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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 3 years

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Childhood

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

+ This Game of Ours

Jason’s eyes snapped open at a sound that no human should be able to hear.

Ever since he’d been resurrected from the Lazarus pit, his senses had grown abnormally acute – amongst other strange things.

Sometimes he swore he could even hear Y/N’s heartbeat. It was easiest to do with her, after all he was so intone with her very being.

But all of that made nearly impossible for anyone to sneak up on him – let alone in his own home. Which someone was. He could feel it.

Jason’s eyes glanced down at Y/N, who was sound asleep on his chest.

Ever so carefully, he lifted her body off of him so he could slip out of bed.

But Y/N was a light sleeper, unfortunately. She must’ve inherited that from Bruce, even though she wasn’t even raised by the man.

Y/N winced as her eyes opened just in time to see Jason grabbing one of his hidden guns from below their bed frame.

“What’s going on?” Her voice raspy.

“Nothing,” Jason lied. “Stay here.”

Now that she found out about another hidden gun in their apartment, Jason knew he was going to return to a lecture from Y/N. She never hid her hatred for guns, and had asked him to keep them out of their apartment.

“Jason…” Y/N whispered desperately, now more awake and concerned.

“Stay here,” Jason said, more firmly this time.

Then he quickly kissed her, leaving even less room for her to argue.

In only his black boxer briefs, Jason snuck out of their bedroom and into the living room without making any sound. Y/N had always been shocked at how quiet her giant boyfriend could make himself.

Just as Jason raised his gun, he heard the familiar voice.

“Put some clothes on, Todd.”

Damian stepped out of the shadows.

To Jason’s surprise, he was in civilian clothes and not in his Robin uniform.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, breaking in like that?” Jason reprimanded as he uncocked the gun.

But before Damian could defend himself, the bedroom door squeaked open and Y/N was rushing out into the living room.

“I told you to stay there,” Jason growled.

Y/N rolled her eyes at her boyfriend’s overprotectiveness. “Obviously I recognized Damian’s voice, Jason.”

Then Y/N looked at her half-brother for a second and quickly realized Damian had come there for a reason.

“Everything alright, Damian?” She asked carefully.

“Yes,” he lied.

Jason remembered when Damian despised Y/N. He saw her as a threat to his claim to the Wayne throne. But Y/N had immediately made her intentions clear. “I have my own reputation, money, and career that I built without a name attached to me. I want nothing to do with Wayne Enterprises,” she had told Damian as soon as she realized he saw her as some sort of competition.

It took Damian months to even acknowledge Y/N. And he really only did because both his father and Dick – basically his surrogate father – scolded him for not doing so.

Slowly but surely, the two grew closer.

Y/N didn’t put up with Damian’s attitude. But she also didn’t scold him like a child. If he was rude or aggressive, she spoke to him the same way she would speak to a grown man who behaved in such a manner. Somehow it made the boy slowly start to respect her more.

Eventually, they bonded over their mutual love of the arts. Damian was impressed with her photographs, while Y/N was honored whenever Damian decided to share his drawings with her. Y/N had gifted Damian his first camera. And Damian once gave her a few lessons on the basics of sketching and painting.

Who knew Waynes were the creative type?

And it was when Damian’s pets all seemed to be obsessed with Y/N that the boy finally decided to get over his original opinions and feelings.

It was by no means a short or easy battle. But the rest of the family was relieved when Damian finally accepted Y/N as one of their own.

“How about I make us some hot chocolate?” Y/N offered Damian.

The boy just shrugged, but she noticed his eyes subtly light up.

She never understood why he refused to let himself feel joy in the simple things. It was like she could catch him stopping himself from being a kid.

“I’m going to bed,” Jason announced with exhaustion.

It was clear to him that Damian came to see his sister, not him. And he was nice enough to leave the two of them alone. Even though he was a bit bitter that his girlfriend was being stolen from their bed.

Before turning back to the bedroom, Jason invaded Y/N’s space and gently grabbed her jaw before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“Gross,” Damian groaned.

Jason glared and pointed at the boy. “You’re in our apartment, demon spawn. I’ll kiss my girlfriend if I fuckin’ want to.”

Y/N just laughed as she watched Jason close their bedroom door behind him.

“Come on,” she nudged her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Let’s make some hot chocolate. I think I have some of Alfred’s cookies hiding somewhere, too.”

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Damian mumbled.

Y/N smirked and shook her head. Tonight, she wasn’t taking the bait.

Once Damian decided he didn’t hate Y/N, he jumped right to making it known that he did not think Jason was good enough for her. But she knew it was an act – mostly.

“Why aren’t you on patrol?” She asked casually once they had giant mugs of hot chocolate and cookies in front of them, making sure to give the boy extra marshmallows.

“I’m grounded,” Damian muttered.

Y/N tilted her head. “Grounded?”

It seemed like a far too normal concept for a family of vigilantes.

“Yes,” Damian confirmed.

“I’m guessing that means Bruce and Alfred don’t know you’re here…?”

“I snuck out,” he admitted.

“Why did you get grounded?”

“Father found out I was skipping school. And then that I skipped the school dance.”

“Why does it matter if you skipped the dance?” She asked, clearly confused.

Y/N was also struggling to imagine Bruce caring about such a trivial thing like that.

“Father wishes for me to have normal experiences that young man of my age is expected to have,” Damian said with a roll of his eyes.

“School dances are lame,” Y/N commented.

Damian sat up straighter, not expecting that to be her response.

“I skipped prom. I didn’t want to go,” she added.

“Why not?” The boy challenge, somewhat caught off guard by that.

Y/N shrugged. “Bad music. Bad dancing. Tacky dresses. Just wasn’t all that appealing to angsty, teenage me.”

Damian just nodded slowly, and then got quiet.

“I have no desire to be normal,” he finally stated after a few minutes.

“I’m not taking his side, but I get why Bruce wants you to do these things, Damian. You were robbed of a lot of things because of the way you were raised. I’m not saying that it’s bad or good. But I think Bruce just wants to give you the opportunity to experience the life of a – well...of a kid.”

“And was your life normal?” Damian quickly asked.

Y/N nodded. “So normal that it was boring.” She laughed, “My entire life was normal until I met all of you weirdos.”

That got a smile out of Damian.

But then it slowly dropped and he seemed to get lost in his head.

“I don’t…I don’t have any friends,” Damian finally whimpered.

Y/N was shocked by the boy’s emotion.

Damian was always composed.

“It’s like they speak a different language. And it’s one I can never learn.”

“Oh, Damian,” Y/N sighed as she rushed from her seat to kneel beside him. “I know it must be hard to try and fit in. But you’re not doing anything wrong. None of that’s your fault.”

“Father is more than aware that I don’t need the education,” Damian’s voice shook as he tried not to cry. “He only forces me to attend so I can make friends. And that is one thing I am unable to do.”

Y/N let him breathe and have an opportunity to continue before she spoke again.

“I hate school, so I skip. And the school dance seemed so ridiculous to me, so I skipped that too – even after father specifically requested that I attend.”

Y/N sighed, “And did you tell him how you’re feeling when he grounded you?”

Damian shook his head no.

She hadn’t expected anything different. She could easily imagine Damian lashing out at Bruce when he received his punishment, saying that the requests were a waste of his time and beneath him.

Damian was good at hiding his emotional pain – maybe even better than their father.

Y/N was sure Bruce didn’t have a true understanding of what Damian was going through.

“Can I stay here tonight?” Damian asked.

“Of course,” she gave him a sad smile. “How about we take this hot chocolate to the couch and watch a movie?”

Damian shrugged. But it wasn’t a no.

Y/N let him pick the movie.

He chose Fantasia.

When Y/N didn’t hide her surprise, he explained that he respected the animation and loved all of the classical music. Even when they did a child-like activity, he still always found way to remind the world that he was no normal child.

An hour later, both of them had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still playing.

When Damian felt another presence, he awoke with a jolt and grabbed his hidden knife, holding it to the throat of the intruder.

But it was Jason, gently bringing Y/N’s sleeping body into his arms.

“Once again, demon spawn, you’re in our apartment,” Jason hissed with annoyance.

The man was completely unfazed by the feeling of a blade threatening to slit his throat.

Damian huffed.

“I’m taking her to bed,” Jason explained the obvious. Then he nudged his head at the love-seat across from Damian. “There’s a blanket right there if you want to sleep on the couch. Or you can sleep in the guest bedroom.”

But Jason paused, with Y/N sleeping in his arms, as he noticed a strange look on Damian’s face.

“What?” He urged.

“If you ever hurt her, I’ll kill you myself,” Damian growled softly.

Jason looked utterly unimpressed. “You’d have to get in line,” he answered, making sure to keep his voice quiet to prevent waking Y/N.

But then Jason’s face softened. “Look, kid, I think you know that she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. I’d die before doing anything to mess this up.”

“Hmph,” was the only noise Damian made in response.

Jason rolled his eyes and carried Y/N back to their bedroom.

In all honesty, he couldn’t fall asleep while she had been in with Damian. With Jason’s weird enhanced hearing because of the pit, he was able to catch a bit of their conversation.

Jason softly place Y/N back in bed and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. When he joined her on the other side of the bed, she didn’t even wake as she slid back into his arms.

Now Jason could finally go to sleep.

When there was a knock on the apartment door the next morning, Damian and Y/N shared a look.

“I’ll get it,” Y/N sighed.

Jason had made all three of them breakfast that morning.

But now Damian pushed the food around his plate, knowing this was the end of his small rebellion. Who knew what his new punishment would be?

Y/N opened the door to unsurprisingly find her father.

Bruce was wearing a full suit, despite it being a Sunday morning. On top was a heavy, black overcoat with the back of the collar slightly propped up.

“You could have least told me he was here,” Bruce greeted his daughter.

She smirked mischievously and shrugged. “I’m no snitch.”

Damian appeared behind Y/N, not seeing the point in dragging this out any longer than necessary.

“Alfred’s downstairs with the car,” Bruce told his son evenly.

The disappointment in both his expression and tone was obvious.

Damian looked up at Y/N. “Thank you for having me, Y/N.”

“Next time, use the actual door so you don’t give me or Jason a heart attack.”

Damian smiled at that before walking past his father and down the hallway.

“Can I talk to you a second?” Y/N asked Bruce.

Her father seemed surprised by the request, but nodded anyways and closed the door behind him.

“I think Damian is really struggling – more than you think, I mean.”

Bruce’s brow furrowed and he crossed his arms. “He hasn’t even been remotely injured from patrols in months…”

“No, Bruce,” she quickly cut off. “Not as Robin. As Damian.”

Bruce was quiet.

“He doesn’t know how to fit in, Bruce. And you’re putting a lot of pressure on him to live a normal life. Bu he’s never gonna have normal. That was taken away from him before you even knew he existed.”

“He said that to you?” Bruce asked.

She nodded. “In so few words, yes.”

“And I’m assuming you have some advice,” he quirked a brow.

“Well, yeah. Maybe you should just homeschool him.”

“Y/N, the whole point of him going to school is to be around kids his own age. We both know the education is beneath him already.”

“But that’s the thing, Bruce. He’s never going to relate to any of those kids. Going to school makes him feel like a freak. Let him get homeschooled.”

“He needs to learn to make friends,” Bruce argued.

“You’re right. He does. But not with the spoiled brats of Gotham Academy. How many superheroes are you friends with?”

“He doesn’t consider them friends!” Jason shouted from the kitchen.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine. How many superheroes are you acquainted with, who have kids around Damian’s age?”

Bruce’s jaw tightened.

“I know you like to keep your personal life away from Batman. But those are the only kids that Damian is ever going to relate to in some way. Do you get what I’m saying?”

To her surprise, Bruce nodded. “You’re right.”

Her brows shot up. “I am?”

Y/N had really expected him to fight her on this.

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you are. Out of everyone in this family, you are the only one who can say they had any semblance of a normal childhood.”

Suddenly his phone dinged and he glanced down at it.

“I have to go,” he regretfully told her.

When he looked back up at her, his face softened. “Come to the manor soon for dinner,” he asked her gently.

She gave him a soft smile and nodded, “I will.”

Bruce nodded in the direction of the kitchen where Jason was hiding. “And bring that one with you, will you?”

Y/N laughed. “He’ll go wherever I go. He’s like a puppy, that one.”

“I can hear you!” Jason called out.

Bruce laughed and stepped forward to give Y/N a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for looking out for Damian, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Bruce.”

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#jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #father of mine bonus content #Father of Mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #damian wayne x sister!reader #batboys #batfam #batman family #batsis #batfam x batsis

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undine-taz · 3 years

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5 times Diavolo failed to be a sugar daddy and one time he succeeded

I'm just imagining poor Diavolo trying SO HARD to spoil an MC who is just. Not greedy in the slightest and loves weird little shinies while being totally indifferent to the super crazy expensive gifts he usually gives to people he's trying to woo. Just in case, this is the PUREST OF FLUFF and completely sfw. I can’t even think of any tw to tag??? Let me know if you notice something. Oh, and MC is imagined to be gender neutral. There’s a mention of perfume, but not in the feminine sense- that’s just the proper word for a certain level of scent concentration.

1. Expensive Perfume

Diavolo's first attempt is the most expensive perfume/cologne money can buy

He's not quite sure what MC's favorite scent is, so he buys a wide variety

All the bottles are sleek and minimalistic and the scents inside are VERY obviously expensive, the kind of thing Mammon would probably lose his mind over

MC's reaction is perfectly grateful, they say sincerely how much they appreciate him thinking of them. He doesn't feel a single lie off of them and he walks away mostly satisfied thinking maybe they’re just the type to not show a ton of excitement over gifts

That is, until he's walking down the hallways in RAD and happens to overhear a conversation between Asmo and MC

Asmo's talking about how he's been going through perfume at a record pace lately, and he feel so bad about wasting these beautiful bottles... would MC like them? He has one shaped like a rose, one like a star, one modeled after the cosmos...

Asmo doesn't even get to finish because MC is already flapping their hands in joy (I'm autistic and MC is going to happy stim if it kills me) and wiggling and practically jumping into Asmo's arms in excitement

Asmo's laughing and promising to save all of his prettiest empty perfume bottles for MC from now on and MC is practically wiggling in joy and nuzzling their face into Asmo's chest in happiness

They’re talking about spending the night in Asmo’s room trying to make perfume blends for each other to fill up the bottles and tossing scent ideas back and forth

And Diavolo is sitting there feeling a bit like he's been bonked over the head. Those happy stims are ADORABLE and he wants to be the one who causes them. He's not sure why his perfume failed and Asmo's literal empty bottles worked but he's DETERMINED to try again

2. Fancy gemstones

Diavolo's next attempt is fancy gemstones. He finds large, beautifully cut and processed gemstones, the type that are so perfectly processed they look almost identical except for color

Again, when he gives MC his gifts he can tell that they're sincerely grateful! They tell him they love that he was thinking of them, they worry that he spent too much money on them ( they try to refuse at first because it's too much, but Diavolo breezes past their protests with a smile and an iron will) and Diavolo doesn't sense even the tiniest hint of untruth from their professions of gratitude

But.... there are no happy wiggles, no stunned gasps, no joyously flapping hands, no nothing. Just calm gratitude.

Diavolo goes back to the drawing board, and he's just going to visit the HOL library for inspiration in a rare book (and as an excuse to see MC) when he hears Satan and MC laughing together in the library.

When he walks in, he sees Satan and MC crouched together with some strange tools in their hands, gently chipping away at a large rock. There's a tiny pile of uncut, unprocessed gemstones at MC's elbow.

As soon as MC sees him, he's aflood in a wash of excited chatter as MC tells him about the gemstone mining kit Satan bought after reading a book on gemstones. In fact Diavolo can see the book open at Satan's elbow along with a notebook where the two have been identifying every gemstone they dig up.

Before he knows it, MC seizes his hand and he's drawn into the game, watching their eyes shine and seeing them bounce in their seat with excitement every time they uncover a new gemstone.

Dammit. Another failure. But, Diavolo finds as he watches MC's obvious joy, he can't be too frustrated when they're this happy.

3. Shopping spree at Majolish

Diavolo is undeterred! He takes a day to bring them to Majolish, having them try on outfit after outfit. Sure, they're not picking out very many things, but he loves spending time with them and they say they're enjoying themself.

After several hours, Barbatos gently reminds him that he has a meeting soon and that MC seems absolutely exhausted.

Diavolo pouts, especially when he sees that MC hasn't picked out very many things, but he sighs and concedes.

When he drops them off at the HOL, MC gives him a hug and thanks him for helping them pick out some more formal outfits for any upcoming RAD events. Diavolo accepts the hug gladly, but there's no squeaking or jumping and DEFINITELY no flapping. MC seems rather exhausted, and Belphegor has appeared from nowhere and draped himself over MC and is mumbling about needing a nap buddy and MC isn't even trying to argue

The next day, Barbatos shows him Levi's post on Devilgram. It's a video, of Levi giving MC a plain, unassuming box.

When MC opens the box, their mouth drops open, their eyes go wide, and they fling themselves at Levi, happily nuzzling into his chest and mumbling incoherent thanks while Levi turns bright red and starts stuttering and clearly tries not to combust

The video cuts out for a second and then starts again with MC wearing a simple shirt embroidered with a strange logo, which Levi explains from behind the camera is inspired by MC's favorite series and was handmade by Levi for practice. Levi was apparently asked to design formalwear inspired by anime, and he chose MC's favorite to practice a design. According to the caption, the two spent an entire day together watching the series and sketching ideas!

MC is beaming and happy stimming while Diavolo thumps his head into his desk dramatically and Barbatos elegantly stifles a chuckle behind him.

4. Bouquets of flowers

Well now Diavolo is determined. HE WILL MAKE MC HAPPY STIM IF IT KILLS HIM

HE HAS HIS PRIDE AS THE FUTURE DEMON KING DAMMIT

He begins watching the corniest of romcoms for ideas.

Midway into one of them, he sees the character buy their love interest bouquets upon bouquets of roses

BRILLIANT! He's up and placing orders immediately. Barbatos stays behind for a few minutes to actually watch how this particular ploy works out on screen, before laughing and going to watch the chaos

As dedicated as he is to the young lord, watching Diavolo scramble around trying to impress his first puppy love only to fail because the target of his affections is simply too humble.... well, it's honestly adorable. He'll step in if it goes on for too long, but for now it might actually be good for the young master to experience something he can't have by throwing money or influence at it.

Diavolo has some of the Devildom's finest florists on the horn and he's sending a veritable flood of their finest cut flowers... AND he's sending them from an anonymous source, just like in the movie! The woman in the movie only sent over THREE bouquets to the object of her love, so Diavolo sends 300. Only the best for his MC :)

He's waiting impatiently for the results of his little scheme when he gets an apologetic text from Lucifer saying that he'll be late to the meeting and MC won't be coming at all. Some anonymous admirer sent MC an excessive amount of flowers and the sheer amount of pollen triggered allergies in ALL of the demon bros and MC.

Lucifer needed time to clear out the house and distribute allergy meds to everyone and buy out the nearest store on tissue paper

Barbatos is no longer even bothering to stifle his chuckles while Diavolo buries his face in his arms to hide his shame

To rub salt in the wound, Lucifer tells him a few days later that he set up a miniature greenhouse for MC to grow humanworld herbs in and they've barely left it in the last two days

Lucifer’s been spending most of his free time in the greenhouse with them, helping them tinker with humidity spells and listening to their excited monologues on human gardening techniques

Lucifer is definitely smirking as he tells Diavolo this and Diavolo doesn't bother to ask how Lucifer knew what was going on, because his old friend knows him too well and Diavolo realizes he's not exactly subtle.

What he doesn't realize is that Barbatos is also a dirty dirty snitch and he and Lucifer have been watching over his attempts with a mix of hilarity and pity

5. Desserts

Some might give up, but not Diavolo! His newest ideas is fancy desserts. He was told by a sweet old succubus that the best way to his lover's heart was through the stomach (actually she initially had some far raunchier suggestions that had made Diavolo blush and had given him some ideas for far, FAR in his future relationship with MC, but that's neither here nor there) and so here Diavolo is, placing a giant order at Madame Scream's to be delivered to the HOL.

This time he has learned from his mistakes and he signs it as being from him and addresses it to "MC and the residents of HOL" because even he recognizes there are far too many sweets for a human to eat before they go bad

Barbatos by this point is starting to feel pity and is almost tempted to suggest he wait until it's not Beel's day for Fangol practice to send a giant array of tempting sweets.

Almost. If it weren't for the maid cafe fiasco of last week Barbatos probably would have, but that lace had chafed in areas that should never be chafed.

Diavolo sent his gift only to receive a poorly drawn thank-you card drawn by Beel and signed by everyone at the HOL, including MC, even though "I didn't even get a chance to eat any, BEEL"

This poor man feels his soul leave his body, especially when he returns home from RAD to find Barbatos and MC baking together and singing along to Disney songs (well, MC was singing, Barbatos was simply watching them with a smile and occasionally twisting them into a simple dance to make them laugh and squiggle with joy)

Et tu, Barbatos?

After yesterday's glitter incident, Barbatos has no shame and simply smirks back. He'll help the young lord when he can shower without finding glitter in every crevice.

+1: Tea together

Diavolo is planning his next gift when he gets a message from MC, of all people

His heart flutters, he has butterflies in his stomach, and he hasn't even read it yet!

It's a simple text- "What are you up to?"

Obviously Diavolo can't admit he's shirking paperwork to try and figure out a gift that would make them happy! So he improvises and claims he's working. He gets back a sad face emoji and a simple "Miss you! I feel like we haven't hung out in forever, but I know how busy you are. Good luck, I'm rooting for you!"

SHOT THROUGH THE HEART AND MC IS TO BLAME

This man is dramatically draped over his desk wailing about how cute MC is.

Luckily for him Barbatos has forgiven him for both the maid cafe incident and the glitter incident and Diavolo has been too distracted trying to plan gifts to cause any new chaos

Barbatos hands him a lovely picnic basket, complete with tea and fancy sandwiches, and tells him to go see MC and take a break since he's clearly not getting any work done as is.

Cue guilty glance to the overwhelming stack of paperwork that's been building up. He swears he's never seen Barbatos place more and yet they keep growing, are they breeding somehow...? Did Lucifer curse him after the taffy incident?

Either way, Diavolo takes the basket and heads off to HOL.

He's either very lucky or (more likely) Barbatos bribed Lucifer into helping him out, as MC is the one to answer the door.

They look kind of down until they see him and he explains he's there to spend time with them, and then they absolutely LIGHT UP.

Before he knows it, they've thrown himself into his arms and they're bouncing in excitement and snuggling him and happy flapping and boyo is confused but OVER THE MOON.

He finally did it!?!?! What was it!?!?! The picnic basket? Do they have a thing for picnics baskets!?!?!

And then he actually tunes in a d listens to their flood of chatter and how happy they are to see him and how much they've missed him and how excited and grateful they are they he took time out of his busy schedule to spend time with him and out in the thought to prepare a way for them to spend time in each other's company...

O H

He is M E L T I N G

He can't believe it was this easy.... no need for fancy gifts or anything like that, just... paying attention to their likes and spending time with them????

Holy shit he is gonna protect this human's smile witH HIS LIFE

And now that he understands them better he can buy EXPENSIVE SHIT THEY'LL ACTUALLY LIKE AND HE'LL GET ALL THE HAPPY SNUGGLES AND JOYOUS STIMMING IN THE WORLD!!!!

Yes, he decides, wrapping his arms around them while trying to keep the basket level

Now that he's gotten a taste of their sincere joy, he's hooked and he's going to make them as excited and happy as this as often as he possibly can.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me one master to rule them all #sfw #fluff #bc Dia is just as starved for a friend #gn!mc

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desi-lgbt-fest · 3 years

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Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

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youllallriseintheink · 3 years

Text

Prison Cell, chapter 1

Well, this one took on a life of its own. I intended to write a simple one-off taking place in an AU where the studio became the sketch dimension before most of the sacrifices were made. Turns out that this is going to take longer than that. While this AU will have an emphasis on horror, especially in the later chapters, I also want to show the resilience of some of these characters.

---

Joey Drew Studios was once an animation studio. Functionally, it still was. But before everyone’s eyes, it had become Hell.

The machine had been hard to ignore, but easy not to look into. No one seemed to know what it did save for a few, but no one was about to quit over it during the Great Depression.

The cult behaviour, in retrospect, had been the first sign. It isn’t everywhere that your boss demands an item from your workplace as a sacrifice to the Gods. But back then, it had seemed nothing more than a minor inconvenience. Pedestals had been set up in the break rooms. Sometimes your coworkers would go there to pray. It was strange. But again, not worth looking into, and not worth quitting over.

Joey had always been eccentric. Joey had always been unreasonable. Joey had always had an angry streak. If any of that was getting worse, it was getting worse at a fairly slow rate.

All of it happened so slowly. Until it happened all at once. The machine malfunctioned. It went into overdrive. Gent workers had rushed to quiet it. They turned off its power supply, and nothing happened. In desperation, they broke the pipes that had once fed it ink, and nothing happened. Finally, they frantically tried to dismantle it as it spewed ink, and... nothing happened. Even the strongest of men could not so much as loosen a bolt from the machine.

Then, something happened. An rapidly-growing area surrounding the machine lost its colour and detail- reduced to lines on a page.

In a last-ditch attempt to fix the machine, Joey and the closest members of his inner circle entered the ink machine room. No one knew what had happened. To outsiders, it had sounded like the ink machine had exploded. No one who had been in the room at the time emerged except for Sammy Lawrence, who came out limping and covered head-to-toe in ink.

From that point on, no one could leave. Doors to the outside were locked, and windows showed only black void. Sammy talked to many people in private in the coming days, and firm lines were drawn between those who were loyal to the cult, and those who weren’t- those who were donning masks and uniform. Those who were loyal left the studio occasionally- for meetings or to pick up supplies. Those who were not loyal had no way of knowing how they did.

Joey Drew still existed. Early on, there were rumours that he was dead and that his loyalists were merely following him in spirit, but before long, most people knew someone who had seen his new form.

Work remained much the same, albeit with a few fewer people, who had either not been in the studio that day, or whose primary duty was now distribution and getting supplies because they were some of the only people allowed outside. Everyone fulfilled their role. Gent workers maintained the machine. The others made cartoons, which, apparently, were still making it out to the outside world somehow. They ate. They slept. They mourned their losses. They formed small groups and tried to keep hope. A few small insurrections began, but but quickly ended in violence and were abandoned. With no access to medical professionals, no one wanted violence.

While no one in the studio had it easy, Susie Campbell held an additional secret. Every few days in the dead of night, a creature would come to her- a creature with a mask and curling, demonic horns made of ink. She’d wake up to the horrible creature sitting on her chest so she couldn’t move, and it would put a syringe in her neck and draw blood. This went on for weeks. Locking the door didn’t stop it. Eventually, it made her want to sleep as little as possible, and she began to wander the halls at night, oftentimes falling asleep in random places.

One night, after falling asleep in a hallway in the music department, she was roused by Norman Polk.

“Hey. Come with me tonight,” he whispered, helping her up. “That thing’s been stealing your blood, hasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Susie whispered back.

“I know someone else in that situation. But don’t worry- it doesn’t bother him anymore, either.”

Norman led Susie into one of the offices. Two cots had been set up, and one already had a person sleeping in it. “You settle in. I’ll go and look for another cot to bring in here. If the demon wants your blood, it’ll have to go through me.”

“Thank you,” Susie said. She wanted to say more, but didn’t know what to say. She was fast asleep before Norman returned.

Before the transformation of the studio, it would have been strange to see the two of them together, but times had changed. The big, strange, sneaky cryptid had gone from someone you avoided to someone you wanted on your side. And yet, on a social level Norman still mostly left the music room to themselves most days- he preferred to eavesdrop or hang out with the people who’d accepted him before all of this.

That changed after he started sharing a room with Susie, though. She started inviting him to talk with her and Wally, or any of her other friends in the music room, and he’d agree to it, mostly because he wanted to spend time with her. Eventually it became well-known what he was doing for his ‘guests.’

It continued like that for a few weeks. The creature found other victims before it found her. Then, one night, it slipped into the room, and it did not like what it saw. Two of its previous victims, including Susie Campbell. Susie was tucked into Norman’s arms. She opened her eyes for a moment, saw him, and went back to sleep. She felt safe and protected, and it made the demon’s blood boil. Blood wasn’t worth being clobbered for- not while he could get it elsewhere. But something had to be done.

The night after, Thomas Connor and two men nearly as strong as he was, each wearing loyalist uniforms and masks, entered the room. They pulled Norman out of bed, handcuffed and gagged him, and began to lead him away. Susie woke up to the feeling of him being pulled off of her.

For a moment, she was stunned. The next, she was yelling for help. The man in the other bed woke up as well. Susie had never gotten to know her “roommate,” but that didn’t matter now. “Come with me,” she said. “We need to wake people up!”

“What? Why?”

“You’ll see. Just trust me!” Susie had thought this day might come for quite some time, and she’d planned for it.

And so, the two followed the loyalists down the hall, banging on the doors and yelling to try and wake people up. Susie cursed herself for not finding out where people had been holing up. Her partner eventually found Emma Lamonte. Finally, one of the doors opened- it was Henry Stein- another person who could fight decently enough. “Henry, you’ve got to help. They’re taking Norman away. Hurry!”

Henry looked over to see it happening, and hesitated.

“Henry, if they get him on that elevator, we’ll never see him again!” Henry jolted into action, and soon he and Emma were in close range of the three loyalists.

It ended about as quickly. Emma managed to mule-kick one of the men in the stomach and knock the wind out of him before another one of the men snuck up behind her and began to choke her. Thomas was still holding Norman Polk as he squirmed in attempt to escape. Henry attempted to punch out the man strangling Emma, and he managed a few blows, but the man she’d kicked recovered and restrained Henry until Emma was unconscious. Once she was unconscious, her attacker rejoined Thomas, and they dragged Norman to the elevator. Before morning, Emma had been taken, too. Henry had run.

---

“I should have gotten in there,” Susie’s roommate said, breaking a long, tearful silence between them.

“You couldn’t have done anything. Those men were twice your size.” It hadn’t been as though they hadn’t spent the duration of the fight banging on doors in hopes of finding allies.

“I know.”

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you around the music department.”

“Grant Cohen. Finances.”

“Oh. Norman’s talked about you. Well, I’m glad you’re from another department. Tomorrow, I’m going to try and get as many people together as possible- a rescue party, I guess. You could help. Tell everyone in your department to meet in the recording theatre after hours.”

Grant laughed bitterly. “Sure. I’ll gather all the bravest souls in accounting and finance.” There was a pause. “Don’t you get it? We’re helpless. People haven’t been forming big groups because when they do, things like this happen. And anyhow, I’d bet anything that Norman is dead already.”

A part of Susie agreed. But that wasn’t the useful part of her right now. “Look, I’m not going to try and convince you. But personally, I don’t like feeling helpless just because I can’t knock out Thomas Connor.”

---

The following evening, Susie had gathered quite a number of people. Henry’s friends had come, terrified that he was essentially a wanted man and that he had to be hidden from loyalists. Grant had showed up with a few others from accounting that had agreed to come along. And of course, the music department had all noticed Norman’s absence.

Susie began the meeting by telling the story of what had happened to Norman. Surprisingly, what followed was a number of other people coming out about various grievances. A few others had had the same experience as Susie, of having their blood harvested. There were also a few from other departments who had refused to work and had been punished by having one of their bones broken in the night. Wally complained about having to mop up blood.

“We need to handle all of that, too. But first can we talk about Norman?” Susie said, trying to regain control of the meeting.

“If he got onto the elevator, he’s probably dead,” Abby said, as gently as she could. “Or at least, he’s on one of their levels. There’s no way we can go down there and rescue him. But, since you’ve brought us all together, we might as well get organized. Maybe there’s a way for us to defend each other. And figure out who will be running the projector from now on.”

A knock at the door sounded, and everyone in the room went perfectly still.

“Do we open it?” Susie asked.

It seemed entirely ridiculous that the loyalists would try to get in by politely knocking.

“If they’re right outside this door, this meeting is over anyhow, and we can’t stay in here forever,” Abby reasoned.

On the other side of the door was Sammy Lawrence, holding a cardboard box. He was wearing the uniform of the loyalists, but thankfully he was alone. “I am not your enemy. I come bearing gifts,” he said.

Abby carefully opened the box, as though she were disarming a bomb. Inside were a few loyalist uniforms and masks of different sizes. She inspected them carefully and found nothing suspicious about them.

“Why?” Abby asked.

“Joey is working on a way out for all of us. None of us are getting out without his help. That is why I’m a loyalist. But, evermore since the machine cursed us, he’s been… worsening. I still have hope that he will get us out of here, but until then, you need to stand up for yourselves. Consider these a tool- they could let you visit the lower levels. But I beg of you- don’t interfere with loyalist work. Loyalist work is what allows some of us to visit the outside, and us going to the outside is what keeps you fed. Remember that.”

Abby nodded. “Thank you. This is very… courageous of you, Mr. Lawrence. But we’re still going to escort you to the elevator now. We can’t risk that this is just you trying to spy on us.”

Sammy did not resist as Henry and Jack escorted him to the elevator, and he left for the lower floors without issue.

“Well," Abby said, “I guess we have a way of finding out what happened to him after all.”

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #susie campbell #norman polk #abby lambert #sammy lawrence #joey drew #my fanfiction #Aus #Story: prison cell

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ausp-ice · 5 years

Photo

Commissions are open!

See [here] for commission status and slots.

You can claim a slot by contacting me or commenting on the sheet. If you claim a slot, you commit to commissioning me.

Slots are shared across all platforms. Complex is pretty much anything $30 or over.

General Notes:

DM me if interested! I may not respond for a while if I’m on break, but you can also try contacting me via another blog/platform if I don’t respond in a week. Please do not spam.

I will state a price (in USD), and if you agree, you must pay via Venmo (preferred, but U.S. only) or Paypal before I begin.

You can request certain details/composition, or leave it all to me.

Please provide visual references if possible. I will increase the price significantly if they are not available or difficult to find.

Designs (i.e. from written descriptions and details) will have a ~1.5-2x multiplier on the price.

If there’s anything you’re interested in that’s not explicitly offered, talk to me and we can negotiate!

For additional details and offerings, continue reading:

Speedpaints

High res infographic [here].

Base Prices for Simple / Regular / Complex Characters: Bust: $7 / 12 / 15+ Partial: $14 / 25 / 30+ Fullbody: $20 / 35 / 40+

Additional Characters: 90% of individual price. (The more complex characters are counted first.) Complexity can be lower for less of a character, i.e. if they have a simple head design but a complex body. For extremely simple characters, price may be further lowered. I will adjust the price as I see fit.

Background Add-on Prices: +0%: None or simple (such as a gradient), may be partially shaded +30%: Abstract/atmospheric, has proper lighting +40%: Simple scene +50%+: Complex scene

Discounts Monochrome/Mostly Monochrome: 10% discount Rough: 10-20% discount

Logo Design

$30-50, depending on complexity and how much control you want to have over the process. The more details you give me at the start, the better - what kind of vibe you're going for, colors, specific elements. I will provide 3-5 sketches, and you will choose which of them you like best for me fully render. Animated Logos are $50-100 and up, depending on the complexity of the design. The non-animated version is included in this cost.

Live2D Speedpaint Animation

Price: Painting (can use previous) + 1-3x character price + .5x add-ons.

The cost multiplier depends on the complexity of the animation.

10% discount if you tell me you want to animate a painting from the start, as opposed to me using a previous painting. (You cannot ask me to do this for a regular painting commission if you are unsure, i.e. asking a painting to be made for animation “in case” you want it to be animated. You can say that you’ll ask for the animated part at a later date, but you must give me a time frame. If, at that time, you go back on your word, you may be blacklisted from future commissions and giveaways.)

A still image of the painting can be provided.

Examples: Medusa: Raffle Prize for 3ghosts (Example Price: ~$60) Fusion: Helkki (Example Price: ~$53)

Special Offerings

Young Vessel 3D Model

High res infographic [here].

$20-40, depending on complexity.

I can try to do simple cracks, but I can’t promise they’ll look perfect.

You must provide fullbody colored reference(s). One front-facing and one side-facing is preferred, of the same image dimensions. If you provide those and add your character to the HK OC Height Chart for size comparison, I’ll give a 10% discount.

With a completed model:

Simple Pose with Basic Scene: First Included, additional $5 each. From the second onward, you can request the addition of any previous models I’ve made.

$10: for a 3D-printable STL file. (I need to add a base and make a couple of changes so it doesn’t fall apart. You can come back to me for tips/modifications) $5: 3D Turnaround $10-30+: Full scene. I’m still learning Blender, so there’s a lot that’s out of my skill range.

Footnotes

I will most likely post on Tumblr, Deviantart, and Instagram. Please do not repost anywhere, unless I have given explicit permission.

You can use your commission work for profile pictures, banners, backgrounds, etc. If you use it publicly, please credit me, but you don’t have to tell me.

My speed will vary depending on the request, but I will try to finish in a timely manner. However, it may not be my first priority - work comes first, and I might work on my own things.

If you want a breakdown of how I priced your request, I can provide it, but if you have no concerns with it I shall not.

You can make a request for minor changes after I finish, but nothing big.

My commissions are on a first-come, first-serve basis. If you make a request after all slots are filled (even if I haven’t updated the slots number), I will inform you that I’ve reached my maximum, and you must make the request once commissions are open again. That is to say, I won’t hold a spot.

I will draw most things, including humans, animals, dragons, fantasy creatures, mecha, fan characters, etc. All that matters is complexity.

I will NOT draw most gore (blood is ok), NSFW, fetishes, or offensive content.

Deliberate misconduct and neglect of terms may result in blacklisting from future commissions and giveaways. You can make an appeal after three months. If you are blacklisted again, then that’s that.

I may change prices with or without announcement.

I reserve the right to refuse service for any reason.

#commissions #art commissions #commissions open #my content #op

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clover-png · 4 years

Text

character quirks!

originally this was going to be a list of passive and active character quirks (ex. passive = loves history but knows nothing about it, active = well, everything on this list), but once i started it, i realized that’s not how it works?? all of your quirks and hobbies and loves and hates leave stains on your personality, even in the tiniest ways. so here’s a list of quirks that actively change your character, with simple explanations! and please remember, this is strictly for characters. it is, in one way or another, based in stereotype! and humans aren’t built around stereotype, you are not built around stereotype.

i don’t write about what I don’t know about, so almost all of this is taken directly from my own self or someone i know :]

only likes cold pizza/raw bagels/the off-brand version of a popular food - can indicate this character is a particular, detail-oriented person, and typically this type of person is not snobbish, but they are stubborn (if you’re looking for something similar to indicate the person is snobbish: they refuse to eat leftovers, wipe grease off their food, shuns fast-food restaurants)

homeschooled/grew up homeschooled - coming directly from a homeschooler, we get a bad rep! not all homeschoolers are antisocial, extremely religious or have old-fashioned views on society. that being said, homeschoolers tend to act more like their parents and siblings than other kids do, and that’s where those stereotypes tend to stem from. while many homeschoolers are very sociable, it’s common for them to still be more reserved and a little more socially inept than other kids, just from lack of practice. homeschoolers also tend have a strong sense of loneliness, even if they have lots of friends/have graduated, that feeling will stick.

walks along the curb of the street, swinging one foot in front of the other - turning something as minuscule as walking along the side of a road into a silent game shows that they are in their mind a lot, they live in their imaginations. showing them walking normally can indicate that something’s wrong. traits that match with this quirk but aren’t necessary: quiet, optimistic

hates wearing hats/skirts/tights/etc. - a person that hates hats/skirts/tights/whatever is very much comfort before fashion. they’ll tend to not wear fully matching or fitting clothing and this can stem from a fear of change. if someone who openly dislikes wearing hats comes into the room in a beret, it’s change (yes, it can be as small as that. trust me, it took me 2 years to work up the courage to wear a non-formal dress in front of my family.)

always tapping their foot/bobbing their head/patting their leg - this means someone is more musically inclined than others, and it’s almost always subconscious. they probably play multiple instruments, and come from a family of musicians/music-lovers. close friends/family might make fun of them for dancing all the time, or someone might get frustrated when they won’t stop doing it during a serious moment

zones out easily/can stare at nothing for hours - similar to the person walking on the curb, a character that tends to zone out on nothing for long periods of time is probably daydreaming about the other lives they could lead. they might feel like they’re stuck with the hand they got dealt in life. when things go wrong, they’ll probably get as far away from every person as possible and fantasize about running away and starting it all over. they don’t have to be loners, but they’ll typically feel isolated and different from their friends, maybe not as invested in their friendship as the other person is.

having stuffed animals - a character, especially outside of young childhood, having stuffed animals can be a sign of their loneliness, the manufactured hug of a friend or soft fur of a pet when they don’t have the real thing nearby. a character with stuffed animals might be more empathetic and sensitive than others, getting upset if someone makes fun of them for it or holding extra tight onto one that fell or got damaged somehow. they also might have childlike fears or simply be more fearful than most, and the stuffed animals might be a sanctuary for them

draws slight attention to themselves in public (listens to music without earbuds, does things that could be done inside [painting, reading, stuff like that] outside, asks a stranger a question to prove their point in a conversation, wears bold clothes, talks loudly, etc.) - while it’s possible for these to just be seen as obnoxious/extroverted quirks, on a deeper level they can imply the character wants something to happen. they want to be seen by strangers. maybe they consume a lot of entertainment (books, tv, movies) and they subconsciously set up their life to be met with question, then a greeting, then a friendship, constantly giving “The One” a chance to appear.

hates jewelry - fear of being trapped. a necklace feels like being choked, a bracelet feels like being chained down, a ring feels like circulation is cut off, but also take it in a figurative way. by accepting the jewelry, an expensive gift, they’re accepting that someone cares about them/they’re accepting that they have to wear it enough to make up for the cost. it sounds dumb i know but i can tell you from experience this is a very real thing

puts off work to the last second/procrastinates - i’ve really grown to hate that word. they grew up smart, or with an easy workload, and now they refuse to adjust to the updated workload. this one is short but there’s about a million posts on procrastination, and i’m sure there’s a more in-depth one than i could ever do! some ideas for prompts for this quirk is running out of time on something important, someone getting mad at the character for leaving the work until the last minute when they need them, being overworked, having a stress-induced meltdown and a love interest/forming friendship offers to help

goes through phases rapidly - based on what kind of phases they are, this could show unrest at home for a secondary character. one day they go to MC’s house wearing florals smelling like fabric softener, soft rock music wafting through the air from their cheap earbuds. they’re making clever jokes and urging MC to go on a walk in nature with them. next week, they show up wearing a ragged, wrinkled black t-shirt and they have bags under their eyes, looking like they haven’t showered in five days. they’re being insensitive with their sarcastic cracks and impatient with MC’s reactions, maybe even admitting they didn’t know why they showed up in the first place. obviously that’s a dramatic juxtaposition, but just an idea.

a gentle vandal (carving their initials into old wood, drawing/writing in textbooks, letters to no one put in cheap bottles and thrown into the ocean, underlining passages in books, so on and so forth) - fear of being forgotten, a good romantic partner/close friend of this character would be someone who reminds them they’re not alone in the universe.

never paints their nails/does their hair/wears extravagant clothes - fear of being seen as “different,” doesn’t want to be noticed by people. probably was bullied when they were young, or they have a family with a Reputation™ to uphold

struggles to accept compliments - a character that struggles with compliments, and basically any positive attention on themselves, would have low self-esteem to begin with. they probably didn’t grow up being seen as “pretty,” or someone made them feel ugly when they were young, regardless of whether it was true or not (example: Cinderella)

tips restaurant employees/delivery people way above the average/gives big gifts for small celebrations - this could mean they grew up in a upper class/upper middle class household and feels guilty for it, or that they grew up in a lower class/working class household and know what it feels like not to get gifts/have extra money. either way, it can give you insight to a character’s past without too much exposition, just a simple line of dialogue after an action.

always has at least one band-aid on somewhere - this can show that a character is careless with themselves, or maybe that they have a very active mind and force their body to match it (running to write something down and tripping, getting excited about seeing something pretty to sketch in nature and getting scratched by thorns as they tried to reach it as fast as they could, etc.)

wears vintage clothes and/or watches old movies - in the most accurate sense, i think, a character who enjoys these types of things would likely have an old soul, they probably think life should be more exciting than it is, and they’re dissatisfied with the current state of humanity (this doesn’t mean that they have to have an old-fashioned mindset! i wear vintage clothes and one of my favorite movies is meet me in st. louis, but i’m still VERY glad we don’t live like they did. not everything that makes logical sense in life can be drawn together with a bow on top)

i hope this didn’t come off too preachy or anything? i mean, i don’t know shit, i just like writing and characters that make sense, and i feel like i see a lot of character flaw lists that are very.. generalized, and not everything works for every character! obviously you’re free to use any of these, but if you’d like to show me how you used them in your story i’d love to see it!!! feel free to message me any time!

#writing #writing prompts #writing tips #scene prompts #writeblr #writing inspiration #writing inspo #lolas posts

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blankdblank · 4 years

Text

Loki Baby Pt 9

special thanks to inca for helping me brainstorm ideas for this. More of the ideas to come :D

@sdavid09, @theincaprincess, @himoverflowers

Nearly a week Thor had been in and out of the apartment while you focused on your repairs and in the lull of your being needed at work you took to cuddling up and reading through your old stack of unread books. It truly was odd for you to have to spend every day at work and you were glad to be back to your reclusive state to ease the travels you hoped to have when your Tardis was repaired. Staring up at the stars had begun too painful to bear since being grounded here. And in this new timeline you had managed to catch up on their varied history since the wormhole you had led Gallifrey and the Time Lords through after stealing your Tardis to help change the Time War had spat you all out in this altered dimension.

Creatures mainly were the same with only in this timeline the three Starks to die in that car crash now was dropped to two leaving a son in a very dangerous situation. True there were worse than Stark in the old dimension you had to stave off and in place of a few invasions you knew of these Avengers and Mutants had risen to fill the void with equally as devastating effects now making your existence here a tad bit more believable. Time travel truly wasn’t that unbelievable anymore, especially not now that Steve Rogers had launched himself into the past in hopes of finally getting the girl.

All the same between bouts with Thor when he would get called back to the Tower to aid Stark in some unspoken diagrams the snuggle prone Prince would slip into your apartment to crawl into your reading nest and enjoy the peaceful breaks sharing all you had been studying. Yet today you were off to another event, a simple garden party for a high up General’s daughter who you had helped to protect her new penthouse apartment and the building around it, somehow meaning she felt indebted to invite you and a guest along to her party for the pompous to mingle.

“Why History?” The question jolted you from your thoughts on how today was meant to go and you flashed the Prince a grin catching his gaze when his chin propped up on your shoulder.

“If you don’t know the past you’re doomed to repeat it. Plus it is interesting to see how the public history matches HYDRA and SHIELD’s records.”

“What does it say about you?” He asked playfully with a goading smirk.

“Nothing. What did you expect it to say? Decades of me facing off against Starks?”

Making Loki chuckle and ask, “Something, anything after how Pietro spoke about you.”

“Little hands Loki, little hands and little names make the world go round,” spreading his smirk curiously as you brushed a stray strip of hair out of his face, admiring the gentle spirals his hair twisted in proving he was slowly showing you more of his hidden self. The thought in private leading you to assume he had a natural poof of hair similar to yours he straightened explaining his usual slicked back style most likely to fit the styles of his homeland. “We don’t all get to be Alexanders the Great and Einsteins. However, to pass nameless through the fabric of it all,” your head tilted a moment making his shift in an adoring glance over your face, “You can see it all, feel it all, and even change and Alexander, Einstein, or even a Stark.”

“Fascinating,” he hummed out absolutely enamored with the notion of your idea, traveling the world and possibly universe nameless to see everything and change the world. None of this without you however, inside his heart swelled imagining all the places he could show you, all the incredible things to have you in awe of what he alone had discovered expanding the world he had grown in from what little his people had taken the time to see. Mostly he wanted you. Floating through all of space, holding you while you soared between the stars, kissing you on the ruins of civilizations who had abandoned their homes to explore the stars once you had discovered all the secrets they had to tell. He wanted you, and maybe, just maybe, if you never stopped exploring and learning, and he never stopped discovering new adventures time would be kind, just this once, and let him keep you. Let you stay. Let him be yours always.

Fingers raked through his hair and again his grin deepened in your giggling, “What?”

He shook his head, “Nothing.”

Out you giggled again, “It is a tad ridiculous of an idea, however most discoveries are half mad notions to begin with. So if you are coming up with something to tease me,”

Tightening his arms around your sides your voice broke off in his head resting on your shoulder burying his forehead against the side of your neck, “No teasing. Go on, tell me what secrets that book holds.”

Shifting your leg he held his position hoping you wouldn’t move him and all you did was slide one leg farther under his hips while your other leg went over his to draw it out more to line him up as your arms draped across his back you covered to help prop up the book making him close his eyes at the position. To the sound of your voice and the sound of his own slowing heartbeat he drifted off holding you closer, and if he hadn’t dreamed it he could have sworn when you set the book down to wrap more around him for another nap in return, a kiss was left on his forehead. Something simple, innocent and fast where his lips planting drowsily in return on the end of your collar bone did nothing but swell up a surge of dreams making it near impossibly difficult to remain just snuggling with the drowsy Prince you now ached to wake up to break every rule you had set for yourself.

Fixing his tie Tony passed through his office again, “Now Vision, we are heading for the exhibit today and I have a special task for you. I would like you to keep an eye on Miss Pear, find out something, anything. You’re more observant for small ticks and clues we might be missing.”

Vision flatly stated, “I promised Wanda we would tour together.”

Tony, “Well you can do both. Not be right hovering behind her, but check in, you know, subtle.”

Vision, “I am many things Tony, subtle is not one of them.”

Tony turned and patted his shoulder, “I have faith in you.”

Then strolled away for Vision to mumble, “Your ill gotten faith will land me in another argument with Wanda.” Turning to fix his cape over his suit in the mirror.

Mint green shirt for Loki and a peach flowing dress for you settling around your knees making him imagine some sort of flower blended in his place in the car, out of your days of snuggling his place at your side had leapt forward. Out of habit his arm had extended and with a hint of a dopey grin you leaned against his side with his fingers sweetly tracing shapes into your skin just under the layered sheer strip of fabric stitched to the thin shoulder strap miming a sleeve. He didn’t have to come today, you had told him, this would probably be the dullest event yet possibly flooding you with more questions possibly taking you from his attentions for a time but he insisted, he lied, said Thor would be there to distract him, the whole Avengers team would, he had people to talk to, people he barely knew even after living together for so long, but people none the less.

The arrival of your car didn’t go unnoticed and in your slide out he got to take in each detail of you cast in sunlight to find his feet and take your hand for the walk inside. Subtle and not to subtle glances were cast as in a sea of whispers and flashes you entered the building and handed over your purse to be scanned and chatted with the awed man behind the xray arch you passed through that in his distraction flashed as your pen was being scanned from your scan to a doctored one leaving only one with such acute eyesight and neurological speed to have caught it. Sure as day Vision had seen what he could not believe, the woman Tony had set him after had two hearts.

Loki was next exposing etchings on his bones and ridges across his scalp and shoulder blades, signs that jotuns like certain animals used to have spikes there to help deter predators in the youth of their people. Straight to mingling you went and seeing a flood of people in a whisper by your ear Loki excused himself to fetch your drinks. Up to the bar he went and that was where he found Sam, “You seem cozy.” He said halfway leaned back against the bar holding the base of his sparkling water refusing to drink at one of these events after having seen how rowdy Bucky would get trying to correct every piece’s history as if he was the expert for having been in the 40’s, even if the subject piece was far from that time period.

“Miss Pear and I are getting along famously, yes.”

Sam chuckled, “Oh you’re famous alright. Can’t switch on the tv without seeing some update on your coupleyness. Now they’re sketching possible babies since you guys holed up in your place all week.”

“Hmm,” he turned to the now attentive bartender who had recognized him and jumped to service and turned to fix the order he was given, “Well I suppose if there is nothing to gossip over people will create it.”

Sam smirked, “So no baby making going on?”

“There are tradition and ceremonies to be had before children will be brought into this world.”

Sam, “No, I mean-,”

Loki said, “I know what you meant.” Locking his eyes on Sam’s, “However alluring Miss Pear is to the masses of this planet I would never betray her trust by discussing our trysts.”

That had Sam smirking as Loki raised the colored mixed drinks in martini glasses he strolled off with to smirk to himself as Sam said, “So there are trysts?” In a shake of his head the smirk dropped and Sam hurried of to pull Bucky away from the curator of the event seeing the tell tale signs he was about to start arguing.

From your side even to Peter Parker’s he strode after handing off your drink casually greeting the slightly wide eyed teen at his side, “It is a lovely day, Parker.”

Peter nodded, “Yes,” in a quick sip of his drink his mind reeled and he asked, “So, you like Mayan art? I have a project due on it, Tony thought it would help to bring me.”

Loki shrugged, “I suppose, this however is not Mayan.” That made the teen peer up at him wide eyed only to listen and join him to a small table where he grabbed a stack of unused napkins to start sketching proper symbols and even hinted that he knew just where the Mayans had gone to leaving the teen on the edge of his seat as he brought up information from books available from the database on the phone you had given him.

In a relieved sigh you found your way out onto the balcony thankful for the breeze and allowed slip away. Finishing off your drink you eyed the glass almost pitifully wishing you knew what concoction Loki had chosen for you so you might order another. A passing waiter took your glass with a grin and you strolled to the edge of the balcony to look out into the distance only to glance back at the sound of a billowing cape. Grinning softly you eyed Vision and turned to face him on his approach, “Hello Vision.”

“Miss Pear. It has come to my attention a question I must ask you.”

“Sounds serious.” You said holding your pleasant grin.

“It is, rather, a life and death question,” that had your head tilting slightly wondering what he could mean, “From my research it is most common for humans to in fact have one heart to power their bodies.”

“True.”

“And yet for a millisecond on your scan it revealed you have two. I have been scouring my databases and I have not found any records of humans surviving with two hearts.”

“No, you wouldn’t,”

“I do not understand then-,”

In a sigh you started your bold faced half truth, appealing to his logic and notions of fear, “My parents did what they could to keep my condition hidden. People with two hearts don’t survive once discovered because there is often a good chance those who find them take one to donate them to others in need of a heart.” That parted his lips, “I hide my past not because I have an ulterior motive or some evil plan, but because if some heartless scientist discovers my secret they will cut me open and it will kill me. My body cannot survive on one heart, and no matter how selfish that may seem when there are those in need of one, I deserve my full lifespan as much as they deserve theirs.”

His eyes looked you over, “You have been hunted in the past for your heart?”

“All my life people have been trying to work me out. The only reason SHEILD isn’t all over you is because Stark has showed them everything, down to the last bolt. They’ve tested each of the team, even Wanda, only Thor and Loki are able to skip the tests because Asgardians are deemed allies. One of the few examples of other races landing here where they didn’t end up on an autopsy table. I’m alone here, I understand your curiosity, but I can’t imagine what Stark would do-,”

“I will not tell him.” Your eyes looked over his, “You have my word, I will not betray your trust. I did not realize how much danger you felt yourself in.” Somehow he straightened up a bit more saying, “This is what I will research, a way to create artificial organs, so butchers will not attack innocents.” In a nod of his head he said, “Do enjoy your day, I must return to find Wanda.”

Turned around he scanned the crowds and strolled off leaving you to glance at the door seeing Loki stroll through with a refill in hand. “Everything alright?”

You nodded accepting the drink with a grin saying, “You have to tell me what this is.”

In a smirk he replied in a purr, “Ah, but then I wouldn’t be able to fetch them for you now would I?” Making you smirk in return lifting your glass as he did for a sip.

…

Two more days of hiding and burrowing away again you dolled up for Thor’s birthday party. A simple sundress was in store for the poolside affair where the golden haired Prince took the chance to bring you in closer to get to know you better. Loki however was a bit more preoccupied with the odd heartbeat he heard waking with his head on your chest. While you showered and he changed for the party he had a double scouring the internet for heart condition in mortals leaving him only grim outlooks for each the more he dug meaning he would have to find some way to get you to Asgard to have his healers look you over and hopefully find a way to repair the illness you were hiding.

Lounging by the pool you answered questions and shared in the conversation the Princes were holding with Peter about the show they had been binging on brightening his mood as his friends from before the snap were off at colleges across the country while he studied at NYU.

Even Sam and Bucky came closer to join in the conversation only to break into an argument with Loki about his comments on the Mayan Empire. A trip to the bath and when you exited you found Vision floating outside the door, “Miss Pear, I would like to show you my models.” With a nod you joined him to the sitting room where he pulled up on his tablet the holographic designs yet when Wanda asked for help with the drinks you agreed to talk later and returned just in time for Bucky to turn and face you still confused about your father.

Bucky, “Any word from your father?”

“He’s around, why?”

Bucky, “There’s a funeral and a sort of reunion after for one of our poker buddies.”

You nodded, “Yes, Timothy, good lad.”

Bucky’s head tilted, “You knew him?”

“I’ve met a lot of my dad’s friends. Heard all the stories. Even the ones about you and your buddy Steve.”

Bucky, “Your dad never met Steve past that once.”

“No, but my friend Pietro went to basic with him. Determined little thing. Wonder why you lot ever let him go back there.”

Tony, “How do you know about that?”

You looked at him with a smirk, “You mean how did I notice that five years ago that Stevie boy ceased to exist then one day shows up in the States again reusing his information and decides to settle down and have a family saying screw the fabric of time?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Bucky, “No, what makes you think Steve would do anything wrong by settling down?”

Your brow arched up, “You know Steve a great deal better than I do. So you don’t need to take my word for just how stupid your fella can be.”

Sam’s lips pursed and he said, “She’s got a point.”

Tony, “Oh and I assume you might do better if you went back in time?”

After a quick giggle you said, “Well I certainly wouldn’t do anything for my own gain past curiosity. Certainly wouldn’t be bringing people back from the dead and taking other people’s children.”

Tony, “Other people’s children?”

You nodded, “Unless you forget your old goduncle George before Steve took the place.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, “George?”

“Exactly my point.” You looked to Bucky, “You remember Georgie, climbed that tower to help take out a sniper trap, that was how he met Peggy, fell broke his collarbone and got saddled to a desk. Spent days together just talking, commiserating. Waited two years for her to be ready to date, and because of Steve Georgie never got to meet Peggy, cuz Steve took her dancing and moved her back to the Brooklyn with him. Very, big, hole.”

His eyes narrowed again and Bucky said, “I remember Georgie, always tried to chat her up. Always flopped.” Looking you over he asked, “What else has changed?”

“You could fill up fifty encyclopedias with the drama your fella’s stirred up.”

Bucky, “I’m gonna have to talk to your dad when he gets here.”

That had Loki stealing a glance at you wondering what your father would be like while hoping that they came soon so he might get to know your family as well. Wishing he might make a good impression on them.

…

With a giggle you turned from your kitchen looking at the teas you had your head turned at the knock at the door making Loki glance at you asking, “I thought guests had to be buzzed in?”

The smile spreading across your face had him grinning curiously, “That would not be a guest.” Following after you to the door he watched you excitedly approach it to open it wide and squeak at the man smiling just as brightly on the other side of it.

“There you are Pumpkin.” Tightly engulfing you in his arms chuckling as you giggled clutching you tightly, “You didn’t think I was going to leave you stranded here, now did you?” When you pulled back you nipped at your lip watching him reach into the satchel at his waist and pulled out a curious looking knob making you squeak again, “Can’t leave everything to the usual routes and leave our Bluejay on the ground. Need you up in the air.” In a twitch of his brows he said, “Got you a whole bag. Now, grab your shoes and we can get to tinkering.”

After another squeak you turned around glancing between your father and Loki and said, “Oh, Daddy, this is Prince Loki. He lives across the hall.”

“Jack Harkness.” When you strolled around him their hands clasped and your father grinned widely looking him over, “Anyone tell you that you have stunning eyes? Glad someone finally earned the apartment.” His eyes followed you and while you were still in earshot he asked, “You two look ready for a party.”

Loki nodded and their hands released, “My brother’s birthday, just got back.”

Nodding again and seeing you were out of earshot your father said, “Prince Loki, I’ll make this simple, you break my little girl’s heart and I’ll tear you in half.” With a pat on his shoulder Loki couldn’t help but smirk in his step back when he stepped through the door in your return closing it behind him to join you in the sitting room where he pulled on the top of the spine on a book and said “Sasquatch,” the password signaling the bookshelf to sink into the floor.

Joining the group Loki couldn’t help but admire the man who had threatened him, well deserved for how incredible you are. Slowly the bookshelf sank and he looked between you two trying to gauge your ages only to see you step on top of the bookshelf your father joined you on then smirked at Loki, “Going down Handsome?”

Rolling your eyes you nodded your head, “Come on, show you how we get to the Swan Club.”

Your father smirked at you, “Ooh, Swan Club, fun times, fun times. Do I get to come?”

When Loki stepped onto the shelf by your father he eyed the cylinders the otter bots were sleeping in pulsing with lights recharging them and keeping them afloat while they held their tiny cubs on their bellies in a sharing of programming for the new batch while their personality chips melded randomly to form each cub to their own quirks based around their basic jobs they were formed to do. The sight making him grin as your father said, “Aww, you found out the coding to get them to reproduce. How cute.”

“Well they kept turning on the discovery channel and bringing me to it. They wanted the fuller families to completely embody otters and their social lives. Besides, they are adorable. Couldn’t resist.”

Past those Loki’s lips parted as the bookshelf came to a stop in a bare stretch of wall and a rolling staircase from the bookshelf to the right rolled over to stop in front of you. Down the steps you led the way with Loki curiously looking over the shelves of books and trinkets parting his lips at the Asgardian globe and the tip of a spear supposedly lost by his grandfather. Down behind your father he trotted and drew closer to that section of shelves.

“Here you go Pumpkin.” The sound of a lock shifting had his head tilting slightly in a reluctant turn, “First, we get your girl off the ground then you can help me with my vortex manipulator.”

“Bout time you let me get my hands on it. Bouncing around like a ping pong ball.”

At that Loki turned his head and his mouth fell open seeing your Tardis surrounded by boards with Gallifreyan symbols and notes with racks of tools far beyond this planet’s capabilities. Inhaling sharply he crossed the room following your giggle through the open door of the box in the rising of the bookshelf again and ceiling closing when it had passed through.

Stepping inside the doorway he peered upwards at the thirty foot tall entrance hall to your Tardis with hardwood floors and walls randomly spotted with round lit cutouts lighting the room. His view ahead leading up to a pyramid of stairs right in the center of the hall topped by the power and steering center. Tall pillars stood going through the balcony above showing more bookshelves reached by a spiral staircase. Arched beams up above met in an observation deck above under an amber colored dome. Five halls were closed by doors etched in differing scenes of Gallifreyan tales.

Around the control panel you and your father stood with tools at your feet while you opened the top panel to remove the worn knob using your sonic screwdriver you had brought from upstairs. A swipe around the tip and you saw the wires from inside you trailed the crystal tip of your screwdriver across for them to release you quickly secured and pressed down to swipe again to lock it in place. Grinning up at the rising column of light from the center console you said, “There you are, Precious.”

Turning your head you saw Loki and his smirk asking, “You’re a Frey.” Inhaling again it clicked in his head what he knew of the Frey, time travelers whose past were entangled with the Asgardians, very old Guardians who were a key role in stopping Hella and the path his people were on before him and Thor were even born. A race with two hearts known to live centuries and blessed with regenerations. Instantly all his worries of losing you to the mortal coil faded away and everything you had joked about with Pietro started to make sense, how you had known him and saved his life when he was in the war.

Looking up at him you smirked asking, “Where did you hear that name? Haven’t heard that in ages.”

Stepping up the steps to you looking over the open panel while your father replaced a few more singed out components clearly fried in a battle saying, “That’s the name my mother taught me belonged to your race.”

In a giggle you said, “We’re Gallifreyan, from Gallifrey.”

Smirking himself your father said, “Though most people call them Time Lords.”

Loki looked at him, “Them?”

Jack grinned saying, “Oh I’m human, well, sort of.”

Loki looked to you and you clarified, “Dad got, regenerated by a human entangled with a Tardis core before I was born and is immortal now.”

Jack, “The Frey side comes from, her mother.” The last two words nearly were growled making Loki glance between you.

Leaning n you whispered, “Dad and Mum don’t really talk. She never mentioned him she was the one behind trying to take over the universe that one time and he never really got over it.”

Jack, “73 years!” he shouted and you closed your eyes a moment, “We set up house for 73 years, raise our baby girl and one day over coffee starts giggling and is all blasé about the time she kept the Doctor in a dog house!” In a huff he goes to grab another tool a few feet away grumbling to himself.

Looking down at you Loki smirked again and you said, “The Doctor, my Godfather, another, Frey. Mum’s long time nemesis, though she used to be the Master, no Mistress back then.”

In a glance around he said, “Hmm, so it is true, you can change genders.”

“Gender is a subjective notion.” Following his gaze to one of the hallways you said, “Feel free to look around. Repairs shouldn’t take long.”

He nodded and like a kid in a candy store he hurried off to the hall, turning around you heard the creak of the door and went to join your father only to hear a second making you shout out, “Careful of the po-…” A distant splash and pants between the sound of water shifting had you finish, “-ol.” A chuckle from your father had you turning around trotting to the door and off to the open door on the right with a puddle in the doorway you entered with a quick grin seeing Loki brushing his curling hair out of his face as he stood after his climb out. “Sorry, I really should put a sign up but I rarely have guests.”

Loki shrugged lowering his hands saying, “No, I should have anticipated the pool starting three inches from the door.”

In a soft giggle you offered him your hand saying, “Come on, let’s get you dry.” Resting his hand on yours you lowered them and turned to guide him down the hall naming each room you passed until you got to a guest bath you led him into and pointed, “Up on the tiles,” he looked you over and you giggled again, “It’s a dryer. Takes three seconds.”

Up he stepped and then he turned his head and pressed the blue button you pointed to with the hand he let go of yours with and his lips parted at the warm gust of wind rippling around him drying him completely. Though in his step down his hands rose to his hair at your smirk up at his poof of curls you turned to pull a comb out of the medicine cabinet you brought back to him handing it over with a giggle. “I’ll let you fix it, the other doors are safe, just mind the pink cabinet in the card room, it tends to scream on occasion if anyone but me opens it.” His brow inched up, “It was a gift from the fourth Doctor.”

“There’s more than one?” In your smirk he nodded, “Right, fourth life.” He wet his lips, “How many is that, for the Doctor?”

“Well, I’ve met 12, though the council mentioned 13 few months back in a conference call.”

When you reached the door he asked, “What about you?”

Turning back you smiled saying, “Just the one so far. And I’m only 1200, one of the oldest first lives for traveling Frey on record.”

“How’d you manage that?”

“Easy, I’m far too stubborn to die.” You said with a giggle stepping out of the doorway to return to the repairs. In a chuckle he turned to the mirror and began to comb his curls back while you exited the hall and grinned at your father.

Chuckling to himself he asked, “First time down here?”

“Well you have to keep a bit of mystery up front, don’t you?”

Looking you over he asked in passing you another part you would be helping him swap while he unhooked the connectors and lifted the floor panel and shifted the backing for it, “How did you meet this Prince Loki?”

“First time, he saved me from being snatched by a SHEILD agent, but I don’t think he remembers that.” His eyes looked at you for a moment seeing you using your screwdriver to loosen the part and wiring attached to it retracting the completely fried circuit sheet. “Couple months back I talked to him at a party at Stark Tower, offered him the apartment.”

“And the watch?” He asked with a smirk making you smile again, “You never make just anyone a watch.”

“He has a kind heart and a troubled past.”

“Ooh, knew it. So tempting.” Making you giggle in his chuckle, “Certainly has eyes for you.”

In a sigh you replied, “He is fantastic.”

“I can imagine he is.” Looking at the panel he lifted again he added, “Nice ass too,” making you giggle again. “So, Asgardian, what are they like?”

“Well I’ve only met the two Princes, ooh and apparently he’s a Jotun raised by Queen Frigga.”

“Jotun.. Where have I heard that?”

“Also called Frost Giants,”

“Ooh,”

You giggled again, “Mhmm, bright red eyes, though Loki can shape shift and make doubles and levitate things and can shoot these odd green energy blasts out of his hands.” You secured the wires for the new circuit plate, “Oh, and he has this trick, he can call his daggers from home, something about enchanted sheaths or something.”

“Love a man with an endless arsenal.” He said lowering the panel you sealed again and he said when Loki reentered the hall, “Ah the living arsenal himself.”

Loki glanced between you and you giggled saying, “I mentioned your dagger trick.”

Loki nodded and flicked his hands when he got closer making your father stand and inspect the daggers he offered him hilt first, “Here you are.” After wetting his lips he pointed at the door he had passed through, asking, “I am curious, there is a door marked ‘Keep Out’ you put a sign on that but not the pool?”

Your father glanced at you as you said, “Oh, that, ya, few decades back there was something growling in there, just decided to wait it out.” Both of them ticked a brow up at you and you said, “Hey, that back end of the wormhole saving Gallifrey fried my control panel, I was a bit distracted trying to steer for a safe landing than worrying about what’s hiding in that room. Couldn’t be Dalek or it’d break the door down. Cyber Men are fairly patient, but even they would get bored. Can’t be biological or I would have gotten a warning. I wanted to check it out, my favorite scarf is in there, Doctor gave it to me.”

With a nod your father looked to Loki lifting the daggers, “Gonna borrow these.” He glanced at you, “Keep working. I’ll call if I need my plasma ray.”

Up the steps Loki timidly inched closer and crouched beside you eyeing the lever you were calibrating listening as you shared what you were doing with him. Down the hall however your father pressed his ear against the door hearing a soft growl making him tentatively grab and turn the knob easing the door open.

A quick flip of the switch and the room lit up bringing the silver robotic dog rolling out from under a chair to his attention. In a pleased chuckle he entered the room, “Oh! K9! There you are!”

“Affirmative.”

Moving to crouch greeting the singed and dented metal dog hurrying over to him, “This is where you got to. We’ve been looking for you. Left a nasty mess back on, oh, well doesn’t matter now. Tried to dig you out but I guess they weren’t lying. Whoops. Well, come on then, sorry bout that Jaqi didn’t know it was you in here.”

At his feet K9 happily rolled with him out of the room wobbling every few feet making Jack look down at him saying, “Just through here, Jaqi will see you right.”

Into the main hall he wobbled and his ears wiggled seeing you look up and smile, “K9!” Loki’s head tilted seeing the clearly damaged robot you scooted to the edge of the stairs in his hurried roll over to you.

“I have missed you, Bluejay.”

When he reached you, you asked gently patting his side, “How did you get in here?”

K9, “Doctor ordered me here when I took fire.”

“I am so sorry you’ve waited so long in there.”

K9 slurred out, “That is alright, I have been relaying my chess memory grid.”

Crouching down more you eased the panel off his side and drew your head back at the waft of smoke you fanned away then you said, “No wonder you’ve got the wobbles, you must have taken a phase blast. All this circuitry will need to be replaced.”

K9, “If repairs are beyond completion I might initiate my self destruct sequence, Mistress.”

After a nip at your lip, “No! None of that now. Just curious, I’ve come up with some designs for an upgrade if you would like to run through them?”

K9, “Affirmative.” With a grin you brought over a tablet from the control panel you brought up the plans on that he flipped through the diagrams for as you and Jack went back to finish the adjustments on the console allowing the Tardis to run through its usual checks and sweeps before being able to travel. Softly it began to hum when you moved to K9’s side hearing his eager humming.

“Do you approve of the schematics?”

Excitedly he replied, “Affirmative!”

Widely grinning you led the men back upstairs and helped Jack carry him up to the office in your apartment where you began to remove his casings and to his delight Loki set up a chess game on a tablet for the pair to play while you began to assemble the parts you had already forged for his skeleton. Here with those you had lost and the one you so painfully hoped would remain part of your tattered family your mind wandered back to your precious box. More trapped than you had been for all these years. Finally soon she could finally be free again, she had reborn hope and again her song began to grow dreaming of what was to come when she could take flight again. It was a word she thought she would say again. “Home.”

Pt 10

#Tale Teller’s 52 Week Writing Challenge #Loki x Reader OC

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alicepink-me · 4 years

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The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 19: Reformation

Marinette inhaled deeply, rolling over in her bed as the morning sun shined on her face. She blinked her eyes open, staring out the window. She had the best sleep in a long time last night. Adrien . . . not so much. Marinette looked over at him flopped over in one of her chairs. After spending yesterday together, Adrien refused to leave. He wanted to make sure that she was safe, but more importantly, that she felt okay. Adrien insisted he stay because he was afraid that their return to Paris would shock her. That maybe it'd be too much for her to handle. It was sweet actually.

Since he's spent his entire life living in a mansion, Adrien has never slept a night outside of a bed. That chair he's curled up in must be terribly uncomfortable, yet he stayed there all night, going out of his own comfort zone for her.

Marinette sat up in her bed and stared at him. She really hoped that Adrien knew how important he was to her and how much she appreciated him. Adrien stirred, opening his eyes. He straightened in the chair and stretched, smiling at her.

"I had a dream." Marinette said, slowly smiling. She smoothed back her fluffy blue hair.

"Was it about me?" Adrien tiredly smirked.

"Partially." Marinette answered, sighing. "You were in it at least." She turned to the window. "It was . . . about my family. I want to see my parents."

"You do?" Adrien question. "But yesterday-your ties to people and the Miracle Box . . . I thought you were against all that."

"I was, but I think I want to mend my relationships now, you know? Maybe I shouldn't have pushed everyone away like I did." Marinette felt her bed comforter. "Maybe I should restore my friendships and return to the places I used to know." She looked up at Adrien. "The one thing I learned at the temple is that I can't run forever and now I don't need to anymore. I should make the most of my past for the better of my future."

"Someone's changing." Adrien yawned.

"For the best." Marinette replied, resting her chin on her knees, peering up at him. "I felt at peace last night." She announced. "I feel different as if I sorted my life out in my own dreams or something."

"Thirteen hours of sleep at night will do that." He chuckled.

"Or maybe it's the feeling of knowing that the man of my dreams was sleeping five feet away from me." She smiled, cocking her head to the side.

"There's that too." Adrien stood up, stretching again. He moved over to the bed, crawling to her and towering over. He planted a light kiss on her nose. "So . . . we're visiting your parents." He smiled. "I need about an hour to get ready." Adrien kissed her nose again.

"I never said anything about today." Marinette announced, her eyes widening.

Adrien leaned closer to her. "Being the anxious, yet creative woman you are, Marinette, you'll have new ideas before the sun goes down. I think you should stick with this one today. Best to see your parents while you're thinking about them before you can second guess yourself and back out."

"I guess you're right." Marinette agreed. "But I have no promises for how my dad reacts. He's met both of you on several occasions, but it's hard to tell what he'll say this time. I haven't seen my parents in a year, so . . . anything could happen. And if they suspect you're the cause of my disappearance, they might kill you."

"Positive thoughts." Adrien reminded, turning around. He bounced off the bed and headed to the bathroom, stopping at the doorway. "They'll be overjoyed to see you again. I can guarantee it. Your parents are two of the nicest people I've ever known." He smiled and shut the door behind him.

. . .

"I'm nervous." Marinette said, holding his arm tighter as they walked. Her heart began to beat faster. "I keep imagining every possible way this could go. Not many are good." She breathed.

Adrien gripped her fingers tighter. "I've met your parents before and they are the sweetest people in the world. I doubt they could be anything but understanding."

"Wait, what am I going to tell them?!" Marinette panicked, taking a step to the side, dodging oncoming pedestrians on the sidewalk. "I completely forgot about that part! I didn't think this through! I can't just tell them about the miraculous or any details about that part of my life, but I can't lie to them either."

"Okay, take a deep breath." Adrien looked at her, practicing breathing and Marinette mimicked. "We don't have to tell them." He rested his hands on her shoulders. "We can get to that later." Marinette nodded. "We already established at the temple that neither of us are criminals, so this shouldn't be an interrogation."

"But what if they ask?" Marinette looked down.

"They might not. We aren't sure." Adrien turned her. "Right now, there's only a crosswalk between us and them." Marinette's eyes widened at the sight of the bakery. "You can do this."

"We're already here?" She questioned. "How did that happen? We just left."

"A lot of nerves along the way, but we made it."

She blinked. "You know, maybe we should come back another time. We didn't even call first. It's rude to drop in like this." Marinette turned to head back, but Adrien reached for her shoulder and stopped her.

"Family doesn't need to schedule an appointment." Adrien smiled as his hand moved down and interlocked their fingers.

"You're right." Marinette smiled back, shaking off a few nerves. "Let's go." She turned around and stepped forward, pulling him, but Adrien jerked her back as a car zoomed by.

"Watch for traffic though." He chuckled.

Marinette contained herself before proceeding, this time avoiding oncoming traffic. They finally made it across and Marinette sighed. The bakery was right in front of her. It's been so long, yet it felt like she was here yesterday. Adrien looked down at Marinette and she smiled up at him before pushing open the front door.

The bell above the glass chimed and Sabine looked up from the counter. Marinette gaped at the sight of her mother. Before Marinette even blinked, she felt a pair of small arms wrap around her and she heard her mother's tears. She looked down.

"Oh, Marinette, I'm so happy you've come to visit." Sabine sobbed onto her shoulder. "It's been far too long."

Tom could be seen entering from the back room. "Marinette!" He cheered, throwing his tray of cookies behind him against the wall before running over. He gave Marinette a bear hug from the side and pulled Adrien in. "And you brought Adrien with you."

"Yeah." Marinette smiled, hugging them back. "Sorry, I haven't really kept in touch."

"You're an adult, sweetie." Sabine said, letting go of her and wiping a tear. "You grew with us, but we won't be there for every milestone. You are allowed independence."

"But I feel like I could've contacted you guys more than I did." Marinette felt guilty. "I should've."

Tom wrapped his arm her. "No, my daughter's all grown up now and has her own plans for the future. She doesn't need her old man around anymore."

"That's what makes these moments more memorable." Sabine beamed. Tom moved to her side, facing the couple. "We're always excited to hear from you no matter the distance between us or the time that's passed. You'll always be our daughter, Marinette."

"But-"

"And what better day to catch up than today?" Adrien interrupted, smiling at the almost in-laws.

"Of course. It sure is a beautiful day." Sabine replied. "And it's nice to see you again, Adrien. Marinette hasn't brought friends over in years."

"Actually, we aren't friends." Adrien denied, interlocking his fingers with Marinette's and smirking. "Marinette and I are dating." He held up their hands.

"Dating?" Tom questioned.

"That is amazing! You two are finally a couple." Sabine cheered. "You know, Marinette used to talk so highly about you, Adrien. Both of you just seemed so perfect for each other."

"Mom!" Marinette's eyes widened.

"We are really compatible." Adrien agreed, a little bit of his Chat Noir peaking through. "I think our futures will be great together."

"Aw." Sabine touched her heart, tearing up. "Why don't you two enjoy lunch with us?" She suggested.

"We'd love to." Adrien answered, looking over at Marinette who was in slight shock. "Neither Marinette or I have any work today, so we have plenty of time."

"Wonderful!" Tom celebrated, slumpinh his big arm over Adrien's shoulder. "It's nice to have you here with us, son."

Adrien nervous laughed and Marinette smiled. Maybe everything would be okay for them after all. Marinette had hope. How could she have doubted her parents in the first place? They were the best.

. . .

"What a day." Marinette sighed, jumping on her bed. "I really missed them."

"Both of us survived a fantastic visit with your parents and today was only the start." Adrien closed the apartment door behind him. "There is so much more that we can do."

Marinette exhaled. "I need to start making some sort of income again." She pulled out her phone. "With all of this, I want a routine again, but I want a better one. I can rebuild my ties to everyone once I can make time and do normal people things. Plus, rent will be due soon."

"Well what kind of job did you have before?" Adrien asked.

"Since I refused to really leave my apartment, I did online jobs. Mostly logo making, sketching, and animation." Marinette showed a picture of a design she made on her phone. "Being the designer and seamstress I was in high school, drawing was easily my forte. I design whatever my clients want and on rare occasions, make them." She explained. "It was a simple job to keep me going and the kwamis safe."

Adrien sat in the chair. "Will you resume your old job or pursue new work?"

"Probably both." Marinette shrugged.

"Well I can pay for anything you need." Adrien offered.

"No you won't." Marinette looked away from her phone, and fell back resting her arm behind her head. "I'll survive on my own for now." She clarified. "And what's your job anyway? Are you still a model? Whatever it is, how did you take so long of a leave? I don't know because I haven't been keeping track of you since high school."

"I do model, but not nearly as much as I used to and on my own terms." He answered. "My father wishes to pass his company down to me one day, so I'm actually working with him now. I can leave when I want and make my own decisions, so when I did venture to find you, all they needed was a note. No explanations necessary." Adrien moved to the edge of her bed. "I've worked with my father as an equal ever since he stopped his reign as Hawkmoth. It's been peaceful."

"I'm glad." Marinette smiled, swiping through her phone to see pictures of her with her family. She stopped at one where they were all smiling. "Thank you for joining me to visit my parents today."

"I'm sure they'll be seeing me a lot in the future." Adrien smirked.

Marinette sat up to see Adrien grinning at her. "What's with that smile?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy." He answered.

"I'm a little suspicious." Marinette squinted. "That smile has Chat Noir's confidence and boldness written all over it."

"Well maybe it's that part of my personality that you like best." Marinette blushed. Adrien took her hands and sighed. "You know, if we're . . . reforming our lives and all . . . why don't we get a place together? Just something small to start. It doesn't have to be complex, but it might be fun." He stared at her eyes with hope.

Marinette leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. "Your offer is enticing." She held his hand tightly. "That all would've been a dream of mine years ago . . . but . . . now . . . I want to take things slow." Adrien's eyes saddened. "Not forever." Marinette held his cheeks, love in her eyes. "I don't want to rush. I've spent my whole life overthinking ever situation and running, but now I can calm down and relax like you said before. If we love each other . . . than time shouldn't have a toll on us."

Adrien's hands covered hers. "I understand." He smiled. "Always and forever, right?"

"Always." Marinette beamed.

"I'll wait as long as I need to." He insisted.

"Not eternity." Marinette took his hand and interlocked their fingers. "And you do get your perks that neither of us had before."

Adrien kissed her knuckles. "I'll enjoy every minute of them."

#miraculous ladybug #the new guardian #alice pink #alicepink-me #adrien agreste #MIRACULOUS: TALES OF LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR #marinette dupain cheng #ladybug #chat noir #romance

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missbrightsky · 4 years

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Velaris National Park

Fics Masterlist

Chapter 1

Green light filtered through the canopy, patches of gold peppering the road ahead. Rolled down windows allowed the late spring air weave through the car, carrying the scent of growing things and warmth to wrap around us.

Elain had some 2000s pop station pouring from the speakers, all of us belting out the familiar words to our audience of Mother Nature. Nesta had called shotgun at the beginning, leaving me to have the back seat to stretch out, propping my feet on the bag that held our borrowed tent.

It was May in Prythian, warm and good and green. I had just graduated from my master’s program in Art History, my whole future stretching out ahead of me. Elain had insisted we celebrate but all of us were in educational debt and couldn’t afford to fly anywhere. Ever the florist, she found a state park a few hours away that boasted the largest collection of wildflowers in the country, one especially that bloomed once every three years. And because Elain was always lucky, this year was one of the few that it blooms in full.

A few days after graduation, she managed to wrangle Nesta away from the publishing house and me away from my couch and stuffed us all into her 2005 Honda.

Velaris National Park

Turn off 5 miles

Elain’s singing broke off mid-verse, a squeal replacing the lyrics as she pointed out the sign. I could only smile at her excitement; camping was never really our family’s thing, but her happiness was too infectious. At least I had managed to throw my sketchbook and watercolor pencils into my bag before she dragged me out the door. It had been a while since I had done some wildlife sketching, there was not a lot of green space or biodiversity in the city.

She turned down the music while Nesta and I straightened in our seats, ready to hop out of the car and get blood flowing back into our legs.

Even Nesta who normally tolerated Elain’s antics had a ghost of a smile playing around her lips, the fresh air loosening her iron grip on her emotions.

Elain slowed the car, turning right before the massive stone wall that announced the entrance to the park, gravel crunching under the tires.

The rough road weaved with the terrain, up and down and curving around hills and patches of meadows that peaked through the trees. We even rumbled over a wooden bridge that spanned the banks of a sparkling stream, the water throwing shimmering rainbows into the air.

A low log cabin-like building greeted us, its small parking lot only holding a Jeep with the park logo on the side and another car.

Elain turned the car off and all of us popped our doors open, slightly stumbling as our legs reacclimated to moving. Small groans slipped out of our mouths as we stretched feeling back into our lower halves, taking in the new environment.

A small sign in the window informed us of the park’s office hours and the emergency phone line. Elain pushed in first, a petite ding announcing our arrival.

The inside was a simple, square room, half the room stocked with souvenirs and anything campers may need in a pinch. A long, low counter ran along the back wall with an open doorway hinting at the back room. This was where a perky blonde emerged, greeting them with a bright smile. Her long hair was braided down her back, a forest green polo stamped with the logo somehow accented her curves instead of looking dorky and too stiff.

“Hi! Welcome to Velaris National Park. I’m Mor, what can I help y’all with today?”

“Hello! I’m Elain and these are my sisters Nesta and Feyre,” she gestured to each of us in turn, we all shook her hand, surprised to find it calloused and strong.

“How long do y’all plan on staying?”

“Two nights, please. And if you can point out on a map where the Starfall flower will be blooming?”

Mor laughed, a grin splitting her mouth. “I should’ve guessed, this is some of our busiest weeks of the year. Well, you’re in luck, we have only a few campsites left. Any preference to where?”

“None at all, we’re not too picky.”

“Perfect, how about y’all take site 20. It’s near the trailheads and not too far from the bathrooms.”

Elain turned to confirm with us, we each nodded back. Our lack of experience had us indifferent to where we camped, as long as it wasn’t out in the middle of nowhere.

Elain and Mor exchanged money and maps, paying for our spot and pointing out the major landmarks of the park.

“We do allow fires, as long as they’re in the designated fire pits. Please use the trash cans we have all along the park, anyone caught littering can be fined up to 200 dollars along with not being allowed to revisit the park. No glass or alcohol on park grounds. If y’all need anything, please don’t hesitate to call up to here the main office, and the numbers for our rangers are on the maps, along with the emergency line. Further into the park, cell service can get a little spotty, but as long as you stay near the trails, our rangers can spot you if you get into trouble. A little tip, don’t feed the wildlife, we have them on a diet,” she finished with a laugh and a wink. We laughed along with her, it was easy to feel a friendship forming with the bright woman.

“Well if that’s all y’all need, just keep following the road and you’ll see the signs pointing out the campsite. Parking gets a bit limited so try not to double park.”

We thanked her and headed out to pile back into the car.

As we were pulling out and getting back onto the road, I spotted one of the rangers on top of a horse.

The animal was tall, taller than any of the horses I had ever encountered before, and blacker than the deepest night sky. Its rider was sitting perfectly still, used to having to blend into the background.

I stifled a gasp. The ranger was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. I was too far away to see the color of his eyes, but they peeked through the leaves, boring into mine. His shoulders were broad, covered with a khaki shirt, he gripped the horse with powerful legs clad in dark green pants that were tucked into wore brown boots.

Our car soon turned a corner, breaking my gaze from his, banishing me of the spell he had cast.

More gorgeous forest passed us by, feeding my artist's mind with texture and light and color. Maybe this trip would replenish my weary mind after years of rigorous study. I loved every minute of my classes, but it left little free time for drawing and painting.

Wooden signs ticked up, eventually indicating where our sight was. Once again parking, we exited the car and took in the scenery.

We were to share a small common area with a few other campers, picnic tables and grills dotting the grassy area. Two cars were already parked there, brightly colored tents peeking out from the bushes that gave each sight a bit of privacy. Under a massive oak tree, there was a ring of rocks that held gray and black ashes from prior fires, stumps surrounding it for us to sit and enjoy the company.

I grabbed the tent from the backseat and slung my pack over my shoulder, leading the way to the small clearing that would be our home for the next few days. It was simply packed dirt, slightly raised from the rest of the ground so that if it rained, our tent would not get flooded.

I had never set up a tent before but with the instructions from the bag combined with the store owners’ tips, it was soon popped up in no time. Maybe only slightly leaning to the left but that would be a problem for later.

Nesta had pulled out our coolers of food, prepping sandwiches for a late lunch. Elain was already off in the surrounding area, making notes of the greenery and wildflowers that grew nearby. It was not the elusive Starfall but it did not take much for her to get wrapped up in flora.

Satisfied at my work, I tossed our bags into the tent and zipped it up. We could unpack after a bit of exploring.

Joining Nesta at the table, I swiped one of the completed sandwiches, ignoring her protest to wait for Elain. She was the one who refused to stop for lunch so she would just have to get the next one.

My fingers itched to start drawing the massive oak tree, its complex branches and multicolored leaves begging to be noticed and put onto paper. My stomach, however, told me it can wait.

Nesta somehow pulled Elain away from a blue flower, convincing her that it won’t disappear in the next 15 minutes.

“So, what’s first on the agenda, sis?” I asked her.

“Well it is getting a little late so I don’t want to go too far before it gets dark, but I thought we could start with one of the short trails!” Elain radiated energy, feeding off the teeming forest around us.

I smiled back at her, excited to start cataloging the world around us. We finished off the sandwiches and repacked the coolers into the car. One thing we all learned from watching TV was to not let wild animals get into a camper’s stash of food.

A quick trip into the tent had us changed into t-shirts, shorts and tennis shoes with light jackets tied to our waists. Even with Prythian warming up, the nights could still get a bit cool.

Elain consulted the map Mor gave us, confidently leading us to the first trailhead. It was only two miles long and would introduce us to the wildlife we could see in the park.

Every few hundred feet, plastic signs would pop up, listing fun facts about the park and giving an example of some of its inhabitants. Some would show a burst of color followed by the flower’s common name, scientific name and any medicinal or historical facts about it. Others would tell you how to spot an animal camouflaged in the surrounding foliage.

We all talked and joked with each other, with no tension that usually accompanied us when we got together. Nesta told us a story about an author that tried to sneak in her friends’ manuscript that turned out to be an awful rendition of Twilight and Fifty Shades of Grey. By the end, all of us were in stitches and barely able to walk, clinging onto tree trunks and each other in an attempt to stay upright.

Just as the sky was glowing orange and pink, the trail delivered us back to the beginning of the campsites, all we had to do was follow the gravel road back to ours.

The smell of meat and potatoes set our stomachs growling, the sandwiches from earlier long gone from the hike and laughter.

The other campers that were out earlier had returned.

“Howdy!” one of the men shouted at us waving his arm. He looked to be in his late fifties with combed back salt and pepper hair, sporting cargo pants and a navy long sleeve to ward off any wayward cool breezes.

We all gave back nervous smiles, unsure of who our neighbors were.

“Kevin,” a voice scolded, “you can’t just yell at unsuspecting young girls.” The source of the admonishment appeared from the bushes.

“Sorry about my husband, he’s just excited to have more company,” a man apologized. He also looked to be in his fifties, a bit shorter than Mike but leaner. Dark brown skin was covered in matching cargo pants, but a faded Prythian U sweatshirt covered his torso.

“I’m Raymond, this is our third night at the park.”

We tried not to look too relieved as we shook his hand. All of us had experience taking care of ourselves but we were in the middle of a national park with the other nearest humans about 50 yards down the road.

Kevin looked appropriately sheepish as he came to greet us. “Sorry about that, I am excited to have more company. The couple that’s over there just keeps glaring at us and avoids us like the plague.” His words were playful enough but there was a deeper sadness buried in his eyes as if he was used to this sort of treatment.

“Well it’s awesome to meet you,” Elain gushed, ever the social butterfly. “I’m Elain and these are my sisters, Nesta and Feyre. We’re here in celebration of Feyre graduating!”

“Congratulations! Where from?” Raymond asked.

“Well you’re actually wearing my college right now,” I replied with a smile. There were tons of people who went to Pryth U but it was always fun to meet someone who graduated there in the past.

I fell into conversation with Ray, who insisted on using the shorter version of his name about the campus and how much it has changed from when he was there. He was an engineering major but still asked me a million questions about the art history department and why I wanted to get my masters there. Elain roped Kevin into a debate about botany and the best soil for growing tulips in. It sounded like he was also in the flower business and was here to see the blooming of Starfalls.

Nesta was never one to make easy friends and opted to start our dinner, taking over the grill next to Kevin’s. Tonight was burgers with potato chips and then s’mores for dessert that would be roasted over the campfire.

Dinner was full of lively conversation under the night sky. We were far enough away from the city’s light pollution that we were able to make out constellations that we had only read about and see the dusting of galaxies that spanned the sky.

“And that’s when the professor realized he had designed a system that looked exactly like a dick!” We burst out laughing at the end of Ray’s story from his time in college, even Nesta couldn’t keep her giggles contained at the raunchy tale.

Our cheeks were rosy from the fire that crackled happily before us, the smell of burnt marshmallow filling the air. As perfect as Nesta was at everything, it took her a few tries to get the timing and distance right for roasting.

“Sounds like I missed a hell of a tale,” the new midnight voice sent shivers down my spine.

“Ah! Rhys! I was wondering when you would show up,” Kevin greeted the newcomer. “Where are Cas and Az?”

The figure stepped into the ring of light and perched on an open stump beside Feyre. I forced myself not to freeze and stare at him. It was the same man I saw on top of the horse.

Closer up I could see how his dark hair shone blue in the firelight, no longer hidden beneath the Mountie hat he wore earlier.

He shifted his body to angle slightly towards me, catching my eyes with his. They were so blue they seemed to be an impossible violet, sparking with hidden laughter at an inside joke. “They’re right behind me,” he said without breaking eye contact with me.

I forced my eyes to drop to the page I was intermittently sketching on. I was lucky that I had started a new outline of the stream we passed on the way in instead of still having the sketch of him on his horse open. Hopefully the blush that was already on my cheeks hid the new blood that was rushing there.

“What was all that laughing about? I hope someone was making fun of Rhys,” another male voice called out as he came into view. He was tall and even more well-muscled than the man beside me but had his dark hair pulled into a low bun on the nape of his neck and his eyes glowed amber.

Rhys broke his stare at me to twist to the man, “No, I was telling them about the time you got stuck in what you thought was quicksand but turned out to be just a massive mud pit,” he shot back. The group laughed at the retort, including me while trying to shake off my embarrassment.

He pouted at the memory, “Aw com’on, you promised you would stop bringing that up.”

“Never in your dreams, brother.”

“Cas, come sit by me and have a s’more, I’m sure you thought you were right at the time,” Kevin teased, offering a marshmallow already speared on a stick. Cas threw one more sulky look at Rhys and walked over to where Kevin and Nesta were sitting. Nesta sized up the addition, bracing herself for interaction.

Cas saw her reaction, immediately forgetting his brother’s teasing. There was a new opponent to spare with. He aimed a feral grin at her, spurring her to narrow her eyes at his assessment.

A final figure, presumably Az, emerged from the dark, almost as if melting from it. He nodded a polite greeting to the group opting to stand near Ray and Elain. It took no time at all for her sister to draw him into a conversation about what all she can see at the park and if she was allowed to take any wildflower clippings home to preserve.

I turned back to my book, darkening the path the water took over, around and through the stones on the creek bed. The weight of Rhys’s gaze settled over me, making me tighten my grip on the pencil.

“You’re a good artist,” he remarked.

I smiled slightly in his direction. “I would hope so, I staked most of my career on it.”

“You do this professionally?”

“Well, I hope so someday,” I admitted, “I just graduated with a master’s in art history.”

“Really? Congrats. What’s next for you?”

He finally succeeded in pulling me away from the drawing, meeting his gaze again, looking for any sign of mockery at my chosen path. Most heard the words “art history” and assumed I would become a starving artist or elementary art school teacher.

There was no trace of judgment in his face, only open curiosity.

“In my dreams, I would open up my own studio, maybe a few galleries. For now, I’ve applied to a few museums as a curator and I have an interview with one of them next week.”

“I hope it goes well, anyone who can draw that well must know a thing or two about Picasso.”

I barked a laugh at his statement, “I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong you are,” giggling my way through the sentence. “You won’t believe the number of students I met who couldn’t tell the difference between Picasso and their own ass.”

His eyes flashed with surprise, followed by laughter rich and clear as a bell spilling from his mouth. “I can believe it, I’ve met my fair share of idiots in this world.”

“I bet, being a park ranger must set you up for a whole slew of idiots who watched one episode of Bear Grylls and thinks they can survive out here with nothing more than their wits.”

His face jokingly darkened, “Do. Not. Get. Me. Started.”

“Please, start,” my sketch was now long forgotten, pulled into his expressive voice and body. He wove the tale of a couple that thought they could go all Naked and Afraid only 20 feet off the trail, managing to get as far as cutting down a few trees to start a shelter before another camper contacted them and they were able to stop them from scarring any more people.

My cheeks hurt from the constant smiling and laughter, unable to stop myself from leaning closer to catch every detail.

By the end of his story, our knees were brushing each other every few seconds, both of us catching our breath. He paused at the end, taking the small bubble we had trapped ourselves in.

His eyes dipped to brush my lips before meeting mine again. My breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his gaze, heat blooming across my cheeks and down my neck. Our shared air was sweet with chocolate and heavy with anticipation…

A hiss startled us apart.

Across the fire, Nesta looked to be about two seconds away from slapping Cas, fury twisting her face into a knot. Cas looked like he was the cat that got the cream, lazily reclining against the stump, looking up into her wrathful face.

“And that’s our queue,” Rhys muttered under his breath. “It was wonderful to talk with you. I’ll see you around the park.”

I blinked a few times, mentally shaking myself out of the trance he put me in. “Uh, yeah sure, see you around.”

“Cas, Az,” his voice was sharp, “We need to go to the next campsite. Thank you for the s’mores and have a good evening everyone.” He pulled his brothers away, retreating into the dark. From the blackness came the sound of a sharp slap and angry words being whispered.

Everyone exchanged awkward looks at their departure. Nesta was still fuming, glaring at the direction they disappeared in. Feyre and Elain knew better that the question her on what Cas said, knowing it would only infuriate her more.

“It’s been a long day, and we have a lot of hiking tomorrow,” I broke through the tension, “I’m off to bed.” Elain and Nesta got up to join me, bidding Kevin and Raymond good night and that they’ll see them for breakfast.

Elain and I exchanged worried looks behind Nesta’s back, but it would be better to let her sleep it off. She was quick to anger but given time, could squash it back down.

We all climbed into the tent, leaving our shoes by the door. It was colder away from the fire, so we didn’t waste time layering on warmer clothes and crawling into our respective sleeping bags.

I fell asleep with purple eyes burning behind my eyelids, chasing me through my fitful dreams.

Next Chapter

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #sjm #sjmaas #sjm books #sjmaas books #feyre #feyre x rhysand #rhysand #cassian #azriel #morrigan #amren

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vagrantblvrd · 6 years

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The Moon and Its Eclipse (1/1)

Summary: Gavin’s patrolling the forest when he hears the sound of rattling bones followed by a startled yell.

Notes: Prompt fill for @miss-ingno from who asked for Freewood Minecraft Kings AU.

AO3

Gavin’s patrolling the forest when he hears the sound of rattling bones followed by a startled yell.

His clothing allows him to blend into the forest around him, and he creeps forward to see a figure backed up against the base of a cliff. To Gavin’s surprise there are several wither skeletons ranged around him, keeping to the shadows cast by the towering trees.

It’s rare for them to cross over from the Nether, but not unheard of.

The ground where the wither skeletons have stepped hisses softly, corruption dripping from the blackened bones burning the fragile grass. Gavin can see spots on the man’s armor that have come into contact with the corruption, metal pitted scored, leather scorched.

He seems to have held his own so far. The bodies of zombie and scattered piles of bones from skeleton archers attest to that much, but the wither skeletons present an added difficulty with their corruption.

A single touch enough to afflict a living creature, doom them to a painful, lingering death.

The man is clearly tired. Breathing hard and a fine sheen of sweat on his brow, moving sluggishly when one of the wither skeletons feints towards him.

Gavin draws his bow and fires in the same motion. His arrow flies true as it lodges in the skull of a wither skeleton, snapping the tether of dark magic animating it. He takes a second arrow form his quiver and targets a second wither skeleton,and another after that, as the mob turns to face the new threat.

The man wastes no time, taking advantage of the distraction Gavin’s provided him as he engages the wither skeletons. Between the two of them they make short work of the wither skeletons in a matter of moments.

Gavin jumps down from his perch, and stops short when the man swings around to face him, sword at the ready.

Gavin holds his hands up, and can’t help the smirk when he sees the man’s crown.

One of the great and mighty kings, in his forest? Interesting.

“Your majesty,” he says. “You’re a long way from home.”

The king’s eyes narrow, chin lifting at his tone.

“And you are?”

Gavin lowers his hands when it becomes clear the king isn’t going to put his sword to use in attacking him just yet. (Poor form, he supposes, when Gavin’s just saved his life.)

“Just a simple archer,” Gavin says, because titles and royalty aren’t much use out here. Tend to cause more trouble than they’re worth.

He can see the king wrestling with his sense of decorum. All sorts of manners and etiquette that have been drilled into since birth, and his too-human nature as he regards Gavin.

As moments pass without the the king speaking, Gavin shrugs and turns to leave. His patrol is only half done, and he’d like to be home before dark falls and the mobs come out in force.

He’s at the edge of the clearing when the king finally speaks, sounding as though the word’s been torn from him.

“Wait!”

Gavin’s tempted to keep walking. Slip into the forest and leave the king behind to whatever task has brought him well bast his kingdom’s borders, but there’s something very close to desperation in his voice. (Sound of a man swallowing his pride and cursing the need for it.)

Looking back at him, the king seems very small in that moment.

Human.

Shoulders bowed by exhaustion and the burden of whatever weight he’s carried with him all this way.

“My horse was killed when the wither skeletons attacked, and I’ve lost my way,” he says, and there’s the annoyance Gavin expected, although it’s directed at himself rather than the scruffy archer before him. “I don’t suppose you could point me towards the nearest village?”

No towns or villages for miles, just a rough settlement half a day’s walk to the west.

The king might be able to barter for a new mount there, if he loses that haughtiness he wears like ill-fitting armor.

“For a fee,” Gavin says, and grins at the wary look it gets him as he walks back towards the king. “Something, simple, your majesty, for a simple archer.”

The king tips his head to the side.

“Somehow,” he says, “I doubt that.”

Gavin laughs, because this king is a clever one, it seems.

“Fair play,” Gavin says, and steps closer still. Smiling at the way the king refuses to give ground to him. “Then I’ll settle for the pleasure of knowing your name.”

Stories say there’s power in a name, that the fae would trick foolish humans into handing their names over and come to regret it all too soon.

Gavin doesn’t know that he believes in any of that, but it’s always interesting to see how people will react when asked for such a simple thing.

The king hesitates only briefly.

“Ryan,” he says, and no more, wry twist to his mouth as he waits to see how Gavin will react.

Gavin laughs as he sketches a little bow to this king, this Ryan.

“Well then, King Ryan, allow me to act as your guide this lovely day.”

Ryan huffs as he sheathes his sword.

“I’m honored,” he says, and though his voice is flat, devoid of humor when he speaks, Gavin can see the reluctant amusement in his eyes.

It’s a long way to the settlement from here, but Gavin has hope he’ll be able to satisfy his curiosity along the way. Discover what brings a king like Ryan this far from the safety of his kingdom.

#freewood #miss-ingno #kings au #Prompt Fills #Kings of Nowhere #vagrant fic #lololol 3 sentences XD

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awkwardanime · 6 years

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Awkward Anime Episode 14.1: When Marnie was There - Anna’s Step Forward

In 2014, Studio Ghibli released another visual adaptation of a classic novel after the well received Secret World of Arrietty in 2010, this time with Joan G. Robinson’s When Marnie Was There, originally published in 1967. Anna Sasaki, a 12 year old orphan who lives with her foster mother (and father, who’s never around), is socially alienated and resentful after the death of her mother and grandmother. Always on the outside looking in, she’s sent to the seaside to live with a kind couple (relatives of the foster Mother), in hope of not only helping her asthma with the fresh sea air, but to have the quiet breeze and the coastal lifestyle bring Anna’s spirits up.

After the success of his directorial debut with The Secret World of Arrietty in 2010, Hiromasa Yonebayashi decided to take up the chance to bring Marnie to the big screen, this time without having to be conscious of the thoughts of Hayao Miyazaki, who co-wrote the screenplay for Arrietty. With full creative control promised this time around, the Director’s main intention was to create a visualisation of Joan G. Robinson’s detailed descriptive words that expressed the familiar feeling of anxiety for young people, hoping it would help those in a similar situation to take that step forward.

“I thought many people who live in this constricted present-day society could also share this empathy”

Hiromasa Yonebayashi knew in what way to visualise and tell this story, doing so in a similar way to that of Arrietty, with focus solely towards character development. By surrounding the protagonist with emphasis on atmosphere,the audience is able to connect with Anna from the very start. The opening scene epitomises what the long term Ghibli employee’s principles comprises of, along with the knowledge he has gained from working under the famous Hayao Miyazaki and Isao Takahata.

“I think the environments and relationships that surround people who are afflicted have a great impact on their psychological healing”

The Studio always sets its tone for the film from the word go, telling us who is the main piece to the puzzle and what the feature length picture will be about. When Marnie is There’s opening 2 minutes is no different, as we see toddlers playing in a small playground as a young student sits in a somewhat reclusive way. Knees touching, arms close together as she continues sketching the scenery around her. As her classmates sit in their own groups chatting away, the thoughts of this girl are told to the viewers, setting the tone:

“In this world, there’s an invisible magic circle…the circle has an inside and outside… these people are on the inside… and I’m on the outside…but I don’t really care.”

Hesitant to hand over her sketch book to the teacher, she is saved by the fall of a child. Mere seconds later, clutching the book close to her chest as beads of sweat appear, we are told as to what the main theme will be. I love this scene. Perfectly visualising what an anxiety attack can feel like, just the small task of having to show her art to a teacher leaves her worrying. It is important to point out that the attack she had is described as an asthma attack, but it is clear to see that Yonebayashi focused on the mind of this character to be seen as the cause of her attacks, and not a symptom. What I found to be interesting is that with all the people around her enjoying themselves on this sunny day, her pencil sketch was only that of the playground, showing the view in its simplest form. I loved that Yonebayashi added this touch to enhance the insecurities of Anna. No people to burden herself with, alone… that’s what she’s comfortable with. We get the descriptive definition of who Anna is at the start, both through her thoughts and the wonderfully drawn facial expressions on a simple school day. The last line we hear as the scene ends sums up who Anna is at this moment, giving the audience that compassion and hope for a pleasant ending:

“I hate myself”

Yonebayashi's idea with Anna was to portray a 12 year old girl. The pre-teen is filled with much negativity within herself that leads her to become this silent, angry girl. Arriving at the seaside, I as a viewer immediately was shown the setting that would be the focal point to lifting Anna’s spirits. Her relatives are a laid back and down to earth couple, the Oiwas, completely the opposite of Anna thus we see her fake smiles quite a lot here. As much as I love the Oiwas in this story, I would have liked to see some type of confrontation between them and Anna as they are a little too relaxed about Anna disappearing at night and insulting one of the local daughters - to bring a little more depth to both characters I feel an argument or talk would have really brought even more insight into Anna’s thoughts and feelings. That being said, I understand the roles Yonebayashi chose for the couple here, as it could be said this is just what Anna wanted and needed at this time in her life. Letting her enjoy the time however she wants, to not be overbearing which definitely is something we all craved as an adolescent.

“Anna builds a wall around her, she refuses help from the outside, but at the same time she’s screaming out for it as well, and eventually she realises she’s loved by the people around her and she’s gradually adapting to the realities of life”

Anna’s uneasiness emanates from her belief that she belongs nowhere and that she has no true family. What becomes apparent quickly is that this is a film about belonging and family. Those are the two main themes I feel are present throughout, all for the end goal to be Anna being able to actively explore her surroundings, chasing for answers about her family herself - which leads her to Marnie. Connecting with Marnie, Anna suddenly feels part of something, part of a friendship. Instantly connecting with this secret girl who lives in the distant Marsh House, the two’s relationship is definitely an almost interdependent type of friendship, however different they may be. As important as Marnie is in this narrative, the main point of this animated feature was to express the feelings of adolescence and anxieties within young people.

Anna Sasaki’s journey from a lonely depressed girl, to someone who’s full of life and happy is a very honest representation of what losing connection to those around you can lead to. There is an emotional complexity in this film that I have never seen in the very best Disney films. Forget mature children, adults need to sit down and battle with these themes. A film about a young girl standing on the outside looking in, battling her insecurities day by day, to later become someone who is so in touch with everyone and everything around her. Visually presenting the importance of how to overcome low self esteem and depression; treating the audience with respect and maturity, When Marnie Was There is a must see.

“There are so many children who feel lonely and separate from others, cut off from others, even though they’re always connected by SMS. They still feel left out, or feel lonely. But when they see Marnie, maybe they could take a little step forward. If they could do that, then maybe it’ll have been a worthwhile work to do”

Please share if you enjoyed this analysis and remember to eat those tiny trees!

Check out previous Eps:

Ep 13 - Hotarubi no Mori E

Ep 12 - The Wind Rises

Ep 11 - The Secret World of Arrietty

Ep 10 - Tokyo Godfathers

Ep 9 - Garden of Words

Ep 8 - Kimi No Na Wa

Ep 7 - The Boy and the Beast

Ep 6.2 - Fading innocence of Ame

Ep 6.1 - Wolf Children Poster

Ep 5 - My Neighbor Totoro

Ep 4 - Summer Wars

Ep 3 - Spirited Away

Ep 2 - Koe no Katachi

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masterdungeonguide · 6 years

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Adventure Ideas #1

This is a lose idea for adventure. Not a perfectly fluent ready to run module. A mere sketch if you will.

For convenience of use, should a DM want to reference this straight from the web, the order of description is somewhat un-natural for reading placing the location up top and the backstories and plots at the bottom of this post.

Lets get on with it...

The Cave Of The Invisible Ugly

Somewhere in the wildlands not very far from simple civilisations of farmers and foresters some streams come together and dissapear under ground and have carved out natural caves over the ages.

It has hosted many different inhabitants mostly animals and some times small bands of creatures.

In recent times from two unlikely events the inhabitants are somewhat different and are tied to a wave of dissapearing items in nearby homes.

There are three possible ways to enter and exit this cave to the outdoor levels. At 1) working ones way down the pond falls to a room. At 6) where the dryed out stream came in from the north-west, and through the small grass covered window that leads straight down to Orvar's work-shop.

1 Main Entrance Chamber

The small stream from the south west trickles down over some grey bare stones into a small pond that sits at the edge of a round cave room. The floor is a flat moist surface of brown sediment that has filled much up what was once flooded with water.

There is a good chance a perceptive character can spot tracks of footsteps in it. Most from troglodyte leaving and comming. Shoe prints from Orvar having done the same and from animals who hide here from time to time.

The former lead inwards to and from some carefully placed stones that make a low staircase up to the passage.

Possible encounters:

A scouting troglodyte is just passing trhough here and will be startled at the adventurers presence

A predator animal is feasting on a cadaver in the cave room that may react violently

2 High Passage

Leading upwards this tunnel ends in a small climb up to a ground above right next to the wooden door. It's easily spotted from tracks and the clearing of boulders that this path has been frequently used. It is the alternative walk around to a wade through a pond at the other end of it.

A small drop in the middle of the passage leads to a low natural cave room. A DC 20 to climb up and out of but not a hard one to jump down into. You may place abducted prisoners and or corpse here. Victims of the raiding troglodyte outlaws.

3 Underground Pond

A very deep underground pond fills most of this place and a stream comming out of the cave wall in the west leads into it. The chamber is damp and drips from the ceiling. A layer of cold mist is in the air.

Explorers may be greeted by a disturbing site in the form of floating body parts. This is where the band of troglodytes often dispose of bodies they dragged in and are done looting. Most sink and stay at the bottom but sometimes fresh ones float up.

At the bottom quite a few valuables can be found still on the corpses however. The band only know so much of what to value. Holy symbols, spell books and other sofisticated items would have been ignored.

One has to swim or wade along the very edges of the cave walls to get across.

If a challenge is desired here the troglodyte band of outcasts has brought a creature from the deeps to help consume the bodies they dump into it.

A jellyfish like being of the under deep lakes from their realm that blindly consumes anything that it detects through smell.

A squall of purple big water leaches that suck every surface clean of organic tissue.

4 Dryed Out Water Shaft

This is to where the more rich streams of water flowed down in the past. A deep drop into the dark is at the center and a clear drafts of air can be heard from below. It's an absurd climb down and up but not impossible.

The troglodytes came up this way using root-ropes and a lifetime of climbing experience.

Should the adventures chose to dare these depts they first end up in a vast network of natural caves hard to navigate and still a far way from the realm of the toglodytes. This new adventure will not be covered here but up to the creativeness of the DM.

This largest open area around the deep pit from where they came is still where the bandits from below make their primary living quarters. Sleeping matts, containers, tools and such can be seen stacked up towards the walls. Some bizare game squares is marked near and around the pit. (Where the troglodytes plays a game of 'live or die' with live catches of animals). In day times most of the troglodytes are here passing time. At night fewer stay put as some are out scouting the surface and their leader is off on 'unseen' affairs with the nearby settlements.

5 Storage

A small cave chamber that used to flood completely before the dry out. The band of troglodytes use this far 'back room' to store valuables in one corner and food reserves in another. It stinks! From the food and from the blood that they did not bother wipe from some of the takings.

6 Dried Out Stream

This is the least likely entrance to the cave-complex but maybe a useful exit. A narrow tunnel leads off for a long while and eventually blends in to the layer of soil above that can be dug through. On a rainy day with some sliding soil by cheer absurd luck an adventurer could posible sink through enough with a wrong step to realise something is there.

7 Orvar's Home

A thick wodden door set againt crudely adjusted natural rock and sediment distinguishes the one entrance to this place from the others in the cave complex. A small window leading straight out into luch hillside above, it's other entrance (one of three possible ways for adventurers to find this cave complex). The place is modestly furnished but makes up a comfortable living area. Part of it closest to the widow is a tight combination of a small library and herb collections with a sturdy messy desk.

Consider the content of this place an equivalent to a component pouch of a spell-caster and the books as a source to various low level spells and how to make them into potions. If you wish some ready minor potions are available on the desk as well.

Depending on how the outcasts came across Orvars medallion the state he is in (dead, captured, barricaded in, or perhaps fled) his home could be broken into and ruined or just ignored or unable to break through.

PC's who have come here with prior knowlege of Orvars tale may find it peculiar to be furnished for two. As if to hint he has a regular guest. There are two beds and two sets of almost everything.

The Tale Of Orvar And Astelle

In a small settlement with tightnitted folks on the border of the forests they once had master spin weaver of very old age. Although well appreciated for her crafts she was somewhat feared and kept at distance for her nasty manners and hot temper.

Nobody had ever seen her with male company and though well past such age one winter to everyones big surprise she came to be pregant.

In the early spring the same year she gave birth to a truly hideous child.

So hideous, and more hideous as the years went by, that people started talking of it not being all human. Trolls, Hobgoblins and even Demons came to peoples mind. While the weaver had named him Orvar behind his back he came to be known as Gobman The Hiddeous. Distrusted and avoided by all.

Just a year later than The Master Spin-Weaver a jolly and respected forester familly also had a child. A pleasant charming daughter. Her Name was Astelle. The irresistable child loved by all.

By coincidence the foresters cottage lay only a few steps off from the weavers house where Orvar grew up and with no one else of the same age Orvar and Astelle played as friends in secret.

Well aware even as children the dislike the grown ups would have had to this acquaintance.

They grew very fond of each other, gave each other gifts for hollidays and left letters under a rock in their secret place. Astelle learning the foresting would bring materials and Orvar would know many crafts to form them.

No one knew how but from somewhere the hideous man also over the years picked up certain darker crafts like that of whitches and wizards. Particularly he was blamed for being able to walk unseen.

One could think that he merely granted them their wishes. To not have to look upon him but this only served to deepen the fear and distrust for him.

On one unfortunate evening when they were young adults and still the best of friends in secret they were after all these years spotted playing. It was immediately assumed this monstrosity of a man were chasing after fair Astelle with a romantic interest and there was outrage.

In the craze of vengence while some wanted to lock the abomination up, others to chase him away, a few sough to end his life, the master spin-weaver was slain refusing to let them in to her house while Astelle in secret helped Orvar to escape the towns wrath. Fleeing to the woodlands that she knew well and a to take refuge in a well hidden cave complex that she had found years earlier.

The spin-weavers son was never seen again but some year later suspicions of invisible stalkers and burglars have lead peoples mind to wonder if he is really gone.

Medalion Of The Unseen

A potent trinket that you as a DM may want to consider carefully before allowing into your PC's hands if you run this idea at level one. It is not without limitations however and those limitations are stronger the weaker the players saves are (effectively with level).

It's origin is not defined.

Is Orvar origin really of troll heritage and has the medallion been given by those mysterious creatures of the forest? Was the weaver a powerful witch with foresight to put her powers into this item to protect what she new would be a child to hide? I leave this to the reader as I aim to inspire creativity and flexibility.

When worn if one covers up it's field of view with ones hand the wearer dissapears from visibility of any kind in the world. Magic, divine or natural perceptions are all blind to the wearers prescence.

Made out of crude wood and artisticly flawed metal working this medallion portrays an eye.

The catch is; The eye want's to see and it will fight back to do so!

It burns the wearers hand and mind in a fire of pain that grows over time. Causing both constitution and wisdom saves that starts at a mild DC 10 but increases in difficulty for every 5 rounds. (The save has to be made every round but only increases at those intervals.)

An observant reader may note from below that our proposed stats for Orvar have him at abysmal constitution and mediocre wisdom. Orvar is used to the pain since he was a toddler however and should be treated as both always having advantage on the rolls and fight it at a reduced DC. (You may opt for a similar approach if a PC carries and uses this item over a period of years)

The Troglodyte Outcasts

Deep down far below our cave and away from mines of dwarves and gnomes there is a vast network. The realm of the troglodytes.

Alien in morals and customs to the races under the sky above but not without norms these deep dwellers form clans under a high chief. What they would call something of a 'familly' is in fact the whole realm.

Not long ago a very ambisious member of the realm betrayed the sacred rules of allegiance to ruling sisterhood. The queens of the realm. In his ambition to gain more influence he and a small group of allies murdered and hid one of the chosen females with the intent to replace her with one in his own sphere of allies. A female who like so many failed to qualify to the sisterhood.

The plot was uncovered and the conspiring group were forced to flee for their lives. In this vast realm only one direction could offer sanctity. Up. To the realm under the sky.

By chance these group of murderous traitors crossed path with an other outcast. One mistrusted for his appearance and his mothers reputation alone.

What came of this meeting is yet to be uncovered.

A conflict or an understanding of mutual benefits?

In any case the band of troglodyte outcasts and it's ambitious leader are in posession of a an amulette of invisibility. One that they use to raid nearby settlements. For items and riches and to abduct people. All the while the suspicions are directed towards The Ugly Who Could Walk Unseen that dissapeared some years ago. Is that monster back to take vengence?

Note: that these suggested creatures are our Troglodytes and as should be obvious not the MM ones. Here is another post on them:

https://masterdungeonguide.tumblr.com/post/178192126310/creatures-treassures-alien-realms-in-the

You can of course swap them out for something else that you think would fit the concept

Common Troglodyte Outcast: Armour: 'Medium' Scaly Hide, made out of deep dwelling worm-skin. Weapons: Bone Spears, Bone clubs, and bone Daggers (-1)Speed: 25, Hits: 1d6/level, Attack Bonus: +3

...

- All content in this post is free to use and distribute as desired. Even re-publish on your own game spot in any fashion that does not seek to profit from it. Crediting us is appreciated

- If anyone is interested this adventure was sketched out using Bamboo Paper on and iPad

Happy gaming!

#dungeons and dragons #rpg #dungeon master #dnd adventures #fantasy oc #dnd #adventure ideas

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