sat beside him who only lightly chuckled.

“This is my favorite place in the city,” Mark said, looking at the view. “It’s quiet and peaceful, plus it’s clean. You’re surrounded by mother nature unlike the parks in the city, it’s always filled with people.”

You only nod, “I get you.”

“Is that why you’re here? Because you want to feel lonely? Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I did say I want to feel lonely, but,” you only glanced at him. He was looking at you with curiosity. “I don’t mind having someone too.”

You saw how Mark’s smile formed into a small smile. “Well, I’ll be happy to accompany you while you’re here.”

It felt easy having Mark around. He’s not that weird guy that you first met. There you thought, maybe befriending a stranger wouldn’t be that bad at all.

At first it was merely companionship. He was a gentleman. His tone was soft and he looked out for you. You notice it by the way he pulls you to the safer side of the walkway or whenever you two are in a crowded place, he holds your hand so you wouldn’t separate from him. It’s also how he makes you smile and laugh without you knowing about it. Being with him made you forget all the worries that you left in your town.

Your heart was heavy when you went to the North. You shared it with Mark one night at the abandoned hotel. You two went further upstairs where the rooftop of the hotel overlooks the whole city. The stars scattered at the sky with the moon accompanying you two. There, Mark quietly listened to your story, even wiping off the tears from your face.

Your family was a disaster. After your father died, your mother remarried and had a son. Your step-father was nice to you, albeit strict since you’re still young. But it still leaves a bitter taste on you that your mother quickly moved-on from your father’s death. You rebelled and found yourself in the wrong group of friends. Worse, you found out that your boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend.

Feeling like everyone is against you, you decided to leave your hometown. Feeling suffocated and alone in the world, you took the first bus that’s departing and that’s how you got yourself in your situation right now.

You swore to yourself that it’ll be just a few days, but days turned into weeks and no one seems to care that you’re gone. No one, not even your family even bothered looking for you.

“Sorry for sulking down the mood,” you chuckled. Trying to hold on to the tears that’s still flowing.

“What? I don’t care about that!” Mark said. “I care about you! You’re strong yn, and if I could, I wanted to show you that you’re not alone.”

You laughed at his sudden declaration. “Stop saying stupid things Mark.”

“Really, I swear to you,” Mark swore. “I wanted to show you that you deserve everything in this world, and that there are people who can care for you.”

“Really?” you mocked. “Who then?” Silence. That was Mark’s answer. You don’t know what to feel about it. You two stared at each other, when slowly, realization hit you.

“You’re not joking aren’t you?” you asked, appalled.

“Why would I joke about that?” he asked. “I like you yn.”

“But we just met for like a few days ago,” you pointed out.

“Just trusting my gut feeling,” he shrugs. “When I first saw you, I just wanted to give you a hug, I’m not kidding. You just feel like you’re going through a lot and I want to be that person that will give you strength.”

You became quiet because of his confession. Your heart starts beating fast and you can feel your cheeks flushed. Is this what it feels like to be loved by a person? You didn’t notice how another tear streamed down your eyes. You were speechless, dumbfounded at how Mark is staring at you with a gaze that’s so soft that you barely recalled when was the last time someone looked at you like that.

Mark followed his guts right? Maybe you should too.

You slowly leaned onto him until you felt his lips. Cold as always but you were hoping that you would give him warmth and love, just like what he told you. You were willing to reciprocate his feelings even if it means being with him in a short amount of time — or not, your mind went hazy. Thinking that you can just settle here in the North and be with Mark forever. The only person who could give you the love that you’ve been longing for.

Mark responds to your kiss. Soft and gentle just like how he has always been. His hands trailing to your jaw and although you felt goosebumps on your nape due to his cold hands, you ignored it nevertheless. You never felt more alive with Mark by your side. Slowly, he trails his hands on the hem of your shirt and as you two broke the kiss, he was staring at you, waiting for your signal.

You gave in. That night was filled with nothing but love and yearning. There was nothing but bliss and love as Mark showed you how much he cared for you.

After that night, you stuck around with Mark. Happy and content with the new found love in the North. You two would go around, have dates and be in love endearingly in the city. You noticed that there are a lot of people looking at you two but you ignored it nevertheless. Maybe you two are a bit affectionate in public, but you couldn’t care about it.

You found yourself in a garage sale a few days later. You are fond of garage sales, especially antique trinkets and jewelries. The sale can be found in a huge mansion that was once owned by a politician during the 90s.

You looked at the jewelries, different rings adorned with gemstones that haven’t faded yet. You could only smile as you tried to locate its price when a small notebook caught your attention.

You opened it and noticed that’s written already. It looks like someone’s diary. You open a few pages, admiring the owner’s penmanship and how they collected trinkets and stickers. And as you scroll through it, a piece of paper falls from it.

As you picked up the paper from the ground, you were frozen to see that it wasn’t just a paper, it was a picture of a couple.

There, they stood beside each other. The background being familiar — the secluded park that you once went to. The girl was short, she had her hair tied to a high ponytail as she rocks a windbreaker jacket and tank top. While the guy has his hands wrapped around him. He was smiling ear to ear and despite the picture’s color faded, you knew that face. You’re very much familiar with that face.

You couldn’t help but to be nailed in where you are standing. You don’t know what to feel but your hands are shaking.

“Hey —” you were surprised when it was snatched away from you. By a lady who’s in her forties, she also stared at the notebook that you were holding, making you return it to her.

“I’m sorry but these are not for sale,” she said with an apologetic tone, you only nod but something struck you.

“I know but can I ask,” you said. “Are you the girl in the picture? Who’s the guy?”

“He’s my ex-boyfriend,” she said casually. You watched as she placed the picture in between the pages.

“Is his name Mark Lee perhaps?” you asked.

Her eyes widened. That’s when you started to feel more nervous.

“How did you know him?” she asked.

That’s when you decided to grab your phone and open your gallery to show her. Pictures of you and Mark together.

“These are all blurred dear,” she said as she looked at the photos. “It won’t make sense too, Mark’s been dead for almost twenty years now.”

It was as if cold water fell on you when you heard her words. You stood there frozen. Her stare at you was built with confusion, but as she noticed the shocked expression on your face, her eyes widened.

“When did this start?” she asked.

You grew confused with the tone of her voice, it was as if she’s nervous about your answer.

“A few weeks ago,” you answered.

“Oh no dear, you need to stay away from him,” she warned. “Mark…he’s not who you think he is. For a moment you thought he was sweet and kind, but the more his love got deeper, it’ll turn into an obsession. He will not let anything hinder his love for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He's been dead for years! His ghost will not be in peace until he finds someone who can love forever.” she said. “Don’t meet up with him anymore. But he will keep on showing up wherever you are, that’s how obsessed he is. So avoid him as much as possible, even if it means leaving this city.”

Her words stuck to you even when you returned to your hotel room. You felt stupid. Falling in love with a ghost? It sounds so absurd.

There were signs, but you were completely oblivious about it. Like how Mark has always been cold or there’s an aura around him that you couldn’t explain. You wouldn’t really suspect him as a ghost either. He looks like a normal human being.

Or so you thought. Maybe that’s why people are staring at you too. Because they knew that the guy you’re with isn't human at all.

You let out a frustrated groan as you decided to take the matter in your own hands. You left your hotel room and stormed out of the night.

It was a rainy night, past midnight and the North seems to be empty at this hour. You ignored the way the night became colder than usual. The eerie silence of the road didn’t budge you as you found yourself returning to the abandoned hotel.

As you step inside, you notice how empty it is. It felt weird, Mark’s not here.

“Mark?” you shouted, echoing through the void. You called him once again but only the empty hallways responded to you.

You went to the garden, calling his name once again but Mark wasn’t there. So you went up to the rooftop, hoping that Mark’s there.

The rain becomes a heavy downpour as you reach the rooftop. You didn’t mind that you’re sopping wet because you’ve come face to face with the guy that you’ve looking for.

“Mark,” you mumbled.

“So you found out,” he said instead, letting out a bitter chuckle.

You ignored his words. I guess his ex-lover’s words were true, he does follow you everywhere.

“Just be honest with me Mark,” you said, taking a step closer to him. “Is it true?”

“Why does it matter if it's true or not?” Mark asked instead, his tone rising a bit higher. “So what if I am a ghost? Does it matter?”

“It matters because you’re dead!” you shouted. “You’re dead Mark! You’re nothing but a spirit lurking around this city.”

“What’s with the sudden change of heart? Everything doesn't matter anymore just because I’m dead? Have you forgotten that I’m the only one who cared for you?”

You didn’t answer. Mark’s eyes were filled with anger, he turns around and just lets you be there.

“Just so you know, it didn’t matter to me if you’re alive or not. I love you regardless, that’s why it hurts that everything shifted just because of something so simple,” he lets out a sigh.

“It’s not that simple, Mark. You’re dead, while I’m not. We can’t be together.”

“And what? Return to your place? Back to your miserable life when you were here with me, you’ve always at your happiest. Are you willing to throw everything away again?”

Small warm tears are falling from your eyes. You couldn’t rebut him anymore knowing that he’s right.

“I’m the only one who loves you yn, why can’t you see it? I tried my best to make you smile and happy. That’s why I hid the fact that I’m dead. I just want you to be happy and not cry anymore,” there, he gently weeps off the tears from your face. His cold hands make contact with your face and yet, you can feel the warm gesture of it.

“Mark, I don't know what to do,” you said, breaking out in tears. You felt his arms wrapping around your shoulder, hushing you slowly as you leaned on his chest.

“It’s okay yn, I’m here. I will never let you be sad anymore,” he promised. You lift up your face and as you face Mark, he only gives you a smile as he brushes your hair.

“Mark —”

“Just promise me that you’ll trust me in this one okay?” he asked, sealing you with a kiss.

“Mark, what are you going to do?” you asked, heart beating fast.

“I just want your answer yn, do you trust me?” he asked once again.

“I —” you found your words stuck in your throat.

There you two. On top of the hotel rooftop. The rain slowly deafens everything.

But Mark’s arms never left yours. He’s just there, staring at you. Waiting for your answer.

“I trust you Mark,” you breathed. “Just take my pain away.”

“Of course,” he assures you. Leaning on to give you another kiss. “I will make you happy and will love you for eternity.”

Slowly, Mark takes a step back. One by one you two slowly walked. All you can see is Mark who’s gazing at you lovingly until you take another step but your eyes widen at your feet and feel nothing but the air.

“See you on the other side yn,” Mark bids before pulling you towards him. And with that, you felt yourself heavy as you fell to your own death.

#nct dream #nct imagines #nct dream fic #nct fic #nct #nct x reader #nct mark #mark lee #nct mark fic

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marlinbluezzz · 7 months ago

Text

*cracks knuckles*

Here’s some food eat up guys 🍽️🍽️

I’m really tired but also really bored and I need to solve the boredom before I go to sleep 💪

soooooo have some quick little stories I guess :3 they’re just short kinda.

Martin seems like the kind of guy who’d like having his hair touched, brushed or played with but he’s NOT gonna tell anyone. He’s giving me dog vibes idk why. Like. Golden retriever.

ALSO THESE ARE THE FIRST FANFICS IVE WRITTEN IN LITERAL YEARS IM SORRY THEYRE SO TRASH!!!

Also sorry for any typos this is a new device and it hasn’t gotten used to me using certain words yet :/

1: Leaves (Maviva ish)

Chris and Martin stepped into the tortuga, still laughing wildly from a situation that had happened almost 15 minutes ago, where Martin had found a pinecone, and it lead into an all out pinecone throwing battle. Their faces were covered in slight scratches and red marks, and Martin had leaves in his hair, but he didn’t seem to mind.

the two were still in their squirrel power suits as the entrance to the tortuga shut behind them, and they dusted themselves off.

“de- deactivate!” Chris's words were broken up by chuckles.

“There you boys are,” Aviva said, approaching them with a wrench in hand. “You two are going to clean that mess up later- not me, not koki, and not Jimmy!”

“Sorry, Aviva!” Chris exclaimed almost jokingly, plucking a burr off of his power vest. “There you go,” he said almost silently as he threw it to the floor. Martin and Aviva shared a look as Chris trotted away to put his belongings down.

“You guys are so messy sometimes,” said Aviva, her voice a little quieter, directing her full attention to Martin. A goofy smile made its way to his face.

“it’s mostly Chris,” he said innocently. She roller her eyes.

Martin deactivated his suit, slipping the disc into the pocket of his shorts. “MK’s always got his life together! See?”

Aviva huffed. “Sure he does.”

the two locked eyes for a moment, Aviva's teasing smile fading into soft concern. Martin tried to ignore the butterflies starting to flutter in his stomach.

“you have so many leaf fragments in your hair, Martin!” She began to laugh lightly. “It looks like a bird tried to build a nest in there!”

Martin sighed, and vigorously shook his head like some kind of dog. He probably rattled his brain around. “I’ll wash my hair tonight.” He began to walk past her, but she caught him by his sleeve, causing him to stumble slightly. “No, Martin, you need to get that out now.” Her tone was stern, but soft in its own kind of way. A light blush rose to Martins cheeks as she grabbed his sleeve, and koki muttered something to Jimmy on the other side of the room.

Aviva lead him to Jimmy’s unoccupied chair- a rare site indeed. He was currently sitting beside koki on the floor eating a sandwich. Typical Jimmy.

“this is the tortuga, not a salon!” Martin was laughing, but it was only to suffocate the nervousness welling up in him as Aviva stood in front of him, examining the condition of his hair. He hated prolonged eye contact, but he couldn’t take his eyes away from hers. He hated that he got like this sometimes- Aviva was his friend. He couldn't…

he wanted to flick himself because of his thought process.

“Ok, hold still, MK.” Aviva began to gently remove the leaf fragments from his hair, and he tried not to lean into the light tingle of her hands in his hair, but to no avail. He allowed his eyes to shut, accompanied by an even goofier smile than before. Hopefully, she didn’t notice it, but with the way Jimmy and Koki were probably seeing him, it was obvious.

after about a minute, Aviva was done with him, ruffling his hair back into its natural position.

“I’m still gonna wash my hair. It’s been a while,” he giggled, wanting to see Aviva's reaction to that unnecessary information.

“Ew! Nasty kratt!” She teased, walking back over to where she was tinkering with the miniaturizer.

Their interaction faded at that point as Martin went off to find Chris wherever he had skedaddled off to in the tortuga- but he knew that while the interaction was insignificant to Aviva, it would linger in his mind for weeks to come.

////

wooo that was ass. Time to ruin two more of my favorite characters. Hopefully I’m better at writing Zach than I am Martin

2: wolf fur coat. (Zanita kind of tee hee…)

“So what do I have to do with this?” Zach hissed, crossing his arms. He felt like this entire day had been a waste, and he was so tempted to get his zachbot that was waiting outside to take him back to the jet already.

Donita had called him over about a possible offer, a mutually beneficial deal. But she had spent the entire time talking about possible new fashion items to sell and display- nothing that would interest Zach.

“Zach, darling, I’m getting there,” she said as she showed him more sketches of animal “inspired” outfits, some of the most set designs Zach had ever seen. Sometimes he could barely put up wit( the others, but he had to admit that Donita had a great mind. Especially with the crappy doodle of gourmand in a poodle themed dress in the corner.

”Well, get there! I don’t have forever, you know. I am a busy man!”

“Busy doing what, Zach? Stalking the kratts? Zachary, dear, wouldn’t you like a little more publicity? Some… promotion?”

Zach was now slightly intrigued, dropping his sharp tone by a little out of curiosity. “What kind of publicity and promotion are we talking about?

Donita chuckled darkly, flipping to the next sketch in her book. It was a loose drawing of Zach himself, sporting a lavish fur coat over his usual black turtleneck, accompanied by pants that matched the shade of a color in the coats pattern, and black boots. Zach raised his eyebrows as he studied it, but then started to become a little outraged.

��You-“ he stumbled over his words, not sure whether to be offended by the fact that she believed he would wear such an outfit, or flattered by the fact she would use him as a subject.

“I would like for you to model this outfit for me in my next line,” she purred, closing her sketchbook.

she fluidly reached out to him, grabbing the sides of the neck of his sweater, tugging lightly, but hard enough to get him slightly flustered. “You would look awfully dashing in a wolf fur coat.”

Zach sighed, dropping his defensive attitude at the compliment, but not letting her know that it had any effect on him. “We'll see, Donita. But I’m an inventor, not a dress up… princess… varmit wearer!” His voice held no malice, somehow.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “We WILL see… see you in that fur coat, that is.”

Zach rolled his eyes.

“Well, would 2 million dollars be enough to lure you in? You seem to forget I’m just as clever as you when it comes to business.”

Zach’s eyes widened, a smile creeping to his face. He then lowered to a smirk as he prepared to speak, eyes narrowing.

“We might have ourselves a deal, Donita Donata.”

///

ok that one wasn’t really THAT shipyard but boy do I like writing those two… (that’s the first time I’ve ever done that)

but yeah I hope that these aren’t too bad and that someone out there likes them! :) I spent way longer on that than I wanted to lol. I wish the Zach and Donita one had been more shippy but it’s SO LATE AUGH

#Zanita #maviva #martin kratt #martin wild kratts #chris wild kratts #wild kratts zach #wild kratts fanfiction #wild kratts #aviva corcovado #chris kratt #zach varmitech #donita donata #Donita wild kratts #This is SHIT #TRASH I TELL YOU #TRASH

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