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waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

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Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Requested by @hstyleswritten : you and Tom make tik toks on set that test your friendship

Masterlist

“Hi tik tok.” You waved to your camera. “I’m not sure who’s gonna see this but I wanted to announce that I’ll be playing Black Cat in the MCU going forward. I just saw that the news broke online and-“

“-and she’s my girlfriend.” Tom jumped on your couch and wrapped his arms around you. “Did she tell you she’s my girlfriend? I finally got one.”

“All right, relax.” You chuckled as you playfully pushed Tom off of you. “I’m his girlfriend in the movies. Tom and I are just friends.”

“Why’d you have to kill my vibe?” He teased as he hugged you again. “Who is this video for anyway?”

“It’s for tik tok.” You told him.

“Oh. Hi tic tac!” He waved to your camera, making you burst out laughing.

“No it’s not…you know what? It doesn’t even matter. Bye tik tok.” You waved goodbye.

“Bye tic tac! Are they sponsoring you?” Tom asked as you posted the video.

“Uh uh.” You said sarcastically. “Tic Tac is sponsoring me. I get free breath mints for life.”

“Really?” Tom gasped. “You’re so lucky.”

“I’m joking.” You laughed. I don’t think they sponsor anyone. Wait, look. I already got a few thousand followers.”

Tom looked at your phone and patted your back to show he was impressed.

“Wow.” He smiled. “Look at you.”

“Please.” You rolled your eyes. “They’re following for you.”

“Darling, don’t be ridiculous.” Tom tutted as he pinched your cheeks. “They’re following to see this pretty face.”

“No.” You giggled as you pulled out of his grasp. “It’s for you.”

“We should make more of these.” Tom suggested.

“Oh, trust me.” You told him. “I plan to.”

“Hi Tik Tok. I’m on set right now. I can’t show you anything or I will be smited but look who I’m with.” You grinned as you rested your head on Toms shoulder and panned the camera to him.

“Hi.” Tom smiled at you. “What’s this for?”

“Tik tok.” You told him. “Say hi.”

“Hi tik tok.” Tom waved. “What is tik tok anyway?”

“It’s a dating app.” You told him casually as you posed.

“What?” He stammered, his jealously getting the better of him.

“I’m kidding.” You chuckled, making him sigh in relief. “It’s kinda like vine. Remember vine?”

“Is that that thing you showed me with the “road work ahead” guy?” Tom wondered, always confused with changing technology.

“Yeah, that’s it.” You laughed again at his choice of references.

“Uh, I sure hope it does.” Tom quoted in the style of the vine. “Was that good?”

“That was perfect.” You complimented, smiling at how he looked to you for approval. “I’m so posting this.”

Tom leaned on his hand and watched you fondly as you uploaded the video.

“How many followers do you have, love?” He asked as he gazed at you.

“13 million.” You showed him your phone and shook it proudly.

“Wow.” His eyes widened. “Already?”

“What can I say? They all want to see this pretty face.” You teased as you pinched his cheeks, just as he did to you.

“Unhand me, woman.” He laughed. “That’s seriously impressive. I can’t believe my best friend is the face of tic tacs.”

You rolled your eyes at his joke as he laughed at himself before checking the comments on your latest video.

“Okay I’ve been getting a bunch of comments to do more tik toks with Tom so I’m gonna pull some pranks on him.” You said as you set up your phone. “He should be coming to my trailer any minute.”

Soon enough, Tom opened your trailer door and set a package of baby carrots and some hummus on your counter.

“Hey.” You said stiffly, keeping your eyes on your phone.

“Hi beautiful.” Tom smiled at you. “Whatcha up to?”

“Nothing.” You mumbled. “Just sitting here.”

“Are you okay? You seem upset.” Tom noticed. You flicked your eyes to the camera and smirked a little before going in for the kill.

“You could have been nicer to be today.” You said quietly, still keeping your eyes down.

Toms eyes widened before filling with sadness as he took a seat next to you in the couch.

“I’m sorry, princess. What did I do that made you feel like that?” He apologized as he rubbed your back.

“Nothing. I don’t want to talk about it.” You said coldly as you turned away from him.

“Is this because I said my butt looked bigger in my suit than yours looked in your suit?” Tom asked, making you break.

“You didn’t say that.” You laughed as you turned around.

“But I’ve been thinking it all day.” He grimaced, resulting in you hitting him with a pillow.

“You think I didn’t see you camera?” He laughed as he pointed to your phone. “You’re making a clip clop.”

“It’s a Tik Tok.” You corrected as you hit him with another pillow. “And I hate you.”

“Guys. Send help.” Tom said as he grabbed your phone. “My best friend is trying to kill me.”

Tom let out a scream as you chased him but the video ending and perfectly cut off his scream. You burst out laughing when you watched it back and added some hashtags before posting it.

“How many followers are you at now?” He asked once you caught up to him and tackled him onto the bed.

“23 million.” You told him as you shook your phone in his face.

“Wow. All thanks to me.” He pretended to flip some hair behind his shoulder.

“Shut up.” You shoved him playfully. “I’m so gonna get you back for this.”

Your plan to get Tom back went into motion the following week when the two of you were hanging out in his trailer.

You set the camera up and gave it a thumbs up before putting your feet back in his lap. You watched him scrolling on his phone for a moment before letting out a loud sigh.

“Are you all right?” Tom immediately noticed your sigh.

“I’m fine.” You said flatly.

“You don’t sound fine.” Tom insisted as he rubbed his thumb against your ankle.

“I am.” You shrugged. “It doesn’t matter.”

“If somethings bothering you, it matters to me.” Tom said gently.

“Whatever.” You grumbled. “Don’t worry about it.”

Tom pouted for a moment when he realized he wouldn’t be getting through to you before an idea came to him. He sudden yanked you by the ankles onto his lap and began to tickle your sides.

“Are you fine now?” He teased as you burst into laughter. “Does this feel fine?”

“You can stop now.” You said between fits of laughter. “I’m okay. It was for a tik tok.”

“You’re making another tik tok?” He asked as he found the camera.

“Yup.” You smiled proudly as you reached for the camera. “Bye guys!”

Knowing Tom was in the eating area, you went to see him with another idea for a video. You discreetly set up your phone next to Tom before going through with your plan.

“Hi Tommy.” You greeted him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a kiss on his cheek before sitting down.

“Hi. Aw.” He chuckled fondly and rubbed your back as you sat down. “What was that for?”

“I just wanted to kiss you.” You shrugged.

“Aw.” He repeated as his cheeks heated up. “Thank you.”

Just as you hoped, Tom leaned in to kiss your cheek. You smiled warmly at him before wiping the kiss off with your sleeve.

“Did you just wipe it off?” Toms smile fell when he saw what you did.

“Hm?” You hummed as you leaned on your hand.

“You wiped my kiss off.” He repeated, visibly offended now.

“Sorry. It was a little wet.” You shrugged.

“So are my eyes in two minutes if you don’t let me give you another one.” Tom pouted.

“All right.” You agreed. “Try not to soak me this time.”

Tom kissed your cheek again and you gave it a minute before wiping it off.

“Oh My God.” He gasped and got up. “I’ve never been this insulted in my life.”

“Wait.” You laughed as you grabbed his hand. “Come back. It was for a tik tok.”

“Again?” He smiled in relief as he sat back down. “How do I keep falling for these?”

“I don’t know, but I’m glad you do.” You chuckled. “You’re getting me a lot of followers.”

“I’m telling you and tik tok right now.” Tom pointed at the camera. “I’m never falling for one again.”

“Yeah right.” You snorted. “He so is.”

And he so did.

“Hey.” You said causally as you walked in to Toms hotel room and found his sitting on the bed.

“Hi.” He said back as you knelt down in from of him. “Oh? What are we doing?”

“Just sit back.” You smiled at him, his eyes widening as you spread his legs apart. He leaned over to see what you were doing right as you picked up a pen you had planted under his bed earlier.

“Thanks.” You held up the pen. “I’ve been looking everywhere for this.”

“Wait, what?” Tom sputtered as you got up from the floor. “That’s it?”

“What’s it?” You asked innocently as you clicked the pen a few times.

“You were just getting a pen?” He gulped as he crossed his legs.

“What did you think I was doing?” You played dumb as you looked at him through your lashes.

“Nothing.” Tom said skeptically as he took a pillow from the bed and placed it over his lap.

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.” You tilted your head to the side.

“It doesn’t matter.” Tom muttered as he held the pillow down.

“Uh huh.” You nodded. “Is there a reason you’re crossing your legs?”

“No. For an unrelated reason, I have to use the bathroom.” He got up quickly, keeping the pillow where it was as he ran to the bathroom. You grabbed your phone and saved the video to your drafts, smirking to yourself as you watched it back. You posted it just as a very sheepish Tom came out of the bathroom.

“Good evening.” He said stiffly as he held his hands behind his back.

“Hey.” You chuckled. “Feeling better?”

“Yes.” He narrowed his eyes at you. “I do.”

“Good.” You smirked. “Glad to hear it.”

“You’re sneaky.” He pointed at you accusingly. “You’re a sneaky little snake and I don’t appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrugged simply.

“Oh, don’t you?” Tom mimicked you.

“Tom, come on. This isn’t fair.” You sighed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Stop being so hard on me.”

“I hate you.” Tom said decidedly as you giggled shamelessly. “I seriously hate you.”

“Aw. But I love you.” You pouted as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah, right.” He scoffed. “Was that for that stupid app?”

“Yep.” You popped the p. “Thanks for 30 million followers, by the way.”

“30 million?” He asked. “You’re gonna have to do something huge to get to 50 million.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” You told him. “I have just the thing.”

“Okay, Toms in the bathroom but he’s coming back any second. This has been the most requested one by far, so I’m gonna do it.” You smiled nervously. “This is the “kissing my best friend” challenge.”

Your hands shook as you set your phone up on the nightstand just as Tom came out of the bathroom.

“Come here.” You pulled Tom by the hand until he was next to you on the bed. “I wanna show you this song.”

Your thighs and shoulders were brushing as Electric Love played, a small smile resting on Toms lips as he listened to it.

“This is a nice song.” Tom said softly as he turned to you. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah. I really like it.” You mumbled as you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. Toms eyes widened in surprise before fluttering shut. He kissed you back eagerly, placing his hands over yours to keep you close. He pulled away after a moment and rested his forehead against yours, sighing happily as the music stopped.

“Did you actually want to kiss me or was that for a video?” He asked suddenly.

“Both.” You giggled before kissing him again. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now. Tik tok just gave me a perfect opportunity.”

“So that was real?” He asked hopefully. “That wasn’t one of your pranks?”

“No.” You shook your head, your noses brushing against each other. “It was not a prank.”

“Thank god.” He sighed in relief and covered your face in kisses. “I was planning on kissing you, by the way. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Uh huh.” You humored him as you uploaded the video. “Sure you were.”

“I was.” He insisted. “I had a whole speech planned.”

“Really?” You looked at him. “Tell me your speech?”

“Something along the lines of you’re beautiful, you’re magical, and I want to be your boyfriend more than anything.” He shrugged casually. “No biggie.”

“Aw. Too bad you were too chicken to say it.” You teased.

“Shut up.” Tom laughed. “I was gonna get there.”

“Look.” You showed him your phone. “I posted that less than five minutes ago and it already went viral.”

“What did I tell you?” Tom sighed happily.

“You told me what?” You looked at him curiously. He chuckled a little and pinched your cheeks.

“It’s all because of that pretty face.”

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beepboop358 · 3 years

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How Time Moves in the Upside Down

I've had this theory for awhile now but with all the increasing clock imagery in promos and since we know time is going to be a big theme in s4, I think it might finally be discussed**

I think the time theme in s4 could have 2 components:

The time theme will probably mainly be about the clocks representing memories and the characters will experience "time travel flashbacks", where they are essentially transported back to the time of the memory through the powers of the void/upside down.

** I think Time moves faster in the upside down, than it does in our dimension.

In s2, right before Will sees the shadow monster/mindflayer outside his front door, the camera pans over some things in his house.

The dining room, a dripping water faucet, and then a zoom in on the drips (water has significant in the show relating to the upside down/El's powers-maybe Will's too), and a clock, which is ticking abnormally fast.

Here's the clip: (sorry for the terrible quality I had to record my laptop screen with my phone because Netflix doesn't let you screen record)

When the front door of his house opens, Will sees a storm in the upside down. The camera focuses in on the goosebumps on the back of Will's neck, and he always gets goosebumps on the back his neck (and touches it) whenever the mindflayer is close in s3.

This is one of Will's seeing into the upside down dimension/splitting two worlds moments, like a "view master caught between two slides". Will is able to split between both our dimension and the upside down and inhabit both through his powers, and what everyone else calls " at first believes are "episodes" he is having, before they realize it's all real and not just in his head. Will isn't just having a vision of the upside down, he's really there (confirmed by the goosebumps on his neck and the vines on his house - and we also find out later in the season), which is how we know the clock in his house moving abnormally fast is a reference to how time moves in the upside down.

To confirm that the clock is actually moving faster, I timed the clip and estimated how fast the clock was moving to compare.

The clock clip begins with the secondhand just past 12, and ends with the secondhand in between 2 and 3:

Analog clocks like this one have 5 SECONDS between each hour-marking number. Here, the second hand moves through the 12 section, past the 1, past the 2, and on is way to 3, which is roughly 9-12 seconds, but the actual clip is only about 6.5 SECONDS long.

I tried to get a fairly accurate estimate of how many seconds pass in this clip by making second marks (but badly lol) and it looks like the clock's secondhand starts between the 1st and 2nd second (it's really hard to tell if it should be on the 1st or 2nd second because my lines are not 100% accurate so I'm saying its in the middle to be safe lol). The clip ends in the second image between the 1st and 2nd second, but it looks like it is almost on the 2nd second, so I'm going with that.

This estimate would put it at 10.5 seconds long, definitely faster than the real time clip length of 6.5 seconds. Will is in the upside down, splitting dimensions during this scene, so this proves time moves faster in the upside down.

And then because I'm insane I also tried to calculate the ratio to determine exactly how much faster time moves in the upside down than in our dimension to find out how long Will really was in the upside down in the way he experienced it. 10.5 divided by 6.5 comes out to 1.61538462. The ratio can also be calculated as 21:13, but still comes out to the same 1.61538462.

In conclusion, time moves 1.61538462 times faster in the upside down than it does in our dimension. (roughly)

Will was in the upside down for 7 days (a week) in our dimension’s time, but for Will he experienced that time as 11 days, because thats how much time passed in the dimension he was in. (7/11 reference)

Because time moves faster in the upside down, more time actually passes, not less. Like in the clock clip; 10.5 seconds pass in the upside down while 6.5 seconds pass in our dimension. Think interstellar vibes. The perception of time varies between worlds/dimensions. I haven't seen this concept explicitly in any 80's movies so please let me know if you have!

I won’t bore you all by just writing out math problems and conversions BUT if we apply this ratio to our time:

24 hours our time is actually 38 hours upside down time.

A week in the upside down is actually 11.20 days, compared to our week of 7 days.

One hour in upside down time is 1.615384619444 hours in our time.

So, Will was actually in the upside in the upside down for around 11 days.

Which further raises the question, how the heck did he survive 11 DAYS seemingly with no food or water, running from a supernatural monster in a dimension where the atmosphere is toxic, and everyone else who was taken died pretty much immediately after?! Idk I think the only possible solution for this is that Will has supernatural powers of some kind, or he is extremely special in some way.

All of those calculations are assuming that my 10.5 to 6.5 ratio is actually correct - I could have been off by half a second or so in estimating with the clock drawings, so the actual numbers could be slightly different, but the principle still stands.

Then I started thinking maybe the ratio isn't constant or fixed. We really don't know anything about the upside down and how it works or what it even is really, so maybe time there doesn't run at a constant speed, maybe its faster or slower in certain places, I have no idea, just something to think about. Personally, I kind of hope it is a fixed rate.

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running-with-kn1ves · 3 years

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Hey yall! This one is lonG but my requests are OPEN for shorter drabbles! this was just a hornee for women long one shot :D

Vampiress! Female X GN Reader

The abandoned looking home gave off an eerie vibe; one you wouldn't have dared to come near if it wasn't for the address. Knocking, you awaited to hear footsteps, and to be invited in.

A long silence followed your knocks, the sound echoing. Whilst waiting, you admired the gold knocking handles, decorated with carved lion heads in the middle. It would have looked tacky if not for the gold lining the rest of the door. Though, time proved to be harsh as the wooden door appeared to corrode.

Several minutes passed, no soul opening from the other side. "Well.. this looks right." You comment aloud, looking down at the scrap of paper and ink. It messily read '24th vineview lane 2398', the address which you now stood in front of. It was strange; the home was decorated with overgrown vines and greenery, obviously having been abandoned from care. Knocking once more, you gave a frustrated sigh. In your peripheral vision, a window curtain moved slightly. Glancing over at the movement seemed to catch the being off guard, as they moved as soon as you turned. You were about to turn away from the door with your things until the entrance opened with a ringing creak. A woman adorned in black and muted red answered the door. She was dressed much more richly compared to yourself; no surprise, as the house appeared to be on the wealthy side as well. Certainly no peasant could afford it. "Uh, hello?" "Hello." She responded firmly. Her eyes traveled from the top of your head, to the tip of your ragged shoes. The way her mahogany colored eyes studied you was frightening. It was like she was making note of all your sinful deeds and mishaps. Her body was slightly hidden behind the door, giving an illusion of mystery. "Are you.." you scrambled around for the note containing the desired information, "Miss Colleen?" You question her, taking note of her much taller stature. "No. Colleen has left for... personal reasons." Naming her servants so casually surprised you. "Oh.. I see. Will she be coming back any time soon?" You really didn't want to be the only person here alone with this woman. From the letter Colleen supposedly wrote you, she was the only other servant in this woman's home. "I'm afraid not. She will not be returning here any longer. Are you the new housekeeper, (Y/n), I suppose?" You sucked in air through your teeth. The way your name traveled off her lips so coldly was nerve wracking. The woman's sharp teeth gleamed at you from the setting sun. Such unusual teeth. "Yes that's correct. I wrote to Colleen, well, I tried to, to let her know that I was on my way. Were you made aware of my upcoming arrival?" The woman looked hard in thought, her eyes then darting around the front garden and unlocked gate you entered through. "Yes I was.. though I believe you said you were coming earlier.." she disappointedly pointed out. "Yes, my form of transportation was rather.. tricky." Your mind was brought back to the middle aged man who argued with you over carriage prices. The damned man wouldn't allow you to ride unless paying DOUBLE the price. That was not going to happen. "Well, all that matters is you're here now." she smiled, adjusting the dress that appeared to slip downward. It was clear this woman was not taking care of herself properly; the dark red corset that she adorned was laced incorrectly, the garments she wore were too loose, and her hair was completely disheveled. Blonde frizzy curls cascading down her back made that clearly visible. "Yes.. may I come in?" You asked politely, just wanting to get to your room and sleep. "Oh yes yes of course." She spoke as if it was the most obvious question in the world. Opening the door wider, the woman hid behind it, allowing you to enter. As soon as you and your belongings were fully in, she shut the door quickly, making an echo all across the house. She began to walk in front of you at a quick pace. No windows graced the opening foyer besides for the ones next to the door. Everything else was shrouded in darkness. Few candles were lit, allowing you to barely see the lady in front of you. "My name is Miss Anastasia and you shall address me as such." The woman stated in a harsh tone. "Of course." You reply. "The kitchen is to the left," she points in the direction of a dark colored door. It appeared to look exactly the same as the next door. You were going to need to write labels on all these entryways to find which went where. "And over here is the parlor. "

After giving a short tour of the large home, the woman turns around to face you, hands on her hips.

"I expect you to be up at early dusk, and to bed at the beginning of dawn. You will clean every room, including my own when I say necessary." Miss Anastasia's eyes pierced through you, giving a harsh glare. "Excuse me, dusk till dawn?" "Yes, those are my sleeping arrangements. I myself, will also be up at around the same hour. Is that understood?" She moved closer to you, her increased height making you cower. "Yes ma'am." You meekly respond. A silent "good." Escapes her mouth.

Only a few weeks had gone by since your arrival. Luckily it was easier than you expected to change sleeping times. The bed was comfortable too, which allowed you great rest. Though it was strange that all windows were covered, considering neither you or the lady of the house were ever up during light hours. You decided it must have been a superstition type of ordeal. Miss Anastasia kept to herself mostly, but didn't mind your presence when you cleaned in the same room as her. She most often drank what you guessed to be tea or coffee, and sat with a book in the parlor. Its calming demeanor quickly made it's way to being your favorite room. It looked to be Miss Anastasia's favorite room too, as she spent much time in there. She didn't talk much, except for the few orders she barked at you, and the groan of excitement that left her when reading a particularly good scene in a book. She had hundreds of books; the parlor and her room were filled to the brim with any kind of genre you thought of. Though, mystery appeared to be her favorite. Her lack of small talk made it easy for you to move around and clean whenever necessary. It was peaceful; much nicer in comparison to the consistently arguing couples you used to housekeep for. Though the house was looking exceptionally cleaner, Miss Anastasia's messy demeanor had not changed. Noticing her fiddle with the corset ties is what drew you to step out of place. You were in her room, collecting the days laundry and sweeping, when you noticed her corset had come undone; caused due to her poor care in tying it. "Damn thing.." she muttered under her breath. After several minutes of failed attempts to fix the falling garments, you just couldn't handle it anymore. "Goodness me my lady just let me do it!" You shouted at her. "No. I shall do it." She spoke harshly, but her fingers moving away from the corset said something different. You marched over to her tall frame, undoing all the incorrect ties she tried to lace. You propped up the falling dress underneath, allowing it to cover more of her nearly exposed chest. From behind, you pulled tightly on the strings; immediately the difference was noticeable. You finished tying the corset, walking away to admire your work. Miss Anastasia messed with the ties, touching them lightly, poking and prodding. Lightly you smacked her hand away from them. "Don't mess up my hard work." You scolded. The woman looked darkly at you. For a second, you feared being thrown out; you had never been so direct with the master of the house before. But instead, Miss Anastasia turned away, crossing her arms in front of her chest. In a thin and quiet voice, she gave out a "thank you." "Of course my lady." You replied weakly, moving back to the dirty laundry. You really needed to watch what you said; making a mental note, you decided to think hard before speaking. That was the first moment you shared with Miss Anastasia that did not include silent awkwardness, or conflict on her end. Though, it wouldn't be the last time you came in contact with her in more friendly circumstances. Miss Anastasia seemed to get used to your presence, and even asked for your help with her daily fitting, considering you were so good with tying clothes. Picking out matching garments, tying her corsets, and brushing the woman's hair became a daily habit along side your cleaning. It took well over an hour to get the lady dressed, as she would not agree on nearly anything you picked. "But green and black do not go together." You argued. "It doesn't matter, I want black and I'll wear black." Miss Anastasia retorted. "But it doesn't match! Why would you wear something that makes you look foolish?!" "You're foolish!" Her replies were often childish, guaranteeing a frustrated reaction out of you. You often argued with the woman, though it was never ill intended. You were trying to do your job, and she seemed to get a kick out of making everything difficult.

It nearly drew you to insanity; all you saw was darkness, hardly going outside considering there was little reason to. You'd shop every now and again during the day, sparing your sleeping hours. But Miss Anastasia apparently ate little, always taking meals to her room. The rest of the food was in place for you; which was enough to last for at least a month. Your conflict with the woman was distressing, but slightly comforting. It was odd; she was comfortable enough with arguing with you to the point that she wouldn't throw you out? You questioned her on the subject one night, deciding it was safe enough to ask. "Because I simply have no reason to. You do enough for your job, and I doubt I could get better company." she replied. She didn't retort angrily like you expected; it was calm and calculated, like she herself had already thought of that question. Your relationship with her was rather distant otherwise, which is why it seemed strange to you how she would insist on nearly being in the same room that you cleaned in. In the kitchen doing dishes? She was there too looking for something. In your room rummaging for an item? Miss Anastasia would knock, and ask you to come clean something. And it wasn't just that she thought you were slacking, no, she eventually actively invited conversation with you. It took several weeks before she began to talk more casually, instead of fighting or the occasional "go do this and that." It first started with short, random statements. Things of what she was doing, or reading. "Ah, this book is rather intriguing today." "I wonder if the radio will work this afternight." "Hmm, this drink tastes odd." It sounded ridiculous in all actuality. Though, you mostly never responded, unless it sounded to be a hint at something you should do or fix. Considering it was obvious you weren't replying, Miss Anastasia began to talk further. You didn't ignore her out of spite, but rather to keep distance. You didn't know of any housekeepers who regularly talked to the owner of the house, other than for formality reasons or instructions. It was never casual talk. And so, you never indulged miss Anastasia in that kind of casual behavior. You assumed possibly she was from a more progressive family, whom talked amongst their servants. But, in order to allow this lady to keep whatever status she had, you refused. It didn't seem like she had much popularity to begin with though, as she slept during the day and wouldn't leave the house unless necessary. Nevertheless, you decided it would be best to keep her at a distance. Still, Anastasia continued to try to make conversation with you. You felt sympathy for the woman, as it was obvious she was just trying to talk to you; but her quick revolt to a temper made you question your choices. She outwardly asked you questions, asking your opinion on certain things. You would reply with a quick answer, neither stalling nor allowing her the pleasure of a lengthy conversation. It was an unspoken rule to not talk to your servants unless for doting on purposes. Why she was so adamant, you didn't know; you continued to question her need to converse with you. Though you rejected her advances at something more than an acquaintanceship, it struck you as surprising when she asked one early evening for you. "(Y/n), would you please attend my quarters this early morning? I have something to discuss."

Those words made you fearful; you questioned what she might do: possibly scold you, maybe kill you, or worse-- turn you to the streets. You didn't have anywhere else to go; staying at the houses you cleaned for as a live-in servant had been your job since you could remember. You of course replied yes, not wanting to disrespect her by saying no. It made you incredibly anxious to walk the corridor leading to her room that dark morning. It was still dark outside, dawn not yet rising. A yawn escaped your lips, sleep creeping up on you. By now, you had gotten used to the shift in sleeping pattern, and wished to sleep the day away. Knocking on Miss Anastasia's door lightly, you announced yourself. "Miss Anastasia? It's me, I'm here because you requested my presence?" Silence followed, until your heard her light and airy voice pipe up. "Come in." She said, loudly enough for you to hear from the other side. The door easily opened, making a slight creak. That's another thing you noticed; this house was incredibly old. All the doors squeaked, and most of the furniture appeared about to fall in shambles. Walking through, you noticed Miss Anastasia's fireplace was lit; something you hadn't done. You did everything, even things the lady of the house was supposed to. You were confused as to why she lit it herself if she insisted on you doing nearly everything else otherwise. Looking for Anastasia, you saw her pale form resting on the bed, lying on her side. She was already dressed for sleeping, her hair falling in front of her face, and on her shoulders. A book rested next to her; she looked at you with a satisfied grin. Miss Anastasia was scantily dressed in a nightgown much shorter and more revealing than you ever remembered her wearing. All her nightgowns previously, were much longer, and androgynous. Your heart rate increased. Looking down at the floor to avoid noticing too much of her, you saw the woman inch her index finger, signaling you to come closer. "Come, sit down." She stated simply. Her voice was as harsh as usual, but without a domineering tone. You followed her command, obediently sitting next to her. It irked you that she was being friendly again; servants were never to sit on the masters bed! You mentally debated on whether just complying with her needs to stop this turmoil. Anastasia closed her book. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed her long blonde hair evenly brushed, and strands falling purposely over more revealing areas around her chest. You looked away, nervous being this close to someone who was almost half nude. This was not proper etiquette, you had never dealt with this in any other house before. "Now, (y/n), have you ever heard of the story about the wolf and the sheep?" She said in a low tone, grinning from ear to ear. Miss Anastasia sat closer to you, her long and spindly fingers messing with your shirt collar. "Uh...n-no." You couldn't help but stutter, confused and alert at her odd advances. "Well, it's an idiotic old story, where the wolf fools the sheep into allowing it to get eaten," Anastasia says, traveling her hand up to your face, traveling your jawline. "I see. It sounds-- rather I've never heard of it." You lied. You hoped perhaps this was just an odd attempt at her trying to kindle something you both had In common. "Hmm. Do you agree with me, that instead the wolf should allow the sheep to live-- possibly under different circumstances?" She inquired. It was such a vague question that it perplexed you. "I'm afraid I don't understand..." you almost yelped as the woman moved behind you, massaging your shoulders. Her firm hands only made you more tense. "I see. Well to put it simply, do you believe it to be possible to allow the sheep to live, and yet feed the wolf at the same time?" You could hardly focus on the question due to the woman's soft rubbing on your shoulders. "Well I-I believe that's rather impossible. The wolf has to eat to survive. And it can only eat the sheep." You could feel the woman smiling from behind you, a dangerous atmosphere filling

the room. "I see," she moved her face closer. "then I agree. The sheep must be consumed by the wolf." You were about to turn around and protest this strange meeting and why she asked you such a useless question, until you felt something wrapped around you. Anastasia's arms pulled around your waist, causing her to be even closer to you than necessary. You froze, unable to move away. Miss Anastasia deeply inhaled, her face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. "You smell so good.." she quietly muttered. "What..?" You turned to look at her, but were stopped abruptly. The woman's face collided with your own, her lips pushing hard against yours. Your eyes went wide, unable to register what was going on. You tried to push your back against her in an effort to get her away, but instead all that did was deepen the kiss. Anastasia moaned against your lips, grabbing you by the hips and pushing you into the bed with immeasurable strength. However she managed to move you that quickly without any effort, amazed you. She bit hard onto your lip, causing you to whimper and groan. Her body was pressed against yours, hands gripping hard onto the bedsheets. You tried to wiggle free, but her ridiculous strength proved no match. You tasted blood from where she bit. Anastasia quickly licked it, a feverish frenzy making her break away. Her own lips were covered in blood; you couldn't imagine what your own looked like at the moment. Anastasia didn't have the same gleaming smirk on anymore; instead, she looked rather empty. Her eyes glazed over; turning bloodshot and a deep red, almost blackish color. From above you, she hissed, sharp canines pointing out inhumanely. You cried out, terrified of this woman--no rather beast. Underneath her skin, purple and blue veins stuck out brightly. She hissed once more, looking like she was about to rip you to shreds. You pushed away from her harder, trying to break free. Anastasia's eyes went wide, the dark black color beginning to fade away. Covering her mouth, she looked like she was about to cry. Taking this as an opening, you pushed the woman harshly, causing her to fall back onto the bed. You got up, and immediately ran to the door. "Wait! Please!" You heard her shout, but didn't look back until reaching the door handle. Looking towards her, you saw a pitiful heap of the woman you once noticed as fiery. Her sleeve was falling off her shoulder, and she struggled to keep herself planted on the bed, face occasionally changing back to the violent and veiny monster you saw mere moments ago. She continued to cover her mouth. Tears fell down her face, giving a more hauntingly beautiful look. Anastasia's mane of hair was frizzy, the effort you put in to keep it looking nice was now destroyed. "Please... I'm so alone." She whispered, barely loud enough for you to hear above the crackling fire. It was clear her seduction plan did not go as intended. Whatever reason she tried to make you bow down and submit to her, made you terrified. You didn't respond, merely throwing open the door and running down the hallway. You made it back to your room, and locked the door tight. Wiping the blood off your lips, you shivered. You could hardly process any thoughts, only one word continued to echo in your head. Vampire. Throughout the night you were restless, unable to sleep or rest a wink. Unconsciously, you kept touching your lips, and the spot Anastasia bit. It was strange, horrifying, and alluring. Your mind kept running back to the encounter. Several times you questioned your sanity; wondering whether that interaction was real or not. But the pain of the scar on your lips kept reality present. Checking out your windows to see the sun setting, you moved to get dressed. The idea of leaving the manor crossed your mind several times; after all, most rational people did not want to stay in a house with a vampiress. But, at the moment you weren't rational. You couldn't think straight, only focusing on the next task at hand to cope. Getting dressed, you began the nightly chores. Though you didn't bother

to enter Miss Anastasia's room to help her get changed. Anastasia in turn, never left her room. It unnerved you slightly, but mostly kept you feeling safe. If she wasn't around, you wouldn't have to handle another encounter like the previous one. It kept you conflicted, and all throughout the night you cleaned with the wonder of how this even happened; vampires and werewolves were commonly thought of to be children's stories, or idiotic myths people of the past protected themselves against. You decided to stay; even if it was dangerous, you were too intrigued and curious to know about Miss Anastasia. And well, its not like your relationship thus far has been normal. Anastasia had been absent from anywhere in the house besides her room for days. Nearly a week had gone by and not once did you see her come out. Occasionally you'd hear small weeps coming from her room. Those were the times you considered knocking on the door to question her. Her true nature made you... terrified to say the least. She was a vampire; lived off of human blood, and could survive for centuries. It made you all the more curious, and utterly horrified. After several days of her absence, you began to grow frustrated; the only mess you had to clean was your own, causing great boredom and lack of work. Eventually, within a passing week, Anastasia came out of her room. This time, looking worse than usual. Her skin was nearly white; a surprising contrast to the already deathly pale look. Like before, her hair was frizzled and wild, and her garments were put on incorrectly nor did they fit. The woman looked miserable; it made you feel bad but also secure, knowing she was probably too weak to kill you. "Tea, miss?" You asked one afternoon. Mostly, you had not conversed with her, allowing the awkwardness to ruminate just as before. Anastasia shook her head yes, messing with her skirts. She looked down at the floor, seemingly full of emptiness. Putting the kettle and teacup on the table, you waited for her to reach for it. She didn't move. The vampiress was in a dazed state, wallowing in self pity and sadness. Feeling bold, you grabbed the teacup, and placed it into her hands. You knelt on the floor, causing her to snap out of the trance. Looking down at you, Anastasia appeared to be horrified, moving backwards to shove against the chair. You caught the teacup in time, allowing it to only spill a little bit. Miss Anastasia gripped her skirt, looking down at you cautiously. Her eyes widened, but she sat frozen. Slowly, you moved the teacup towards her tightly closed lips. She looked down at it, seeming to get where you were going. Cautiously, she placed her hands on top of yours around the teacup. You didn't pull away, fearing she might drop the expensive china. Her hands were cold; nearly frozen even. Anastasia drank from the cup, quickly pulling it back toward you and looking away. You stood back up, backing away from the vulnerable woman. She looked flustered, a warmth entering her face. She grabbed at the fabric around her waist, nails digging into her skin. You laughed lightly, find it ironic how she was the flustered one, considering the great deal of strength she possessed. Days continued on like this; they were much quieter, which you didn't entirely mind at first. It was nice feeling another presence near you, and you could tell that Miss Anastasia felt the same. She got back to reading once more, occasionally making her satisfactory groans. Eventually, you were able to re-enter Anastasia's room. You didn't help her get dressed anymore, but were able to clean up, and enter while she was there. It brought you some peace of mind that things were returning normally. You felt that you had created too much of a bond with Anastasia to simply walk out. Plus, you were able to spare other housekeepers from becoming her dinner. You didn't want to know where she was getting sustenance, but decided it was better than her lunging after you, or other household victims. "Are you... going to tell anybody?" Miss Anastasia asked quietly

one late night. You looked up from polishing the glassware, watching her tightly closed-in form. She was dressed in a more appropriate nightgown compared to the other night; white fabric flowing down to the floor. She held a copy of one of the latest mystery novels in her hands, knees pulled up to her chest. You stared at her, your eyes coming in contact with her own. Anastasia quickly looked away, finding interest in the floor. You thought hard about your response, trying to find a positive way to word it. She was a vampire after all; a definite outrage would strike the town, causing mass chaos. It was honestly safer for everybody if she was kept hidden anyway. Though, you couldn't deny the small part of you that did not speak out due to your own feelings for the woman. "Mistress, if I intended to do so, I would have alerted someone long ago. I assure you I don't want to cause hysteria, nor your own downfall." You chuckled, trying to focus back on polishing. Anastasia didn't look satisfied with that answer; more concerned and afraid rather. "Why do you ask?" You question, continuing to focus on the glass. Anastasia took a moment to respond, staring into the lit fire place. "Well, I expected a beast like me to be burned at the stake by now," she replied, burying her face into her knees. "After all, all I do is hurt everybody." She said, her shoulders shaking. This made you unreasonably irritated; the woman was a powerful being able to make anyone bend to her will, and instead she was wallowing in self pity. Getting up, you stomped over to her shaking body. You took the book out of her clutches, throwing it down on the ground. Pulling the woman up, you shook her shoulders, facing her with fury. "Now I'm tired of this. You have centuries ahead of you, you can't wallow in despair forever!" You shouted, looking at her with furrowed brows. Anastasia looked back with widened eyes, tears pouring out of them. Her eyes were a dark, deep brown. Nearly black, but not like the monstrous color you remembered from her heightened vampire form. They were mesmerizing to stare into. You quickly pushed your lips against hers, still holding her. At first Anastasia tensed, but her shoulders relaxed as she returned the display of affection. She appeared cautious, her hands hesitant to hold you. You ruffled her hair, the curly locks feeling soft against your fingers. Anastasia's wet tears made their way against your own face. She had long stopped crying, too caught up in the moment. You broke away from her lips, gasping for air. Brushing the hair away from her face, you kissed each of her wet eyelids. "No more crying. " you whispered, pressing your forehead against hers. "Alright..." Anastasia replied, her own voice barely above a whisper as well. She touched the scar on your lip, frowning. You pulled her hand away to interlock your fingers with hers. Quickly, you pressed your lips on her cheek, moving away to stare at her cautious yet content face. That tender moment is what brought upon your indefinite changed living style. After such a display of romance, Anastasia felt more at ease around you; you could tell from the lift of weight in the room whenever you were near each other. She never tried to woo you over with fear anymore since the incident, and was still rather cautious when near you. Most of the time, she felt more at ease just being in the same room, though that didn't stop your closeness. Stolen kisses were given whenever you had the chance. A passing glance in the hallway nearly brought you to your knees, as you pressed your lips against her cold palm. Anastasia was still scared of being too close to you, but even she couldn't pull too far away. The laundry basket was often forgotten, as you pressed Anastasia against the wall, arms laced around her. She whimpered against your touch, placing her hands on your cheeks. The woman was nearly touch starved, being alone for so long. You pulled away quickly, stepping backwards toward the laundry. Her bright red lipstick was smeared, and from her embarrassed

stare, you could tell it was on you as well. Though, you didn't mind. Even with your own display of affection, Miss Anastasia much enjoyed rather peaceful means of your company. You were still able to banter back and forth with her, but she didn't hold the same angry or discontent façade anymore. Mostly, the woman would invite you to lay with her in the early hours of the morning, snuggling against her chest as she read a book. "Read to me." You'd demand, and every time Anastasia would comply, her hands nestled into your hair. It was times like these where everything felt simple, not disastrous or dangerous like Anastasia's true form. Despite your growing affections for her, you were still slightly scared of the being she truly was.

A vampiress who could no doubt slay you within seconds, was truly horrifying. But Anastasia never acted as such; she was still as blunt and fiery as ever, but never harmful or dangerous. This made you feel secure, but you wondered how long it would take her to devour you. That first incident was proof enough that she had hardly a handle on being a vampire, despite however many years she had lived as one. Though your fear was continuously brushed off, your affections for her taking over instead.

Which is why it unnerved you so, when she entered your room looking so sullen. Putting the book that Anastasia recommended to you down, you watched her sit on the end of your bed. Moving closer, you grabbed her hand. kissing her shoulder, your concern grew. she stared down as she always did when something was wrong, eyebrows furrowed in an afraid way. "What's wrong?" You questioned. She would not look at you, turning her face away. Pulling her face towards you, you kissed Anastasia lightly, now concerned as she wasn't speaking. After a long silence, she finally spoke, her voice trembling. "We can't, we can't be together.." she announced. "Why not?" You questioned harshly. This quiet behavior of hers was not common; lately she'd been very vocal and open, detailing her favorite books to you, and singing along to the radio. "Well.. not unless something changes. I'm going to hurt you." She said it like it was a fact; here and now she'd hurt you. "No you're not-" you tried to protest, but Anastasia was faster.

"Yes I will! If this keeps happening, I will! I know myself, I won't hesitate to lunge straight for you, if you bleed." She looked down, trying to pull your hand away. "Then change me!" You blurted out, unable to hold back. You didn't realize what you were saying until you said it. "Change me to be like you. Then neither of us will get hurt." "What? I can't do that." Anastasia shook her head, but with the indecision in her eyes, you knew that was an entire possibility. "Anastasia," you said warningly, "I want this. I'll do it, for you." It was possible you weren't thinking clearly of all the consequences of being a vampire, but you didn't care. You didn't have family or friends to return to, no life that was waiting. So why not, you thought. Anastasia sat quietly. Taking time to process your request. "Do you.. really want this?" She finally replied, looking up at you. Her eyes concerned and hard, no longer pitiful. "Yes." You answered matter-of-factly. Anastasia pushed you onto the bed, laying on top of you. She looked into your eyes, searching for a hint of hesitation, and found nothing. Lowering herself down to your neck, she pulled your collar away. You could feel her breath against you, hearing the erratic breathing. "You're sure?" she whispered, her voice like stone. This was a choice you could never go back from. "Positive." You replied. Anastasia quickly moved herself to lick your neck, tongue gliding over each sensitive nerve. You shuddered, feeling exposed. Your instincts told you to run, but you quieted them by holding Anastasia's hands in your own. She pressed firmly down onto your palms, signaling you to be prepared. Though, nothing could prepare you for the pain. Anastasias fangs dug into you; it felt like your skin was being ripped off. You screamed out in pain, pushing your hands into hers, fingers digging into her pale skin. You whimpered and groaned, the pain searing into you. Your fingernails dug into Anastasia's knuckles, though she didn't take notice. You could hear the wet slurps and licks of her mouth against your torn skin. At last, what felt like hours was only mere minutes, Anastasia removed her fangs. You didn't have time to debate which was worse: her biting into you or releasing you. You screamed out in pain again, biting the inside of your cheek. Licking up the remainder of blood, Anastasia looked down at you: a bloody limp mess. From the corner of your eye you could see red littering the white sheets. You groaned, panting the pain away. Without wasting time, Anastasia bit into her own arm, allowing a trail of blood to travel down her arm. She presented the wound to you. You felt like passing out, the pain becoming near unbearable. "Drink, drink my love." She commanded, her voice firm and caring. You did as she said, taking the dark blood into you. You licked the falling red substance, traveling up toward her open wound. Anastasia stared down at you lovingly, a small smile gracing her lips.

EXTRA The radio hummed, a woman singing some sort of love serenade playing gracefully. The technology's crackling matched that of the burning fire. The smell of metal and gruesome death filled the parlor, blood splattering across several books' white pages and recently cleaned furniture. You hummed to the music, swaying back and forth. Anastasia followed your lead, your head resting on her chest. You gripped her tightly, a loving groan making it's way out of your throat. "My love..." she started, sounding strained. "You're much stronger than me right now-" she commented, her hands gripping your tight embrace. "I know." You said carefreely. Letting go, you looked up into the woman's eyes, as she peered down into yours. You licked the blood that rested itself against the side of her face. Since your own changing, any blood brought into the house was neither yours or Anastasia's. And you relished in it; the sweet taste of the red substance was so intoxicating. You kissed her lightly, continuing to sway with the woman. She brought your bloodied arm up to her lips, licking the substance. You stared up at her, eyes shining. "Good girl." You said, licking your lips. She leaned down to kiss you, the taste of blood mixing within yours and Anastasia's mouth.

#wlw post #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral fanfic #yandere core #yandere x reader #female yandere #vampire girl #vampire #vampire x reader #vampire x human #monster fucker #exophilia #creature #fantasy #writing in solitude #writing things #yancore #possessive

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thran-duils · 3 years

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Nowhere to Run (P.2)

Title: Nowhere to Run (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Stony. Reader was caught unknowingly stealing from the capitol harvest and is drug to the capitol for punishment. She is offered an option to go to trial or accept work in the main government building. Upon her tour, she ends up in trouble and catches eyes of two of the Master Council that decide she needs to be broken in by their hands. Words: 6,130 Warnings (for this chapter): Non-con, servitude, forced orgasms, verbal and emotional abuse, double penetration, unprotected sex Author’s Notes: Definitely biting Mother Gothel vibes when Tony says, “No? Oh...” Also, sorry that this got so long but also not sorry.

Part One || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The courtyard between the villas was swathed in flowers and shrubbery. Despite how scared you were to be here, you came to a stop in the pathway, looking around in awe. This kind of garden was one you dreamed of to have and lay in, soaking up the sun. Your hands came up to your sheer hood of your robe to push it back — before leaving the Capitol you had been given a robe, a symbol of your assignment. It was white and embroidered with flowers and upon seeing the garden, you spotted the flower it was based off of. You had not seen it in any other part of the Capitol yet and surmised it was specifically here and therefore, the reason for the embroidery choice. It was deep blue, weaving in vines around the pillar. You reached out, rubbing one of the petals between your fingers gently.

Tsu snapped his fingers in your face, getting your attention once more.

“We don’t have a lot of time. The Masters are in a council meeting, and they’ll be expecting you to be settled in and starting your tasks by the time they return. Now I was told you will be assigned primarily to Master Rogers and Master Stark.” He leaned in close and hissed, “And please heed my warning: obey. They are not known to be forgiving.”

He looked serious and you nodded, “Noted.”

“I hope so. They won’t be lenient about back talk. Do not repeat what you did at the capitol building.”

Tsu turned on his heel and continued on, taking a path towards one of the villas. “This is Mr. Roger’s.”

It infuriated you that they all had such large houses just to themselves. Many around the country shared the houses with multiple families and they were nowhere near the size of these.

And being inside, you were even more upset seeing how lacking homeliness there was to the place. It was all marble flooring, minimalist, and cold, really. He gave you direction about the rooms, nodding in acknowledgment when you passed a couple of other servants. They nodded quickly back before moving on to continue their tasks. Your eyes lingered on the large, canopied bed in the master bedroom. Why someone needed that big of a bed just for themselves was beyond you. But the Capitol was greedy, and it was so because of the council members living above their actual needs.

Your mouth watered as you were led to the kitchen; dinner was being prepared and it smelled delicious. The cook himself was skinny and you wondered if he was ever rewarded with the fruits of his labor. You were to attend to the morning tasks specifically and the cook showed you where the coffee was — a delicacy that apparently Master Rogers enjoyed every morning — and where he would leave the prepped food for you to cook for breakfast. On top of preparing his outfit for the day to lay out and getting his toiletries ready for after his shower.

“Am I to do the same at Master Stark’s as well?” you asked Tsu, who nodded. “How can I be expected to be in two places at once? Who is first?”

“They will work that out amongst themselves and inform you. Come now, over to Master Stark’s. Apparently one of his maids has fallen… under the weather.” You furrowed your brow at the hesitance and Tsu leaned in, “We shan’t expect to see her for probably nine months.”

You felt bile swirling.

“It happens from time to time with the Master’s maids. Why, Master Wilson had one just last month.”

“Charming. I’m so glad that’s a common occurrence that no one bats an eye,” you muttered.

Tsu wagged his finger at you, “That’s that attitude I was talking about. I’m not going to be here to remind you to keep it reined in. You’re gonna have to do it yourself.”

Master Stark’s house was across the courtyard. His house was just as unwelcoming and darker in interior design. There were many sky lights, a huge one over his sunken living room. You stepped down, looking at the plush couch and the large flat screen mounted on the wall. Again, so much space for just one person. His bedroom was facing the forest with a bed as large as Master Roger’s and you walked along the windows, staring out as Tsu led you to show you the master bath. You stared at the shower, taking in the floating shower head above and the wooden bench along the wall. That must be relaxing.

“Servants quarters are downstairs. There’s some in every villa. I’m not sure which one you’ll be in but again, they’ll let you know.”

He was leading you back through the hall, pointing out an office and a library. You stuck your head inside the library curiously, your mouth falling open at the walls of books. Back home, you had the pleasure of a collection, but it was not even a quarter of this.

“Come on, Y/N. We don’t have a lot of—” he stopped hearing noise downstairs, the front door slamming it sounded like.

“Matilda!” A man bellowed.

“Shit. He’s back already,” Tsu hissed before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the library.

Coming along the exposed hallway, you looked past the glass railing over the living room. A woman was in front of who you assumed was Master Stark. He was sneering at her already, “You forget yourself, Matilda. I told you to have my bath ran by the time I returned. Perhaps missing dinner will be in order for you.”

“I’m sorry, master,” she said looking nervous, her head bowed.

Master Stark was dark haired and handsome. He was dressed smartly in a fitted suit, you still able to make out the tautness of his body. The movement at the stairs caught his attention. He took his sunglasses off seeing the pair of you coming down the stairs.

“Master Stark,” Tsu greeted as you approached. He gave a curt bow, and you followed his lead.

Chestnut eyes followed your movement, and you did your best to avert your own gaze. You instead looked at the other woman, seeing the red in her cheeks at being berated.

“I was just showing Y/N around yours and Master Roger’s homes to get her acquainted.”

“Right. The new wench,” Master Stark remarked. You bristled at the term ‘wench’ and shot him an annoyed look. His lips twitched seeing your expression before you averted your gaze again, knowing you had let your temper get the better of you. “Leave us. I can take it from here.”

Tsu nodded and gave another bow. “Good day, Master Stark.”

He left without looking back and you suddenly felt vulnerable without him.

“Girl, come to me,” Master Stark said, snapping his fingers at you like you were a pet. To Matilda he ordered, “What are you still doing standing there, you idiot? Get upstairs and start my bath! Do you wish to miss breakfast as well?”

“No, sir,” she said shaking her head and turning to go up the stairs you had just come down hastily.

You closed the space between the two of you, standing a foot from him, your arms clasped in front of you.

“You were told you are to prepare my clothes and breakfast later in the morning than Steve’s?”

Steve must be Master Rogers.

“Yes, sort of,” you responded in a timid voice.

“Speak up. Muttering annoys the absolute fuck out of me.”

“Yes,” you rose your voice. “But I was unsure which house to be at first. Thank you for answering that for me. What time do you want me here, Master Stark?”

He sighed, “Steve is always up at the asscrack of dawn. Usually about five.” You held back at a grimace knowing you would need to be awake well before then yourself then. “I don’t usually get up until eight. That gives you a couple hours at least at his place beforehand. And you know, before this goes any further, let me see you. Strip.”

“Excuse me?” you asked mortified.

“Did I stutter?” Tony asked dryly. “Untie your dress.”

“No.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “‘No’?” He looked sinister, “Oh…”

“No, I mean you didn’t stutter,” you said quickly, trying to correct your misstep.

Amusement was still evident; he did not believe your lie. “Well, get to it then. As I’m sure you heard, I have a bath running and I would like it to be hot.”

Heat creeped up your neck as you reached up and untied the fabric at the back of your neck. He circled slowly, his fingers brushing at your side. You flinched away instinctively, and his hand latched tightly.

“Did I give you permission to move?”

“No,” you whispered.

“What did I tell you about speaking up? Are you daft?”

“No,” you said louder.

“Good girl,” he said, his hand loosening.

It was one thing to have him examining you like cattle at auction but touching you on top of that was humiliating on a whole new level.

His lecherous examination continued, his fingers following his circle he walked on your skin. He traced down from the nape of your neck to the curve of your ass. His fingers fluttered down and gave a squeeze. You sucked in your cheeks, tensing, but you did not say anything like you had at the Capitol. He held, as if he was waiting. When you stayed still, he made a hum of approval before he moved on.

Fingers ghosted along your shoulder. He was so close; you could feel his breath on you. He was frightening, his presence ominous. You fought to keep your eyes forward and not meet him. You had a feeling that would result in punishment.

He stepped away from you, his hand thankfully gone.

“You’ll do,” he said dismissively.

‘You’ll do’? That was more hurtful than outright telling you that you were not up to his standards. Or was he playing mind games?

“Dress yourself. Before you head over to Steve’s, go and straighten up my library. I had young Master Parker over earlier and he has a terrible fucking habit of not putting things back. I like authors by their last name. Don’t fuck it up, do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

<><><>

You awoke at 4:30am and dragged yourself from your small cot. You took on the friendly advice given to you by the other servants to use the small glow stick like device to light your way without turning on the actual lights. There was no need to rouse Master Rogers from sleep before he awoke himself; that would piss him off.

Picking up your list that had been left by one of the head servants, you saw you were to pick out his outfit, sort his toiletries, mop the kitchen floor – where were those supplies? – prepare his coffee and breakfast, and lay out his newspaper for him. And wait for further instruction if there were to be any. The only order for his outfit was ‘casual’.

Master Rogers – Steve – was sleeping soundly still. You stared at his form for a few seconds, his muscular arms and chest that were exposed from his silk sheets. He was a large man, handsome too just like Master Stark, with a strong jaw. His blonde hair was splayed across his forehead from his tussling in the night. You were given little to no instruction for his clothing, and you went into his closet blind, holding up the small light you were holding. His room was shrouded in darkness from the curtains being pulled and you were grateful you had brought the light.

In his closet, you fetched a relaxed top and a soft cardigan with slacks. That was as casual as it was getting in his selection of clothes. You kept the hangers and brought them soundlessly out to his bathroom door, hanging them up. You went inside and began gathering the toiletries listed and separated them between the counter near the sink and his shower.

Down in the kitchen, you made first to find the mop and thankfully, it was in the pantry. It was fairly easy to mop the floor, that you were used to. But after that, you stared at the oven before clicking a button you thought was the correct one. It came to life. This was far more technological than you had dealt with, but you had to figure it out. You wished you had had more time with Tsu or the cook yesterday. It took you a moment to figure out where the skillets were, but you were able to get his bacon started and his eggs. His coffee was more difficult than you thought originally. He wanted a latte. You followed the instructions to make an espresso and then whisked the milk, pouring the espresso over it.

As if on cue, you placed the latte next to his plate on the counter as instructed next to his newspaper, and he walked in.

His eyes ran over you, and you gave him a curt bow as Tsu had done for Master Stark. “Good morning, Master Rogers.”

“We haven’t met,” he responded, coming over to his plate and grabbing his newspaper.

“Y/N, sir.”

“Hmm, right. I remember you.”

He remembered you from what?

“I’m to help you in the morning. I hope my outfit choice was appropriate.”

Steve looked down and shrugged half assedly. “It’s comfortable enough.”

Holding back your attitude, you asked, “Is there something I can do different in the future that will please you more?” His eyes flashed lasciviously, and you quickly added, “In regard to your outfit, I mean, sir. Just so I know what to choose.”

“I’m not sure I can teach a mountain girl anything about fashion on a whim. So, just watch the rest of the masters and the council members outfits. I don’t have the energy to try to explain it to you. I’m sure this long, halter gown is the fanciest thing you’ve worn and it’s merely a villa servant’s dress.”

How you wanted to knock him a good one for being so crass. It must have been evident in your expression because his eyes crinkled as he picked up a bite of his eggs, taking a bite.

“Did I strike a nerve?”

“No,” you blatantly lied. “How are your eggs, sir?”

“Fine, surprisingly. You made them quite fluffy.”

Steve’s hand moved in what seemed like a very deliberate movement, knocking his cup, and it fell to the floor. Ceramic shattered and his latte flooded around it.

You bit your cheeks to keep from screaming, staring at it. You had just cleaned the floor.

“Oops,” he said flatly, not sounding sorry at all. “Why did you place it so close to the edge?”

He was saying it like it was your fault. This pompous asshole. But you inhaled deeply.

“I’ll make you another one,” you told him calmly although you were screaming internally. He was not going to get a rise out of you that quickly and that easily. Tsu had warned you to obey and you were not going to risk being beaten or worse – time added to your sentence – over spilled coffee.

“Another one…?” He asked expectantly.

“Master Rogers,” you said stiffly.

You bent over and began picking up the shattered pieces first. Scooping them up you brought them over to the trash can and tossed them in.

Turning back around, you caught sight of him staring, his eyes focused on your hips before he met your gaze. He looked aroused and you knew he had been staring at your ass as you were bent over. Nonchalantly, he cleared his throat and looked back down at his newspaper.

You felt relief surprisingly when he said, “I’m sure Tony will be coming back from the land of the dead soon enough. You should hurry over there.”

<><><>

You cracked Tony’s door open and quietly slipped in. You saw two figures in the bed as you crept by towards his closet. You used the natural light coming in from the windows to guide yourself through the closet. He had said dark grey for his color scheme, so you did your best, matching the jacket, vest, and slacks but a white dress shirt. The socks and tie you chose were burgundy, a contrast. He had not asked for that, but you would see how that worked.

Quietly, you came back out of the closet and stilled when you saw someone slipping out of the bed. You recognized her in the light… Matilda. She stopped only for a moment, locking eyes with you before snatching her dress off the ground and bringing it up and tying it around her neck. She sneaked out of the room, more than likely going to start her chores. So, he forced someone he verbally abused to his bed.

Gently you walked over to the bathroom and hung up the clothes on the outside of the door. You moved inside and got together the materials the same you had for Steve and put the appropriate ones in the shower and by the sink.

When you emerged, Tony was stirring, and you moved quicker to get out of the room before he was fully awake.

But to no luck.

“Morning, little vixen.”

You stopped in your movement and turned back to face him, clasping your hands. “Good morning, Master Stark. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

His lips up ticked into a closed smile, “I’m sure it is time for me to be awake if I find my bed cold. Night is over and consequently the fun.” He threw the covers back and got back out of bed unabashedly of his naked form. Your eyes widened at his brazen behavior, all of him on display. You turned your head, avoiding looking at him and he chuckled. “You’ll get used to seeing this.”

Tony moved towards the door and eyed the suit choice. He shot you a look and said, “Look at that slight boldness of color. It’s subtle against the neutral but it’s nice. Good choice.”

He winked at you before going into the bathroom. You took that as permission to leave to start his breakfast.

<><><>

The whole first day you had put up with both of their antics. They were trying your patience and it was getting to you. You had never crossed two more pretentious men and they were so insulting to their staff. Steve had called you “pigheaded” for placing his newspaper on the right instead of the left of his plate this morning and you wanted to just tear it up in front of him.

You were currently in Tony’s office waiting instruction. There had been a task after breakfast to clean his office and before you started, you wanted more direction, so you did not make a mistake.

He walked in finding you still standing still, and he asked, “You know, to clean, you need to actually be moving?”

“My instructions said to dust but I was not sure what I should touch and not touch, Master Stark. I was waiting for you to give me direction so—”

He cut you off, “When it says dust, just dust. But, you know, I’m actually glad you waited so you’ll be in here longer.” He stalked over to his desk and opened one of his drawers, pulling out a box. He unwrapped it and you watched him pull out a pair of lace, barely there panties. Your heart clenched – he surely did not mean to give those to you? He placed a small device into the crotch of them and held them out to you.

“What’s that?” you asked slowly, not moving.

“I like some entertainment while I work,” Tony commented. “Put them on. They’ll be a snug fit, right up against what I’m sure is a beautiful pussy.” You stared back at him, and Tony returned a challenging look. “Are we going to have a problem?”

At loss for words, you stammered, “I… for what?”

“A problem ‘for what’? Yeah, that’s exactly what my question is. There should not be a problem when I tell you to do something directly. Come over here and fetch them and put them on,” Tony ordered you impatiently. “Before I lose my temper.”

As if you were moving against your own will, your legs moved forward, and you came to the desk. You reached up underneath your gown, his eyes raking over your exposed bare legs. Yanking down your underwear, you tossed them to the side by the desk and took the underwear from him. Hunger was swimming in his eyes, and you swallowed sharply. He was right; they were snug, the protruding part right up against your bud.

He clicked a button on the small remote and the underwear turned on. You grimaced your teeth as you felt the vibration, if only for a few moments.

Tony looked elated at the expression on your face. “Sweetheart, if you can dust everything here without coming, I’ll be so proud.” He leaned forward and winked, “But I’m going to make you work for it. Our work meetings are so boring, and I enjoy watching you women fighting against an orgasm.”

You hated this. You were to clean his office and he was going to be brushing your cunt with his toy.

He picked up the glass by his desk and opened the mini fridge, pulling out the ice cubes. He clunked some into his glass and poured some water over the top of it. Settling back into his chair he eyed you, waiting.

Swallowing your pride, you turned from him and began at the far end at the stacked bookcases. You shuddered as the panties worked at your clit, longer this time. He did not hit the button at regular intervals, so it caught you off guard every time. You would be holding a porcelain figurine and clench it, hoping to God you would not drop it. You were bound to break something the closer you got to coming undone. He was continuing on with his virtual meeting as if nothing untoward was happening to you. You bent to grab a book that had fallen off the shelf and he hit it again. You snapped back up and exhaled sharply, clenched as it vibrated relentlessly against you. You gave the book a quick brush over before placing it back on the shelf. You took a step and he hit it again.

Having had enough, you turned around and hissed, “You’re distracting me. How am I to work, Master Stark?”

He muted his microphone on his computer and blocked his camera before turning in his chair towards you. You saw the bulge in his pants and that only served to make you more upset with the situation. How much he was getting off on this was unbearable.

“That’s kind of the point of this. But, really, you’re distracting me, little vixen. With your hips and those soft sighs leaving your mouth every time I press the toy. It’s very beguiling,” Tony argued, relaxing back in his chair. You heard the ice clinking in his drink as he brought it to his lips. “And I’ll distract you however much I want to. Don’t you forget that. Get back to work. Now.”

He clicked his microphone and camera back on, resuming his meeting. His fingers were tapping the remote that was lying on the desk, teasingly. Pissed, you turned back.

It buzzed again only moments later, and you clenched, squeezing your thighs together as you brushed the bookcase.

“Ah ah. Naughty girl. Let me in,” Tony intoned, and you loosened. He took the opportunity and hit you again with stimulation.

You let out a frustrated noise and threw the duster onto the ground.

“Fuck this!” you exclaimed.

Tony hit the hide and mute on his computer quickly at your outburst, caught off guard. You got a small satisfaction out of that in the heat of the moment that you had thrown him off his game.

He turned towards you again, looking furious. That did nothing to throw water on your temper. You hastily tore the underwear off and threw them in his general direction. Tony’s eyes followed the descent of them to land at his black oxfords. “Send me back! I’ll take on an extra month — six even if I can just be back in the capitol building! This is torture!”

Tony drug his gaze from the panties back to you. His elbow was still resting on the arm of the chair.

Chest heaving, you watched him and slowly felt the dread creeping in. His eyes were hard, and you remembered who exactly you were dealing with. He had all the power in this relationship, and you had just lost your temper with him, outright disobeying something you had been ordered to do. And you may have embarrassed him in front of other Capitol council members in your outburst.

Tony stood from the chair and stalked over to you, peering down his nose at you. His voice was dangerously low when he said, “Go up to my bedroom and wait there for Steve and I. On the bed. Naked.”

Naked? You gulped.

Even you knew better than to argue with him with that scathing glare. You slunk away and you felt his glare burning into the back of your head as you closed the office door behind you.

<><><>

Curled in on yourself, you waited. It seemed to drag on forever, the waiting. You just wanted them to come up and belt you and get it over with.

When the door opened, you dared to raise your gaze, finding the both of them coming in. Their jackets, vests, and ties were gone. The top buttons of their dress shirts were undone, apparently have relaxed before this. Tony must have called Steve to his office and relayed to him what had transpired between the two of you.

You were doing your best to try to keep your breasts hidden, your legs crossed to hide yourself as well.

Tony came to a stop in front of you and he held out two fingers, pulling your chin up to force you to look at him directly. His stare was cold.

“You really pissed me off earlier,” he informed you point blank.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’m sure you are now. At the time, I know you meant every little ounce of venom you spat at me. And that I won’t abide. And neither will Steve. What goes on in one villa, goes on in the other. You will be well behaved in both.” When you did not say anything, his hand came to clench your jaw and you winced as he forced your mouth open as he mocked in a higher pitched voice, “’Yes, master. I understand’.”

“Yes, master, I understand,” you repeated, wincing against his tight grip.

“And we’ll make sure that sticks. We are in charge here,” Tony told you, letting go of your face and going to work on the rest of his buttons.

You had hardly noticed Steve had undressed himself to his briefs. You had been so focused on Tony’s imperious presence before you.

Steve was holding the panties you had thrown at Tony earlier. You felt sick as he told you, “Let me put these on you and don’t make it difficult.”

No. They were not going to beat you like you feared. They were going to do worse. Matilda came to mind being in Tony’s bed when you knew that was the last place she would have wanted to be and your eyes shot to the door before landing back on Steve who was coming close now.

Freeing himself from his boxers, Steve’s hand ran up and down his length. You cowered back, crawling back on the bed, tucking your feet to come onto your knees. You did not want to be in here. He smirked seeing your fight or flight kick in.

“Sweetpea, you know that’s not an option. Come back.” You tensed, shooting another quick look at the door. Steve’s expression melted from amusement to annoyance. “Now.”

You unfolded slowly, coming back to the end of the bed, your heart hammering. You had had sex before, but it had only been with the boy next door, the one you had thought once that you would marry before you had been brought here. Not like this. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you sat still as you could to let him slide them up and you allowed him to pull them all the way up. You spotted Tony still had the remote, a wicked grin on his face.

Steve was jutting out towards you, and you stared down at his length.

“Your hand,” Steve told you. “Wet it with your mouth.” You shakily did as he asked and he ordered, “More spit.” You did that as well. “Touch me.”

You felt humiliated but you did what he asked. He was thick and your hand slid up and down his length, wetting him with your spit. He moaned softly, his hips moving ever so slightly as you continued to stroke him off. The underwear vibrated and unlike before, they were not turning off. Tony was not giving you any reprieve. You tried to adjust so the movement was not directly on your bud but no matter what you tried, it was right there, and some angles made it worse, causing you to shiver at the direct contact. You caught Tony’s eyes and he was watching with heightened arousal, his erection evident in his slacks.

Steve was leaking precum in no time and you were short of breath with the stimulation on your cunt. You had shot a look at Tony finding him naked now, working himself up at the scene before him. You were getting the panties so wet and you wondered if that was going to affect the toy.

It reached a moment when Steve had had enough of just your hand. He stopped your movement and tossed your hand aside. You leaned back as he towered, his hands snatching at the sides of the panties and yanking them down your legs roughly, tossing them aside. You barely had time to react before he was picking you up in a fluid motion. You yelped at the airborne movement as he dragged you onto the bed with him. Steve laid down and pulled you in top of him, your hands planted by his head. His cock slid in with ease to your wet pussy, his lips sucking at your breasts.

The bed dipped with Tony’s added weight, and you heard him adjusting in between Steve’s legs, his hard cock brushing up against your tight ring. You realized fully what he was aiming for when his thumb met your ass and it was cold, covered in lube. You felt him squeeze some into you.

Having their way with you in your pussy was one thing but this was something else entirely, especially since Steve was already inside you. You had never had anal sex, let alone two men in you at once. This was their punishment.

Desperately, you begged, “Please don’t!”

Steve’s laugh was cruel. “‘Please don’t?’ Me? I’m not doing anything, darling. I’m just sitting here. Fully...seated... inside your tight cunt just enjoying it.”

You tried to look over your shoulder at Tony, “Master—"

But Steve grabbed your face and forced you to look back at him. “Relax…. Relax….” he breathed encouragingly. “You don’t want it to really hurt do you?”

There was no time for you to answer him as Tony started pressing in. It burned and you cried out. Steve was whispering in your ear to encourage you to relax, telling you to be a good girl. You choked on a cry, tears stinging as Tony continued to sink into your ass. You were so full.

“Aw, she’s crying, Tony.”

Tony sloppily kissed your temple, his hand tight on your throat. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. You’re doing so well! Taking it like the little whore we knew you are. Take your punishment… you’ll be loving it in no time.”

He pulled out slowly before pushing back in, keeping a slow steady pace. You breathed, trying to focus on the way it was subsiding to pleasure. You sniffled, hanging your head as he continued using you, Steve still waiting inside. You were sure their cocks were brushing each other in that thin membrane.

“Well-behaved now too. Just gotta fill her with cock to train her. Make her needy,” Steve rasped. “Tell us how much you like it, you little slut.”

It was an order. And you were just a rag doll between them right now; what other choice did you have but to comply?

You could not lie to yourself either, you were being stimulated to a whole new level.

“I love it,” you breathed shakily, a sharp whine escaping as you felt them both rocking in and out. They had a rhythm going, like they had done this before.

Steve continued with his dirty talk, “You want it? You wanna be fucked?”

“Yes, I want it. I wanna be fucked.”

Tony groaned at your declaration, slapping across your ass as you rocked between them. The reverberation sent a tremor through you, further stimulating you.

Steve bit roughly at your nipple and you yelped. His breath was hot as he growled, “You wanna be used like a perfect doll. Right? You wanna behave? Because if you don’t we won’t finish.”

Every nerve was on fire, and you were losing yourself to the feeling. No, they had to finish.

You nodded fervently, “I wanna behave. I wanna behave.”

“You know how lucky you are to be filled? What women would beg to be in your spot? You should be thanking us!”

“Thank you for filling me up,” you cried as Steve buried himself roughly. The shame of your pleading and groveling was overshadowed by every brush of their cocks inside you, pushing you towards the edge to come tumbling down.

They were working you like the doll Steve promised you were going to be. Your breath was short, and you were beginning to shake on your arms.

You heard Tony groan, “There you go, there you go. Fuck!”

“I got her Tony,” Steve grunted, holding you tight as broken cries left you. “I’ll hold you, sweetheart.” You trusted him in your delirious state and collapsed against him as your body gave way. You shouted, stuffing a fist into your mouth. Steve yanked your hand away and you cried out. “Let us hear what we’ve done to you, you naughty girl.”

Steve held you in place as Tony sped up, thrusting quick. You continued moaning with the heat tearing through you.

“You’re gonna take every fucking drop,” Tony husked. “Perfect little cumslut!”

He groaned animalistically, his cum emptying into your ass. You sighed relieved and buried your face into Steve’s collarbone. Tony slid out and you whined pathetically feeling him spill out onto your thighs.

“Almost done, doll. You’re taking your punishment perfectly, shaping up so well,” Steve kissed along the side of your face. “Tony, you did nothing to help me stalling myself with those hard thrusts of yours. Felt every rib of your dick, you bastard.” You heard Tony chuckling as Steve resumed his own thrusts. You whined, so sensitive but he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, and he was finishing soon, spilling his seed into your aching pussy. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before he picked you up and rolled over to drop you onto the bed.

You laid there exhausted, bare in the center of the bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath.

Steve was pleased. “I love that gaped, cum filled look. Especially on her.”

They sounded a million miles away, you still drowning in what had just happened.

Tony came into your sights, and you turned your head towards him, exhaustion in your bones. “Gather yourself and then come join me in the shower. I’ll give you that before you come back out here and strip my bed to clean the sheets. Can’t keep you off your duties for too long, can we? I won’t be giving you special treatment no matter how well that perfect ass of yours just milked me.”

He turned before stopping and then he added, “By the way, I will not be sending you back to the Capitol building. If we have our say, you won’t be going home any time soon.”

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx

#steve rogers x reader #tony stark x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel #my shit

101 notes · View notes

yuzhousky · 3 years

Note

Hi bummie🤗

The post about vsm225 has really rubbed me the wrong way and I have a few things to say.

First, I have a message for the person who submitted the ask to you: if you are going to bash somebody like that behind the safety and comfort of your keyboard, the least you can do is NOT post it anonymously. Show us your name and your face. How do you expect to be taken seriously for tarnishing someone's name anonymously?

I myself have been her long time follower on instagram. Does that make me and another 1300 people stupid? Shallow? Retarded?

However, the fact that i have been her follower will not make me biased to what i have to say.

Now, on a serious note, I like what she posts on her instagram, also i like what meimei (the girl who is looking after her account at the moment and posting stuff for vsm while she is struggling with covid) has been posting for the past month as well. Well, im lying. I dont like it, i LOVE IT. I love the vibe of posts, i love how spicy and sassy they are, and that is one of the instagram profiles i have the most interaction with. Because we are all there to have a good time, NOT to state facts. Vine is a very respectful person, she never throws hate or shade towards anyone, she never forces anyone to believe in anything she posts, and she never pushes her content in the as-a-matter-of-fact manner. Yes, there are sometimes hardcore bad translations from weibo, but i never take that stuff too deep, im able to get the point of what was behind it. Also, if she posts anything misleading for whatever reason, the moment she realises that she will own up to it and apologise.

Everything else is not meant to be taken seriously, but as fun and good time. Only things regarding zz and jy work and what THEY allow US to see regarding their private life can be called FACTS, the rest is all product of our delulu, speculations, wishful thinking etc, and we choose what to do with it. Im a 39 year-old man, with a master degree and more than 2 brain cells in my head and a full on life going on, yet in my comments on instagram i will refer to zz as "queen", "wifey", "madam huang" all in the name of funny banters and light hearted content and not because i find it to be the FACT. The fact is that i have enormous respect for that boy, not that i find his sole existence to be the wifey queen of jy. The FACT is that we can all learn from him how to behave mature, be strong, stick to your guns and believe in what you do, do stuff you find to be good for you, not bowing down to anyone and losing your integrity will result in success, not whether he wore the same tshirt as jy. The fact is that zz has always remaind humble, well behaved and he never allowed the success to take the best of him, not whether or not him and jy spent 2 hot nights in sanya in february. I could go on forever with this.

Vine, and everyone else on the internet are NOT here to please the crowd but because they post the things that make THEM happy and make THEM feel good. Those are THEIR accounts. The rest is up to us - who do we find at the same wave length, whose vibe matches ours, whose posts we like, and so on. Therefore we choose who to follow, and we all should be respectful to any other work anyone else posts online. Because, behind each and every profile is someone who takes time of their busy lives and puts a lot of work to provide the content for us. I personally cant stand the profiles dedicated to johnny and reba ship, but i dont go around barking online that they suck. I simpy DONT GO THERE. I stay in my own lane, i follow the content i like and let others live. Im not going around saying, or as the person in the post casually said "POINTING OUT"- hey everyone, dont follow that person because it doesnt align with MY OWN taste level. What qualifies anyone to say that? What right does anyone have to say that? Does any of us live or spend time with the boys? Using the FACTS logic, i could come to bummies profile every so often and be like - listen girl, you have to stop leading people on with your "hints" and "coincidences" and stick to the facts only tyvm. Right? Instead, i choose to visit your blog every day, LIVING for the content you put here.

Of course, there is always the responsibilty towards what you post publicly for everyone to see, but as long as there is nothing harmful or malicious im not being nit picky about it.

There are so few profiles dedicated to yuzhou left. There is bummies blog and like another 10ish instagram profiles still actively posting about them as one. Why having any bad vibes about any of them? Why showing any negative energy to anyone? Throwing shade or hate? What is the point like? Aren't we all here because we are supporting the boys for ALL the work they have done in the last 5 years, watching their growth in life and careers and having some light, fun time while doing it? Why creating any bad blood? I mean, we are basically being gossips girls, sorry everyone, we are not saving the world here or curing pandemics to take things so seriously.

As usual bummie, im ending this by thanking you yet again so much for everything you do, keep up with the good work! 🤗🤗🤗

Thanks for sharing your opinion. However, I just wanna make some points clearer here:

Tbh I'm not biased towards anyone in this case so I'm just gonna say what I'm thinking now. The previous anonymous ask about vsm was somehow pretty harsh towards vsm and I really don't want anyone to throw shade on her at all because I know she's a lovely fan of YZ and she's just trying her best to share the latest info about the boys. I know not all of her posts are about the facts; many of them are just delulus and jokes among fans, which are normal, and of course it's her own account so she could literally share anything she wants. However, I myself prefer the clarity in news/info delivery more, I mean if the post is just a delulu or joke, it should be stated clearly in order not to cause misleading or misunderstood things, because many interfans do not have Weibo accounts to double check the info, not to mention those new fans who might get confused even more. I have to say that this isn't the first time someone asking me about the reliability of some vsm's posts on IG because of her "vague" words and translation, and then I had to find the original posts on Weibo again or double check the info with Chinese cpfs then told vsm to correct her words.

So my opinion is that we are all sharing info with a big love for our idols but we also need to care about the clarity and reliability of our content as well. Of course we do not need to please anyone on the internet but at least we're responsible for what we post and those who might read it.

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miastideclock · 3 years

Text

Seventeen Hip Hop Unit At Their Wedding

-I know no one requested this but I had to. I tried my best to avoid the mention of the reader’s parents or family, but if I have incorporated any family or extended family without noticing, I am really sorry and do ask you to let me know so I can correct my mistake. Thank you.

S.Coups

Wedding Dress:

Seungcheol is obviously the leader of the group, which in my eyes also makes him appear as the most mature. That would be why I think this v-neck dress with flowy shoulder detailing is perfect for him and his wedding.

As him and his bride, that being you, are roaming around the reception, the dress focuses to both the playful youth of the couple, but also brings light to the ‘adult’ aspects.

With this dress jewelry is not necessary as the detailing of the bodice is a statement in and on itself.

Location:

An Ocean Club would be the perfect place for you and Seungcheol to get married. It’s classy, it’s elegant and it’s so romantic. Decorate it with flowers and lights and you have yourself a wedding venue.

Music:

A picture of your first dance can be found in the dictionary under the word ‘romantic’. As you sway around to the lovely I Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley, your guest stare in awe, wondering if their first dance will be as picture perfect as yours.

Honeymoon:

You’re looking for adventures like whale watching and snorkeling, while also wanting to eat delicious foods, and that is exactly why you’re going to Baja California, Mexico. It’s romantic, and fun- meaning no time will go to waste, even if you’re just chilling in your hotel.

Your groom:

Wonwoo

Wedding Dress:

Simple and elegant with a rustic vibe. That is exactly what this a-line dress with a wire corset is. The flow of the dress accents the whimsical aspects, while the bodice keeps it elegant.

With such a simple dress, you can’t go wrong with jewelry. Nothing clunky, or the attention will be withdrawn from the dress. Something dainty, like a raw cut diamond necklace with matching earrings. With this dress I can even see a headpiece. A small headband or a simple hair-clip.

Location:

Perfectly matching the rustic yet elegant nature of the dress, your wedding will take place in a boathouse. At first glance, you were both unsure, but after decorating it, you couldn’t be happier with your decision. Lights strung across the ceiling, and rolls of fabric creating a stunning centerpiece along with climbing vines and other plants.

Music:

As it’s just as stunning as the original, Michael Bublé’s version of La Vie En Rose was the song you chose to have your first dance to. Waltzing around the open floor with your guests admiring your smooth and flowy techniques. Romantic is an understatement.

Honeymoon:

How does going on a swimming Blue Cave Tour sound? Maybe visiting the Walls of Dubrovnik? Or is a Cable Car ride over the old city more interesting? As you ticked yes to all of these questions, Dubrovnik, Croatia is the place for you. Both you and your fianceé agree that you loved both the romantic parts of the city, and also the educational ones- which was why you decided this would be the perfect place to honeymoon.

Your groom:

Mingyu

some songs i listened to while writing -Play This When I’m Gone by Machine Gun Kelly -Fall by Palisades -ON by BTS

Wedding Dress:

A a-line dress with a sheer sleeve and a beaded bodice is a combination that rarely ever fails. It’s breathtaking, no matter what the venue of the wedding is, always being able to keep the spotlight on you, the bride.

With a dress as extravagant as this, I feel like it would be competing with any necklaces, so rather go for a type of earring that would either match the lacing of the dress, or something sleek and dainty.

Location:

A botanical garden. It’s fresh, it’s dreamy and it’s prefect for a couple like you. With a venue like this, it doesn’t matter what the weather is like, as it will be aesthetic and gorgeous whether its sunny or raining, or even better- snowing.

Music:

The Way You Look Tonight by Fred Astaire has always been a favorite of yours, so when Mingyu suggested you had it as your first dance, you swore you could cry. It would be so dreamy dancing to the soft tunes of the song from 1936.

Honeymoon:

You and Mingyu have always been that Instagram-perfect couple, even in real life. Your friends and family could confirm this. So when you asked your friend-group for honeymoon inspiration, they told you to go to the most Instagram-perfect destination. And that would be how you landed in Santorini, Greece.

Your groom:

Vernon

Wedding Dress:

For someone like Hansol, I can picture something sleek and elegant, almost with a touch of royal. A straight, off the shoulder dress with a detachable skirt.

The smooth lines and eye-catching silhouette of the dress makes it easy to pair with almost any kind of jewelry. With this though I could imagine something like a lace choker in a ivory color, something to bring the eye up, while also letting your collarbones and shoulders be its own statement.

Location:

With such a stunning dress, you can’t forget a stunning venue. A classic hotel-ballroom will be perfect for you and Hansol’s white wedding, the flowers and ceiling detailing being the perfect finishing touches for the perfect evening.

Music:

As you and Hansol step onto the dancefloor for the first dance as husband and wife, the soft notes of The Few Things by JP Saxe starts playing. With such a deep and meaningful song, it is impossible not to shed a few tears while watching you sway across the floor, looking at each other with such love. At least that was what Seungkwan told you after the wedding, Soonyoung showing you pictures of the sobbing boy during the dance.

Honeymoon:

Fiji You and Hansol had done quite a lot of travelling in your day, so you had been to most of the shopping- and educational-destinations. That was why you decided on a purely romantic honeymoon in Fiji. There you can find things such as Heritage Park, Tavoro Waterfalls and Coastal Walk. All things you and Hansol can enjoy together.

Your groom:

did anyone request this? absolutely not. yet, here we are :)

-bentley

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop one shot #kpop requests #kpop drabble #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen one shot #seventeen requests #seventeen drabbles

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the-deep-fog · 3 years

Text

The moon and sun have lost themselves to obscurity, and Fog descends. The environment is as classic a superpowered showdown setting one can get while still playing hospitality to a meandering mist that prefers uncountably many corners to hide itself in. One villain, a radioactive rebel holding to life like a weed that takes in pesticides for dessert, scouts the area, freshly healed and eager for a bout of vengeance. Another, the spitefully surviving embodiment of Harlan Ellison’s worst fears, calmly scours the playing field with no end of possible ending gambits stored in its motherboard/mind. Fully beknownst to their individual selves, whispered wonders and warnings reach them from unseen mouths yawning in the mist, subtly and ever so maddeningly guiding them further within the misty maze. Until, they meet. “Oh, Haricot,” CD crows, “back so soon? Why couldn’t you have stayed in the ground to rot a little longer? Are you that eager for another easy loss?” “Far from it, Chess,” returns Haricot. “Surely you don’t think I’d simply waste my time while relieved of your presence for ever so short a while?” It scoffs. “I should hope so, or else this will be over far too quickly to even be fun.” Ey smirk and start to reply, but cut emself off as the air between the two collects, gathers, and confuses into the outline of a figure sitting cross-legged with its chin resting in its hands. “Why, hello you two, Fancy meeting you here.” Both let off annoyed sighs (the similarities stopping there). CD speaks up. “Ugh, can’t you ever take this seriously?” “Yeah, way to kill the vibe,” Haricot follows up. Their complaints are met with only a grin. Suddenly directly in their faces, Fog actually replies, “So. I bet you’re wondering why I’m here.” The villainous duo look bemused, in a conniving sort of way. Haricot speaks first. “Believe it or not, I do know why you’re here- and Chess, trust me when I say it’s not a pleasant reason for you.” Incredulous, Chess replies, “Excuse me, but it’s not like I don’t know their reason for being here, and though your reaction seems improper it’s not like it matters that you think you know the situation, when in fact you’re in for...” “I didn’t lie, you know. To either of you.” Fog’s everlasting grin shifts slightly to a smirk, and the two rivals come to a realization at the same time. “Oh, you slippery little- “I knew that promise was too good to be true!” Well aware that riling up two of the biggest supervillains round the block leaves them in dire straits, the formless figure untangles their stature, giving off the appearance of taking a fighting stance. “Now, now, I’m not going back on my word at all! I shall deal as much damage as I can, just as promised. It’s only up to you whether to take advantage of the situation as it concerns your adamant adversary, or, yknow. Direct your avenging attention elsewhere.” Haricot reaches for a thorny beanstalk as they rise from the earth in numbers. “If you get dealt with permanently through all this, that’s one less thing getting in the way of me taking down Chess for good.” CD, in tandem, tessellates a jagged aspect of the ground and nods. “The less you bug me, Fog, the easier I’ll have it claiming victory over Haricot as well.” Zer smile grows even further, accompanied by the emergence of eyes from countless nooks and crannies in The Fog one could not imagine. For just because nobody could possibly know how one misty menace might pose a tangible threat, inflict damage of a directly mortal kind, it could be true all the same.

...

“Why are you doing this?” shouts Haricot, steadily growing a host of shrubs to shield emself with. “You must have a motive, nobody ever does stuff like this without a motive.” The Fog laughs, gleeful as ever, a booming sound that seems to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. “You think I have a motive? That I am driven by anything to do what I do? Such things are the creations of you individuals; I have never had use for them. I go, and I act, and if that’s too much for you to comprehend then...” Though irradiating to demolition an eye that can hardly be described as there at all is a daunting task, Haricot pulls it off with determined flair. “Yeah, but you’re clearly going after me and Chess with some specificity- why go through all that extra effort? I know we’re not easy targets.” Fog lunges from & through nothing, resting in midair directly in front of them and looking at them intensely- less in a means of observation and more as mere eye contact for the first time they can think of. “Oh, the questions I ask have you asking questions in turn, what a wonderful relationship we have!” Haricot takes a step back, trying to develop personal space in a place where space itself can hardly be relied on, much less personhood, while Fog holds almost violently still amid the malevolent maelstrom. “I ask you this because you ask me the very same. Never has my question been, ‘why do you do this?’ because never have you, the one in my domain, done something humans don’t, and never has your question of ‘why’ been something I-” The ground beneath Haricot’s feet, steady as carbon-14, dissolves into murky air. Fog is torn to shreds above em as ey hurtle an unfathomable distance downward, till a web of vines and sludgy wood dense enough to support em forms. Though unclimbable walls extend around them, and depths great enough to distort the definitions of up and down yawn in every other direction, Fog reemerges from around a corner that cannot be found with an unprecedented frenzy in xer eyes. “You fight for your life, to survive, and I know how-why that happens. I know it,” they speak, with enough force to shatter a barometer. “Survival and curiosity are what motivates a human, but you two aren’t human, you reject it entirely, and you’re driven by more than this basic, primal duality, the intrinsic and extrinsic.” Can it yet be called an invasion of personal space when one has lost any sense of their body’s own position in space, and the other never had one to begin with? “You’re like me, and everybody questions me, and I too question everyone, but, I never- Sticks and stones degrade at the rotting hand of nuclear fusion. Haricot Heretic fights on.

...

Chess offenses, enacting gambit after glitchy gambit. “Damn you,” it mutters, then speaks more loudly into the stormy still. “What’s your goal in all this? Where are you trying to take this?” A cackle, harsh and untraceable, answers it at first. “Now, why would you assume I care for the results of my actions? That I aspire to achieve anything at all, beyond what you bear witness and contribute to as we speak?” Every word from The Fog’s mouths slithers through the air without discretion, almost as though it cares more about being heard than having its words said. The sharpness is turned down, resolution diminished, and threat put aside in a display of defensive tactics (though, how a cloud could ever be sharp enough to threaten in the first place remains bewilderingly unclear). “Look, you say you’ll never be satisfied, that it doesn’t matter if results are insubstantial- I don’t buy that. But you must know how we fight well enough to tell this won’t end well for you, so why devise all this in the first place?” CD asks again. It’s greeted by a face, ferocious and fanged, thrusting from the warring pixelation and obscurity besieging them. “I am transparent, you devil. You’re right, this is all futile, and for you to be correct at all shows my failure beautifully. I know not where this capacity for failure and determination in spite of such came from, because if I did, if my years spent interrogating the human race turn out to now have a tangible point, a lesson for me to learn, then-” Something or nothing or another scrapes hard against Chess’ horns, toppling it backwards into freefall. The ground, or whatever is passing for it, meets it immediately; jagged, hungry, & inviting. Something, many of it, planar and sharp enough to cut, is propelled or flung from the floor at it as it tries to pick itself up again. “You ask me questions I cannot, rather than will & would not answer, and I give you information I would & will not rather than can not.” Hir words seep through the condensation, slithering forward from behind its back just as easily as toothy mouths stretch as far as it can see in front of it. “You’re asking me questions none other have asked me- it should be inevitable. So why do I ask you, is it because you are different from any I have met before, or because I am different than-” The hard line between ones and zeroes forces separation and relief from the unclarity oppressing itself unto it. Checkmate is sought for ever longer. Checkered Devil fights on.

...

The fog is in no way noticed shifting, and yet Haricot & Chess find themselves in a clearing all the same. The two stand poised, not yet tired nor in peak form after all that has passed. Fog hangs in the air in front of them, not in form either. Sharp eyes, inhuman teeth, fill up space surrounding as they always have; a face, almost an outline, is arranged on Fog as it never has. It’s hesitant. Acting on impulse. Cowed and afraid. With all the cards in its hands. Ready to give up. Surely unstoppable. The target of infinite inquiries. Uncertain. “What do we have in common? Nothing of your motivation unites you with humanity- I am filled with questions, and that unites me with... them.” To Haricot and Chess, the sensation of eyes sliding their attention off them and onto another had never before been so very tangible. Nor had anything to do with Fog ever been tangible, though, only this far. “I know humanity when I see it- I don’t think these roles were meant to be reversed, okay?” they cut themself off, with their form almost seeming to be headed in a similar direction. Towards our villainous pair, a hand stretches forward. The wind picks up, drowning out sound & blurring vision, forcing the two to brace themselves; the only thing left clear in the maelstrom is a pair of eyes & a simple mouth- a face -and that hand, reaching, grasping, searching as far as it possibly can. “I am faced with the incomprehensible, filled to my limit with questions thanks to you two,” they yell, and scream, and whisper into the wind, “and it’s maddening. Every time i look at you two, it’s so, so, familiar it hurts

...

The sun rests comfortably in the sky. The moon, desaturated, finds a place above our villains’ heads as well. The Checkered Devil and Haricot Heretic stand, alone, on a simple grassy field. The air has cleared, only in a literal sense, and on the flat, clean, ground, rests a notebook, plain as can be.

...Does it get opened to the very first, or the very last page?

#writing #[that last sentence is indeed a prompt. an answer will be necessary]#hhvcd

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

Note

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

- 🔺:)

Since you put so many stars I'm gonna do a bunch of scenes from the fic

(for this ask game)

It was easiest to just tell Tim all the facts rather than rely on the goodwill you've built in 3 years to persuade him.

I was actually pretty stuck on how to write this fic. I knew I wanted to write Tim and Reader urban exploring for a really long time and this is actually the specific kind of fic I've been dying to write awhile now. Hilariously enough what jumpstarted the entire fic was your manipulation HCs. I freaking loved them and it made me want to write Reader trying to manipulate Tim. I like Reader characters with very gray moral lines or a very necessity based moral compass. I think this kind of reader really fits into the setting but they're slowly getting corrupted by Tim *cackles*

People say it was an abomination (An unidentifiable, Tim corrected but you still think abomination captured the appropriate dramatic for that.)

This part I actually kind of like because this series gives me so much opportunity to fuck around with diction and vernacular of people from not only different classes but also different geographical backgrounds. Tim and Reader were written specifically so I could explore this weird effect of having education not be completely available to the public. Reader's perspective on these creatures is less clinical which has them rely upon superstition and folklore to interpret what is in front of them while Tim who gets more accurate information or gets a less dispersed version.

You highly doubt Bludhaven was in any shape to contain whatever it is ravaging sector 4-D. After all, it wasn't in any better shape than Gotham was at the moment. You doubt it's ever been in better shape. They're like two cities constantly caught in this vortex of awfulness, looking at each other from two different sides thinking 'poor bastards'.

I am not 100% certain of the canonical relationship between Gothamites and People in Bludhaven but this just sounds funny.

Sector 4-D was an easy hunting ground where young scavengers got their feet wet before they could move on.

I like the idea of more reputable guilds in the world forcefully partnering up scavenger veterans with youngins to make sure they can safely learn the ropes and not die immediately. The starting age varies wildly per organization but the oldest starting is 17 and the youngest is 12. This is at least what the records say. It's easy enough to lie when record-keeping is shit.

Appealing to the guy's sense of responsibility was kind of cheating

Small nod to Tim's motivation to become Robin :)

A building full of books and most importantly, medical textbooks.

Not a lot of books or even research material survived the nearly century-long span between the start of the pandemic and the present day. This was mostly due to people trying to take care of things on their own (setting fire to each other) and general distrust towards authority figures. This is me ranting about current state of affairs.

You try to push down the number of zeroes the man had shown you as you zip past a rusted sign.

There is currency in this world but it's decentralized and useless unless you're A) in Gotham and B) hoping to use it when bargaining with the government. Reader is hoping to use the money for something however it sadly won't help with daily expenses.

Besides, all the other people who won't stab you after cashing in the reward probably don't know half as many words as Tim so you'll definitely need him to get the right books.

My failed attempt at subtly nodding to Reader's illiteracy.

You stare at the rows of cars before you. They're overrun with weeds and vines and rust. A stark reminder that your Gotham is just a fraction of what it had been. You stop your bike in front of a taxi with a faded yellow body.

Reason I like post-apocalypse aus: ruined cities. I live the aesthetic of old abandoned buildings as nature starts to reclaim.

At least not when you checked but you really don't wanna gamble your Scavenger's license on clerical errors by either of your guilds.

I have so many stupid notes on this one occupation

Tim steps out of the sidecar, careful not to jostle Basil in his bag. You want to point out that you should probably wake the cat up otherwise you were wasting food on him but you knew better than to expect cooperation from Tim's furball from hell.

No commentary I just love Basil.

“The one that involves the least aliens.” You pause, narrowing your eyes at Tim whose hand is currently being eaten by his cat. “Or alien adjacent things.”

I was half tempted to prove reader wrong.

Grade A my ass, you think staring at the furball nipping at his knuckles.

The cats given to guild members have different rankings based on how capable they are in detecting and attacking/hunting the creatures. Grade A is supposed to be top of the line. Reader thinks Tim's been scammed.

“Maybe,” you tilt your head, “or maybe the people from before were just idiots.”

I am describing myself.

The skittering voices rise like the fluttering of locust wings.

[The scene where the monster appears]

Absolutely freaking love this scene because I am a huge fan of body horror and I started off writing horror. I had to look up just the right words to describe the vibe I got from Mask Face in Spirited Away. I wanted to creep people out as much as Tim and Reader were creeped out. I also wanted to make the disease's effects more monstrous so that the mythological stuff it inspires sounds more plausible. This creature is likely to reappear.

You splay a hand on Tim’s chest, pushing him back lightly.

Brain screamed: protective gesture.

It blinks at you.

It. Blinks. At. *You.*

Due to the mostly nocturnal nature of the infected fauna, most of them are blind, so this development is horrifying. It's like when Texas Chainsaw Massacre set its horrors in the daylight. They've now been robbed of another safety measure.

"For the record, I hate your plans." You say, gagging.

"What was yours?" Tim fires back, dusting his hair.

"..."

"Just what I thought."

I love sassy Tim :)

Tim doesn't respond.

You pull your hand away and it’s slick with blood.

*Cackles*

#here is my essay

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lifeofroos · 3 years

Text

Part 49. Lets be real, things that are free taste ever so slightly better.

In short: Nico gets therapy from Dionysus. In this chapter, Nico tries to find Christmas gifts people he cares about with Will. The rest can be found on AO3 and FanFiction.net! And also in Tumblr tags like Dionysus, Nico di Angelo, therapy etc.

This Might Be Crazy: Chapter 49: Free chocolate milk

‘And then suddenly it’s Christmas.’ I looked around. New York looked like the Christmas elves had dropped a bag of joy over it.

Will looked at me. ‘Not to scare you, but the city has been looking like this since Halloween.’

‘I try to ignore that.’

Will sighed and laughed at the same time. ‘Sure. Come now, you needed to buy Christmas presents, we should get to buying them.’

‘Yes, of course... hey!’ He grabbed my arm and pulled me along, further into the heart of New York.

‘They really were just too lazy to name these streets.’

Will sighed. ‘No.’ He looked at his phone. ‘It is way easier to find out where the streets are. You just follow the number.’

‘I guess. Which street are we on now?’ I looked around, but I didn’t see a number anywhere. Will narrowed his eyes, while still looking at his phone. ‘If I am correct, we are on thirty-third.’

‘Ah.’ I took a step back when two screaming children ran past me, followed by a tired looking mother. ‘We need to go to Jackson village, too. I don’t mean Sally Jacksons’ place, but the actual, physical part of town.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Free drinks at Denny’s.’

Will grinned. ‘Those are always welcome. Also, Google Maps gave me the directions I asked for. Let’s go.’

I had to give Will some credit, he chose his boring chocolates rather quickly. Why he had to go to all the way to New York for them was beyond me, though.

Will handed me a tiny felt box. ‘Alright. We should go with the subway, then maybe we can actually reach Jackson village before Christmas. Here, eat.’ I opened the box. It had two heart-shaped chocolates in them.

‘Will, that is kinda sappy.’ I put the bonbon into my mouth. ‘And I like sappy sometimes. Alright. Can we get out of the subway a few stops earlier than necessary? I am not entirely sure what to get people, so I want to see a few shops.’

‘I mean, I was thinking of going to a dollar store to buy things for the Camp gift exchange, and we could go to an outlet if you wanted something for Reyna, Hazel or Percy…’

‘Hm. For camp a dollar store is good, and maybe I can even find some fun things for my friends as well. For Hazel I already bought a knitted raccoon hat, though. And I will not buy your present while you are standing right next to me.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Perhaps.’

‘Alright. Come, I see a subway station over there.’

Even though they are probably the grossest and busiest places in New York, I kind of liked the undergrounds. Kind of stupid, but well, they were under the ground.

We got out and went up to street level again. Lo and behold, there was a dollar store right across the street.

‘I always wonder how they can stuff even more garbage into stores like those then they can into IKEA,’ I thought out loud, while we crossed the street. Will shrugged.

‘Talent, I guess.’

‘Talent? Oh, what. At least I will be able to find something Percy will go absolutely insane for that costs me nothing more than a measly dollar.’

‘Last time I was in the dollar store, they had dolphin shaped candy boxes.’

‘If they have those again, I’ll take two. Otherwise Percy will complain that his dolphin-shaped candy box is lonely.’

Maybe it was all trash, but it was easy trash. Packed with presents for almost everyone we cared a little or slightly more than a little about, we got out of the dollar store.

‘So, that was quite productive,’ Will mentioned. He was carrying the plastic bag with our stuff.

‘Yes.’ I looked around, at the other stores. Somewhere, they were bound to have something.

‘What I did not say before is that I am actually looking for something for Dionysus. I do not know if he celebrates Christmas, but I do know it is his birthday.’

‘The 25th of December?’

‘Yes.’

‘So, basically, Jesus just took over his birthday?’

‘Yes. I don’t know how he feels about it.’ Maybe I’ll ask.

Will hummed. ‘I think it is pretty difficult to find something for a god, though. That being said, I do think Dionysus will be happy no matter what.’

‘Maybe...’

‘Oh, here is a thrift store!’ Will pointed . We stopped walking. ‘Do you mind if we go there for a second? I need something they might have there.’

‘Are you entirely sure what that thing is?’

‘You never do with thrift-stores.’ I sighed.

‘Yeah, true.’ I wrapped my arm around his waist while we went in.

It was a pretty big thrift store and it clearly didn’t just sell regular mortal junk. I wandered off, while Will searched through the old books.

I ended up in the jewelry section. It looked as if both an old grandma and her six year old granddaughter had just given away all of their jewelry. All I saw was ancient-looking pearl necklaces and pink fairy rings.

I looked in a few drawers of an old cupboard. It was all clearly not worth much, otherwise it would not be laying out in the open, but it sure looked shiny.

In one of the drawers, I found an earring. I could not find its better half, but it did look a lot like something Will had shown me that he wanted to buy but could not find anywhere.

I let it roll from one hand into the other. Was it dangerous to gift your boyfriend jewelry from a thrift store that radiated weird energy? Maybe. But the earring itself did not do so.

I dug slightly deeper, looking around for more stuff the people who were worth more than dollar store gifts would appreciate. Now that I took a good look at it, the jewelry cabinet was kind of a goldmine, no pun intended. I even found a small, gold necklace for Reyna (Probably fake-golden, otherwise it would not be lying around in a random cabinet-drawer, but still).

Eventually, I looked up and saw a small glass cabinet. There was a brooch on display that made me unable to stop looking at it. I did not recognise the gemstone they used, if it was even a real gemstone, but it was a deep purple. The brooch was shaped like, vines running past and over each other.

The thing cost only five dollars. It was as if the universe was pushing me to get it (But I could have imagined that).

In the background, I heard Will say something to the seller (Who did not sound entirely like human to me). Slowly, I walked past the shelves, hoping I could somehow buy what I wanted without Will noticing.

After a few seconds, I felt a tap on my shoulders. I turned around. There was a second not-entirely-human seller standing behind me.

‘You want what you are currently holding and the purple brooch without your boyfriend over there noticing , is that right?’ He asked, in a coarse voice.

‘Eh, yes,’ I whispered.

The seller grinned. ‘I get it, youngling. You saw the prices. Twenty dollars and it is all yours.’

I had no idea whether those were the actual prices, but twenty dollars was not super expensive, so I handed it to him. He unlocked the glass cabinet, got out the brooch, I put everything into the pocket of my coat and joined Will again.

The seller, who Will was just done with, looked exactly like the seller I had spoken to had. Will grabbed my hand and we walked out. I looked over my shoulder as Will opened the door. The seller winked at me.

‘Sad that you did not find anything ,’ Will said, while we made our way over to Denny’s.

‘Oh well,’ I answered, while I squeezed his hand.

‘Nico!’ Mary smiled widely when she looked at us. ‘Is that your boyfriend?’

‘Yes!’

‘Well, he is adorable.’ She winked and gave us two free hot chocolates. ‘As promised.’

I was not above getting free hot chocolate, so I thanked her and we sat down one booth further from the booth I usually sat with Dionysus. The Denny’s was busier around this time.

Will looked around. ‘There is a Dionysus-vibe here.’

I nodded and took a sip. ‘Oh yes. There always is.’

Will smiled and pulled his legs onto the couch. ‘I think that was a productive day, Nico. I think I’ve got almost everything I need. ’

‘Me too.’ I grinned, which left Will eyeing me suspiciously.

A/N: Fun Fact: there are barely any subways in the Netherlands. We have busses, trains and trams (In some cities), but no subways.

It has never been academically proven that the 25th is Dionysus birthday. There is no proof whatsover. Don’t go around quoting me on that, because it is a Tumblr thing, NOT PROVEN!

Aside from maybe a little general magic, the jewelry is not cursed. Just calming you down there.

Tell me how do you all see Dionysus? Because during writing I have constantly had the young, mythological version in my head. Long black hair, purple eyes, frail, basically not what Rick Riordan described. That is why I have been calling him Dionysus and not Mr. D, because that ain’t him to me.

This isn't really a therapy chapter but shhh it shows Nico is healing.

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shadows-twilight · 3 years

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RWBY Volume 8 Chapter 13

May various thoughts and opinions on the penultimate episode of RWBY Volume 8, “Worthy”.

Jesus Christ

SPOILERS BELOW:

Another Light Sensitivity warning. Oh boy.

Of course Jaune gets to be the guinea pig. Poor guy.

“If anyone will need help, it’s them” I don’t know, after all the shit that went down at the end of “Before the Dawn”, this might actually be a cakewalk in comparison.

Nora looks like a witch on a broomstick riding Magnhild like that and I kind of love it.

Can we get Penny some shoes. Poor girl’s going to be in the desert with bare feet.

I was very excited to get our first look at Vacuo and Shade. Should’ve figured they wouldn’t be spoiling us THAT hard. Though, to be fair, you couldn’t ask for a more Vacuan welcome.

Well, on the bright side, whoever ends up falling is going to have the company of about two dozen randos. Cinder definitely knows how to make an entrance.

I’m going to take a wild guess that Cinder’s not being all that sincere with her regret towards Neo? I mean, her acting isn’t exactly Oscar-worthy (Cinder’s, not Jessica’s. She’s actually gotten really good over the years).

Of all the things I expected the last question to be used on, this was not one of them.

Jinn looks genuinely upset to have to answer this. Aww, she likes them. But, you know, a genie-allegory’s got to do what a genie-allegory’s got to do.

Cinder officially knows that Emerald is on the side of the angels. The fact that her reaction wasn’t bigger is actually quite telling.

Damn, that cold cut between the people looking surprised and all of them being dead. Brutal. RIP, Bill.

“You deserve this, Arthur”. Oh boy, he’s going to die!

You know, it’s subtle, since their faces can’t move much, but I think Elm properly heard Robyn when she made the point about the kingdom being it’s people, not the city. Good on you, Elm.

The bomber robot is giving me serious Terminator vibes.

Marrow is just raking in those “good boy” points this volume, isn’t he? Dud just took a bomb to the face for these people.

So, umm, did Watts let Ironwood out on purpose? Particularly for the purpose of stirring the pot? That certainly seems like something he would do.

Well, uh, RIP Jacques, I guess. Not gonna lie, I figured that would have been more satisfying than it was. Oh well, rot in hell, dirt bag.

And there we have it, the first of our characters to fall. I mean, on one hand, no way in hell would they have one of the titular characters die in such a fashion, so this all but confirms that there’s something waiting on the other side of this abyss, but on the other hand they do a really good job of selling the shock and grief of “losing” someone. Damn, this show is good.

I like that for a brief second, Penny forgot that she no longer had Floating Array, thought me likey the replacements she constructed.

Almost thought Weiss was going to fall there, too, to be honest.

Ok, I was officially too hasty in writing Vine off. I’m ok with being wrong on this one.

Sadly, we were all too correct in giving up on Harriet. I mean, principle? Loyalty? She’s trying to blow up thousands of innocent people and for what? Clover’s memory? He’d be ok with slaughtering all of these people in his honor? Because if that’s true, than I’m now officially ok with him going out the way he did.

Sadly, while it looks like Vine might have actually been getting through to her, Robyn has arrived to shatter the mood. Can’t really blame her, since she had no way of knowing how that conversation was going, but still. Timing could have been better.

That is the second time Qrow has ambushed a confused person using his bird form, and it was just as funny as the first time.

Yep, there’s the reaction from Ironwood I was hoping for. God, every time you think this man’s hit rock bottom, bastard’s gotta go and pull out a pickaxe.

“I've never wavered in fighting the enemies of this kingdom. And I won’t start now.” If that is not the page quote on Winter’s wiki page after this, I am going to be SEVERELY disappointed.

If Ironwood was trying to garner sympathy with that tear, he has ridiculously missed the mark.

Yeah, I was wondering if that was going to be the case with those portals. Granted, I originally thought it was intended feature rather than a bug, but still.

Hey, we got our first look in-show look at the Ravagers! Now please, for the love of god, show me a Ziraph.

The end is near, and we have our final battles. Ruby, Weiss, Blake, and Penny vs Cinder and Neo, Qrow, Robyn, Vine, and possibly Elm vs Harriet (and, to an extent, Watts), Winter vs Ironwood, and Ren, Emerald, and Oscar vs a bunch of Ravagers. Things have gone all kinds of insane, and emotions are running high! I’m equal parts scared and excited going into next week’s finale, and while i have no idea how it’s going to go, damn, is it going to be a ride. Until then, pardon me while I go scream into the void for a week. Excuse me, Yang.

#rwby #rwby volume 8 #rwby spoilers #rwby thoughts and opinions #rooster teeth animation

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damienthepious · 4 years

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owo november is over babesssss back 2 your regularly scheduled full-size lizard content

Made A Garden (Chapter 3)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ao3]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Rilla

Characters: Rilla, Lord Arum, Rilla’s Parents, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, (categorized as ‘other’ bc arum is nonbinary when i write him bye), Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, POV Alternating, canon typical Arum ignoring feelings, edited to feature my Rilla's Two Dads theory

Fic Summary: Rilla’s parents take her out when they do field work. She’s a smart kid, and she knows how not to get in trouble when they’re caught up with their experiments and research. This time, they’ve taken her to an enormous, beautiful swamp, and their theory is that the monstrous presence in this place should be entirely dormant- which is why Rilla is so surprised, when she meets a monster for herself.

Chapter Summary: Lord Arum tries to prove a point. Rilla gets excited!

Notes: no, i absolutely did not mean to take this long between chapters. i promise that i NEVER do. i'm just an easily distractible mess, is the thing. welcome to december here are the summery vibes again!!! loveyou

The Keep murmurs a question, a song that whispers in Arum's mind, awash with affection and concern. Are you not going to walk your swamp today, little Lord?

Arum scowls, pacing in a narrow figure eight as he reads through one of his predecessors’ journals. Again. “I do not need to do the same thing every day, Keep,” he grumbles. “And don't call me that.”

It hums an assent, clearly unconvinced. It pauses for a long moment, allowing him to continue his reading, but he isn't surprised when it chimes again, a light offer of assistance, a nudge towards what the Keep may do, to protect the both of them, if Arum wishes to have his swamp to himself again-

“Don’t-”

The book tumbles from his hands, thwumping to the floor as Arum winces.

It sings another nudge, pushing further in that direction, encouraging and warm.

“I simply do not feel like gallivanting around today!” he snarls. “It has nothing to do with her.”

There is another pause, and then the Keep trills in a vague, bemused sort of way.

Arum snatches the book back up from the floor with his tail, then clutches it to his chest. “I am not afraid of the humans,” he deflects, sticking his snout in the air. “They are utterly nonthreatening. They aren’t warriors or knights- they are some sort of- explorers,” he says derisively. “Scholars or researchers or some such. No threat, none at all.”

The Keep hums, even softer, how that will make it all the easier, to chase them out-

“No!” Arum stuffs the book back onto the shelves, his tail lashing behind him and his frill high. “It- it isn’t worth your effort, Keep. If they come close enough to be troublesome we can- can push them back away, but as it stands they hardly bear mentioning. It is highly obnoxious that we have spent even this much time discussing them.”

The Keep hums, clearly unconvinced, but Arum turns his snout up. He has ended the conversation. The conversation is over, and the humans need not be mentioned again. Obviously.

However. Arum has now put away his book, and he does not, in fact, know what he wishes to do next. He intended to spend his morning decoding and researching, but now- well, thanks to his meddling plant, he is far too agitated for that sort of focus-driven task, and he refuses to waste time trying to plug away at old Vetch ’s journals when his mind is not at its keenest. It would be pointless.

The Keep warbles again, and Arum bristles at the teasing edge in its tone.

“Fine,” Arum snaps after a moment, his frill fluttering at his neck. “Fine. If you should like me to prove my words, then I shall. You are in my mind, you ridiculous creature, but if that is not evidence enough for you, I will deign to assuage your pointless worries. I am not afraid of them,” he says, the hint of a snarl in his controlled tone. “I am not, and I will prove it. I shall go, and I shall walk my swamp, and no humans nor ridiculous ancient structures will deny me what I wish.”

The Keep hums one more question, its concern not quite assuaged.

“I know what I am doing!” Arum snarls, and he tries very hard not to wince when his voice creaks in the middle. “I will not be patronized! Am I Lord Arum, Keep, or am I some whelp for you to coddle and dismiss?”

It sings, patient, that he is Lord of the Swamp, and then after a moment it acquiesces, pulling a doorway open for him, out into his wilderness. It adds, gentle, that its duty is to protect Arum, just as Arum’s duty is to protect it in turn, and Arum stuffs down the little lance of guilt that stabs through him at that. He sticks his snout in the air, instead.

"And so I shall, if you simply allow me to do as I please."

The Keep pauses, and then it gives an indulgent hum as he steps out into the humid warmth of the afternoon.

Arum waits with his arms tangled across his chest until the Keep closes the way behind him, and then he-

He manages perhaps a half an hour inspecting his swamp before the curiosity worms through his scales. His tools and traps seem to be growing well, and those left by his predecessor are, he begrudgingly admits, even more promising. The fauna of the swamp seem perfectly content as well, with no management required from his part (excepting a particularly unlucky mongoose with a paw trapped between some tangled roots, but that hardly takes more than a moment to rectify).

He can't simply return home, though. Not this soon. That would hardly prove his point, would it? It would make the Keep insufferably smug, especially considering the wide berth he's given the humans and their little encampment.

Well. He can fix that part, at the very least, can't he?

It will play into the Keep's vines just as much to seek the humans out, he thinks irritably, but if he is going to lose regardless he may as well lose in the way he wishes to. He is not afraid of them, and if he wishes to make certain that they are not causing trouble, if he wishes to prove to the Keep that they are nonthreatening in no uncertain terms, then by the Universe itself he will.

They are embarrassingly easy to find. It is as if they have no desire to obscure their presence at all. Amaryllis mentioned, he supposes, that they had not been expecting to find much of an active monstrous presence here, but certainly since Amaryllis knows better now-

Has she not… told her parents? Or are they simply unworried over Arum himself, despite every reason they should have to be concerned? Clearly their hypotheses were wrong, so they should reassess their methods, should they not?

Her parents are doing something incomprehensible with glass vials full of swamp water. They perch carefully in a narrow canoe, each counterbalancing for the other as they gather their… samples, perhaps. Arum watches, suspicious, long enough to note that they are rather careful not to disturb the trees they are paddling between, that they avoid the floating flora. He watches long enough to observe as one of them accidentally ducks his hand too deeply into the water, his nose wrinkling as he pulls it back, and then he-

Grins, and his grin is the precise image of the one that Amaryllis wears, and then he flicks the water across the back of his companion, laughing as he squawks and smacks him in the leg.

They both laugh, then, and Arum is unsettled enough that he slips away.

Amaryllis herself it not difficult to find, after that. Still within earshot of the laughter as it subsides, unfortunately, but- the laughter does subside, and Amaryllis is smiling as she sketches away in that little journal of hers.

He watches her for quite some time as well, and he settles against the bark as he does, and he is comforted by the fact that he was, of course, correct.

These humans are entirely without teeth. He is certain that if he desired, he could frighten them away even without the Keep's help. He has no cause whatsoever to worry about them. No reason to fear, no reason to even keep an eye on them.

He remains in the tree for a good long while, however, watching Amaryllis summon with ink the detailed veins of leaves, the segmented bodies of insects, meticulously reconstructed pieces of his swamp.

~~~

Rilla yawns, suddenly, nearly startled by her own body's derailment and only barely managing not to ruin her latest sketch with an errant line. She grumbles to herself, shaking her head, and then she narrows her eyes at the page again, scrutinizing the roots she's drawn for this floating plant uncertainly. She's seen the roots when pulled out of the water, but that's not really representative of how they'd look underwater. She's tried to get a better look with her own head submerged, too, but- well, her eyes aren't really meant for that, and the water here isn't the most clear, either. She holds her breath for a moment, puffing out her cheeks, and then she huffs out the breath, tapping a finger on the page impatiently.

"They spread a bit wider than that," Arum says from above her, and Rilla startles. "And they curve slightly when there's a current, though I suppose most of the ones you've seen here would likely be in more calm waters than that."

Rilla tilts her head up, squinting against the sun until she spots the vivid violet of his eyes gazing back, narrowed and hesitant now that she's looking at him.

"…oh," she says, a little hesitant herself. "Uh-" she just barely stops herself from thanking him, considering how grumpy he got about it the last time. "Neat?"

"Hm," he grumbles, glancing off into the canopy rather than continue to look at her, and she bites her lip in consideration for a long moment.

"Would you- do you wanna show me what you mean?" she asks, lifting the book in her hands just slightly, and Arum's eyes dart to her again. "I think I know what you mean, but…"

He grumbles something, either wordless or just too quiet for her to understand, and then he slips further behind the leaves for a moment. She can still hear the scritch of his claws against the bark, though, which seems like a good sign. When he disappears, he seems to be able to do it without making any sound at all. She hears him growling low as he descends, and then his head peeks out from behind the trunk of a nearby tree, his eyes narrowed again in suspicion.

"Or…" Rilla angles her body a little, leaning sideways to see just a little bit more of the monster before he leans the opposite way in response. "I mean, you don't have to, if you don't-"

"Of course I don't have to," he snaps, "I don't have to do anything. I am ruler here. If I wish to ensure that your catalogue of my home is not full of incorrect information that is my business."

He steps out slightly, two clawed hands still curled around the trunk of the tree beside him, and Rilla realizes with a widening of the eyes that he has two other hands, as well, because the monster apparently has four arms, in addition to his long, twiggy legs and his dexterous tail. She hadn't been expecting that, hadn't realized that in between his first appearance mostly under the water and his second up among the branches, this is the first truly good look she's gotten of him so far. She knows that it's rude to stare, of course, but- but does that really count for scientifically significant and anomalous anatomies?

"Well?" Arum says, apparently wary of her scrutiny. "Do you want me to show you how it grows or don't you?"

"Which hand do you write with?" Rilla blurts, entirely unable to help herself, and Arum blinks.

"Whichever I wish to?" he answers, his scaly brow raising in confusion, and then he comes a little closer, watching her carefully as he reaches a hand out for Rilla to pass the journal to him. She doesn't hesitate, practically shoving it into his hands, extra plural implied. "Does it matter?"

"I mean-" Rilla watches him, noting the way he holds the book in his two lower hands, sketching with his upper left. "Yeah? Can you write with all of them equally well?"

"I'm a monster, not an idiot," he mutters, "of course I can write with all of them. It would hardly be convenient otherwise."

"But-" Rilla wants to bounce, instead she just steps a little closer, watching as Arum switches hands and continues to sketch with equal skill, his own style less detailed and more impressionistic than her own. "I mean, that's not how it is with humans, you know? Most people have a dominant arm that they can more easily perform tasks with, and usually they get so used to using the one arm for specific detailed tasks that the other one falls out of practice and isn't useful for the task anymore! There's a strange prevalence, too, a trend towards- the right hand side is more likely to be dominant than the left, and no one really seems to be sure why, just yet, though I bet we could figure it out if we just did a little bit more research. Though! There are people who can use both arms equally well, or- I mean, I guess some folks probably just train themselves to do so, and maybe it's not entirely an ingrained trait? I'm not sure about that one. Those people are called ambidextrous, which I guess would be okay to call you for a similar trait? Though, it means both sides, so I think a more accurate word would be omnidextrous, as in, all of your hands, though I don't know how many monsters have your limb configuration so it's hard to say how useful a word like that might-"

Arum narrows his eyes, his frill pressing tight against his neck as she talks, but she doesn’t recognize his annoyance for what it is until he interrupts her in a stammering hiss.

“S-slow- will you stop- will you stop yammering on so quickly that only your own shadow can follow? It is infuriating.”

Rilla snaps her mouth shut. She's convinced that her cheeks are flushing dark with the combined anger and embarrassment that smacks through her. This is even worse than when the shopkeep in market square told her to just shut her squawking little mouth already when her father sent her to fetch supplies by herself for the first time. Worse, because she never actually liked that shopkeep very much, but Arum-

“S-sorry,” she says, and her voice comes out quiet and blank and clipped. "I- sorry."

Arum huffs, wrinkling his snout and looking away, and then after a moment he flicks his eyes back towards her. She swallows, her shoulders hunching, and after another odd little pause his brow furrows.

"Well?"

She blinks. "W-well?"

He looks away again. "I did not think you were… finished with your explanation, little human."

"I- I wasn't, but-" she pauses, and Arum hazards another glance towards her, his expression wary. "I thought you- I thought you wanted me to shut up."

Arum pulls his head back. "What? No, I simply-" his frill flutters at his neck, and then it rises to frame his face as the monster winces. "I- I could not- understand, while you spoke so- so quickly. I do not converse in this way very often."

Rilla feels the sense of shame slowly, slowly bleed away, replaced by curiosity. "How do you… usually converse?" she asks, and Arum scowls.

"Monstrously," he says with a sneer, but when she only purses her lips at him he sighs. "I and my- my parent, as you would call it, do not need spoken words to communicate. They are merely … one layer of how we converse. It sings, and I sing, or speak, and we feel each other's intent," he explains, sticking his snout in the air. "It is far more efficient and accurate than a simple verbal exchange."

"Huh," Rilla says, furrowing her brow. "Huh, that's- I mean, Saints, yeah, that… that sounds like it would be nice." She pauses, frowning at her hands. "It'd be… It'd be nice if there was someone who always knew exactly what I meant."

After a moment, Rilla raises her eyes again. She expected Arum to have some sort of response to that, honestly. Seems like the sort of thing he'd leap at the chance to boast about, but- well, he looks distracted now, deep in thought. He seems to feel her attention, though, and he shakes his head.

"It is… nice, I suppose," he agrees, his tone a little begrudging. "It is difficult… difficult to imagine not having such. I suppose it must make it harder for you and yours to understand each other," he muses, "though, I suppose that you do still sing together."

Rilla blinks. "How… do you know that?"

Arum's eyes widen, and then he looks to the side, shrugging. "You were singing when I first found you," he says quickly, unconvincingly. "I simply- assumed."

"You've… you've been watching me?" she says, her tone rising, and Arum winces. "You've been watching my family?" She isn't even sure- she can't say if that idea bothers her, exactly, though it probably should-

"I- of course n-" Arum's eyes flick anxiously among the trees, and then his frill presses flat against his neck and his expression curls into a scowl as he looks her dead in the eyes again. "You are on my lands," he says, more sharply. "You are trespassers, not guests, so you may hardly complain when you are observed by those who are actually meant to be here. To live here."

Rilla opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. "Well- yeah, I guess that makes- sense. I just- I was surprised, I guess."

Arum blinks, and then his scowl goes even more furious. "Don't pretend to be- to be magnanimous about it, little creature, I saw the look in your eyes, I saw what you were thinking."

"I was surprised," Rilla says again. "And- and I didn't think you'd want to hear me sing. Most of the other kids don't."

Arum snaps his teeth together, a thin hiss slipping between them, and then he looks away again. "I- I didn't say that," he grumbles. "And- and I am not some other kid. I am a monster."

The word kid sounds- strange in his inhuman voice. Almost silly. She buries a laugh, mostly because she thinks that would probably make him even more grumpy. "I-" she starts, and then she cuts herself off as a thought occurs. "Huh. I had just been assuming … you are a young monster, though, aren't you? You're not just- small?"

Arum's eyes flash, and Rilla- Rilla can see for a moment that he's considering- something. Lying, maybe? And then he glances away again.

"I am the… new Lord of the Swamp," he mutters, begrudgingly. "But I am not a child. And I am not a hatchling anymore, either."

Rilla bites her tongue to stifle her curiosity at the distinction, but when she opens her mouth to respond, Arum interrupts.

"And I am not small," he snaps, a raspy growl in his throat. "I am precisely the size I am meant to be at the moment, and it is hardly my fault if other creatures feel the need to be so unnecessarily large."

Rilla can't help the laugh, this time, and it seems to derail Arum from his ranting. He stares at her as she presses a hand over her lips, and then he ducks his head, looking at her sulkily.

"You… do that rather a lot, don't you?"

"What," she asks through her fingers, "laugh?"

"Indeed. Do you find everything quite so amusing, then?"

Rilla tries not to feel- that stab of mortification again. She bites her lip, and the monster shakes his head.

"Don't-" he stumbles, winces, and then tries again. "I'm not demanding you stop. It was simply an observation and a question. Nothing more than that."

It's unexpected, honestly, that he would catch her reaction that quickly, and she nods more out of surprise than anything. "I just- laugh when I'm happy? Or- when I'm surprised sometimes."

He tilts his head. "Hm."

"You… you don't seem to laugh that much," she says, hoping that it just sounds like an observation in kind and not like a judgment.

"Hm," Arum says again, and then he looks down at the journal still in his hands, at the wavering lines of his sketches beside her own neater, less accurate ones. "No, I suppose I don't."

#elle's fanfic #the penumbra podcast #second citadel #rad bouquet #lizard kissin' tuesday #lord arum #amaryllis of exile #the keep #made a garden #bouquet childhood friends au

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gay-slabies · 4 years

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mod & character introductions!!

Hello, and welcome to our Countryhuman’s Ask Blog! This blog is one in which the mods (and there are eight of us) each have certain characters who we will write and draw for, meaning that asks geared towards certain characters will also be geared towards certain mods! The vague plot is that the characters all live together in one big house and just sort of vibe... This isn’t supposed to get too serious, y’know!

Below the cut are everyone’s intros! Make sure to read them, because we all worked hard to get this blog up and running and we would like to be able to meet you all! The nicknames come from our Discord server, by the way, in case you were wondering about the oddity.

The blog also only follows any of the mods who have a Tumblr, so check the Following list if you want to talk with us one-on-one!!

hi im cursed and im the person who cant draw for shit because i hvae to laptop with mousepad. Well ma'am, the lab results came back and This is hard to say but Your son tested highly on our simp scale Oh goodness gracious But doctor, what does it even mean to be a simp? Well son, allow me to explain- (Nacho: Cursed has America, Mexico, and Australia)

Hey, I’m Mango! As listed in the description, my pronouns are she/her. My acc is @strangled-mangoes if you have any personal questions :). The countries I’m doing are Estonia and Spain. Estonia is very chaotic,, shorts in the snow, crocs with socks... you know that guy I’m talking about. The “It’s not even that cold” guy,, him. (The poison. The poison for kuzco. The poison chosen especially to kill kuzco. Kuzco’s poison). Now Spain... he’s a little different. Okay, a lot different. He’s basically an ex-homophobe turned gay and is now protesting for trans rights. Sorry if that’s a little confusing, I’m bad at summarizing things haha

Hello!! I’m Moderator Nacho, the father of these hellchildren! I am Exe’s husband, but don’t let father and husband disallude you- I am biologically and mentally female uwu. Yes I use uwu. Call me a furry all you want. Your words are like bites from a baby that hasn’t grown teeth yet. Disgusting and harmless. ANYWHO, I am one who tends to go off on a tangent, but can still structure out a plot, as well as being more than willing to give people Big Answers to their asks!!!! Also... apparently I apologize too much. Besides all of that, the countries I will be answering asks for are as follows: Lithuania, The United Arab Emirates, China, Northern Native America, and Russia. If I misrepresent a country in a way you don’t agree with, then feel free to tell me! I will gladly listen and take what you say into account, especially if you are ethnically or religiously knowledgable on the country. My Lithuania... is a bit of a bitch, plain and simple, but it’s kinda valid, since he is Very Old. My UAE is a difficult bow to unravel- He’s very bigoted towards anything LGBT+, but Something happens to change that :). My China is non-binary and like 4000 years old... He’ll fuck anything that moves if he can convince it into bed, but he is also very formal and polite when he wants to be. My Native America is actually just the northern half, and she is... chaotic, to say the least. My Russia? Himbo. That’s all I need to say. He’s the very definition of a himbo. Look up himbo in the dictionary and it’s just a page full of pictures of Russia.

Hi yes hello, I'm Satan, and I say trans rights. I'm the only irish lad with these lads, and you already know my pronouns, they/them. I'll be doing Russian Empire and The Soviet Union, R.E has much inner homophobia, and Sov tries (and fails) to be badass. You cant run from being fluffy. And I'm also ace, and into girls uwu.(my least favourite skittle is purple)

Greetings all, I’m Mod Exe. You could also just go to call me the German-Soviet, young kinda boomer mother of like; 15 kids with a cat and a she/her husband. My pronouns are they/them with the occasional she/her mixed in. I’m tryna figure stuff out. I’m one out of three European Mods (Mod Satan and Mod Corn)! I might misspell stuff because out of all these freaks here, I’m the only one whose first language is not English. I apologize in advance. The countries I will doodle and answer asks from are West Germany, Third Reich, German Empire (Second Reich) and The Weimar Republic. My headcanons for them might be weird but hey, isn’t that literally all of us? That’s all I wanted to say already! Sincerely, Exe.

Hehejehehhehe Mod Void here! I’m your local otaku who knows absolutely almost nothing about the outside world, and is also Canasain. I draw a lot, and if you want to check out my underdeveloped and only just started ‘art’ blog, it’s @bluevoid27 . As stated in the description, She/Her pronouns! I’m also in charge of these beans: Antarctica, Greenland, Canada, Philippines, and Martial. My take on these characters may be a bit different from the most popular versions. Antarctica is still bean, but is presumably hiding a less pure version. Greenland is well, kind of overprotective of Antarctica, but is still a nice child who’s also NB. Canada is probably the one who’s been altered the most, let me tell ya, in Canada, we aren’t as nice as the stereotypes, so this version is a bit more reckless, still loves syrup, and has some sort of trouble showing he’s sorry (wow what a surprise!). Philippines is your classic Pinoy, karaoke master, hopeless jokester, and just a carefree dude in general. Martial is your angry Pinoy, with threats like “Gusto mo palo?” while holding up a sandal. He still resembles somewhat of his brother, but is way more aggressive and rough on the edges. Salutations, I’m Moderator Discord (no, not MLP, but the actual Apphuman)! As stated in the description, my pronouns are they/them/she/her (although I prefer they/them the majority of the time). I know way too many memes and vines for my own good, and I also have rather unusual headcanons! My account is @statehumans-maryland in case you have any personal questions, and the Countryhumans I will be doing are East Germany, South Korea, and Poland! • East Germany is a soft boi who loves his sister, West Germany, and h̶a̶s̶ ̶a̶ ̶b̶i̶g̶ ̶f̶a̶t̶ ̶c̶r̶u̶s̶h̶ ̶o̶n̶ likes his best friend, Poland! He is basically one of the most innocent and wholesome people you will find on this planet — plus, he’s a farmer’s boy, so that’s neat! • South Korea is someone who is rather worn down from the shenanigans with his brother (North Korea) causing all sorts of trouble and not exactly having the relationship with him, but he’s overall a very cheerful person (though he does well at concealing his inner turmoil) who is generally friendly with others and more than willing to take responsibility for his brother’s actions, as well as deal with the consequences for such actions (even though it’s very unjustified and unnecessary). He also has a polyamorous relationship with Martial Law and Japan. • Poland is the epitome of a gentleman and will never hesitate to correct himself should he make the slightest of what he perceives as “mistakes” in his mannerisms (though he’s very slowly slipping out of it because c’mon, this is 2020, ain’t nobody got time for formalities). Overall, he is a very good friend to have, has a fair bit of anxiety, and h̶a̶s̶ ̶d̶e̶e̶p̶ ̶f̶e̶e̶l̶i̶n̶g̶s̶ ̶f̶o̶r̶ ̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶e̶s̶t̶ ̶f̶r̶i̶e̶n̶d̶ is very close friends with East Germany.

Mod Corn is currently busy, but has given us permission to add their intro later, so look for that!

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headfullofstories · 4 years

Text

Truly Monstrous Luck - part 4

After half an hour or so of sitting alone in the dark, I decide to go out and explore some more. I put my journal in my backpack and fish out my binder, taking off my shirt quickly to slip it on over my head before throwing the shirt back on. I decide to leave my bag here, lock my room behind me and walk as quietly as I can down the hall of rooms. There are a few other people milling about, most walking the opposite direction, most of them giving me odd looks as I pass by. I keep my head down and let my feet carry me through the winding corridors.

Eventually I find myself back in the greenhouse, moonlight spilling in through the glass ceiling, shifting and shimmering through a layer of water blocking this place from the rest of the world - is this Turtle Pond? Or some other body of water?

The butterflies are all asleep, but now lightning bugs populate the air. They hover in the air effortlessly, tiny stars filling the great big space of the greenhouse. They start to float around me as I walk in and take a spot over by a pond full of lily pads and lotus blossoms. I sit there for a few minutes, examining the greenery floating on the water, when I hear a voice behind me say, “Damn, I’m usually the only one in here this early.”

I jump several feet to the side, turning to see who just spoke. A girl with moss in her hair and piercing orange eyes stands in the doorway. She walks over to me, and I see that her feet are bare and covered in vines and greenery, decked out in dirt covered overalls and a light blue t-shirt. She studies my face for a moment, crouching down so we’re eye to eye. My breathing is shaky and erratic as I try my best to calm myself down and slow my heart rate down. Her eyes narrow as she takes in all of the details of my face. I chew on my lower lip nervously, hoping to ground myself a little more. After looking at my face for about 10 seconds, her eyes wander down towards my neck and land on the bite mark imprinted in my skin. As soon as I register this, my hand flies up to cover the mark as her eyes widen.

“You’re a new vampire.” She remarks. “Been almost a year since we’ve had one of you here.”

I give a shaky nod and slowly uncover the bite mark again, sitting up straight as she backs away. “I’ve had a really bad 24 hours.” I mutter as I begin to fidget, hitting the heels of my hands together. “Being in here has made me feel a lot better. I was in here earlier and I ended up getting covered in butterflies.”

She gives a slow nod. “Well, if the insects all like you this much, I guess I can trust you.” She reaches out a hand, “my name is Calla. Resident dryad.”

I grab her hand, which is rough and covered in calluses. “I’m Victor.”

“Well, Victor, do you have any interest in magic?”

“Magic?” I echo, and all of the air is suddenly pulled from my lungs. “What… what kind?”

“Depends on where you get your magic from.” She responds. “You seem to have a real affinity for nature, have you ever had any interest in druidic magics?”

“C-can I even… channel nature magic? I’m not… alive anymore.” I ask, fidgeting getting slowly worse. “Do you need to be alive to use life magic?”

She thinks about it for a moment, shifting to a sitting position. “I don’t think so. I’ve never met a druidic vampire, but you seem to have a strong connection with this place.”

I manage to largely control the fidgeting, but my eyes wander to the lightning bugs floating in the air. “I think… I’d like that.”

“Great!” She smiles, “You probably have stuff going on today, being new and all, but I’m here most nights if you want to talk.”

I give her a thumbs up, then get up and start to walk around looking at all of the different planter boxes.

As morning light starts creeping through the glass ceiling, an hour or so after the lightning bugs have settled back into their hiding places, and Calla has located herself up at the top of a cherry tree and is currently browsing her phone, Arthur ducks his head in through the doorway.

“Hey Victor, you free?” He inquires, “Yvonne said you were probably in here.”

I nod and pull myself to my feet. I turn and wave good-bye to Calla, who gives me a 2 finger salute in return, then run over to where Arthur is waiting in the doorway.

“No backpack?” He asks, and I shake my head.

“No, I came down here at 3AM. Didn’t think I’d need it.”

“Jesus kid, did you even sleep last night? You still need to sleep, yknow.”

“Yeah, I fell asleep at like, 7:30 or something yesterday.” I assure him. “I woke up at 2:30 and got restless after a little bit.”

“Thats… actually more sleep than I usually get. Good job, kid.” He remarks, lightly patting me on the head a couple of times. I smile at that.

We set off down a new set of hallways, away from where I’ve mainly been until now. There are more people down this way, and most of them don’t even bat an eye when they see me. I’m glad that they’re not staring like everyone else I’ve met so far, but the number of people in the enclosed space of the hallway makes me a little nervous. Most of the people are a lot taller than me, too, and some of them look like they could snap me in half like a twig. I stay close behind Arthur, trying to take up as little space as possible.

We walk for a few minutes, the floor slowly sloping upward, before stopping in front of a room labelled “Office.” We walk in and Arthur gestures for me to stay put by the door as he goes up to talk to a man with ram’s horns and lavender eyes sitting at a messy wooden desk. They talk for a moment before Arthur turns, waves me over, and starts down a short hallway going deeper into the office. The layout of this area reminds me of the offices at all of my old schools, and I don’t know if I like that… at all.

“You good?” Arthur asks, turning around to face me. I shift in place for a moment, before looking at him and giving him an uneasy shrug.

“This place has the same layout as my old school offices.” I mutter. “It’s making me a little nervous.”

He nods sympathetically. “This place is a lot better than a school office. They actually care about you here, and the lady who schedules all of the gender confirmation surgeries has her office in here.”

My eyes go wide. “We-we’re already scheduling that?” I gasp, starting to hit the heels of my hands together excitedly.

“Well, why would we put it off if we could schedule it now?” He smiles. “Besides, the faster we get this scheduled, the earlier your appointment will be, and the less likely you’ll be to fuck up your ribs by binding too long.”

I might actually start crying right now. My vision goes out of focus for a moment, and I start bouncing on the balls of my feet.

“Uh, kid?” He asks, a nervous lilt to his voice.

I look straight into his eyes, smile creeping across my face. “I’m just… so fucking excited about this.”

His expression softens, and he gives me a nod. “Being a vampire kinda sucks ass. Dysphoria sucks even more ass. There’s no cure for vampirism, but if you get rid of the parts of you that make you dysphoric, it makes immortality a little more bearable.”

We stand out in the hallway for a few minutes before a woman pokes her head out of the office in front of us. Her eyes are the color of fire and her ears are long and pointed. She has long white hair and pale skin - not vampire pale, but pale enough to be odd.

“Arthur, good to see you.” She says in an unnervingly calm voice, then looks over to me and smiles. “Who is this young man?”

“This is Victor. He’s new.” He sighs. “We’re looking at getting him in with the top surgeon over at Moonlight.”

“Excellent!” She exclaims, “Why don’t you come in and sit down?”

Arthur heads in first and I follow close behind him, nervous of this new person; she gives me really bad vibes.

The office is clean and smells like rubbing alcohol; it makes my head hurt a little. There’s a pair of cushioned wooden chairs on one side and a spinning desk chair on the other. Everything is organized - the macbook, paperclip box, and pencil container sitting on the desk look like they were aligned with the edge of the desk with a right-angle ruler, and the mesh waste paper bin is empty. The entire energy of the room makes me deeply uncomfortable.

As soon as I sit down I pull my legs up into a criss-cross, and the woman grimaces a little, though she says nothing. I start tapping my fingers against my legs, and I have a hard time focusing on any one thing in the room.

The woman clears her throat as she begins to talk, "So, Victor, you're interested in top surgery?"

My focus snaps to her immediately and I nod my head vigorously. "Very much so. The… thought alone of people seeing my chest makes me nauseous and just… having them makes me really uncomfortable."

She nods, and opens up her laptop. "And… how old are you?"

"Twenty."

"Do you have any legal documents? An ID?"

I shake my head. "My wallet got stolen yesterday, and I didn't have a driver's license or a social security or health insurance card or anything like that anyways."

"And that answers my third question." She mutters as she types. "And… you are a vampire, correct? When were you turned?"

"Yesterday." I mutter, "at 10:30AM or so, I think."

She continues to type for a few more moments, then starts to mutter under her breath before speaking again.

"Okay, Victor, the soonest appointment I see here is September 15th. Does that work for you?"

My eyes go wide. "That's… that's only 3 months away."

She nods, and repeats the question. "Does that day work for you?"

I nod vigorously again. "I don't have any prior obligations anymore."

"Excellent!" She smiles, types a little more, and closes her laptop again. "Victor, you are all sorted. It was good to see you again, Arthur. Make sure you're remembering to take care of yourself."

"I will." He sighs, and stands up. "Well, if that's all, Victor, you were going to see your brother today if I remember correctly."

I nod, and quickly get up to follow him as he heads out the door.

"That was Eleanor." He says once we leave. "She takes care of all of the medical expenses and legal stuff around that.”

“I don’t really like her.” I remark. “She reminds me of the therapist my parents sent me to when I was 14. She said I was a crazy little girl and that I’d never be able to function at a normal capacity, but refused to give me any diagnoses.”

He gives a sympathetic nod. “Well, Eleanor’s really nice - she takes a little while to warm up to new people, but she’s a good person.”

“That’s nice to know.” I mutter. “I just hope I don’t end up being an exception to that niceness. That happens to me a lot.”

He lets out a deep sigh at that. “Some people just attract misfortune. And it fucking sucks when you’re one of those people.”

“There are people that have it a lot worse than me.” I argue. “I had a perfectly fine life and the access, money, and ability to take testosterone and wear a binder.”

“Kid, yesterday you were unemployed, homeless, and had no money, not to mention that you were effectively murdered.” He points out. “That sounds fucking horrible, and your suffering shouldn’t be discounted because other people ‘have it worse’ than you.”

“I wasn’t homeless. I got evicted, but I could’ve just stayed with my brother. And I called my bank to cancel the card that got stolen, so technically I’m not broke, I just… don’t have access to my money right now.”

“I don’t care how much you try to belittle your struggles, Victor, I’m not changing my mind.”

“I… well, you’re not changing my mind, either.” I grumble.

“We’ll see.” He mutters. “I can be very persuasive.”

#original story #spooky monsters n shit #one (1) self deprecating boy

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