#It was killing me being away from the iPad for so long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

belit0 · 11 months

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Hii!! First of all, how are you? And how do you feel? I first wanted to thank you for doing such a beautiful blog. You truly have a talent to write and you write so well. I am always looking forward for any new posts of yours, i just love your blog so so much!!!!<333 I’m sorry i am so obsessed with your blog and how you write the Uchiha man so fine ans well. Can you maybe write about how Madara gets into an argument with his wife and it comes to the point where he hits her, (slapping or punching her because of his anger) he hits her so hard it causes a bruise on her skin. And how he will try to make it up for her and how he will react to it? Love you and your blog! 🩷

Helloooooo!! I just bought my first iPad ever, so I'm really happy about it!!! In my country, it is very difficult to get cases and accessories, so currently fighting for them🤣🙌🏻. I really appreciate your words and your presence, it genuinely makes me very happy to know people enjoy what I do and like my content.

Nothing to apologize for, I love that you obsess, and having someone to share my own Uchiha fixation with!!

With this request, I am revealing one of my biggest HCS about the Uchiha brothers: a violent authority figure, and all the traumas that come with it.

He is not proud, not at all. When his hand connects with her face it feels exactly like the first time his mother hit him.

(Y/N) falls to the ground from the force of the impact, and looks at him in disbelief. Her eyes are so wide they seem about to explode, and she holds the area where Madara struck her as a silent tear slides over her fingers. The woman seems unable to move, paralyzed, and the Uchiha feels life stop for a second.

Never in his life did he think of becoming what he hated so much, of adopting the same actions from the figure who took it upon herself to make his life a living hell as a child. Madara grew up traumatized by his mother's hands, the violence she imparted both verbally and physically, and tried to channel it all on him to protect his siblings.

When she finally passed away, he was left with lifelong scars, both bodily and psychologically, which he decided would help him to never become the horrible human being she was. For many years, he conducted his anger through war, the battlefield, and the death he carried on his hands every day.

With the new stage of peace, that ordeal was over, and so was his source of personal liberation. Sure, training with the Senju or his brother always brought significant physical relaxation, but no longer being able to attack with the intent to kill made the practice sessions seem like a joke.

Frustrated by his inability to release without killing, Madara lost that one important outlet for his anger, for venting his rage, and began to progressively accumulate it. Between dealing with a new village, his younger brother and the entire clan still reluctant to accept peace with the enemy, and leading an entire family, it didn't take long for him to explode in the worst possible way, and evoke all his childhood memories at once.

His body moved on its own, without him even analyzing what he was about to do, and (Y/N) had no time to react.

They were arguing over genuine stupidity, the Uchiha not having washed the dishes he used for breakfast that morning because he had to rush off to a meeting, and his wife having to take care of it for him. (Y/N) had made it clear from the beginning of their relationship that she would not submit to being a housewife, to living for and by her husband, and that she would maintain her independence despite having Madara by her side.

How little tolerance she had for the one time he left something behind, only because he was in a hurry, got on his nerves, and he exploded thanks to all the accumulated problems he was carrying on his back. His open hand connected with (Y/N)'s cheek before he could figure out exactly what he was doing, and sent her straight to the ground with the force of the collision.

As he stared at his wife on the floor, he could only see himself as a child, tiny in the face of his batterer, small with no options and no way out. Circumstances managed to bring out the worst in him, what he thought he had overcome, and he had no tools to face such a scenario. He never believed he had any aspect of his mother in him, he promised himself never to be like her, and he had failed.

He felt dirty.

The Uchiha is speechless when seeing how his wife gets up and runs away, terrified by the cruel action of her man, and takes refuge in her brother-in-law's house. Madara can only listen, from the same place where he stood frozen after hitting her, as (Y/N) lunges against Izuna's front door, demanding between screams and tears to let her in.

Seconds later, and with a sepulchral silence in the air, the Uchiha senses how his younger brother walks into his home, a small and incredulous voice asking "What the fuck did you do, Madara?"

It has been years since he last cried, back when he thought he was about to lose the only immediate family he had left, that time when he held his Otouto close in his arms and prayed to the heavens and all their gods to let him live on.

Today, Madara surrenders to the ground again, falling to his knees and indulging in his anguish, reliving traumatic events in his mind like a movie he cannot pause. He has no words to explain, nor does he know what to say, and all he can do is allow the uncontrollable flow of his tears.

Izuna, perplexed, falls to the ground beside him, hugging him and knowing no questions need to be asked.

He himself was a victim of his mother, and his older brother protected him at every turn, taking all the beatings and holding back tears to look brave in front of his siblings. The younger Uchiha knows what this is all about, and he knows better than to say anything.

Engrossed in his journey into the past, he knows there is no way to help him at this point, and Izuna retreats without further ado.

Madara, on the other hand, lasts in the same position all night, completely blocked by his emotions and unable to regain control over his body. He has been subjected to all kinds of tortures, faced the greatest warriors, and dealt with unimaginable powers on the battlefield, but nothing compares to this.

The next day, he can do nothing but disappear from the face of the earth, isolate himself in the old Uchiha compound, lose track of time in his family's abandoned territory, and continue to punish himself for what he did. He returns home, to the house where he grew up amidst punishment and abuse, and walks through each room, mentally seeing the image of his mother above him, harshly beating him.

He will stay there as long as he thinks necessary, without eating, without drinking water, tormenting himself until he thinks he has purged all his ills.

#madara uchiha x reader #uchiha madara x reader #madara x reader #uchiha madara #madara uchiha #madara #izuna uchiha #uchiha izuna #izuna #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto #uchiha clan #naruto x reader

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forbidden-ideas · 4 months

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Sure

F!y/n x girl(?), GL smut, practice draft so bear with it. Cunnilingus, reader giving, dom!reader, praising, reader is mean otherwise.

18+, GL, GxG

_____

You were famous for two reasons that people were afraid to mention.

You had always been known for being a mafia child. People were afraid to even mention your last name.

You weren’t exactly a 'mafia child' but you came from a family with deep connections and a long history of martial arts— the fact that half the country's business owners knew your father's company— it was security business.

Your family was like a mafia family except the fact that it was legal business.

Nobody knew the whole story but there were too many rumours and whispers when you started college.

You chose a silent life in highschool but were forced to go above and beyond after being a target for the school bullies— it was a minor crack in the wrist and they made it a big deal.

You sighed when a girl that sat beside you gasped after realising who you were.

She immediately changed places and went to sit in the farthest possible place.

You didn't know what was so intimidating about you.

The second reason people talked about you, however—

"Excuse me," A cutesy girl spoke, "May I?" She was talking about the seat next to you.

You two looked like opposite poles of the same world.

You seemed like an alien next to the white shirt, black skirt, and a black long coat with your black pants, a grey checkered shirt, and an odd leather jacket.

"Sure," You spoke nonchalantly.

She put down her expensive-looking coffee order on the desk and took out her iPad to take down some notes.

You noticed her baby pink headset around her neck that somehow went well with her outfit— like a signature piece.

The class went by as usual with you barely paying attention to anything and finally taking pictures of the board and leaving with your bag and taking out your earphones.

"Excuse me!" The girl from earlier rushed behind you, "Are you free right now?"

"Why?" You aked, plugging the cord of the wired earphones in your phone.

"I wanted to have a coffee with you!" She seemed excited.

"I'm sorry, I don't drink coffee," You started walking away, "Or tea." You said from a distance.

_____

The girl was persistent it seemed.

She sat next to you again and this time asked if you liked ice cream.

You weren't sure why you agreed but you were sure it was a reluctant 'yes'.

_____

"You said it was an ice cream date," you stared at her— skirt raised, panties gone, "And we're in your room now."

She tried to muffle a moan when you dived between her folds.

One of her hands in your hair, tugging lightly and the other gripping the bedsheets for her her dear life.

She gasped when you started using your fingers to stimulate her clit instead, "Y-Y/n wait— w-wait!" She supported herself up and tapped at your shoulder.

You moved away worried and sat up straight to see if she was okay only to see her hiding her face behind her hands.

"Was it overwhelming? Are you okay?" You asked.

"It's— It is my first— I've never—" she sighed, her chest heaving from the previous activity.

You felt something shift in you, "Do you know what they talk about me?" You asked while getting on top of her.

She slowly lay herself back, "You're from the mafia and that... you almost killed someone when you were having sex..."

"Both are false," you kissed her earlobe lightly, "Martial arts, not mafia and he wasn't 'almost' killed— he died."

She shuddered.

"It wasn't him I was having sex with— he tried to interrupt us." You smirked against her skin, "You got to be a good girl, now. Okay, darling?" You asked again.

She whined softly at the sudden old-fashioned nickname.

"Please," she whispered.

"Tell me if it's uncomfortable," you mumbled.

You made sure to go slow this time, keeping in mind to be gentle and that to make it a memorable first.

"Say princess," You looked down and unbuttoned your shirt, thowing it away, "Aren't you uncomfortable in all those clothes?"

She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped out of her skirt with a little help from you.

"Smart and beautiful, such a classic." You took the liberty to take off her bra.

You slowly and deeply kissing her while fondling with her breast made her go crazy.

There was not much you were letting her do when you had put most of your weight on her and were devouring her like no tomorrow.

You slowly went down kissing along her jawline and finally to her already hard nipples.

"Do you mind a hickey?" You asked in a whisper.

She shook her head to refuse.

"Words darling, words." You chuckled kissing the valley between her breasts.

"N-no," she breathed out.

You immediately started on a mark above her chest and she moaned.

You started going further down to tend to her needs. She kept squirming so you put a hand across her pelvis to keep her down.

You take a quick lick at her wetness and hum, "So wet darling? Do you want me to take care of it for you?"

"Yes— please—" she pleaded.

"Good girls get rewards."

You started lapping at her wetness, ravaging her. It was as if you were hungry for ages.

She moaned when your nose rubbed againt her clit.

You kept going until she became louder and louder, then finally tugging at your hair particularly harder than before and breaking down into throes of pleasure.

Her face was contoured with pleasure and it swelled your pride.

"I don't think I should be here any longer," You tried to get up but she pulled you back to her core.

"Again," she panted, still not completely back from her high.

"Sure thing, darling," you laughed.

_____

#gl smut #gxg smut #my writing #writing #short stuff #practice #scene #gl #gxg #gxg imagine

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lildoodlenoodle · 11 months

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First things first(spoilers for spiderverse/spidergeddon and comic noir storyline) this is a long post but you’ll have fun I promise. As always feel free to engage with the post, I’d love to hear different theories/opinions/conclusions on this in the tags or comments. Sorry it took so long!

Now I’m gonna say something morbid:

Spider Noir’s death in the comics was hilarious

Jarring, but hilarious. Like why’d he grab him like that. I physically had to shut off my iPad and go for a walk after this scene when I first read it.

But to my point, you know how some people say your birth mark is how you died in your last life?

Well post resurrection we might have A, B, and C:

(Now before anyone gets on me for, why would you do that/even think of this? In my defense, I couldn’t remember where he was grabbed, it’s been a while since I’ve read these. I thought it was gonna be on his back or shoulder and I’d give him a burned on handprint going all ‘gripped you tight and raised from perdition’ which is cool, fun, sexy, and conveniently hidden. Then I reread it and it’s basically a permanent face palm. Also pretend his face looks the same in every one. Couldn’t decide on hair either lol.)

Either way post resurrection Peter should have physical after effects of his resurrection. Either lines all over his body from having the life force sucked out of him or birth/burn marks on his face. I think this would be hilarious, angsty, and interesting. I also hate when people are just resurrected willynilly. LET THE TRAUMA OF DYING AND COMING BACK TAKE ITS TOLE. Especially if it’s multiple times.

In MK: Midnight Mission they, pretty recently, came up against this problem with the MK system being resurrected over and over again and facing really no visible consequences. But then we find out, there isn’t really a limit(ignoring the whole Khonshu imprisonment), but eventually mentally, there will be nothing left to resurrect. And the mindless mummy warrior creatures we meet from Khonshu’s ‘world’ were old avatars that wasted away from resurrections. It explains the alterations and perversions of the MK system’s mental conditions, because they are actively being altered and changed, to be brought back, by a multidimensional creature that doesn’t care about their mental health/state(that Khonshu takes advantage of, knowing what he’s doing). Sound familiar?

Now, time to get philosophical. Ship of Theseus.

What is it? Ship of Theseus is an ideological/philosophy problem about a king, Theseus, who saved the children of Athens from king Minos and the Minotaur and then sailed his ship to Delos. Then each year Athenians would sail that same ship from Athens to Delos in celebration of the myth. Over time they kept replacing parts of the ship for maintenance purposes, till every plank had been replaced, so they could still make the voyage. Now the question is, is it still the same ship? At what point did it stop becoming that original ship? And does it matter?

Applying this philosophical exercise to resurrection, with what we know above, we can get an interesting dialogue going. But, with that said, it’s important to keep in mind that the resurrection process in this context with these multidimensional gods isn’t explained with enough detail to really take it apart. Like what happens to the soul? Is the brain damage we know Marc has from repeatedly dying and his brain repeatedly going without oxygen or is it from just interacting with a multidimensional god? Is the spider god comparable to Khonshu? Is the spider god even real, if not what or how was Peter actually resurrected? And if it is real, what is its main goal? At least with Khonshu we know he has an agenda. What does it want, what’s its end game?

But let’s get into it anyways.

Now, you may be wondering, why do I keep saying multiple resurrections in regards to Spider noir? I am so glad you asked! I believe Peter's initial spider bite killed him. He had to go to the afterlife to actually see the spider god. That’s why we really only see them three times, at the initial power conception, Peter’s resurrection, and when Peter goes to the ‘underworld’ in the 2020 run. We see something similar with Khonshu in Midnight mission, while he’s in space jail, Marc can only see him during resurrections or while he’s dead. And while we’re comparing the MK system to spider noir, when Marc got his powers, he basically had to die first. That was implied to be his first resurrection. So this wouldn’t be a one off situation. We have some rules.

What we don’t see with Moonknight and Khonshu is visual physical change. Outside of the ghost bird skull armor the boys aren’t visually changing. Meanwhile, Peter has physically turned into a monster before and turned completely back. In #4/5 of the 2020 noir run the cicada stone/pink meteor turns people into monsters, but not everyone. Huma turns, Shocker turns, Peter turns, and all the resurrected villains(one guy just explodes). But Hu-Ri and Checkpoint Red don’t, until Hu-Ri touches the stone. Huma and Peter are both in close proximity to eldritch beings, them turning into inspired versions of those beings make sense. The Shocker turns because he spent so much time holding onto the stone, whereas Red hasn't. But notice Shocker and Hu-Ri don’t turn into an animal inspired version of themselves like Huma and Peter do, he becomes more of a hulk like creature, because he isn’t attached to an other-worldly being. And when Peter turned back he essentially said “that hurt like a bitch” and kept moving.

If we want to keep with the canon noir timeline and going with the idea that the Spider god is either continuously changing Peter, or just changing him during resurrections this would explain the webbing and mood/personality change from the 2009 comics to the 2020 comics. But that’s boring and too simple and I hate the time jump so fuck that shit.(again another post).

So let’s focus back on ‘Ship of Theseus’ in the context of resurrection. We have too many questions about the process of resurrection for spider noir to properly have this conversation, but I’m going to try anyways. Let’s hit what we know again: resurrection changes your brain chemistry/structure, the spider god is changing Peter throughout the series, Peter has possibly had three resurrections, the spider god resurrected Peter from a different dimension, which confirms this is a multidimensional being(if she exists but shhhh). So now that we’ve established that there are changes happening to Peter(one way or another) we know that the spider god is ‘repairing’ Peter throughout the series or ‘replacing his boards’ so to speak.

At what point is this no longer Peter? Is it when he is no longer recognizable as a human? Or is it when there is nothing left in his mind to resurrect? Or has this never been Peter, or rather not since his first resurrection when he got his powers? Is this change sudden or slow? Is it the resurrection that turns him into something else, is it slow build up like an Iodine Clock titration and one day he just wakes up no longer human, or is it a slow process of subtle changes? But if the latter, what’s the change that does it? What defines Peter’s humanity? Does it matter if he’s human or not? Does it change anything for him if he’s no longer human in body and mind?

Part of the answer may lie in the villains we see through the 2009 and 2020 runs. In the first run the main villains were the Goblin and the Vulture. Both who were implied to not be human or having physical inhuman qualities(but I’m partially ignoring the whole carney thing cause honestly it’s ableist and boring). In Eyes Without A Face, the second run, the main villains are the Crime Master and Dr. Octavious, both humans with no inhuman or supernatural qualities. For simplicity sake, let’s focus on Octavious and Goblin. In comparing the two I think most people would agree Octavious is the more heinous of the two. Goblin takes on the role of a mob boss. He runs a crime empire, exploiting the defenseless in New york. It’s nothing new and he’s even somewhat sympathetic ‘I’m finished with freakshows’, you can understand how he got where he is. This is not to say he isn’t a villain but he very much fits the ‘villain with a tragic backstory’. People look at him like he is a monster, we, the reader, start out the story knowing what he is.

Whereas Octavious is not even remotely sympathetic because there is no empathizing with how he ended up there and why he does what he does. He is not only othered by his actions but also by the narrative for his disability(it’s important to acknowledge the ableism in his story but that is another post). Ultimately his delusions and the acts he commits make him a much more sinister monster than Norman, despite Norman actually having stereotypical qualities of a monster.

Then we have Huma and Shocker from the 2020 run. Huma is the closest person we see who is in a similar situation to Peter in terms of the spider god. While we don’t know all the details, whether she is the same as Peter, bearing a curse of power, or the actual god. Either way she presents as human and is not treated differently than any other human woman. At the end of the series we realize how corrupt she is and that she’s been working with Nazi’s, not necessarily for the ideology but to achieve what she wants. Her transformation is the nail in her coffin of her monsterous perception. The question is did we need her to look like a monster to see her as one?

In general we are left with more questions and theories than answers.

But onto my subjective answers to the questions. My answers might change over time so don’t hold me to them.

Of course it matters if Peter has humanity. Peter Parker across the board is one of the characters who HAS to hold himself to a moral code or he falls apart and becomes the villain(well maybe not the villain but you know what I mean) of the story. He holds back during fights and has a no kill policy for a reason.(Good men don’t need rules, today is not the day to find out why I have so many.-dr.who) But noir Peter isn’t your typical Peter. He kills, he maims, he doesn’t hold back. With that said, he still is held together by his morality. It’s just different than what we are used to seeing from Peter, but don’t mistake that as a lack of morality. However, do I think it’s a very real possibility that this morality could be eroded over time especially considering his home world and the above circumstances? Absolutely. Peter is someone who historically needs someone to ground him and ‘make’ him human. This is normally May Parker, Mary Jane, Gwen Stacy, occasionally Harry Osborn, Daredevil, Johnny Storm, and Flash Thompson, and the ghost of Ben Parker. Dude lives by a passing saying of a dead relative, he clearly doesn’t have a super solid moral compass. I think this is part of the reason the noir comics kept his relationship with May and Mary Jane(I disagree but whatever whatever), because he needs support to stay grounded.

Now, under what circumstances is Peter no longer Peter? I’m going with the Iodine Clock titration theory. Just drop after drop of ‘changes’ and morally questionable decisions that don’t seem to hold much weight, until he does something truly off the reservation. Like seeing himself do something truly horrific that a couple years ago he would have never done and shocking himself out of it. Or looks in the mirror and doesn’t see a person staring back. For either circumstance, because he’s appalled with himself or struck by the fact he doesn’t really care. This is not to say I don’t think he could come back from this but holy shit will it be a process.

But it brings us back to ‘If there is too much power then it is the responsibility of the people to take it away.’ Peter losing his humanity puts him in the Goblin’s place as the one with great power that cannot be trusted from the first comic. Whether it’s the resurrections, the spider god ‘replacing’ parts of him, or him just being pushed to the brink mentally that does it. Whether the change is physical, neurological, spiritual, or mental. This ‘Peter’ is not the Peter we first meet in 1932.

This is a different ship, and you can sail and stay on the same course in memory of, or under the false pretense of being, the original as many times as you want, but you cannot bring back the parts you replaced and undo the ‘improvements’ you made. But that doesn’t need to make Peter a monster.

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likecanyoujustnot · 4 months

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Cardan’s letters pov

Part 4: ridiculous

A/n: currently typing this on my iPad that is so old it’s lost 10 percent in 10 minutes. But I won’t write much i want to know if my Hawke-is-actually-casteel theory is correct. Anyway. Enjoy

Part 3. Part 5

36 days.

36 days and no Jude. I’d never not seen her for this long, even when we hated each other.

I was getting desperate. And desperate people do foolish things.

Like go to their families graves.

They were buried outside, in the woods.

Dain.

Elowyn.

Caelia.

Rhyia.

Eldred.

I stared at the stones that marked their final resting place. So simple, the prince, princess and high king, reduced to a small headstone that would be overgrown in a few decades.

I may have despised my brother and father, but no one wants to have their entire family massacred.

I don’t know what happened to Dain’s mother’s. Balekin probably gave her body to her sister, or other unspeakables.

After Jude had been exiled, I went to the courtyard where she had killed him. Said to the guards to do with him as they wished. Dig a shallow grave, feed him to some rabid creature, dump him in the ocean, sell his organs, I really didn’t care.

I wouldn’t be king if it weren’t for him.

I’d be enjoying a life of zero responsibilities and be able to drink and lust over Jude to my hearts content.

Balekin wouldn’t have killed me at the coup, he didn’t know of Oak’s lineage, and thought I was the only one able to crown him.

But I was grateful for Jude taking me away. Who knows how long I would’ve stayed under that table for.

Plus it had ended with us kissing, which was a massive bonus.

What I wouldn’t give for one more kiss from her lips. One more skeptical look as I did something she disapproved of. One more second, so I could tell her what was truely in my heart.

The bomb had been right when she’d said I loved Jude.

I’d loved Jude since we’d gone to school together. I’d seen her beauty, so different to the perfectness of the other women I’d been with, more rugged, raw. Seen the way she didn’t let her inability to do what the fae could hold her back, she was fierce when standing up for herself, when showing the fae- showing me- that she was not one to be underestimated.

And I’d taken all of it, the beauty, the ferociousness, the strength, the moments she let her guard down, for granted.

If she ever came back, I would tell her how I felt, how I loved her, how my every thought was consumed with her.

I placed the flowers on the graves of my sisters. I missed them. Even if I didn’t see them that often and they liked to pretend I didn’t exist.

I spat on my father’s grave as I left the clearing, not even acknowledging Dain’s.

“Mother.”

I stood in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her rummage through the cupboards for food. Multiple family reunions in one day. Lucky me.

She made a sound of recognition.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re not very smart are you? It’s quite clear I’m looking for food.”

Lady Asha was many things, a sympathetic mother was not one.

“There are rumours around court.”

I folded my arms and lent against the door. “That’s not new, they always talk.”

She looks at me and there is a cruel smile on her face. One I recognise as being so similar to my own. “Yes but now there are the most scandalous stories about you and your dear seneschal.” I raise a brow and she continues. “They’re saying you and her were involved in a physical relationship.” I keep my face blank. “Some state you stole her from Locke, and in desperation he married her sister. Others say you exiled her because she’s pregnant with your child, and you would rather abandon her than father a half-human child.”

I rolled my eyes. “She’s not pregnant, I exiled her for killing my brother.”

“That won’t stop them.”

She straightened and walked over to the bench. I noted the absence of food in her hands. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought her back. Might be something you and your father have in common. Abandon your lovers.”

“I am nothing like my father. And this conversation is wasting my time.”

She smirked as I left.

I don’t know why I continued to deal with her presence. She didn’t care about me when she ignored me as a child, a baby who had to find his own way to survive.

If I ever had children I would make sure they never went a day without knowing I loved and cared for them.

And of course that line of thinking brought me back to Jude.

Did she want kids?

We’d both had thoroughly messed up childhoods. Her parents had been murdered by the man she now considered her father. My father probably would have been glad if I’d just died.

We had Oak if she didn’t want them.

I sighed and sat back on my bed. I’d spent so long in here the past month. Wishing for nothing more than Jude to be beside me.

But she wasn’t.

So I would do the only thing I could think of.

I wrote another letter.

Jude,

I love you, and I miss you so much it hurts.

No, the first time I told her I loved her would be in person. Not over a freaking letter.

Jude,

Not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and I hate it.

Cardan

I stared at the words.

At the words I didn’t say.

Tags:

@magicstrengthandcourage

#cardans letters pov #the cruel prince #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #cardan greenbriar fanart #jude duarte #jurdan #jurdan fanfic #jude x cardan #the folk of the air #folk of the air

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mintichoco · 2 years

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CREDIBLE | twtptflob

"ARE YOU AWARE THAT I CAN KILL YOU WITHOUT SO MUCH AS MOVING AN INCH?" | "SO COULD A CHICKEN WITH ENOUGH MOTIVATION, YOU'RE NOT SPECIAL"

TITLE TRACK. psycho - red velvet

FANDOM. the way to protect the female lead's older brother

CHARACTER. oc-insert, visuals of aria valentine

PRONOUNS. she/her

SUMMARY. a gen-z kid gets dropped in the world of twtptflob. . .right infront of lante agriche

FORMAT. headcanons, scenarios

INSPIRATION. this post by @rouecentric

NEXT CHAPTER. [1, you are here] • [2]

Nash was an iPad kid in every sense of the word. Her mother could not bother to care beyond sending monthly checks to the manor (more like luxurious jail) where the caretakers pocketed half the sum and the rest went to pamper her.

She could't be mad, there were plenty people out in the real world who'd kill for that kind of money. She spent her days tinkering on school projects, binge-watching historical k-dramas and being a general menace to the working staff.

Now imagine her surprise when she went to bed at three in the morning after haphazardly throwing together an art project featuring 'Kakashi the grey hare' and woke up on cold hard marble, instead of her fluffy mattress.

"What the heck?" She shuffled to a sitting stance, rubbing her sore neck.

The brushing of black skirts and the scruff of boots tethered her attention to the floor.

There were maids, a few dozens of them. Nash had her own nannies, sure, but nobody in the twenty-first century wore these silks unless as costumes, that too the very short version and for funzies on Tiktok or the bedroom.

"Woah-", a grin danced on her face. "Is this some sort of cult? Before the intro, I'll make this clear, I don't wanna be a part of this scooby-doo squad. Now, where am I?"

Silence, silence. Silence everywhere. Then, a fine looking specimen of testosterone-producer stepped up from the crowd, gripping a sword-A SWORD?!-in his hand.

"What business do you have with Agriche? How did you manage to get past the barrier guards? Start talking before I make sure you never will."

Well, zamn, who hurt you?

"Yeah, I was hoping you'd the know the answer to that?" She was thoroughly confused. "And since you don't, we can all just forget this ever happened and go our own seperate ways, okay? Okay, bye!"

A brilliant beyond brilliant idea popped up in her head. Taking out her phone, she tried searching for a signal. Hey, her mother may not pick up but she will dispatch atleast one guard to check on her.

"What is that?" The emo grandpa snapped his fingers. The phone was snatched away in an instant.

Nash reached for the object, only to be shoved away. "Hey, that's mine! Give it back!"

"Master, it seems to be some unknown technology, far beyond research-work mentioned in the archives", the woman replied and handed it over to the man in the lavish tux with a. . .bow?

What the frick is happening?!

The man chuckled and Nash felt a chill go down her spine. "A spy? Tell me, which lowlife has started copying my tactics, hm? Though, it is for the greater good, I suppose. The kids outside of this territory are pathetic, they pose no worthy challenge for my soldiers."

Which grown ass man sends people to fight kids?!

With furrowed brows, legs and arms crisscrossed, Nash drew a long breath. "Look dude, I don't know who you are or where I am but I don't mean to cause any trouble. . .yet. But if you don't return my phone, we're gonna have a problem here."

He quirked a brow and a tide of murmurs erupted from the audience. With a subtle clang his weapon was unseathed, the sharp blade pointed straight towards her neck.

Holy mother the of sweet Je-

"Are you aware that I can kill you without so much as moving an inch?"

Her breath hitched and she felt the hiccups coming. "So could a - hic - a chicken with enough motivation. You're not special-"

"Father, you called?"

A whispery voice carried by the wind stopped the man dead in his tracks from possibly ripping Nash a new one.

"Roxana", he rasped, clicking his tongue. "I don't appreciate tardiness. In any case, I'd like you to familiarize yourself with the latest brand of spies that are sent after us. Do they think of us as idiots!”

With that attitude, you’d make a fine Karen, sir. Wait. . .did he just say ’Roxana’?

Nash swiveled on her heel faster than light, coming face to face with said exotic beauty, shimmering rubies for eyes, adorned in a fashionable gown that almost made up for it’s weight.

"Y-You're Roxana Agriche?!"

At her starstruck exclaimation, the lady pursed her lips and only nodded curtly in acknowledgement.

Suddenly, Nash was clutching her head. She felt dizzy, she was definitely going to hurl.

Bye-bye fancy carpet, so long. . .

"Forking fudgecake!" The first row of maids probably jumped at the sheer decibel of her shout. "Did I get hit by truck-kun? No, that's not possible. How will a truck get in my house?! Murder, then? Not unlikely. . .although who would assassinate sweet ol’ me? Let’s see. . .”

"As you witness”, the newly recognized Lante Agriche waved the sword dangerously close to her face. Nash skiddadled to Roxana’s side. "This one doesn't know how to behave.”

Nash tilted her head to gander at the second heir’s face. She was lost in thought, her face overcome with a forlorn expression.

Roxana stroked her chin and then nodded. "You wish for me to oversee the interrogation?”

Lante grinned like a madman, thankfully storing away the blade. "As expected, you are a natural.” Nash had to do a double take to make sure his face fell in the matter of milliseconds. "Do not disappoint me.”

A sharp pain appeared in her scalp when her obnoxiously long pink hair was grasped and she was pushed back against the wall.

Yup, no wonder all the female leads hate this.

Lante did his best impression of a ravenous beast from the Black Forest, snarling and sneering. ”I will figure out where your loyalties lie and set an example through you. Am I understood?"

As astonishing as it is to be held like this by a 2D character, it ducking hurts, biAtch!

"Y-yes, sir!" As if-

He released her but it felt the same, as if her head was on fire. "Take her away.”

Roxana did not spare a moment to escort Nash to her room. They arrived in two minutes max and the blonde dismissed her tendants for the evening.

With a cotton swab and a bottle of suspiciously glowy liquid, she started dabbling the scratch that had formed on Nash's face, right under her eye from being thrown against the stone column.

She was quiet for most of the time while Nash observed Roxana's face. The teen truly was a looker, one worthy of people stopping in their tracks to stare at.

Light hair framed her face like a halo while piercing red eyes that tore through one's soul akin to the devil himself.

"Earlier, you mentioned a truck, yes?"

Nash blinked dumbly. "Uh-huh."

Roxana looked her directly in the eye. "Are your perhaps from. . .This is going to sound ridiculous but are you from Earth? Like, the actual modern world?"

The pinkette chewed on her botton lip. "Er. . .maybe?"

Roxana dropped her head and if Nash wasn't mistaken, she sighed out of relief. "How did you end up here?"

The younger girl threw her hands up. It felt weird talking to a fictional character who went into a fictional-fictional world.

Wait, that makes no sense.

"I don't know, lady! One minute I'm falling asleep reading manhwa on my computer and the next thing I know kaboom Lante-the-asshole Agriche is in front of me!"

"What's a manwha? Did you not read the novel-", Roxana paused mid-way, narrowing her gaze. "You are much too young to read those kinds of books."

Nash coughed awkwardly. "Well, I didn't exactly read it. It doesn't even exist in my world."

"Meaning? And you say your world as if we're from seperate ones."

Nash clapped her hands, slouching against the cushions on Roxana's bed. "Bingo." The girl stared at her, perplexed. "You know about the miltiverse theory, right? Y'know, spider-man and stuff like that?"

The blonde nodded.

"If I were to guess, we are both from two different realities. It's like a layer formation. The 'Flower of Hell' takes place in one, then you enter from another and change the course of the world and then I enter from a different reality like a cherry on top."

Roxana remained still, the subtle widening of her eyes being evidence of understanding. "I see. In any case, we need a place to fit you in. As far as I've looked, there is no escape. Other than death, but that is uncharted territory."

Nash made a face. You speak of death like it's the next door neighbor. Then she remembered. But for her, it probably isn't the worst thing to happen.

She cleared her throat, shrugging as nonchalantly as possible. "Any chance I can take a shower? I kinda sorta really stink."

The ghost of a smile passed over Roxana's face. "I will ask for a bath to be prepared." Her gaze traveled down, "And a tailor to take your measurements. Can't have my charge looking so haggard."

Nash looked down, her face burning red. She was still in her Hello Kitty jammies. "Hey!"

Roxana stood up, packing away the medical kit. "I will be back later. Your dinner will be sent here; eat after freshening up. And try to keep a low profile. The less people are aware of your existence, the better. Fa - Lante will likely dish out my orders for you at dinner."

She made to leave but turned around again.

"What?"

"I did not catch your name."

"Nash", the pinkette replied with a too-shrill voice, trying to rub the exhaustion out of her eyes.

Roxana was amused. "Full name?"

"Ugh. . .Nashira Parker, at your service, m'Lady."

As soon as the door clicked shut, Nash threw herself on the heavenly bed, feeling her body sink into the spread of softness.

'What a day. Welp- this is my life now, I guess.'

#twtptflob #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #roxana agriche #roxana #dion agriche #jeremy agriche #lant agriche #griselda agriche #maria agriche #cassis pedalian #manhwa #twtptflob x oc #twtptflob x reader #dion x reader #jeremy x reader #roxana x reader #ashil agriche

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felinefrenzies · 18 days

Text

Touch the Ab(utt)normality || Syd & Memphis

TIMING: several months ago, just after memphis returned to wr. LOCATION: near the abnormality. PARTIES: @2distraught2haunt & @felinefrenzies SUMMARY: syd invites memphis to hang out. CONTENT WARNINGS: parental death mentions, memory loss (shifter related), unsanitary (in regards to zombie death, not detailed)

Syd knocked their beer bottle against the bottom of Memphis’s. “Aren’t you too old to be out here?” Memphis was only a year older than themself, but it felt natural to poke fun at him anyway. The topic of Clary came to mind, and they thought of the little girl with the bright smile and brightly colored sticker book. Maybe it was better that Memphis was out on his own rather than confined to the apartment they shared together. Who was watching Clary, though? That was a question for another time. Instead, Syd lifted the bottle to their lips, taking a quick swig.

“I fucking hate warm beer. Would it kill them to drag coolers up here, too?” They looked around, dots of light from the neighboring fire only a few feet away, illuminating at least halfway up the path to the abnormality. It wasn’t somewhere they should’ve been and they knew it, but it was hard to say no to their friends. Syd looked back towards Memphis. “It’s good to have you back though, seriously. Been super fucking boring for the most part, don’t think you missed a whole lot if I’m being honest.”

—

Much to Memphis’ dismay and annoyance, he couldn’t think of a good comeback, so he opted to just laugh alongside Syd and knock his drink to theirs. “I wish I could argue that, but I can only imagine the headache I’m going to have tomorrow. And I think my hip already hurts.” he said it as a joke, but it reminded him that his hip actually did hurt. He was too young for that, right? “And I’m totally telling Clary that it was your fault.”

“Warm beer hates you.” Memphis tried to quip. Another failure. Clearly his head wasn’t in the right place. The last few months had been too hectic and chaotic. Even after coming back to town he barely had time to socialize. Clary and Memphis had always gotten along, but there was a difference between the two being siblings and Memphis being her guardian. The adjustment period had been rough. He had desperately needed tonight to hang out with his old friends. To feel like a normal adult again, not whatever cheap knock-off of a parent he had become. “That’s because I’ve always been the life of the party.” Memphis smiled innocently at their friend, taking a long drink from his lukewarm beer before trying for a bit more honesty to match Syd’s. “I desperately needed this, though. I feel like I’ve only talked to Clary for the past three months. And I know it’s been a while since you’ve seen her, but she’s gone full iPad baby. I swear she’s ignoring me on purpose.”

—

Syd rolled their eyes. “That’s kind of fucked up. I only invited you out here ‘cause everyone missed your face.” They reached out, pinching Memphis’s cheek. “Ugh, whatever. You can complain tomorrow. Right now is not tomorrow.” Dropping their hand from his face, they leaned against the small barricade that kept tourists from going over the edge on their way up to the abnormality. “Tell her. She’ll make fun of you for having shitty knees, too.” Syd wiggled their brows as they took another sip, smile still evident at the corners of their lips.

“Nah, I think warm beer hates you– all that complaining you’re doing about tomorrow.” Syd sighed, lowering their beer so the lip of it knocked against their shoulder as they crossed their arms. “The life of the party?” They considered the statement for a moment before snorting. “Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.” It felt nice, being with Memphis again. Growing up together meant a lot of things– shared secrets, hobbies, snack preferences. They were glad that he was back, despite the circumstances. “An iPad baby, really? Shit.” Clicking their tongue against the roof of their mouth, they tilted their head to the side. “You hear about those kinds that make money on youtube by making toy reviews? Barbie ‘an shit? She could make you guys millionaires.”

—

Memphis would have been annoyed by the cheek pinch if he hadn’t been so flattered by it. Still, he rolled his eyes and glanced over towards another gathering of lights. He wasn’t giving the satisfaction to Syd. The truth was, it was nice knowing that he had been missed. Between medical school and now Clary, Memphis had mostly been absent from Syd and their other friend’s lives for the last few years. Sure, he had some holiday visits, but he hadn’t exactly stayed in constant communication. When he withdrew from residency and packed his things to move back, he had been fairly certain he was moving back to a city with no friends. That they had all long forgotten him and moved on. He felt incredibly lucky that that wasn’t the case. “She’ll make fun of me for anything. And twelve year olds are ruthless.” Memphis sighed, “You better hope she still thinks you’re as cool as she used to. Maybe you’ll be safe from her wrath.”

Memphis finished off his beer and abandoned it on the ground and scoffed at Syd’s disbelief. How dare they not recognize his obviously party animal qualities? “Sorry, I don’t do a ton of sleeping. Since I’m so busy being the life of the party and everything. It’s a full time job and I constantly work doubles.” Admittedly, Memphis was so tired he could have passed out on the chair right now, but he was determined to have a fun night out with his friends, uninterrupted by his chronic sleep deprivation. “Right? She doesn’t even do that. Just watches those rich kids with all their money while actively costing me money. As the kids would say, smh.”

—

“Fuck. She’s twelve now?” Syd still pictured her as the bumbling five year old, overly excited to show the mess of drawings she’d done on multicolored paper. “And dude, of course she does. ‘Cause I am still just as cool.” They flexed their hands, an array of new tattoos scattered over their skin. The ink was ever growing, and they were grateful that the apprenticeship had been an opportunity that worked out. There weren’t many other things that they wanted to do with their life, but tattooing had always been a sort of calling, as ridiculous as it sounded.

“Don’t you know the no littering rules?” Syd knelt down, grabbing the bottle by the neck, pressing it back into Memphis’s chest. “I’m sure there’s a trash can around here somewhere.” They twisted around, eyes narrowed as they tried to find one. They might have to pack their drinks out, if there wasn’t one to be found. For a tourist site, Syd was almost positive there should’ve been one. “You’re so edgy, admitting you don’t sleep. Remind me to never see you if I have to go to the hospital.” Syd didn’t think that’d ever happen, anyway. Their parents were fairly adamant about not seeing just any doctor. “That’s what kids do though, right? The whole, cost you money thing.” Syd couldn’t imagine the position Memphis had been put in, and even if it was selfish, they had to admit they were grateful they were an only child with no children of their own. They didn’t think they’d be cut out to be a parent, anyway. “Let’s go find that trash can. Wake you the hell up.” They shoved the end of the bottle against his arm before leading the way up the pathway.

—

“She sure is. And she won’t let you forget it.” Memphis groaned, “I’ll be thirteen in a few months and then you’re officially ancient” Memphis gave his best Clary impression, which really only consisted of a higher octave and less emotion. But then Syd was claiming that they were cool and Memphis simply couldn’t have that. “No, no. That definitely can’t be it, there’s got to be another explanation. Bad taste. Or maybe a concussion or something.”

Memphis pretended to be insulted by Syd’s action, shoving the glass back into his arms, “I wasn’t going to leave it. You have no faith in me.” But Memphis didn’t abandon the bottle again, opting to hug it against his chest instead. “Some day when it’s not super dark and barely lit I need an updated tattoo tour. I’ve clearly missed a lot.”

Right, the hospital. Memphis hadn’t exactly gotten around to telling his friends that his return to take care of Clary was more permanent than he had originally thought. Realistically, residency just didn’t work when he had a kid to take care of. Being an EMT wasn’t exactly ideal either, honestly. The hours sucked. But it allowed for a pretty consistent schedule (even if that schedule was 24 hour shifts) and a stable paycheck. He thought about just ripping the bandaid off now, but didn’t want to sour the mood. So he opted to ignore the comment entirely and jump up from the chair, “I like the way you think. Lead the way, sarge.”

—

Syd snorted at Memphis’s impression of Clary. It was probably better that after what happened to his parents, he wasn’t left behind on his own. There were people who cared about him, clearly evident by the sheer amount of people who had welcomed him at his arrival, but it was different with family, and Syd knew that. “You should take better care of your sister, if that’s the case.” She arched a brow before gesturing further forward.

“You’re right, there’s no faith. Better to get rid of it now, anyway than to forget it or get lazy later.” They said it an almost sing-song voice as they dragged their hand against the wood railing, careful to avoid the splintering wood at its densest. Syd nodded, “and you could always drop by in for one yourself.” Syd shot him a look, “could even discount it, if it’s a money thing.” Truthfully, they’d probably ink him for free out of courtesy for being friends with her.

They climbed the small distance towards the abnormality lookout. It was too close for comfort, and something in their chest stirred at the proximity. It was like their jaguar knew to be wary of it. They looked over at Memphis, “oh, look.” They pointed across from where they stood, “looks like we found ourselves a trash can.” No recycling bins, but this would have to do. Syd finished off their own beer, tossing it into the can before turning around to look at the large structural rock. “Thought this thing was bigger as a kid, but being here now, feel like it’s just as big. Dontcha think so?”

—

“Wow. You’re such a traitor. You’re supposed to be on my side.” Memphis whined, but continued to follow Syd. At the end of the day, Syd was one of the closest friends he had ever had. Sure they had grown apart in recent years, but the two had grown up together. Their constant teasing of each other at an almost sibling quality to it. He wanted to make sure that they didn’t grow apart again, so even if they did side with the other Malik, unfortunately Syd was stuck with him.

“I’d love a tattoo actually. We should set something up.” He had no idea what tattoo he was interested in, but if it was by Syd he would think of something. It wasn’t like his parents could object. His mom would have to show up in ghost form and do that, and for some reason they hadn’t yet shown their faces. It was weird, of all the Malik family line that Memphis did not want to see, the two people he actually wished he could didn’t seem to want to make an appearance.

Tossing his own glass into the trash, Memphis focused his attention on the rock structure that Syd pointed out. They were right, it felt like nothing had really changed. It was just as terrifying as it had been back when they were Clary’s age. Memphis had never liked heights, so any jokes about climbing the structure always got his blood racing. It had been especially unfortunate when Syd and their friends figured that out. “And I’m not any less scared of it than I was as a kid either. Gives me the heebie-jeebies. That thing doesn’t bother you at all?”

—

“I can be on both of your sides. I’m a double agent like that.” Syd shrugged, grin still pricking the corners of her mouth, widening ever so slightly. It was funny in its own way, lingering on the outskirts of a friendship that they thought would grow more and more dormant, but had flourished the moment that Memphis had returned to Wicked’s Rest.

Syd’s eyes grew wide as Memphis agreed. “Shit, really?” They tilted their head as if to survey his biceps, then reached up with one hand to create an L shape with their thumb and index finger. “I can imagine where it’ll go. Right there.” No idea what it’d look like, they’d figure that out later. “I think you’ll look pretty badass with one.” Or maybe he’d look the same, but did that really matter?

“Mmm, wouldn’t say I’m not not afraid of it.” Maybe that wasn’t the right word, because Syd wouldn’t be standing this close if they were afraid of it. “Just not super into it, and I think that’s pretty normal, right?” They said with a laugh. It was getting darker, and there were only a few lights that lit the walkway up. They should probably head back down to the fire. “I dare you to touch it.” It was said as an afterthought, something they knew they shouldn’t be saying.

—

“Double agent my ass.” Memphis sighed, rolling his eyes even though she probably couldn’t see him in this light. Or lack thereof. “You’d leave me as soon as she smiled at you. She can be deceptively cute when she wants to be.” He should bring her to more things with her. She may enjoy hanging out with the ‘big kids’. But at the same time, they didn’t have the same relationship they used to when they were only siblings. Clary may not be as excited about hanging out with her guardian's friends as she was about her brother’s.

“You already have it planned out?” Memphis questioned, raising his arm to inspect the area she pointed at. He rolled his sleeve up to expose the skin and studied the spot. It wasn’t a bad idea. He could cover the tattoo if he chose to, though it wasn’t like his job cared about tattoos. He had been at the station a few times to prepare for training. Half the squad had sleeves. “Did you pick out the tattoo already too or do I have to do that part?” He honestly wasn’t against the idea. He was sure that Syd could think of something cooler than Memphis could. Syd was a wizard when it came to tattoos. Their brain worked in an artistic and creative way that Memphis’ never could.

“Being indifferent to the weird mineral rock is so casually badass” Memphis laughed. “I don’t know. Everyone in town seemed to always have an opinion on this thing.” Memphis raised his hand to motion towards the thing, but made sure to keep plenty of distance between them, “Most people think it’s cursed. I’m pretty sure someone told me once that it was space rock that aliens were using to track us. As if Maine is at the top of any alien planet’s list of invasion.” Memphis wasn’t sure what he believed about the thing. He guessed he just thought it was a weird, big ass mineral. But the part of him that knew ghosts existed and had to keep somewhat of an open mind, knew that he didn’t want to risk touching the thing. “Me? You’re the one that’s ‘not super into it’.Shouldn’t you be the one touching it?”

—

“Okay, and? So what.” Syd held their hands up in defense. “Look, you can’t just tell Clary no. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in at least every single country known to man.” Maybe that was a little dramatic. Syd did have a soft spot for the kid, though. “You should bring her over sometime, I have no problem watching her if you want to go out on some hot date or something.” They bumped his arm with their own, wiggling their brows suggestively. “Or, we can all go do something together. Whatever, I’m down.”

“Yeah, it’ll go great across there.” Syd motioned to the spot again, folding their arms over their chest. “Oh, dude. I’m not going to pick what goes on your skin for the rest of your life.” It was said with a snort, “you get to do that. Don’t want you saying I ruined your life in five years time or some shit.” More dramatics, but to be expected from her. “But if you’re drawing a blank, I’ve got a flash sheet with some things that might be more your style.” They tried to imagine what Memphis would want, but unfortunately drew a blank. While they knew him, there were some things that were a little too intimate. In her case, she put whatever the hell she wanted then and there on her body with little to no deliberation.

“A space rock? Aliens?” Syd regarded the large fixture with a nod, “you know what? I’d believe that. It kinda looks like that.” She hoped it wouldn’t upset the rock, if there was anything living inside of it– aliens or otherwise. This town had a lot of weird things, herself included, and so it wouldn’t surprise her to know that the abnormality actually had feelings of its own. “Maine might, be. Dude, have you seen our beaches? They’re preem.” Syd narrowed her eyes at him at the suggestion. “Why should I be the one to touch it? You’re afraid, aren’t you? Why don’t we just touch it together? You know, Nemo it.” It felt childish to suggest such a thing, because even if deep down Syd knew that there was something clearly wrong with the abnormality, it was just a rock, wasn’t it? Why should she be afraid of it?

—

“I knew you were under her spell too” Memphis shook his head dramatically as if disappointed in his friend. For all the shit he talked, Clary was actually a pretty good kid. Considering the year they had both had, she could have been a lot worse. Taking care of her now was hard enough. He had no clue how he would manage to do it if the girl was rebellious. He supposed he would probably find out in the next few years as she got into high school. “Really? I mean, I don’t see any hot dates in my future. But I could always use a backup babysitter. Especially one Clary actually likes. “I guarantee she’d love to hang out with you again.”

So the choice of tattoo was on Memphis to decide. He shouldn’t be as disappointed as he was. He shook it off quickly though. Syd was right, it should be something that he chooses. Especially the first one. “Boo” Memphis still complained, because who was he really if not complaining?

“Right. Aliens are definitely planning an invasion of Maine to scope out the best vacation spots.” Memphis laughed at the thought. He at least hoped they were nice, if they were going to take up real estate in the town. Alien neighbors were one thing, but shitty alien neighbors was taking it too far. Yes! I’m absolutely afraid to touch the cursed alien rock. Thank you for noticing.” The craziest part was that Memphis was actually considering Syd’s proposition. At least if they touched it together they’d both be responsible for whatever happened. So now Memphis had a choice to make. On one hand, he knew it was a stupid idea to touch the rock, but on the other hand - it was a rock. People touched rocks all the time. Some people even made careers out of touching rocks. And Memphis was just drunk enough to let the latter thought process lead his decision making. “Okay, you know what? Fine. Let’s do it. Let’s touch the butt.” Memphis literally shook off his last remaining fears and held his palm out. Ready?” He put on a brave face, but under his breath he continued to mumble ‘touch the butt, touch the butt, touch the butt’ under his breath.

—

“Is it a spell, or is it because she’s just cool? I’m going to tell her you don’t think she’s cool.” Syd stuck their tongue out at him before rolling their eyes. “Why not? You could totally get a hot date. You’re pretty hot yourself, it’s just about putting yourself out there, right?” Syd was a bit of a serial dater themself, but in recent years, it had died down. Tattooing didn’t take up a lot of their time, but they were filling their time with other things, like hanging out with friends instead of chasing around summer flingers (or otherwise). “Uh, duh. It’s because we’re both cool, and obviously she’d want to hang out with me.” Whether or not that was still true considering the time that had gone by, Syd wasn’t sure, but they’d let themself believe it.

“You never know. Have you seen our hiking trails?” Syd grinned at Memphis, “oh, come on.” She couldn’t blame him though and she knew that. There was something definitely fucked up about the weird alien rock as Memphis had put it, and a strand of anxiety hung between herself and said structure. But if they both did it, then it’d be fine, right? No harm done, they could both walk away. Nothing would happen. The jaguar stirred at the thought and Syd silently coaxed it into submission. She would never put herself or the spirit in danger, it had to know that. This was just… a rock, despite the feeling she got from it. A rock without a purpose. A stupid rock.

“Let’s fucking go, Memphy.” Syd hung one arm around his neck as they extended their other, palm mere inches from the abnormality. Nothing would happen, and they’d come away with this with nothing but laughter, right? The jaguar stirred again, but it was too late. Syd’s hand was planted firmly against the rock, and nothing happened. Nothing that they noticed, at least. They looked over at Memphis, a nervous grin pulling at the corners of her lips as she dropped her hand. “See? Nothing happened. Nothing at all.” A spark of anxiety, a recollection of what happened in the woods– how Callum wasn’t here tonight, and Syd blinked away the visceral memories. “Nothing.” They coughed out again, stepping away from the structure. They looked at it with pursed lips. “You feel anything?”

—

“Definitely a spell. Probably like black magic. Some dark and forbidden shit. I couldn’t care less if you told her I’m not cool.” Memphis crossed his arms and pouted, knowing full well that both Syd and him knew that he cared. Not that it mattered. No matter what Clary truly thought, there was no way in hell that twelve year old would ever openly admit that Memphis was cool. But she definitely probably thought it internally. That was what Memphis told himself at least. “Not a ton of people in their late twenties are itching to date someone with a twelve year old. Even if she’s not like genetically mine. It’s a lot to commit to.” Not that he had really tried to find someone, but it had to be true. Memphis knew he wouldn’t be interested in it if the script were flipped. “Between Clary and everything else, I’m not sure I have time to spare for someone anyways. But thanks for calling me hot. Always a welcome compliment.” He grinned at the end, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. Deep, meaningful conversations weren’t his thing.

Memphis rolled his eyes at Syd’s comment, biting the urge to continue their pointless argument about where aliens may or may not wish to crash land and vacation. His mind was drifting from the joke now anyways, instead focusing on the rock in front of him. He wasn’t sure if he had ever gotten this close to it. Despite his desire to be in the medical field, purposely putting himself in danger had never been something Memphis enjoyed. Sure, there was something thrilling about being in the emergency room and helping save someone’s life that had been injured. But that was their life that was in danger. Not Memphis’. He could help glue it back together, but what could he do if it was his own life in peril? He shook the thought away though. Comparing someone’s very real and life threatening injury was night and day to Memphis not wanting to touch a rock. He ignored the prickling sensations crawling up his skin and the way his breath caught just thinking about putting his hands out any further. He finally rubbed both palms together, as if the friction would provide any extra protection and gave one final look at Syd. “Fuck it. Let’s go.”

Before Memphis could second guess himself again, he thrust his palm out. Syd and him touched it practically simultaneously, both keeping it resting there as they waited. What they were waiting for, Memphis couldn’t say. For a brief moment, Memphis did feel like he felt something, but not from himself. Syd had always been different to Memphis. Ever since they were kids, Memphis could feel something about them. Some sort of tv static, tingling sensation that just emanated off of them. Admittedly, as Memphis grew older he had just assumed it was a crush. Though when he explained it to his mom, she told him it sounded familiar to the same way they’d feel about ghosts. Clearly Syd wasn’t a ghost. So maybe they were haunted? It had been the best explanation he could come up with all these years later. For the most part, he had been able to ignore it after spending so much time together growing up. But touching the rock, he felt it again. Almost… stronger this time? It was probably just his nerves. “Just disappointment, mostly” Memphis lied. Nothing was exactly what he had wanted. “I assumed we’d be beamed up. Scotty style.”

—

“So you believe in magic?” Syd paused, before continuing, “I’m not about to bust into song, let’s get that clear right now.” They stifled a laugh, knowing well enough that magic did exist, or at least a version of it. This town was full of it. If she existed, and the undead existed, then other things did, too. She thought of the number of times she’d run into things out in the woods and how it never bode well, how it was always hard to make sense of it. But now, she rolled with the punches. She had lived here long enough to understand that while it might not make sense, whatever was happening was most certainly real. But there were a lot of people who didn’t think that way, and she wasn’t sure if Memphis was one of them, despite knowing him for the better part of their lives. “Hm, I guess a kid would kinda fuck that up, right? Next time you see someone hot, just say she’s not yours and kick her to the curb.” It was obviously a joke, and she hoped Memphis would take it as such. “No, for real though, I guess I get it. Not the kid thing, just sorta the whole everything-thing, y’know?” They offered him a small, reassuring smile. “I’m sure it’ll happen when it’s supposed to happen. Fate ‘an all that shit, right?” Syd didn’t believe in fate, but it sounded nice.

Syd should have turned away, should have decided against it. All it did was dredge up the memories of what happened with Callum, something that had been tucked away until tonight. She remembered what it felt like, teeth ripping through flesh. She couldn’t remember the rest of it, though. Couldn’t recall what had happened in the after, as the jaguar had suppressed those memories.

But it was too late. They had touched the metaphorical ass of Wicked’s Rest. She looked over at Memphis, begging for him to have some kind of reaction. Syd wasn’t sure if that was selfish or not, hoping to not go through whatever these memories were alone. Maybe they weren’t even hers. But the more she tried to push them away, the more they revealed. Syd swallowed thickly, an uneven laugh leaving them. No, that was too forced. They tried again, shoving Memphis by the arm. Something playful, something else, too. A means to distance herself, maybe. “Yeah. Fuck. Fucking Scotty.” Syd cleared her throat again, pushing her hair out of her face. “Okay. Let’s uh–” sinew, blood, rotting flesh, “go get another beer?” She didn’t want to stay at the abnormality for longer than necessary, and her throat was dry. “We’ll find another trash can. Fuck if I’m climbing back up here.”

#para: touch the ab(utt)normality #para: memphis #parental death tw #memory loss tw #unsanitary tw #wickedswriting

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starksvinyls · 5 months

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Title: The Sugar Effect (1/?) Rating: Teen+ Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark Tags/Warnings: AU - Modern, AU - Bakery, AU - Coffee Shop, AU - No Powers, Slow Burn, Awkward Flirting, Flirting, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Additional Tags To Be Added Summary: While out in Brooklyn, Tony Stark stumbles upon a bakery, and a bakery owner, that he just can't seem to stay away from. Notes: for @buckybarnesbingo square K4 'au: bakery' and @tonystarkbingo square R4 'au: coffee shop'.

AO3 Link

Tony grumbled to himself as he trudged down the block. What sort of company held their meetings in Brooklyn, of all places? The manufacturing plant wasn’t here, and their head office certainly wasn’t here. Tony sent sent Friday a note to remind him to deny the company's offers for a merger and then shoved his phone in his inner jacket pocket just as the clouds overhead opened up. He cursed and tried to stay under storefront awnings, but it was no use, the rain coming down traveled with the slight wind whipping through the buildings, and Tony found that his Tom Ford suit was not made for the rain.

Reaching for the handle on the first place he saw that served coffee, Tony pulled the door open and nearly sighed at the cinnamon scented warmth at seeped through his suit. A small bell had jingled over the door, and a man in long sleeves stepped out from the back. He was taller than Tony and his silky looking brown hair was pulled back into a bun. Pfft, hipsters.

“Welcome to Wake and Bake, what can I getcha?”

“Wake and Bake?” Tony raised an eyebrow and then glanced back at the door. Definitely hipsters.

“It’s funny,” The man shrugged. “So, can I get ya anything?”

“Coffee, hot.” Tony stepped towards the counter.

The man nodded and turned his back to Tony as he prepared his drink. Taking the opportunity, Tony glanced around the shop; the walls were covered in shelves full of knickknacks, several mismatched overstuffed arm chairs were placed around low bookshelves and coffee tables. The walls, what little of them he could see through all the artwork hung up, were black. The floor looked like that industrial made light colored hard wood. Several pastry cases sat to his left, shelves half filled with delicious looking treats. There was no one else in the small store besides him and the employee.

“Here ya go,” The man said as he placed the full cardboard cup on the counter. “Lids, sugar and what-not are over there.” He jerked his head, chin indicating which way as he his fingers tapped over an iPad. “Anything else?”

“How about a chocolate muffin? My CEO will kill me if I come back empty handed after ducking out of a meeting.”

The man chuckled and stepped over to the case. He selected one and placed it into a paper bag. “Wouldn’t want that,” He placed the bag next to Tony’s coffee.

With nothing else to keep him, Tony tapped his card on the reader and gathered up his coffee and muffin. He dreaded going back out into the rain, so he tapped out an SOS to Happy while he doctored up his coffee.

—-

He wasn’t specifically out to go to the bakery in Brooklyn, but once again Tony found himself in the borough and thought “why the hell not?” so he instructed Happy to stop on the way back to Manhattan. Tony hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the guy behind the counter. It had been awhile since a man caught his attention like that, it mostly being women - and then exclusively Pepper for awhile - for quite some years. But that stupid hipster man-bun had Made Tony wonder that deep brown hair would look like when let down, freshly washed and soft– damnit. Tony definitely had a thing for long hair, and he needed to stop thinking about it before the car came to a stop outside the shop.

This time, there were a few people scattered around - a girl on a laptop with green hair and more metal in her face than was probably healthy, a guy reading a book, and a tiny man with a drawing pad and a pencil. The same guy was behind the counter, wiping part of it down, and he smiled as Tony walked up.

“Duck out of another meeting?”

Tony smirked. “Nah, but I figured I’d give this place another shot. CEO loved the muffin, by the way.”

“Well, I appreciate it.”

“You’re the owner?” Tony was a bit surprised, this guy definitely did not give off bakery owner vibes.

“Owner, head baker, cleaning staff, and occasional accountant,” The man smiled. “I’m Bucky.”

“Tony,” He glanced up at the menu board. “Let me have a latte this time.”

—-

Bucky got to work, he didn’t know much about coffee - baking was his true specialty - but damn near everyone he talked to when he was trying to get Wake and Bake from an idea to an actual business told him it would be a good idea to serve coffee with the baked goods. So a couple brews of simple drip coffee, a latte, and a plain mocha made it’s way to the menu. Stuff Bucky could handle.

He turned back to the man at the counter and placed the latte down. “Anything else?”

The man studied the pastry case for a moment before his eyes lit up. “You have baklava?”

Bucky smiled. “Ma’s family recipe.”

“I’ll take two - no wait make it three - pieces.”

Bucky laughed as he bagged up the baklava, it was always nice when people appreciated his family recipes. Once Bucky placed the bag down, the man grabbed it and pulled out a piece to immediately try.

The noise he mad as he bit into the crispy and gooey layers was almost pornographic, but Bucky ignored the way it made heat pool in his stomach and just chuckled. “Good?”

“So good,” Tony quickly nodded. “In fact gimme a couple more pieces.” He said as he pulled out his wallet.

—-

As soon as the door had finished shutting, Steve was out of his seat, headed for the counter. He had to pause as his vision swam and he swayed slightly, but then resumed his mission.

“Bucky!”

His best friend grinned over at him. “Another cookie?”

“You can not flirt with him!” Steve hissed.

Bucky’s eyebrows notched down, furrowing. “What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

“That is Tony Stark,” When there was no recognition in his friend’s expression, Steve huffed. “But ugly building in Manhattan? Takes up my view of an otherwise gorgeous skyline?”

He ignored Bucky’s muttered “Oh, right.” and barreled on.

“I know you like to flirt with the customers, get more tips, but you can not flirt with that one, Buck, he’s bad news!”

Bucky just raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know being nice to the customers was considered flirtin’, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

Steve huffed, arms crossing over his chest. “Whatever, just give me another cookie.”

#buckybarnesbingo2023 #tonystarkbingomarkvii #tsbmvii #winteriron #starkbucks #winteriron fanfic #marvel fanfic #starksvinyls fic #fic: the sugar effect

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valentinesdayinaugust2 · 1 year

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Split tongue Mason!!!

Reworked an old Mason drawing yippie

I never really liked the drawing but posted it anyway, so if you saw it, no you did not

I’ve been kinda developing an artstyle as of lately so I’m kinda excited to see where that’s going

I’m also starting to get into resident evil and I finally was able to buy fe3h wooooooo I love Dimitri

Im also really excited for book 3 and I already pit away some cash to buy it as soon as it’s released hehe

Hope all of you had a better New Year’s Eve than me and good luck for the new year! :D

vv kind of a drawing process and the old sketch vv

Glorious first, rough sketch and the nauseating cleaned up sketch (not the finished product I ended up posting, it's not as terrible somehow)

Did all of that on my phone, on ibis paint and did the rest on my iPad, on csp yippie

Idk if anyone cares but I’ll explain my decisions here:

Okay so, the face was just too long, idk why I was so obsessed with giving him a face that long. The mouth looked awkward as well, the overall shape was bad and, even tho I love it when there's gum showing, I don't think it worked in that drawing, the teeth look weirdly long too. The eyebrows do not make sense either, I placed the eyebrow on the side of his face that's being squished by his mouth high while the other one is low. Does not make sense and it's driving me crazy. I also think that the eyes look boring and soulless. I took influence from different comic book artstyles and completely changed the shape of the eyes. I darkened them too to make it look more sinister. The shading on his face isn't too bad but the pillow shading is killing me. The necklace looks bad too, it's very 2 dimensional and looks like it was painted on tbh I just kinda forgot about it and maybe it's better that way. The hair was pretty nice but it didn't really work for what I was going for in my redraw, would've kept it otherwise. The nsoe is just a bit off and the ears look funky. The pose is awkward as well, just kinda looks like he's staring at you, in a weird weird way. It ended up looking more suggestive than intended tbh. There was no line weight at all, glad that I went for something more painterly. I also added the hearts because I thought it'd be cute to add hearts. Who would've thought that adding hearts to a pretty suggestive drawing would make it even more suggestive! I liked them too much so I kept them. In the end I looked up references for some dramatic lightning, added that on a multiply layer, added some grey and orange, put a black and white duplicated layer of the picture on color dodge, 14% opacity, to make the highlights pop and finished it off with a gradient map yippie

#the wayhaven chronicles #twc #wayhaven fanart #twc art #seraphinitegames #interactive fiction #twc mason #mason #wayhaven mason #agent m #my art

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bandedbulbussnarfblat · 1 year

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Remembrance chapter 14

here or read below. nsfw

Daniel returns and they begin the interview again. Louis talks about Lestat and Claudia, his efforts to get them to get along, them being alike, them enduring each other. The affair with Antoinette, who was now a vampire. Of dissociating. Claudia wanting to leave.

And she did leave, though Daniel knows even as Louis is speaking that she’ll be back. There wouldn’t be much of a story if she didn’t come back.

“This is the part of my story, back in San Francisco, where you said, and I paraphrase, ‘Give it to me. Make me a vampire now.’”

He had said that.

“In the eyes of a twenty year old, you were wasting the gift,” Daniel says from the couch. Louis is standing near the window, but he turns to face Daniel. At least that’s what Daniel thinks, until he hears footsteps and Armand is standing with his ipad clutched in his hands. The two look at each other a moment as Louis moves to sit across from Daniel.

“I’d give it to you now.”

What kind of game is Louis playing?

Daniel decides to call his bluff. “Yeah? Give it to me.”

Louis slides his gaze back to Armand, who Daniel refuses to look toward. They’re probably just trying to gauge if he’s still interested.

“You don’t mean that,” Louis says.

“Yeah well, your offer was bullshit,” Daniel says and looks over at Armand. “If you want to know if I still want it, you could just ask.”

Armand is very still and his gaze is intense. “Do you still want it?”

The idea of living forever would be unappealing, before he remembered. Because living forever alone was something entirely different than spending an eternity with these two. And that isn’t even a possibility Daniel wants to consider. “Haven’t thought about it.”

“You should,” Louis says.

Daniel glances between the two. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing, Daniel,” says Louis, all innocence. Daniel doesn’t buy it for a second.

“Let’s get back to the story,” Daniel says, feeling impatient. He isn’t getting anything else out of these two, so might as well focus on work.

Armand eyes Louis for a long moment, then turns and walks away.

Louis talks about considering suicide, choosing not to because he didn’t want to spoil Claudia’s escape. He talks about it a little too casually for Daniel’s liking, to be honest. He tells of Claudia coming back, of Lestat forcing her back.

Daniel is beginning to understand why Claudia is haunting Louis. He chose this asshole over her, again and again.

Listening to Louis becomes difficult. Daniel keeps losing focus and his eyelids are heavy. He thinks he hears something about killing Lestat, but he can’t be sure. He drifts off against his will.

Then Daniel is on the balcony with Armand and Armand is mouthing over his neck again, fangs dragging over his skin. Daniel craves it.

He pulls Armand’s head up and makes eye contact. Armand’s eyes almost seem to glow in the starlight. Before Daniel can speak, Armand closes the distance between them and kisses him.

It’s a good kiss. All consuming and devouring. Daniel feels weak in the knees by the end of it.

“I’m not doing this,” he says, putting a hand on Armand’s shoulder to push him back.

Armand catches the hand and holds it between both of his. “It’s only a dream, Daniel. You can do anything you want.”

Suddenly, the world around them changes and they’re in a hotel room. Daniel can barely make out the details of the world around them, things seem fuzzy around the edges. The one thing that does stand out is the massive, round bed with its gleaming white sheets. Daniel knows the thread count on them is insane.

He vaguely recognizes this place. It’s in Egypt. Armand had taken him to see the pyramids. They stayed in fine hotels and Daniel ate the finest food. Armand had taken him shopping and bought him clothes in the fashion of the young men at the time. It was a good time.

Daniel sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re getting sloppy in your old age. You used to be able to make dreams that felt real.”

He’s talking shit, but the bed feels soft and tangible under him. Aside from the disorienting visual, everything seemed real.

Armand’s mouth quirks slightly. “We were more connected, you and I. We had the blood between us.”

He moves to Daniel and slips between the vee of his legs. His arms drape over Daniel’s shoulders. “We could have it again, Daniel. Do you remember how it felt to have my teeth inside you? Do you remember how you would moan? How you would beg for it?”

Daniel’s breath catches. “Stop it.”

“Why; am I provoking a reaction?” Armand says and brings a hand down between Daniel’s legs to cup the growing bulge. Daniel gasps and grabs his hand, shoving it away.

Armand presses their mouths together. His lips move against his and he sucks on Daniel’s bottom lip, biting at it. Daniel sucks in a breath and Armand’s tongue is slipping inside his mouth. Armand kisses him with the same intensity he would if they were in the middle of fucking.

Daniel doesn’t know how it happens, but he finds himself flat on his back with Armand on top of him. Armand keeps kissing him like he invented sin. God, he forgot how good Armand is at this.

Armand’s mouth leaves his and goes to his neck to kiss and suck. He bites down with blunt teeth and Daniel lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine. Armand chuckles against his throat. “Would you like me to bite you, Daniel?”

God, yes.

Daniel takes a shaky breath. “Would it even do anything for you like this?”

“Not in the way you’re thinking,” Armand says, and licks over his pulse point. Daniel has to hold back a moan. “But I can recreate the feeling for you from your memories. If you’d like to experience it again.”

Daniel searches his brain. “It would help the story, to understand how it felt from a first hand perspective.”

“So it’s only journalistic curiosity?” Armand teases.

“I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

Armand noses along his throat. “But we both know you will, Daniel.” His voice is soft and silken, and Daniel hates how it turns him on. Armand finds his pulse again and sucks at it harshly. Daniel’s legs spread of their own accord and he moans, tossing his head back.

Fangs scrape against his neck and Daniel shudders. Armand’s hand comes and undoes his fly and rubs him over his boxers. He kisses the hollow of Daniel’s throat. “You have to ask for it if you want it, lover.”

“Give it to me, you fucking prick,” Daniel says, but it doesn’t sound nearly as forceful as he intended. He’s too busy taking ragged little breaths while a wet spot spreads on his underwear.

“That isn’t very nice, Daniel,” Armand says and sucks at his throat. He worries the skin between blunt teeth until Daniel buries a hand in his hair and moans. “How can I believe you want it, when you can’t even ask for it nicely?”

Shame fills Daniel and his cheeks burn red. “I want it, damn you. I want it.”

“Good boy,” Armand praises. His hand slips inside Daniel’s underwear the same time his fangs penetrate Daniel’s neck. Daniel cries out wordlessly and rocks his hips up to meet Armand’s hand. The suction on his neck is hot and sweet and perfect. Pleasure is thrumming through his whole body and he feels like he’s floating.

Armand drinks and drinks, longer than he ever has in real life. But of course, he can’t pass out here, he isn’t actually losing blood. It feels fucking amazing. Armand’s hand around him feels amazing. Everything feels amazing, is amazing.

The hand around him tightens and moves faster and Daniel lets out a whimper, toes beginning to curl. He’s close, so close.

Armand’s teeth leave his neck and his mouth comes to rest by Daniel’s ear. “Are you close, my love? Be a good boy and finish for me, darling. I want to see you, my beautiful boy.”

Daniel buries his face in Armand’s shoulder and gasps out his name as he comes. It lasts ages and ages, and it’s so, so good.

The orgasm jolts him awake, his back arching and his trapped dick splashing come inside his boxers. Fucking hell. He hasn’t came in his sleep since he was a horny teenager. Daniel gets up and gets a shower and crawls into his actual bed to sleep.

Before he drifts off, he hears Armand’s voice in his head.

“Anytime you want more than a dream, Daniel, I’m here.”

Daniel doesn’t say anything back at all.

#iwtv fic

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kaylee-and-niamh-and-azrael-too · 8 months

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I’ve taken a break from my astarion x tav piece as I’m up to doing the hair, which I’m having a really hard time with so I’ve decided to put it on the back burner until I get my new iPad in a couple of weeks. In the meantime I’ve been working on my half-baked backup DND character since playing a version of her in BG3 got me invested. I finished her backstory the other night and then decided to draw her for my character sheet. And OMG YOU GUYS, I love her so much. If I didn’t also love my current character heaps too I’d totally just drop her and bring in this one in next session. She’s not perfect, and still unfinished, but I’m pretty happy with how she’s turned out considering she’s purely out of my imagination and only my second attempt at self-teaching this medium of drawing.

Azrael, my 250 year old, chaotic neutral Dhampir Wild Magic Sorcerer.

Backstory below the cut as it's long.

When Azrael’s mum was 8 months pregnant she was attacked on her way home one night. She managed to get away but not without sustaining an injury to her neck. The following morning her husband took her to a healer at their church (Pelor). On the way there Azrael’s mum went into labour. When they arrived the healers took one look at the wound on her neck and her labour and whisked her away. The labour was long and difficult. The High Priest was called in to perform a blessing ritual. Azraels mum died during the ritual. Once Azrael was born her father was brought in to meet her. It was explained to him that his wife had been attacked by a vampire, the ritual to try and cleanse the child had resulted in his wife’s death, and they had to wait and see if the child would even survive, let alone if the ritual had worked. He took one look at his baby girl, pale and death-like, and walked away without a word. He never returned.

Azrael was raised in the churches orphanage. She was never told the circumstances of her birth and abandonment. While growing up Azrael noticed that some of the sisters were quite standoff-ish with her. It was also at about this time that she noticed she had innate magical abilities, but hid this as much as she could as she didn’t want to give even more of her caregivers reason to dislike her.

One night she overheard two sisters talking quite nastily about her and they mentioned something that led her to break into the churches records and there she learned the truth about herself. She also learned that if she were to show any signs of vampirism that she was to be killed. That same night she packed her belongings and left. She was about 12 or 13 years old.

She lived on the streets begging for scraps for the following years. A woman named Heather would be kind to Azrael whenever she saw her, giving her food, some coin or a roof over her head during rough nights. When Azrael was about 17 or 18 years old she realised that she could use her looks to her advantage and began working in an establishment owned by Heather. She quickly became a popular attraction with both men and women due to her delicate and exotic appearance.

One night a client became rough with her and, after going into a blind rage when Azrael refused to become his exclusive companion, attempted to kill her. In the heat of the scuffle Azrael instinctually bit into his neck and drained him completely. Terrified by what had just happened and her own actions she sat frozen in place and that is where Heather found her when she came to investigate the sounds. Shaking in the corner with blood dribbling from the corners of her mouth and a pale body slumped on the floor a few feet from her. Heather helped Azrael get cleaned up and dispose of the body. She came clean to Heather about all she had learned at the orphanage. Heather agreed to help her and together they went about trying to learn more about what Azrael was being neither full vampire, as she could walk in the sun and had a heartbeat, nor full elf.

For years following Azrael continued to sell herself, but would also help Heather out with violent clients, making them disappear and feed her hunger at the same time. Eventually the authorities started getting suspicious of the people that had gone missing and began sniffing around. Heather assisted Azraels escape before they got too close.

Since then Azrael has spent her life travelling from town to town, never staying in one place for too long for fear of getting recognised for what she is. She continues to sell her body for the right amount, whether that be she needs coin or she needs information, or killing monsters for coin. In her journey she has also been trying to learn more about herself and where she came from, hunt the one who did this to her, and find and confront her father.

As she had been suppressing her magical abilities for so long and has now begun to try harnessing them, they have a tendency to burst out in strange and unexpected ways at times.

Azrael still occasionionally travels back to the one place that feels like home and helps Heather, the closest person she has to a mother, out while she’s there.

#dnd character #dnd charcter art #dnd character backstory #my art #dhampir #wild magic sorcerer #dnd art #dnd oc #dnd #dungeons and dragons

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blackrosesfanfic · 2 years

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Chapter 252

Cammie

I start to walk back out the room then sigh walking into the room. Hidila ass just sitting here crying. She was crying before I got in the shower. I figured the bitch was okay after she stopped crying the first time. I fall on top of her. She sucks her teeth pushing me to her feet. I lay on her legs and watch TV. I would fucking kill Lane if he put me through this. Well now Caden. But he has to get on my nerves somehow and I think he gonna be talkative. More so than Lane.

"Did they turn the thing off?" I say looking at the baby monitor.

"No, they are just playing separately. Lane is mad at Ike. He sighed like a grown stressed out man and walked away. He is Marco."

I smile. "Why you crying this time?"

She wipes her face. "He is with some girl and think I don't know."

"And we being okay with that? Since when?"

"It's not like I'm not giving him reasons to cheat. We haven't had sex in so long. I'm always gone or got some excuse."

I cut my eyes at her. "Who gives a fuck? Your marriage vows didn't say shit about if no sex fuck random bitches."

"I keep thinking what if he has a baby by one of those girls and the baby comes out talking and walking like normal kids. He'll probably leave me."

"I'm missing something." I sit up. "Why don't you just have his baby first?"

She starts crying all ugly and loud. She sucks it up. "And have another mute child!"

"That boy just needs his ass whooped. He fucking spoiled."

"They have been saying that violence won't help. It will just scare him more."

"I don't give a fuck if he gets scared at least his ass will talk. Scare some fucking words out his mouth. You won't me to beat his ass?"

Trey walks into the room. "Jay, what's this?"

I lay back on Hidila. "It's a nasty juice from the gym."

"He's not autistic. He does excellent on all his school stuff. He has friends from his speech classes. I even tried regular school but that stressed him out and had him doing bad in school."

"Oh." Trey says walking out. "Hold on."

"Well only thing you haven't tried is spanking his ass. You are going to be divorced and crying everyday and his ass gonna be fucking depressed too. Really not gonna fucking talk then."

"Thanks. You so positive."

Trey walks back in. "I put it on the iPad."

He hands Hidila the iPad. I sit up so I could see the screen. Someone was screaming really loud. I watch as the camera lands on Lane and Ike. Lane laughs like he was being tickled by millions of hands. I smile. He such a happy kid. All of a sudden the screaming starts again. I snatch the iPad and take it back.

"That's Ike!" I say staring at his mouth.

"I just don't understand." Hidila cries. "And laughing."

Lane was having a blast laughing at Ike then Trey. Suddenly the laughing stops and Lane and Ike start arguing. I close my mouth when Hidila snatches the iPad from me. Ike was talking clear as day. He cuts his eyes at the camera then he starts mumbling.

"What does he fucking mean he don't want to?" I snap outraged. "Lane!"

"He would talk to Lane just as good but not me." Trey says. "He must have forgot I was there."

I roll my eyes. "Or he needs a fucking beating. Talking about he not scared. What the fuck you mean? Spoiled. I wish my child would."

"But he's not your child." Hidila snaps.

"Clearly." I stand up off the couch. "Lane!"

He runs into the room. "I here."

"Are you being mean to Ike?" I bark.

"No."

"Why don't Ike want to talk?" I ask him.

He is in Hidila's face. "What the matter?"

She wipes her face unable to get her shit together. She shakes her head.

"Lane, why won't Ike talk to me?" I try to ask another way.

"You sad?" He says a little upset.

I suck my teeth. "She is sad because Ike doesn't want to talk to her. It makes her sad. Why doesn't Ike want to talk to her?"

"I get Ike." He runs away with a sad look on his face.

I blow. "He ignored the shit out of me."

Trey picks the monitor up. "Or did he pay attention to the right thing?"

"Ike, you mean!" Lane snaps.

"No I not!" He snaps throwing his toy.

Lane wasn't giving a shit. "You is! You mommy cry. Like Taden. You mommy crying."

"No her not."

"You did it! You mean!"

Ike matches out of the room. A few minutes later he matches into the room we are in. He freezes. Lane pushes him walking pass him to Hidila. He points at her.

"You see?"

Ike stomps his foot clearly upset. I look at Trey. He was frowning up his face like Lane. I swear they so much alike. Ike matches over to his mama then falls into her lap crying suddenly.

"Oh don't cry baby." She says standing him up. "I'm sorry. I'll stop crying. Please don't cry."

"You sad?" Lane asks touching her arm that's on Ike.

She tries but fails. "I just cry when you don't talk to me. I heard you talking to Lane and I just want you to talk to me. Not all the time. I just want to hear your voice talking to me. Just some times. Like you talk to Lane." She cries making every fucking body cry.

Lane nods his head. "Say yes maam."

"Yes maam." Ike whispers.

I cover my mouth to stop from screaming. She just stares at him crying. She hugs him then kisses Lane. Lane stands there pouting. He did such a good job. He doesn't even know what he has done. He just was fussing at Ike for making his mommy cry. He didn't know what it meant to her. He didn't know how much he helped.

"Stop crying." Lane snaps. "Say sorry, Ike. Say it!"

"No." Ike snaps hiding his face.

"You betta. I tell Nanma on you." He turns and runs out of the room.

He had enough. Trey grabs my waist pulling me. I look at him. He turns the monitor off and sits it down pulling me again. I walk with him out of the room. Yeah he is right. They do need their moment. At least he said something to her. He may not talk for months but he fucking answered her like Lane told him to. That's probably why he started to talk to Lane because he was so fucking bossy and didn't understand why Ike wouldn't talk.

Trey

"Nigga calm down. Say what?" I snap walking into the empty studio.

"I'm sick of this shit. One minute we getting somewhere and the next minute she treating me like her dog. No fucking emotions. Fake ass hell." He catches his breath but before I could talk he starts back talking. "I always wondered why she couldn't keep a fucking man. If this how her ass treated him then I fucking know why. Hell if Imma be that nigga. You know how many bitches wanna have my baby?"

I cut him off before he starts again. "Nigga fuck how many bitches wanna have your baby. Focus on the one having your baby. It's already being made nigga. The little toes and little nose. They even born with fucking sex organs. That's creepy. Just a bit."

He sucks his teeth. "Sex organs?"

"Tiny little weiners." I laugh. "Hopefully you have a boy this time."

"Yeah but I can't be excited."

"Chris she is pregnant. She gonna have good days and fucking bad days. She can't help that shit. Do you not remember my fucking wife pregnant? Fucking MiMi pregnant? Lane knew the fucking deal. He was so damn whiny when she was pregnant."

"Your little dick ass son still whiny."

I laugh. At least I got him calm. "That's not the point."

"I should have done this high." Chris blows.

"Naw, stupidness." I shake my head. "As long as you did it in public they gonna act discreet. Won't be like if you were home. It'll be cool."

The door opens. "Why you in here in the dark talking on the phone?"

"Minding my business." I say to MiMi.

"Yeah, okay." She picks up a blanket walking back out.

"Who that?" Chris asks.

I sigh as the door opens back up. Lane walks in the door as it is being held open.

"It dark." He says going for the light.

"Why you sitting in the dark?" Cammie asks after Lane turns the light on.

I hold the phone up. "Talking to Chris."

"In the dark?"

"Chris say hey." I turn it on speaker.

"Cammie, I'm bout to go to this dinner." He sighs. "I wanna walk away."

Cammie sucks her teeth. "Walk away from what? You can't say no shit like that to me. I'm bout to start acting like it's January 4 years ago."

"Four years ago? I ain't walk..."

"She talking bout our situation with Lane."

Chris sucks his teeth. "I ain't walking away from her, just this dinner. She saying some shit that got me thinking but I ain't leaving my baby. I love my kids."

"Well walking away from something that is important to her is the same as walking away from her. How would you feel if your overbearing never satisfied parents were about to find out you pregnant and not married? And pregnant by America's bad boy? They gonna fuss at her. How she feeling?"

"Aight Cammie. Damn."

Cammie shrugs walking back out. "Yall really need to talk before the dinner. Maybe cancel it. Do it at a later time."

"They might find out before that. If Royalty finds out it's gonna be everywhere. Immediately. I mean she just a baby but her mama. My exes. Social media love finding my shit. I'm not you and Trey."

"That's fine. Talk now then. She done working?"

He sucks his teeth again. "She was acting distant I left."

"Christopher." Cammie sucks her teeth. "You got to fight back. Stop running before you forget what you want and where you want it to go. It's easy to walk away from someone who being a bitch but it's temporary. You figure out if she worth it. Cause loving the baby clearly ain't the problem for you."

"Aight bye."

"Christophluwall?"

He mumbles something. "Imma talk to her now."

"She loves you!"

"Bye." He says hanging up.

Cammie points at me. "I'm not gonna take you hiding in dark rooms whispering sweet nothings to Chris. Let him be his own man."

"I got to help."

"You fixed your shit at home yet?"

I frown. "Did I not?"

"Did we talk?"

I blow. "No."

"Okay then."

Lane looks at me with his face balled up. He hunches his little shoulders and points at me. Imma beat his grown little ass. He follows behind Cammie as she walks out. Cammie always calling people shit out. We haven't had a chance to talk. It's hard with a house full of people and children everywhere. I wish I could go back in time and have the time Chris fucking up. Me and Cammie going to tell her disappointed parents that she pregnant and not married. My poor wife had to deal with this alone. She had to tell her parents alone. Shit she had to tell them that the father wasn't in her or the baby's life. How disappointed were they? Damn. I wish I was there for her. But I can't turn back the hands of time. So caught up in my shit I never sat down with her parents like I'm marrying your daughter. I did everything wrong. He in such a better place and doesn't appreciate it. But my wife right. I got to fix my shit first.

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