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iwishf1wasreal · 6 months

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F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✷ Lewis Hamilton ✷

smut ✷ 18+ readers only

I. Flirt. He’s a shy sort of suave. He wants to come off cool and laid back. Thank God he never has to worry if he’s dressed well. Lewis is all about eye contact, making sure to look over the frame of whatever sunglasses he’s wearing so he can hold your gaze. It’ll be hard for him to look away; maybe he’ll keep your eyes for as long as he can by looking back or walking backward. He’ll flash his million-dollar smile at you; make sure you know he’s noticed you too. If there are cameras around, he’s pretty much going to stand 40 feet away from you, but if it’s amongst the trusted inner circle or just the two of you, he is stuck to you like glue. When you first meet, he’s flirty in a relaxed sense; it won’t come across as him being particularly interested, just friendly. He takes his time sussing you out and getting a feel for you. But once he’s ready to make his intentions known, he’s laying on the charm. Making you laugh, taking any excuse to brush against you. II. Propositioning. Warm hands caressing down your back, spending a generous amount of time on your ass before smoothing down your calves. He’ll peck kisses anywhere he can reach, his endless brown eyes meeting yours as his lips roam your body. Lewis wants to seduce and be seduced. He likes kissing–[loves] kissing. Has a hard time having sex [without] kissing. He wants your tongue hot and heavy in his mouth. Lewis likes to tease too. If the mood strikes and you start to put the moves on him, he'll play dumb. Straight up pretends not to notice, wait and see how far you’ll go before you push him down onto the sofa and straddle him.

III. Libido. It’s relatively high, but he’s also creeping up to his forties. Don’t get me wrong, he has no trouble getting (or maintaining) an erection, but it takes him a bit longer to get him up and ready…especially if it’s a night after drinking. So, he doesn’t mind a bit of soft play, whether it's your mouth or the soft glide of your hand. He’s not too picky. He feels so much closer to his partner during and after sex. Lewis feels like there’s no other connection in the world like it and would probably even be down to try sex magic if you were into that kind of thing.

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty. Tame: Expensive clothes. When you hold him close to whisper in his ear. Laughing with your head thrown back. A nice fitting pair of trousers. Pretty, fast cars. Private beaches and cabanas. Outdoor showers. Spoiling you. Facetime calls to show him what you’re wearing. Getting along with his mum and step-mum. Having inside jokes with his brother. Fitting right into a game of footy with his nieces and nephews. Musicality in any way, shape, or form. Shy silliness that he gets to draw out of you. Diamonds on bare skin. Nasty: When he fucks you so good you can’t even get out a moan, and it looks like you’re having a sexy exorcism. Pulling your panties to the side instead of just pulling them off. Lowkey always wants to get caught; fucks you with the windows of your cabana wide open, or herds you into the single stall. Tender love and care to his balls. When you tell him that his dick is the best you’ve ever had. Receiving unsolicited your nudes. Mutual masturbation. Lingerie sets with lace bras and satin panties. The way your ass kinda makes a heart-shape in certain positions of doggy. Titties in his mouth. Topless beaches with wandering hands. V. Self-stimulation. Ideally, he would be able to Facetime you, and you could figure out a solution together. He'll use a video if the timezone doesn’t permit that, and he’s not desperate enough to wake you or disturb you at work. He can still appreciate porn, but if he wants to finish, he’d prefer to do it to you. VI. Foreplay. He almost pays too much attention to foreplay. It’s like he’s in some kind of competition with himself to see how wet he can make you before he finally slips inside. As he’s come into adulthood, he’s realised how powerful the act of cunnilingus is. He has his own version of getting drunk off your sex, usually in the form of semi-incoherent philosophical babbles of how we’re all connected and how beautiful your pussy is.

VII. Rhythm. He likes to keep it fresh but prefers deep, unhurried sex. Taking your time getting to know each other and savouring the feeling of the two of you together. He’s not afraid to moan or let his nastiest thoughts roll off his tongue. Most often he’ll be asking how it feels, for you to be louder. He likes egging you on. VIII. How He Likes It He’s a classic man. Doggy has a special place in his heart. He likes plenty of other positions, too, of course. But there’s just something about getting to watch your ass shake as he disappears inside you. You bent over, wet and moaning and rutting back against him. Rarely do you get to feel like you have the upper hand on him–he’s got lightning fast reflexes, strength and confidence that often make you feel like he’s not even real. Except in the bedroom and he has your front pressed into the bed and you start to work to throw your hips back to meet his thrusts. He nearly busts right then and there every time.

IX. Location, location, location. A hopeless romantic, ideally, he’d have rose petals all over the floor and candles littering the entire place. But that’s not always feasible, though he still tells you it’s what you deserve. And though he’d deny it, ducking his head to hide the burning on his cheeks but the hot tub seems to hold a special place in his heart. To the point where his buddies will point and giggle at it the second you’re aboard a yacht for the week or they notice it on the balcony through the curtains. Somehow, they always seem to be one on your holidays or hotel rooms. And you both do you best to use it to the best of your abilities. X. Kinky. He’s open minded and easy to approach. He likes experimenting when he feels safe and he feels safest with you. Depending on the mood, he can be gently encouraging, complimenting and worshipping you into bliss. Or, he can be a little more demanding, a little less lenient and a little more mean. He’s good at playing. He likes playing…as long as you seem like you are too. Any fantasy you feel like trying, he’s all ears. Rarely will he outright deny you–about most things–especially sex.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys He’s not stupid, obviously you use toys whilst he’s away or busy. He doesn’t mind adding them in with the both of you either. It really only took one time for him to watch your eyes roll back in your head after just two minutes on the second to highest setting. Lately, his latest exploration in the bedroom has involved plugs. Nothing gets his heart pumping blood to his crotch quite like when you bend over and reveal you’ve decided to surprise him with one. Something about the shimmer of something in your ass while he sheeths himself deep inside you feels like ecstasy.

XII. Cum. He can go for a while. He’s old enough where he doesn't need to lay back and think of England. He would prefer to finish after you though with the ferocity of your sex life, it’s quite literally always a competition to get others to cum first. Ideally, he’d finish inside of you but obviously sometimes that’s not always fisable. Though, more than enough times have you two snuck off for a quickie and you’re left uncomfortably wet in your panties after.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation. Lewis loves to go down on you. Likes hearing all your moans and whines and any other noise he can get you to make. When his focus is on you and getting you to cum, he turns into an assertive yet gentle figure. He has plans for you, he’d like for you to follow them. But he’s not above giving into your desperation or gently teasing you for how worked up you get. He can teeter more towards mean when he feels like it though rarely can keep it up. By the time you’ve finished, he’s melted back into his true self. Making sure you’re not too far gone or nothing got too out of hand. Despite it all though, he makes you feel like he’s hungry for you. Like just the site of you or your body could drive him wild enough to cloud all his thoughts.

XIV. Bonus.

“I wanna show you something,” Lewis tells you, head down with his eyes focused on his phone. You approach him in the living room but don't make it to him before the TV on the wall above him blinks on. It shows the generic home display before it goes black again. But it's only for a moment. Then, a grainy, night vision video starts to play.

It takes you a moment to realise what is. It’s not until you hear the video playback what sounds like Lewis’ laugh. On screen, now in clear view of the camera, you dragged Lewis to one of the outdoor sofas. Suddenly, you recognize everything in the video.

It from the boat trip you took a few weeks ago, traipsing around Greece with some friends before Lewis had to get back in race mode for the foreseeable future. It was late, all your friends had gone to bed and the crew had been tipped heavily to give you some privacy on deck.

You’re standing there watching yourself, watching your mouth meet his and moan in pleasure. In person, you don’t realise he’s even standing behind you until a gentle hand on your middle startles you out of your gaze.

“You remember that?” he asks softly, with a small nod towards the TV. You nod, letting out a distracted ‘mmhmm’ as you keep your eyes on the screen. His other hand meets your other side, palms softly caressing against the t-shirt you wore.

Back on the boat, you had already pulled Lewis free from the confines of his joggers. You were on the floor, on your knees. Even with the state of the art speakers Lewis had installed, you can’t make out what he’s saying to you on video. Just the soft rasp of his voice as he eggs you on.

“How did you get this?” you ask, your throat dry. You had taken him into your mouth on the boat, Lewis throwing his head back in pleasure on screen. It was nice to see him–actually see what he looked like while you gave him head. Up close was one thing, but watching the effect you had on him has your insides somersaulting.

“I told you I’d have them get rid of the footage.”

Neither of you were stupid. You both knew something as risky as this would require some damage control but Lewis promised you he’d take care of it.

“Yes, but how do you have it?” you gulp after a particularly loud moan vibrates off the screen.

Lewis doesn’t answer you, just laughs softly as he moves to start placing kisses on your neck. His hands move from your waist, roaming over your arms, then your shoulders. The roughness of his skin against the softness of your skin feels euphoric. But he stops the motion all too soon, one his hands clasping over each of your wrists. In front of you, your past self is already mounting your boyfriend, his hands eager to expose your breasts from the bikini you were wearing.

Loud, lewd sounds fill the room, echoing off the TV and bathing the both of you in a symphony of your own moans. You can feel Lewis’ breath against your neck, his hands still holding your wrists. You watch as his hand slipped over your core, pads of his fingers finding the perfect spot to send you over the edge. The sight of it makes you hotter, your skin starting to feel clammy and stomach somersaulting. Instinctively, you lean further back into Lewis, trying to instinctually rut yourself against him for some kind of relief.

But he’s not taking any of it. Just tightens his grip on your wrists and moves so you can’t roll your hips back against him.

The sounds on the TV get loud. You can hear the sound of your bodies meeting amongst the huffs and moans. It doesn’t matter how much you beg, how pathetically you mewl at Lewis to let you do something. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t even really let you look at him. At best you can get is the cocky smirk and devious gleam in his eyes before he’s gathering both your wrists in one hand and fixing your gaze ahead by your chin.

Your heart feels like its beating out of your chest. Your skin is sticking to your clothes, working up a sweat from how hot you feel underneath your clothes. Lewis makes you watch the whole thing like that. Forced to watch both orgasms he gave you. Forced to listen to the defeated sigh of satisfaction Lewis gives as you pulled yourself off of him. Forced to watch the glistening trail of yourselves that even the shitty security camera could pick up sliding down your leg.

You don’t even have to move to tell how wet you are once the TV finally turns off. Looking (and feeling) like you’re in a trance, Lewis chuckles proudly and presses a kiss to your hair.

“Now, go upstairs. Take all your clothes off. And wait for me.” He says, pressing one more kiss to your temple. He pulls away just a touch so he can look you in the eyes. “But do not touch yourself.” He taps his pointer finger to the tip of your nose and pats your ass as your single to get moving.

You do as you're told and head upstairs. Meanwhile, Lewis gets working on some drinks for the pair of you. He only gets as far as pulling his mock-Tequilas from the cabinet before he hears what at first sounds like your phone going off. But the buzzing he hears through the upstairs floor doesn’t stop. He freezes in place to listen. The buzzing keeps going, far longer than any ringtone would.

As soon as he realises what you’re doing, he drops what he’s doing and makes a break for the stairs. You can hear him calling your name through the bedroom door as he takes them to at a time to get to you.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1blr #lewis writers are very good pls dont hate me if its bad thank u

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an-android-in-a-tutu · 11 days

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Romancing the Exit Sign

Art: @nickelkeep

Writing: @an-android-in-a-tutu

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Other Tags: Alternate Universe, Eldritch Horror, Cults, Gore, Suicidal Ideation, Mystery

Summary: A teenage boy is left to die in a shallow grave and something slithers into his bones. Devotees of an ancient god work to bring Her into the world, as with equivalent fanaticism, a man on a mission picks them off one by one. A lonesome drifter crosses paths with a mysterious stranger and finds himself inexorably drawn into the middle of it all.

Dean Winchester is adrift. All he has is his car, the next hunt, and a conversation he doesn't want to have waiting for him in California. Then a case involving mangled bodies washing up on shore in an idyllic lakeside community puts him on the trail of a man calling himself Castiel, and the dangerous web he's entangled in. Dean is used to living in a world of monsters, but the End of Days is a little out of his wheelhouse. Especially when his only ally is determined to keep his secrets behind his teeth, even as they draw closer together. Still, he intends to see things through, no matter how dark the path ahead gets.

It's either that, or call his brother.

Excerpt:

The smell of rot was stronger here, flies buzzing away over what looked to be the remains of animals, shunted into the corners, bones and bits of fur and unidentifiable red mush. The walls were covered with scrawls, symbols and pictures painted in something dark and shiny, and pools of wax melted around stubs of burnt out candles littered the room. The centerpiece, though, was the massive pool of blood that had soaked into the decaying floorboards, half obscuring the scrawl of a magic circle underneath, five points of a star, each adorned with a tool of the trade: an offering bowl filled with lumpy ash, an incense holder, a dull copper coloured knife, a bundle of herbs and feathers, and a black crystal.

“Guess it was a gateway drug after all,” he muttered, stepping forward and tracing the script that filled the circle with his eyes. He couldn’t identify it, but he didn’t have to be a scholar to figure whatever it was was major bad juju.

Cas stood with his back to all of it, staring at the symbols on the wall across from the door.

“Looks like we found the right place,” Dean said wryly. “Good call, Cas.”

Cas didn’t answer, stayed facing the wall. Something about the line of his back set Dean ill at ease.

“Hey-” He took another step forward.

Something whispered in his ear.

Dean whirled, staring into the empty space behind him, his hand coming up to his neck where he could have sworn he’d felt someone’s breath.

“What the hell-” He took two steps back, away from the open door, jumping when his foot collided with the offering bowl, knocking it over with a clatter that rang loud in the silence.

No, not silence. There was whispering, still. Constant, so quiet as to be indistinct, but if Dean strained his ears he could just hear it.

“Cas?” He called out, shaky. “Do you hear…”

His voice died in his throat as he turned and caught sight of the man again, silhouetted against that strange mural, a jarring gap in the twisting symbols that seemed to draw them in, they curled towards him, writhing on the wall as the room darkened, the shadows pulling in and the whispers getting louder until he could make out the shape of words-

Come home.

Dean’s pulse pounded in his ears, a drumbeat to accompany the chant. Come home, come home, come home to me. In front of the wall of writhing shadows, Cas started to turn, and something in Dean quailed, knowing he wasn’t prepared, wasn’t ready, but stuck in place all the same by his wanting.

Come home to the Mother.

Coming in October as part of the @deancashorrorfest!

#deancashorrorfest #destiel #supernatural #spn #horror #fanfic #fanart

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markerofthemidnight · 4 months

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So, I was bored and looking around the ‘net for something to draw, when I found this awesome “draw six characters like this” template on a random Reddit post.

Anyways, even though I had to look up what almost all of these prompts were, I really liked essentially all the potential designs that could come out of them based off of my quick Google searches, so I went ahead and did it!

This whole thing took me a total of NINE HOURS, making it the longest time it’s ever taken me to finish any singular artwork. As you can see, I also finally figured out how to upload images onto canvases on ibisPaint X! THE POWER I NOW WIELD!

(basic rundown of designs under cut)

B-Side Wiggly - Most B-Side designs are basically just “the character but with a different colour scheme and a few new accessories”, at least from what I’ve seen. I don’t know why I chose Tinky’s colour scheme specifically, but I like the mix between blue and gold.

Naturally, as this is a B-Side design, I gave him a microphone for the whole�� rapping thing. I also replaced his coral crown with a dollar store paper one, turned the frown on his fur pattern upside-down, and you can’t really see it because of the pose, but he also has Wiley’s dog tag necklace.

Dark World Adam - This was the only form I didn’t look up, but mainly because I knew even if I did, I wouldn’t get much out of it. We haven’t seen enough Dark World designs to be able to see much consistency from them.

The stripes on his horns kinda looking like an Imp’s (and being pieced with jewels because if his horns were real he’d totally do that) and his wings being more demon-y was intentional, but him kinda dressing like Toriel wasn’t. I just thought his robe being dark purple with flames on the sleeves and the Delta Rune on his chest would be fitting- a complete coincidence, but a fairly fitting one nonetheless!

Tainted Tozu - This one’s kind of a bastardisation of Tainted forms, because all I did was look it up once and go, “Ah, yes. I have to make one of my favourite characters look like a character from a bad creepypasta with some shoehorned-in religious symbolism.”

Naturally, Tozu was the only fitting option for that. I gave his mask a black half to call back to his OG design, turned his fake horns into real horns, and turned the X on his cape into a real X made of blood. I also went ABSOLUTELY HARD on making his eye look as creepy as possible without overdoing it- I think I did well!

Shimmering Pomni - Now, I didn’t technically need to look this one up, but I haven’t touched Terraria in a while so I needed a recap on what exactly Shimmer forms looked like. I was surprised to see that a fair bunch of them are actually references to various other games- with that, I was left with only one option.

Gave her cape a star design on its interior… mainly because it looked good, but also because the Star Cloak exists, and no matter how subtle it was, I needed to throw some Terraria stuff in there SOMEHOW. Hence the presence of the little magical girl stars around her: no matter how much of a Deltarune reference it seems, it’s still a Shimmer design at heart.

Moonbound Mind - Looked up what exactly a Moonbound design was only to quickly see that they are ABSOLUTELY AWESOME holy fuck I love this aesthetic???

Naturally, there was noone more fitting for a Moonbound Design than… the Sun. What, did you think I’d say Heart? Gave him a nice little royal design (he’s the ruler of everything in the end~) …and I don’t know why I made that moss so sparkly, but. It looks good. I like sparkly things, alright?!

Mirror Dimension Myke - That’ll only make sense to people who have been following me for the past few months, but that’s right! Myke’s a Visitant in the Mirror Dimension! A fairly sadistic and hostile Visitant, but… hey, it’s Myke, what were you expecting?

I chose the Mirror Dimension specifically for this free space… pretty much because I wanted another excuse to talk about it. The thought process behind his design was basically just “make him look like a really cool superhero”, fitting for a defender of the truth such as himself.

The visor was inspired by Peridot from Steven Universe, what with the similar colour schemes they have, and… hey- hey Myke, THE TEMPLATE! STAY INSIDE THE TEMPLATE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

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alienguts · 1 year

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Spectacular (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Y/N needs glasses and wants Ash to help her pick some out.

Warnings: fluff, friendly teasing

Request?: No

A/N: This one goes out to my glasses wearing babes out there. I am not one which is a shame because I look good in glasses. Also, I know that it takes much longer for prescription lenses to come in but this is a magical fictional opticians where they have things instantly.

Ash had spent fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs in the optometrist waiting room, watching the rerun game show on the world’s smallest television set. He’d told Y/N multiple times that she didn’t need him to accompany her to her eye test, but she’d insisted so much that he eventually caved. He didn’t know anything about eyes except what it felt like to stand on one, and that was something he wished he didn’t know.

Eventually, Y/N came out of the exam room, the eye doctor in tow and a piece of paper in her hand. He looked up as he heard them come in and saw how her lips were pursed into a hard line.

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking between Y/N and the doctor.

“I need glasses,” she said.

Is that it? Ash thought as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, ignoring the doctor.

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world, honey,” he soothed. “I bet you’ll look cute in glasses.”

“I’m not worried about that, Ash,” Y/N said as she shrugged his arm off of her. “It’s how much they’re gonna cost. I don’t exactly have all the money in the world.”

“Oh. Well, we’ll figure something out.”

The doctor cleared his throat briefly, drawing their attention back to him.

“If you’ll both follow me, we’ll try some frames out.”

Ash had expected to spend another fifteen minutes twiddling his thumbs while Y/N tried on glasses, but it turned out that he was quite keen to help her find a good frame.

“What about these?” he asked as he held up a thin framed pair with perfectly round lenses. Y/N immediately scrunched her nose at them.

“Nah, I’d look like John Lennon in those,” she said but still took them from him. She placed the glasses on her face and took one look in the mirror before turning back to Ash.

“See?” she said. “They’re too Lennon for me.”

“I dunno, I think you look cute in them,” Ash said.

Y/N immediately turned back to the wall of frames, embarrassed by him complimenting her in a public place. She picked up a pair with square lenses and settled them on her face before turning back to Ash.

“How about these?”

“Now those are cute,” he said as he took her face in his hands and angled her chin around, as if he was trying to get a good look at her from all angles.

“I like these too,” Y/N said as she tried to suppress a laugh.

“You look like a cute librarian,” Ash said and let go of her face before kissing her gently. He felt how her face immediately heated up against his and smiled against her lips before drawing away again.

“Okay,” Y/N said, trying to not look so flustered. “These are a definite yes, I just need a spare pair.”

“You mean we gotta keep looking?” Ash whined. “Can’t you just get two of the same?”

“I could, but I want a different pair too,” she said and turned back to the wall to look at the frames again.

Ash let his eyes wander over the display and immediately pulled a random pair off the wall.

“How about these?” he asked and placed them onto his own face.

“Ugh, no,” Y/N bristled. “I’d look like a serial killer in those.”

“I guess they are a little creepy when they’re not sunglasses,” Ash said and put the frames back. “Hey, I’m gonna leave you to it, I gotta use the bathroom.”

“Oh, okay,” Y/N said. “I’ll probably be here a while so don’t rush yourself.”

Ash took his time, as Y/N had said to, coming back to the store just as she was paying. Her back was to him as she took a bag from the assistant, presumably with her new glasses inside. He took quiet steps as he crept up behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She jumped slightly when she noticed him but rested a hand on her wrist as she finished her conversation and thanked the assistant.

“Ready to go?” he asked as she turned round to face him.

He was surprised to see Y/N already wearing her new glasses: a pair with black frames and mid-sized lenses that sat perfectly on her face. They were better than any pair he would have picked for her and just made her cuter.

“Hey, you made a good choice,” he said and gently took hold of her chin to turn her face to different angles. “You suit them.”

“You think so?” Y/N said, her face warming. “I was worried you wouldn’t like them for a second.”

“You kidding?” Ash said as they left the store together. “Nah, you look cute in them.”

Y/N smiled and reached up on her tiptoes to gently kiss him. “Thank you, honey.”

“You’re welcome, poindexter.”

“Why did I have a feeling you would end up teasing me?” Y/N said with a laugh.

“You just know me so well, baby,” Ash crooned. “I could say other things to you. How about if I said you look like a sexy librarian?”

“I’ll think about that one, just don’t tease too much or you’ll get it.”

"Can't wait," he said and took her hand in his to lead her to the parking lot.

#ash williams x reader #ash williams x you #ash williams imagine #ash williams fluff #evil dead x reader #evil dead x you #evil dead imagine #evil dead fic #fluff #female reader #*my writing

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autisticandoddlyspecific · 3 months

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It's 2:40am and I just imagined a bunch of shit about Sun and Moon in the world of fuckin Hazbin Hotel of all things, specifically to build up to the dumbass ship of DCA/Alastor. So yea here are my notes.

Sun suddenly wakes up in like an alleyway or something in hell. The sound of the city – including the anguished screams, drunk arguments, and the occasional distant gunshot or explosion – overwhelms him. Sun, dazed and confused, is probably harassed by somebody lying around in that same alleyway and quickly darts off to avoid further issue. He’s immediately horrified by the grimy and gore-stained state of the streets, and decides to just keep running. Still in shock, he notices a few posters scattered about on the ground. One’s a very worn and barely legible one drawn in what used to be a fun handmade drawing of the “Happy Hotel”. He figures based off the name and the art that it might be in a cleaner state than his current location. He finds his way to the hotel, noticing it’s new name, “Hazbin Hotel”. He wonders for a bit if they went under some kind of rebrand, and if this change means it isn’t the happy place he was hoping for, but he decides to knock anyway just to see. He’s greeted by Charlie, who welcomes him in.

At some point, he gets a moment to sit down, and starts coming out of shock. Probably whilst talking with Charlie. He starts to break down, crying he doesn’t know where he is or how he got here. He learns he’s in hell fairly quickly, and is unsure as to why. Does that mean he has a soul? Upon being asked, he simply answers that he is not human, that he never was. Just created as a theater robot, then a daycare attendant, and suddenly he was here with no warning. Charlie takes compassion on him in his distressed state, and assures him that the hotel is safe, and he is welcome, soul or not. Based off what we see in the end of the first season of the show, Lucifer probably lives at least part time in the hotel to be part of his daughter’s life and all, so it could be this soon that Lucifer is prompted to take a look at Sun, revealing a sort of soul, not quite like the human souls or the smaller sparks of life in beings such as Razzle and Dazzle(r.i.p). Also it’s a sort of dual-soul thing going on where it’s like two cells not quite done with cytokinesis. Sun isn’t sure yet that he’s okay with people knowing about Moon, so he doesn't give that away. The exact moment is pretty flexible and I could also hc that Charlie possesses the same ability so it doesn’t really matter if Lucifer actually stays there lol.

Sun gets along with Charlie, and is given a room despite his insistence that he doesnt need to sleep. She’s all like “You still need a place to yourself to relax!” so he relents. He’s pretty amazed at having his own fully furnished room. Even in its best state, Sun and Moon’s room in the ‘plex was just storage basically. Boxes.

I also imagine that he’d clash a little with Niffty, as they both have their own ideas of how things should be done to keep an establishment in working order, and neither likes their work being interfered with. Sun is also both disturbed and disgruntled at the fact that Niffty hunts down bugs with needles, intending to stab them, rather than use anything like bug traps or poisons.

Even more, Sun’s put off by Alastor, as he literally cannot look at him with his robotic eyes without visual distortion and glitches. At some point he’s gonna ask if Alastor can make it stop and he will, but I don’t know how long that’d take.

Before long, some unexpected event occurs, and the lights go out. Until this, he’d never been in any area too dark. He’s in some room alone at this time, and someone hears odd noises or something and either checks on him or just runs into Moon. Moon is immediately ready to fuck shit up, and unable to think clearly. He causes some drama and mild property damage, but fails to seriously hurt anyone before being trapped by at least one of the powerful magic users in the building. Charlie probably summons a light source, which upon realizing Moon reacts negatively to, brightens it enough to bring Sun out. Sun is probably nearly inconsolable and at least half-expects to be thrown our or decommissioned for what just happened, and Charlie asserts she wouldn’t, immediately understanding that Sun is suffering and unable to control what happens when it's dark, and offers to help. During this conversation, Sun either intentionally or accidentally lets it slip that something is wrong with Moon, and that he isn’t supposed to be like this.

This is the latest possible moment the existence of some sort of soul-like essence in Sun and Moon can be discovered, as Charlie asks to see what’s inside them to make Moon act this way. Sun is hesitant, as it requires turning off the lights to get a good look, but is assured by those present that now that they’re not being caught off guard and already have their weapons/magic at the ready that they will be able to handle it. Sun also needs to be reminded that Charlie genuinely wants and likes to help people, and Sun is gonna be a little caught off guard by being indirectly referred to as a person. He probably hugs Charlie, and asks her to be careful. Moon is like a rabid animal, but ultimately helpless with Alastor there, keeping him in like a barrier or whatever. Charlie examines the infection on Moon’s half of the dual-soul thing, and Vaggie and Angel taunt Moon with anything that triggers more aggression to make the infection more apparent/distinct and easy to remove without collateral damage. Vaggie just points her spear more aggressively at Moon, awkwardly shouting that she’ll hurt him and other people, and Angel goes like “OoOoOh I have a gun! And drugs!” Which sets moon tf off. "And sex toys!" and Moon isn’t having it and does more rabid animatronic shit which is funny as hell tbh, and was the intended effect. Charlie starts separating the infection from Moon, causing him to screech, flail around like that slug that touched the salt in that one tiktok, and claw at his face before going still. His red eyes fade as he goes quiet, before his hands slowly twitch, and his eyes light up blue.

Moon is free from the parasite in his head, and falls to his knees. As the magical barrier recedes, he has no idea what to feel. He also just isn't sure what’s going on because he hasn’t had much of a coherent thought of his own since arriving in hell, but he has the vaguest idea. Moon’s like “How could I ever repay you” And Charlie’s like “All you have to do here is try your best.” and I think now’s a good time for Moon to get his turn to cry into her shoulder.

Over the course of the first few weeks at the Hotel, Sun, and eventually Moon, realize they are doing things they never were built or programmed to do. They learn they can emote with their faces much more than they ever could’ve before. They can cry with tears. They can get sleepy, and sleep like human sleep. They can even eat and drink somehow.

The first few interactions with Alastor are brief, most likely, the few words they do exchange being somewhat frustrating. Alastor doesn’t have any interest in associating with Sun and Moon, mainly as an extension of the general distaste he has for modern technology, partly because Sun said some passive aggressive things about/to Niffty. But a few taunting words with a thin veil to sound like a mockery of encouraging words is totally on the table still.

Yea idk im going to bed.

#hazbin hotel #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf security breach #fnaf dca #crossover #crackship #2am thoughts #alastor #alastor the radio demon #man wtf

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iamvegorott · 1 year

Text

Meeting A Magical Man Pt. 20

Part 1: Link Prev: Link Next: Link

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Marvin finished making his tea and some tea for Chase and Henrik as well before sitting at the table with them. He took a deep inhale of the tea’s steam and then sighed.

“If we’re doing this, I want to set up a system.”

“A system?” Chase asked.

“Let me guess, one question at a time?” Henrik didn’t sound surprised by this at all.

“Yep. We take turns asking one person one question, and follow-up questions are done by the next person or until your turn again.” Marvin wanted just a little control of this. He was still willing to let any question be asked, but having that little hold of something helped keep him from feeling like the world was spinning. He didn’t like to talk about serious things. He was never scared of questions, always more than happy to explain something to others. Jackie knew about magic users before Phantom because of him, because Jackie would ask how something worked, and he was happy to answer.

But this was different.

This was so different.

“Do we want to like, draw sticks for who goes when?” Chase suggested.

“I’ll go first. Why did you make out with Wilford?” Marvin said, looking right at Chase. Henrik was unprepared for that and started choking on his tea a bit, coughing into the crook of his elbow.

“I don’t feel like that’s top priority right now.” Chase’s protest had a bit of red on his face.

“We all have plenty of questions, and I’m asking my first one,” Marvin said. “Why did you make out with Wilford and yes, it’s the same Wilford you’re thinking of.” He added the last part toward Henrik.

“We met after me and Stacy split, and I was figuring out my sexuality, and he offered to…give me a hand in that. Just a friend helping me out, that’s all.” Chase’s face got redder and redder the more he spoke. He was clearly very flustered and not expecting to be discussing this. “My turn for a question.” Chase turned himself to Marvin. “How did you end up working for Dark? Phantom said he got involved to help Jackie. What about you?”

“I knew this would come up.” Marvin sighed. He removed his mask and set it down on the table. “When my powers came to be, they quite literally blew up in my face. I had no control, it was too much, and I was a danger to myself and those around me. Thankfully, I had already moved into my own place by then, so It only got to me and some belongings.”

“Didn’t you say that-”

“One question at a time.” Marvin cut off Chase’s comment with his reminder.

“Sorry.” Chase deflated a little.

“Oh, darling.” Marvin placed a hand on Chase’s leg under the table. “I promise it’s just a me thing. You’re fine.”

“Okay.” Chase softly smiled.

“And how I got involved with Dark was that he heard about the mess, knew what caused it, found me, and offered to help from something bad like that from happening again. I was his first contract hire.”

“My turn to question,” Henrik said. “What did Dark want?”

“He wants me to do one more job for him.” Marvin gestured to the folder. “He says if I find and bring him this ‘new apprentice’ I’m officially freed from my contract.” He could tell that Henrik had more questions by his eyes alone, so he quickly asked one. “How much does Robbie know? He went from five to fifteen in a night. I don’t know if he’d be caught up on what all a teen knows.”

“From what little I have gathered, he seems to be as fully developed as anyone his age would be. He understands culture, he has knowledge, I still have to test how much knowledge he has to see if he is advanced in anything or not. To be honest, his personality reminds me a lot of how we were back then. Again, I will need more time to see how true that is. Most teenagers have some form of sass.”

“Do you think the magic stuff you used has to do with it?” Chase asked. “Ah shit, that was my question, and I wanted to ask something else. Fuck it. I’ll ask it next time.”

“The magic stuff…” Henrik didn’t pay attention to the latter half of Chase’s talking as his brain started turning. “I gathered magic from my home and office to bring Robbie back to life. Myself, both of you and Edward are the most common in those places. Well, Edward in my office.”

“Could be your bed if you-”

“Do not.” Henrik stopped Marvin short. “As I was saying. From what you have explained to me before, magic is personal, it attaches to the person uniquely and can even affect those without magic if they are around it for so long. Perhaps we added to the influence of the magic as well and gave our knowledge, or at least a chunk of it, to Robbie, so he is already knowledgeable on things despite never being taught it.” He hummed to himself. “That is something I will be looking more into.” After a pause, he nodded and looked at Marvin. “You said a new apprentice. Whose apprentice is it? Is it…you know?”

“Nope, don’t you do any ‘he who shall not be named’,” Chase said.

“Is it Actor?” Henrik changed his question.

“I haven’t read anything yet, but with how Dark was talking. I wouldn’t be shocked if it was Actor.” Marvin peeked over and could see Chase literally biting his tongue. “Would you like help shopping for Robbie's clothes tomorrow?”

“Oh…sure?” Henrik said with a shrug.

“Who the fuck is Actor?” Chase slapped both hands down on the table, speaking his words quickly.

“He was Dark’s mentor,” Marvin said. “Taught him almost everything he knows, and because of some…drama behind the scenes, they fucking hate each other. He has his own little group like Dark does. I’ve only met one of them before, and for the life of me, I can’t remember his name.”

“This does not sound safe in any form,” Henrik said. “Actor is not one you should mess with on your own, but I do not want to know what would happen if he finds someone who could be potentially more powerful than you. I may not know much about that man, but from what I have been told…I do not like any of this.”

“I don’t think I have a choice, Hen. Regardless of anything, I want to find this person. Who knows what Actor is doing or what Dark would do?”

“I want to help in any way that I can.” Henrik sighed. “Chase, did you have any other questions? I believe there was one you wanted to ask earlier, but it got skipped over.”

“Go for it,” Marvin said when Chase hesitated since it wasn’t technically his turn. “We’re done with the one-question-at-a-time thing.”

“You said you were doing magic since you were a kid, but your powers kicked in when you were an adult?” Chase asked.

“The magic I did when I was a child were those tricks you can learn online, and I was seventeen when I first discovered my real powers. I was on my own because my father kicked me out, and my mother couldn’t convince either of us to have me stay. And I would like to end that conversation there.” Marvin stood up, picking up his now cold tea.

“Remember when this was about making a potion for me to sleep?” Chase asked with a weak chuckle.

“Right, I do finally have everything for that. I’ll work on putting that together so you can give it the first test run tonight.” Marvin put his mug into the microwave. He didn’t like warming up his drinks like this, but he wasn’t in the mood for cold tea or to do anything else to warm it up. What little energy and will to do things for the day he had left he was going to save for making the potion.

“Are you going to read the folder?” Henrik asked.

“In the morning. I need a break from that.” Marvin watched the mug spin, eyes half-closed as he could hear the soft humming of the machine.

“We can do Robbie's clothes shopping in the afternoon tomorrow?” Chase suggested. “Not a whole wardrobe, but a few shirts and pants, so he’s comfortable until the next growth spurt.”

“You think there will be another?” Henrik sipped on his tea, not minding that it was cold.

“I wouldn’t be shocked.”

“Maybe he’ll get as old as us since you mentioned us influencing your place and my magic. Maybe he’ll get as old as I was when I first started putting magic in this place. Wasn’t I twenty-one or something when you got this house?” Marvin glanced over at Henrik.

“Twenty-one. I only recall because we had my housewarming and your birthday party on the same night, and it was…interesting.” Henrik clicked his tongue at the memory.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘fun’. That night was amazing.”

“I am shocked you can remember it.”

“I didn’t get that…you know what, fair.” Marvin laughed. “Maybe when we get all this shit done, we can have another rager like that. Chase can be one of the strippers~”

“You had strippers?” Chase snorted a little, the comment not hitting him the way Marvin had wanted it to. “I can’t imagine Henrik and strippers in the same place.”

“He had a blast with them, baby. Oh! We can invite Edward to be one, too.”

“Do not dare!”

“Now, I have to.”

“Do not!”

“You’re blushing, Hen.” Chase poked his own nose with his chuckle.

“You are both terrible!”

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Tags: @brokentimewatch @bookwormscififan @d-structive @rainymae523 @ashtonisvibing

#meeting a magical man #trickshot #veggie writes

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starryserenade · 1 year

Text

Myth and Magic Ch. 15: Awakening

Fic Description: When Tir Na nÓg--the fabled land of the fae--falls to a dark power, the destinies of two young mice are set in motion. As each struggle to make their way in an ever-darkening world, they must learn to trust one another, or risk forever losing that which they hold most dear.

Chapter Description: Mickey and Minnie return to the village, danger lurking just behind them.

Links:

AO3

Prologue

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter: Coming Soon

~~~

She was quiet, eerily so as they rode across the hills. Any humor and satisfaction at their recent accomplishment had melted away along with Minnie’s smile, and Mickey now found himself staring somewhat dejectedly at the snowfall that surrounded them. He wished he knew what she was thinking. If the grim expression written on her face was pain or worry, or if his presence was the thing that had triggered it. It still scared him, the look that kept crossing her eyes every now and again–distrust and love all at once, like some great war he couldn’t see was raging within her. He wondered then, if it might be better for her without him there. She’d protested it, sure…but of course she had. That was just Minnie. She’d help anyone no matter how much it hurt her.

As afraid as he was of all this, he was far more scared to loosen his grip around her waist. She’d grown paler since they’d left the riverbank, and seemed to sway dizzily each time the Kelpie made an abrupt turn or small leap over a stone or branch in its path. Unfortunately, that was quite often. He’d willed the creature to take a path opposite Mortimer and his forces, so the main road was out of the question. The route they took was a bit rockier, and left their mount weaving endlessly through obstacles in its path. He blamed himself for that, too.

Snow still coated most of the countryside but a faint trail of warmth followed them as they rode through. In their wake, snowfall turned to rain and the clouds parted to reveal small streams of sun, while the places just out of their little pocket remained cold and dark. Mickey marveled at the spectacle, and it was almost enough to distract him from his worry. In truth, he’d never really thought he'd played a part in bringing back some sense of spring to the village, had never really noticed when the warmth followed them ever so slightly to the castle. If anything, he’d figured it had been Minnie, and her power alone. But now he noticed the glow trickling off his wings, drifting to the ground where it left patches of green poking through the snow. He nearly pointed this out, but thought better of it when he felt her draw in a deep and labored breath.

Mickey loosened an arm only so that he could pull back a stray strand of hair that had fallen over her face as she leaned forward, growing more limp with every second. “We’re almost there, ‘kay?” He kept his voice soft and quiet, having noticed she winced every time the kelpie let out a noisy snort or whinny. She responded with nothing more than a slight bob of her head, eyelids fluttering as if trying to stay awake. Mickey swallowed and held her a bit tighter. She was worse off than he thought.

We’re almost there, he reassured himself this time, spotting the faint billows of chimney smoke in the distance. Thankfully, that was all the smoke he saw, proof that they must have beaten Mortimer. That was a relief, at least. He let out a sigh that was quickly stifled by an air of disappointment.

Though it had been less than a week since they were taken from the village, the floral hints of spring had already been coated by a layer of ice and snow. The place was once again shrouded in the cursed weather, and on its way to being worse off than before. Mickey’s tail drooped. These storms were getting worse, and he had a lingering suspicion they were more caught up in the cause than he first believed. He thought back to the dragon’s words, and wondered if the world itself might not truly be at risk.

Was he to blame?

He shook off the apprehension with a shake of his head. That was neither here nor there. Minnie was his focus now, and she was in enough danger already.

Mickey urged the kelpie to quicken its pacea nd with a whinnie and a splash of water from its mane, it burst forward, cutting through the snowfall. It galloped forward until it reached a place just outside the village that was shrouded by trees and foliage. Mickey let out a breath, heart twisting at the sight of their hiding place so desolate and frozen over. Icicles hung on the trees, and the once-green brush and branches had already grown barren and withered.

His eyes stuck on the scene for a moment, and he found a heat rising in him. It didn’t seem fair, to have come so close to something so wonderful only to have his world pulled out from under him all over again. Years worth of not knowing a thing about where he came from, of trying to forge any sort of home for himself, and it had gotten him here. To a place where he’d endangered the first glimpse of love that had ever been shown to him. He might have gotten lost in his frustration, had Minnie not stirred uncomfortably in his arms. Startled, he noticed his glow had gotten brighter, hotter, and he swiftly shifted his focus to cooling his magic. He still wasn’t sure how exactly to do all this, but a gentle flutter of his wings seemed to do the trick, even if it pained him to do so.

Focus! He reprimanded himself with a twitch of his tail when he’d cooled, and gently turned his attention back to Minnie. She’d fallen asleep, so he was left with the delicate task of helping her dismount without waking her or aggravating her wound. This wasn’t easy considering his height, and he awkwardly shifted to the left and right of the mount before giving up and casting an exasperated sigh to the kelpie. It seemed to sense his stare and craned its neck to look back at him, then let out a snort. Mickey took that as a personal insult.

“ ‘S’not my fault,” he hissed quietly with a wrinkle of his nose, and when it shook its head back at him, he sighed. “Can y’help me out, please? ”

The creature seemed satisfied with this request and gently, it lowered its head and knelt first on its front legs, then on its back, allowing for Mickey to dismount himself while keeping a hand to Minnie. When both his feet were safely planted on the snow-covered earth, he whisked her up in his arms as carefully as he could, listening for the quiet breaths that escaped her lips. They were labored, yes, but consistent, and he released a relieved breath of his own at that simple fact.

“Thanks, big gal,” Mickey whispered, and nodded towards the kelpie who was just starting to return to its hooves. It stared at him for a moment, silent, but when Mickey began to walk away, set on returning to the village, it whinnied in protest and trotted up beside him, taking his cape in its teeth and pulling him back. “H-hey, what gives?!” He kept his voice as quiet as possible, but still couldn’t help but raise it slightly. “I’ve gotta get ‘er help!”

He tugged at his cape and tore it free, but the kelpie moved in front of him and blocked his path. Mickey held Minnie as close as he was able and held his ground, ready to try to move past the steed. He opened his mouth to argue with it, but then it lowered its head and stared at him with such sincerity that he felt he had to pause.

“What are ya tryin’ to say?” he murmured, watching as its eyes glittered in the light of his own glow. When it approached him again, he didn’t try to move. Gently, closing its eyes, it set its muzzle against his forehead.

There was only a pinprick at first. Like a flicker of candlelight that lit up a dark corner of his mind he didn’t even know was there. Then it exploded in a burst of light, and Mickey stumbled backwards with a gasp and stayed there, staring wide-eyed at the creature who only tilted its head curiously.

His presence had once again summoned the sun and though it was nearly twilight, small pillars still shone down through the trees and fell upon the creature he faced. Its mane scattered the light across the snow in tiny beams of color. So beautiful was the scene that Mickey found it difficult to stay frightened. The kelpie did not move towards him again, only stared, and cast a glance towards Minnie before looking back up at him once more.

Y’wanna help her too, huh? Mickey thought, and held his breath when the horse dipped its head in a nod. You can hear me?

It nodded again, and Mickey cracked a smile. Not a wide one, only a soft, breathless sort of grin. All right…show me how.

He couldn’t hear the kelpie’s thoughts the same way one might hear words spoken, but they painted themselves like pictures in his mind. Delicate images with gentle colors, as if stained with water, accompanied by an overwhelming feeling . An intentionality that guided him down a sunlit path through each picture.

He found himself led towards the brush, towards the same little tunnels he’d used before. They were coated with snow now and mostly hidden, but he was urged to them nonetheless, and when he stopped before one, at a loss as to what exactly he was supposed to do, the kelpie whipped its mane around as if completely exasperated with his incompetence.

Mickey could feel its frustration, and narrowed his eyes. Go easy on me, pal. This is all new t’me, too.

When he blinked, he saw a hand set to the twisted branches, and the snow melting away beneath it, so he swallowed his uncertainty and his pride and followed suit.

At his touch, the foliage seemed to wake up, and each plant radiated with a gentle warmth. The snow slipped off their branches and tiny buds littered the surface of the entire patch of brush, sweeping across it like a wave. So, too, did it part for him, his usual tiny passageways widening so that he could make his way through without having to duck at all. When he glanced at the kelpie, it snorted at him and he could have sworn it rolled its eyes. Then it tossed back its mane and stepped straight into the brush beside the tunnel, passing through as easily as a river might part for a stone in its way.

Mickey drew in a breath then shrugged and stepped into his own passageway. The moment he’d cleared the entrance, it closed behind him, and he breathed a sigh of relief that they were now hidden from view. The overgrowth had made it difficult for the sun to peek through as it had before, but that didn’t matter. Mickey’s own glow was more than enough to illuminate the tunnel. As he journeyed into the clearing, his light fell on the rest of the area as well, as bright as any sunlight might be.

The kelpie was already there waiting for him and when he arrived it beckoned him towards where it lay, soft blades of grass pooling about it. The pond itself was still frozen, but the moment Mickey approached it began to thaw, lilypads sprouting up to its surface as if the warmth of spring had never left. They clumped together in a place just in front of the kelpie, forming something like a bed upon the surface of the water.

Are ya sure? He thought gently, its instructions ringing in his mind, and glanced at Minnie. She was so still, so cold now. Letting her go terrified him more than anything.

At this, the creature’s ferocity melted, and he felt nothing but a quiet sense of peace envelop his mind. It was here to help, he was sure of it.

He knelt beside the kelpie, just on the banks of the pool, and gently set Minnie upon the bed of lily pads that had formed. Though there must have been a touch of magic to them, they still dipped beneath her weight. Mickey paused, unwilling to release her. Then the kelpie nudged up against his shoulder and he finally loosened his grip, trembling as his hand brushed past her arm and lingered at her fingertips.

The kelpie lowered its muzzle to the water, and a ripple shuddered across the surface of the pool. In its wake, small vines sprouted from the lily pads and wrapped around Minnie’s waist. Her legs melted into the pearlescent scales of her tail and in the place where her wound shone through her dress, deep pink petals sprouted and unfurled in the midst of the surrounding leaves. She drew in a soft breath and Mickey released a shaky one.

Keep her safe, okay? The thought was a quiet plea, and the kelpie answered him only with a swish of its tail – its focus was locked on the sleeping princess, and her alone.

Mickey cast a glance back at her, then turned back the way he’d come. He wished more than anything he could stay to see her healed, but someone had to warn the villagers before Mortimer arrived. She’d be safe for now, safer than she’d be with him at least.

The moment he left the confines of the brush, he tugged nervously at his cloak, making sure it concealed as much of his wings as possible. Feathers poked out from beneath the rim, but he hoped they’d be mistaken from a warmer cloak underneath. They still hurt endlessly – a raw, nagging sort of ache that only worsened as he drew them in clsoer to himself than they belonged. He longed to let them free behind him but he was terrified of what the villagers might think, and he needed them to listen. With any luck, he’d be able to keep them hidden long enough to get the message across.

He set out for Goofy’s house first, ignoring the shocked stares he got from the few lingering passersby he crossed as he made his way through the streets. They’d thought him dead, he could see it on their faces. Each of them froze for a moment before a surprised grin crossed their faces, though that only made him more eager to escape their eyes. They wouldn’t be nearly so kind if they knew what he was. The only greeting he gave them was an awkward smile and a low-hanging wave – he couldn’t risk letting his cloak fly up behind him.

When he reached Goofy’s doorway he knocked briskly, hoping beyond all hope he was home. Relief washed over him when the door opened abruptly and he appeared, his mouth open wide in preparation for a lighthearted greeting. But then he looked down and spotted Mickey, and froze.

“G-Goofy…” Mickey had hardly a chance to say hello before his friend had dropped to the floor and gathered him in his arms, and he found himself unable to finish the sentence. He’d come to know Goofy as one prone to dramatics, but the sincerity in his embrace and in the tears that started to flow just about left Mickey a bumbling mess too. “Awe, Goofy…I’m…I’m all right, see? I-” He winced as one of his wings was squeezed a bit too tight, and then faltered when he realized Goofy must have noticed they were there. His friend, still a mess of sniffles, drew back and looked at him with wide eyes, and Mickey swallowed. He drew in several short breaths, shrinking beneath his stare, and fumbled with his words. “L-listen…I dunno how…I didn’t know…I…I swear it…I’ll be leavin’ soon…but I…”

And then Goofy was rushing him inside, casting all sorts of worried glances out the door. “Well, gawrsh, Mick…” Goofy hissed, wiping his nose with his sleeve as he shut the door behind them. “Is that what they were after y’for?” His cheeks were still stained with tears, but there was no fear on his face. No hatred or distrust, either, and that was enough to send Mickey to his knees in a trembling heap on the floor. His cloak shifted off his shoulders, and his wings slipped out from underneath.

He was tired, more tired than he’d realized. His heart ached more than his body, and every inch of him wanted nothing more than to collapse.

“Goofy…” he croaked, looking up at him with pitiful eyes. “I swear…I didn’t know.”

He hadn’t, not really, but he couldn’t help but feel like he’d lied before. About everything. Didn’t he deserve a bit of reprimanding for that, a bit of anger directed his way? But Goofy was not angry, and he didn’t say much of anything about all the things Mickey had feared he might. At most, he seemed…

Well, concerned.

“Gee, Mick, y’didn’t really think I’d be upset at ya for somethin’ like this, didja?” There was a gentle smile scrawled across his face, though his eyes were narrowed with worry. “I’m your friend. You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout things like that. Now, whaddya need? Food? Clothes? An’ where’s Minnie?”

Mickey smiled but only slightly. It slipped off his face in hardly a moment. There were a thousand thoughts running through his head, half of them completely irrelevant. Finding the important ones seemed an impossible task, and it took him a few seconds to get any sound out at all. His words were fragmented and slurred when he finally did, and his hands shook as he spoke. “Min…Minnie’s…she’s safe f-for now. And I don’t need much…not really, but…but…they’re coming…you’ve gotta get everyone outta here…”

“Hold on, Mick! Who’s comin’?”

“Th-the king! He’s got soldiers, too…I-I dunno how many. I’ll buy ya some time…try to at least…but-”

Goofy’s eyes widened momentarily then he looked at Mickey sternly. “Well, no matter who’s comin’ our way, you’re not goin’ anywhere without help.”

He wasn’t getting it. He wasn’t getting it, and they were running out of time.

“Goofy!” Mickey gasped, and found his heart beating far too fast when he jumped to his feet. “Y’don’t understand! Th-they’re gonna burn this place t’the ground..! I…I don’t care what happens t’me but y’gotta get outta here! I just…I don’t wanna hurt any…anyone else…I…gosh, I… I just… I…I…”

The words dissolved into a whimper despite his best attempts to finish. His vision grew hazy and though his chest heaved with manic breaths, he took in and expelled the air too fast to use any of it. He’d have fallen backwards had Goofy not come behind him to steady his stance and guide him to the floor. Though he couldn’t really even feel that. There was only a sense of buzzing in his mind that he couldn’t get to go away, a noise that he couldn’t silence, no matter how hard he tried. Goofy said something but he couldn’t understand it – it was faint and warbled. After that it was only a sort of static in his ears, and a sense of intense chaos and guilt that settled in his chest.

He wasn’t really sure how long it took for him to become aware of himself again, to get to a point where the air he took in actually did him some good. But slowly, he became aware of his friend sitting there beside him, accompanied now by a younger companion who looked at Mickey with just as much concern as his father. As Mickey blinked and swallowed, Max held out a small cup of water and smiled.

It took Mickey a few more seconds to truly come to himself, but when he did he managed to draw in a deep breath and release it. With a shaky smile and even shakier hands, he took the drink and took a sip just big enough to clear the dry feeling in his mouth.

“...Th-thanks…” he breathed and looked back to Goofy, utterly defeated. His friend didn’t say anything at first, but Mickey felt he owed him an explanation anyway. “Goofy, I…I know things now I wish I didn’t,” he whispered hoarsely. “I think I might’ve done something really bad, and I… I don’t want anyone else t’get hurt. The king’s only after all of you because of me…because ya helped me. This is my fault, and I…I’ve gotta fix it.”

Goofy paused as Mickey finished, and appeared to think for a few moments. When he spoke again, it was to Max. “Maxie, what didja say t’me before? About what happened when you got caught?”

Max’s eyes sparkled. “Mickey came t’rescue me!”

“And what did y’call ‘im?”

The child laughed. “He’s my hero!”

Mickey thought he might cry. When Goofy turned to him, the mouse was stifling a sob. “Goofy…”

But Goofy didn’t give him a chance to argue. “Now, what kind of dad would I be if I let my son’s hero go racin’ off alone into danger again?”

“But Goofy, I’m not…”

“Listen, Mick,” Goofy interrupted sternly. He seemed more serious and profound than Mickey had ever seen him. “I don’t know whatcha mighta done in the past, but I darn well know who y’are now. Yer my friend, and you’ve got a good heart and a good head on yer shoulders. And even if the whole village goes and runs away, y’can count on me to stand here besideja.”

His sincerity stunned Mickey speechless, and it took the mouse a few minutes to find the words to respond, though they were hardly anything stellar when he did.

“Gosh…ya…ya mean that?”

“‘Course I do,” Goofy grinned, and the pure faith in his tone was enough to give Mickey the strength to start truly thinking again.

“Well then,” Mickey started, clearing his throat. “We’ve gotta go warn everyone, tell ‘em to get the kids t’safety at least. The king seemed bent on destroyin’ everythin’ no matter what, so…so we better prepare for the worst. Make sure everyone’s got what they absolutely need an-”

A trumpet sounded outside, and Mickey’s blood went cold. “No…” he hissed, darting to the window. He couldn’t see much, but the sound of horses grew clearer. “No, no, too soon! A-alright,” he stammered, refusing to let his fear take hold of him again. “Change of plans! Get Max somewhere safe at least, he’s the only one they really saw before. I’m gonna go see what I can gather from the crowd. There’s gotta be a way to save this place somehow.”

Goofy had gathered up Max at lightning speed, but he kept a cautious eye to Mickey before rushing out the door. “You keep safe ‘til I come back for ya.”

“Awe whad’ya take me for, Goof?” Mickey winked. “When have I ever gotten into trouble?”

His friend seemed glad he had his humor back at least, and chuckled softly before rushing outside with Max in hand.

When he’d left, Mickey darted into the room he’d called his own, taking only a second to appreciate that it’d been left untouched, and slung his spare bow behind his back along with a quiver that had fewer arrows than he’d have liked, but enough. Then, running back into the main room, he snagged his cloak from off the floor and tightened it securely around his neck, tucking it in extra snug to keep it from billowing outwards. He drew the hood over his head this time, too. He’d need to hide more than just his wings out there.

When he approached the door to leave, he cast one final glance behind him, hoping and praying that he’d be able to save the place he’d called home.

The crowd outside was in a frenzy, with all the villagers clambering to gather in the square and see what all the commotion was about. Mortimer and his soldiers towered above all of them atop their horses, who whinnied and pounded their hooves without regard for the people nearby.

What are they doing here?

Damned king…

Can’t they just leave us alone?

Mickey heard all the hushed and panicked whispers as he wove into the middle of the gathering, hiding behind someone distinctly taller than him, but whom he could easily peek from on either side. Shortly after he’d found a place, Mortimer raised his hand, trying too hard to look regal, and a trumpeter beside him sounded their horn. The people silenced, and Mickey held his breath.

“Adoring Subjects,” Mortimer began, and Mickey nearly snorted. “It’s come to my attention that two very dangerous criminals might have escaped into your quiet, little village…”

A ripple of murmurs swept through the crowd, and Mickey hid himself as much as he could as everyone glanced nervously around them.

“I assure you, these monsters are the worst of the worst! They bring with them nothing but chaos and destruction, and while you may think them your friends, do not be deceived by their lies! They will inevitably betray you, and turn on you as they did me, alongside these wretched creatures!”

The guards beside Mortimer parted, and several others came up from the rear, dragging with them three figures – two large and one small – all chained in irons. The color drained from Mickey’s face. Fairies. The ones who’d helped him and Minnie back at the castle. They stumbled forward weakly, bodies streaked with silver as his had been. Their cheeks burned a feverish red.

Beside him, the people gasped.

Monsters!

Those horrible pests…

Mickey swallowed and drew his cloak a bit tighter.

To Mortimer’s other side, a fourth figure was brought forward, gagged so she couldn’t speak, though she thrashed wildly in her chains.

“Ah, and this poor girl,” Mortimer sighed, feigning regret. “My own servant! Blinked by those nasty things! Who knows if she’ll ever think clearly again!”

Daisy!

The duck narrowed her eyes and lunged for the king, stopped just short by the guard that held her. Mortimer drew back and scowled, wrinkling his nose at her. “Eugh…s-see! Even now, she’s crazed by fairy magic!”

At this point, the crowd was getting riled, and Mickey could practically taste the tension in the air.

“Who are they?!” one person shouted.

“Yeah! Tell us!” another growled.

Mortimer lifted his hands to hush them. “The culprits are the two mice – perhaps you know them – Mickey and Minnie!”

Mickey winced at the sound of his name and ducked his head. He expected the crowd to launch into another frenzy – they did know him, and some of them had seen him just today. But instead they went quiet, and when he dared to lift his eyes, he saw that most of them were looking at each other with uncertainty, though none dared to say a word.

Mortimer was not satisfied by their silence, and scowled. “Oh, please!” he shouted. “I know they’re hiding here! I know they hid here before!”

But still no one spoke. Until one woman, a fox tail swaying behind her, sauntered forward and stared him down. Mickey’s tail did a sweep of the ground behind him. He recognized that fox. It was Moira. “Even if th’did, “ she spat. “None o’ us would till ye! Faerie or nah, they ‘elped us more than y’ever did!”

Mickey’s jaw could have dropped to the floor right then and there, had Mortimer not exploded in a burst of fury.

“Is that SO?” he snarled, fuming. “Does everyone ELSE think the same way?”

Goofy must have returned, because Mickey heard his voice echoing across the crowd, urging on the cries of support. Murmurs and shouts of agreement rang through the crowd and with every one, Mortimer’s frown deepened, until suddenly he snapped.

“FINE THEN!” He shouted, leaning forward on his steed. “Captain! If they won’t help us find those cursed fairies, then they’ll BURN with them!”

Even Pete seemed unsure about that, but when Mortimer screamed at him a second time, he scowled and gave the command. At least a dozen soldiers, torches in hand, burst forth from the ranks and moved to launch them into the wooden homes that flanked them.

Only Mickey couldn’t stand by anymore. Pushing through the ocean of panicked screams, Mickey tore the cloak from his back, revealing his wings and the glow that radiated from them in all their glory. “ NO !” He screeched, leaping forward. And in the single motion it took for his wings to spread, every flame from every torch lifted from its resting place and gathered midair. Mickey froze in the center of the square, as did everyone else. He stared down Mortimer, wings outstretched and hands clawed, as his eyes blazed with fury. The magic flowing from him was something he didn’t understand, but he felt in that moment that he didn’t need to. His breaths came rapidly and sweat dripped from his brow, but only for sheer adrenaline. He’d never felt so unafraid.

Mortimer seemed paralyzed with fear, trembling beneath the ball of fire that now rested above him. But he was either stupid, or too utterly prideful to quit, because his frightened trembling turned to a crazed sort of laugh. “There you are, little mouse!” he sneered. “Very impressive! But what are you going to do next ?”

Mickey’s tail twitched, and he balled his hands into fists. Instantly, the fire gathered into a whirlwind and rushed into his hands and shot through his veins. He stumbled back, biting his lip against the heat that flooded his chest, but stood his ground nonetheless. “Do ya really wanna find out?”

He could not have known, but the light that surrounded Mickey the moment he’d summoned those flames was something like fire in and of itself. To all who watched, he seemed to be standing amidst a pillar of flame, unharmed, with a look that blazed just as fierce. More than half of the soldiers that accompanied Mortimer turned their horses and ran, leaving a pitiful looking army for the king to command. Mortimer glanced about him furiously, and then turned his attention to the prisoners. It took only a single nod for the guards to know exactly what he planned.

Simultaneously, they lifted their swords to the throats of their victims.

Mickey’s stance faltered.

“If I had to bet,” Mortimer cackled. “I’d say you barely know how to use that magic of yours. What do you think, Mickey? Think you’ll be fast enough to save all four?”

He wouldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. And it would be foolish to try. He caught Daisy’s eye, and she stared back at him expectantly, as if certain he must have some kind of plan.

In the pouch of his tunic, something pulsed with a strange heat, and Mickey gripped the dragon’s stone with the last bit of hope he could muster.

Minnie. I need you.

The stone cooled.

And then from the four corners of the river that surrounded the square, a rush of water spiraled upwards. Black, white, blue, and green, spiraled together in a miraculous stream of color, and when it met with the ground, a brilliant steed draped in seaweed green reared up in its wake. At the command of its rider –a frankly stunning mouse whose dress still sparkled with the last hints of pearly scales – it pounded its hooves into the stone.

The ground beneath Mortimer and his guards cracked. While his own horse pranced nervously and nearly bucked him off, his guards loosened their grip on their prisoners. Mickey darted forward at once, ignoring the pain in his wings to grab all three of the fae at once and pull them back to relative safety as the bridge before them crumbled. The kelpie galloped forward, and Mickey spotted Minnie as she helped Daisy onto her mount.

The duck wasted no time wriggling free from her gag, and then shouted Mickey’s way. “The amulet! The one Mortimer’s wearing! Get it!”

Mickey raised a brow, confused, as he tried to spot the piece. And then he saw it, an emerald gleam glinting as its tether was tossed around Mortimer’s neck. His horse was still bucking and rearing but as the cracks around the bridge began to dip into the river, it finally tossed him off and galloped to safety, leaving him scrambling on the fractured stone. When Mickey landed in front of him, he cowered, slinking back even in the midst of the tremors. It was almost enough to make Mickey laugh. Almost.

“I’m not like you,” Mickey scowled, and snagged the amulet from Mortimer’s grasp, tearing the string off his neck as he leaped up and glided away. “Still,” he added, turning back when he landed safely on the other side. “Hope ya like to swim.”

The bridge gave way, and Mortimer was swept along with the current, his curses echoing for miles before finally fading away

Then there was silence. Or some semblance of it at least. The villagers watched on, stunned yet grateful, and Mickey spotted Goofy in their midst. He cast Mickey a little wink, and the mouse chuckled lightly. And Minnie…ah, Minnie… There wasn’t a single trace of her wound left behind. Her hair was braided behind her back, a silver streak woven through, and her dress glistened like the sea. She was already tending to the wounds of the other fae when Mickey went to reach for her, but he never got the chance to get to her side.

Light flared in his palm, as if the heat he’d stored had reacted to something. And then he realized, it was the amulet that was glowing, and pulsing brighter with every second. Daisy took notice before anyone else, and her eyes widened.

“No, wait, Micke-!”

#birfdayyyy chapter #lol #StoriesComeAlive #myth & magic #myth and magic #mickey mouse #minnie mouse #mickey x minnie #fanfiction

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shostakobitchh · 1 year

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chapter 47 sneak peek!

Squirrel was not nearly as appetizing as Sirius had thought it would be. It had looked better sitting in the tree and staring at him with black eyes than dead with it’s fucking hair sticking to his tongue.

It tasted like shit after a couple of bites — maybe Azkaban had done something to his sense of taste, but then again, Sirius had never had the pleasure of eating fucking squirrel. It was the only thing he’d been able to catch in this sodding Forest — everything else was a magical creature — far too fast for him to catch, even as Padfoot. Sirius didn’t dare turn back into his human form yet. He’d be even more fucking useless as a man than a dog— he didn’t have a wand, and was there really even a point to changing back if he couldn’t do any magic?

This had to be the worst thought out plan he’d ever fucking had. Goddamn Wormtail —

Well at least he was out of Azkaban. That was a start. And away from Bellatrix. He hoped she chipped her teeth biting away at the bars — crazy bitch.

Sirius spat out the remaining squirrel he was chewing at and padded away, looking for the break in the tree line. The students must have arrived at Hogwarts by now, he’d been traveling for ages.

He didn’t even know where to start— he didn’t even have a plan. Merlin’s saggy balls, he didn’t even have a surefire way of getting into the fucking school. He could only imagine the professor’s reactions if Sirius sodding Black walked through the front door— he’d be Kissed before dinner, and then, they’d probably throw a Feast in celebration.

He needed a fucking strategy. Those took time, though, and time wasn’t a luxury Sirius could afford. He’d had all the fucking time in the world in Azkaban, spending his nights planning the escape, when the line of Dementors would be thinnest, when Bella had lulled herself into that haze of detachment and euphoria. Sirius had heard her screaming almost four floors down once he’d worked his way between the bars, and even then, it took six guards drawing straws to choose who would go to check on her.

Sometimes, he wondered if Remus had seen it too and recognized Peter. He would’ve dismissed it, probably. Denial had been his speciality, after all. Deny deny deny and you didn’t have to face up to it, deny deny deny. That’s why they’d figured he was the spy, anyway. Lily was the only one who doubted it, but that was Lily’s specialty, seeing the good in everyone. It had driven Sirius fucking ballistic.

He stared at the tree line, surveying it for cover. He’d spent twelve years locked away from a crime he hadn’t committed— surely he could wait a week or so for Wormtail to make an appearance. That would give him time to scope the grounds, find any points of entry that might be able to work in the meantime.

Just a while longer, he told himself. He’d get that little fucking shithead, he’d grab him in his maw and do what he should have done that day — a little while longer — only a while —

A week or so to think about how Sirius was going to take Wormtail apart. The exoneration could come after, Sirius supposed, because what greater proof was there than a body?

He knew all too well. A finger had been enough for Sirius, he could only imagine Fudge’s reaction with an entire corpse.

Still hungry, Sirius trotted along the thick foliage, making his way to the west end of the castle. He’d be able to see Gryffindor Tower from there and scavenge what he could from Hagrid’s hut. He always had food lying around for animals, and the food he fed his pets had to be better than the slop they gave Sirius in Azkaban (and squirrel). After a while, though, Sirius began to hear voices, voices from behind him, from within the Forest.

Keeping low to the ground and covered by the bushes, Sirius stalked closer to the source, recognizing the chatter of students as a voice bellowed over them — Hagrid.

“Everyone gather ’round the fence here! That’s it — make sure yeh can see — now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books —”

He was a professor, now? Christ, what else had he missed? Next thing Sirius knew, he’d find out that there was an ex-Death Eater teaching Defense or some other bullshit. Sirius poked his nose through some shrubs, scanning over the class, noting that it was Gryffindors and Slytherins, until he saw —

A low growl escaped from the back of Sirius’s throat. It was the ginger boy Sirius had seen with Wormtail — a Weasley. Ryan or Rolph or something. And beside him was —

The baby — her. Ariel. Christ, the name was still too much of a fucking mouthful. She was a clone of Lily, dark auburn hair and a clump of freckles over her nose, but she was shorter and stood almost hunched, her arms wrapped around herself as though she were cold. When she tilted her head in Sirius’ direction, he noticed that she had dark circles beneath her eyes, almost as dark as her eyes.

And then her eyes met his, and they widened.

Sirius felt himself give a little whine, his tag wagging involuntary. James would’ve been relieved, knowing she turned out like Lily. Sirius had made the comment to him about the baby getting his bloody magic hair and he’d gone a little white at that.

#aim and ignite #writing until my hands fall off #hp fanfic #harry potter fanficition #sirius

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dixonlvr-online · 2 years

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Day 3: Cold

Day 3/28

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: Nights in powerless houses are freezing, so Daryl keeps Reader warm.

A/N: When will I stop ranting about the cold? The world may never know.

advent calendar masterlist

The thin blanket Lori gave you did nothing to block the cold. Clutching it to you, your body shuddered every few seconds, making it impossible to sleep. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since everyone declared shut-eye, but it must’ve been hours. The abandoned house you were holed up in was powerless, like everywhere else, so low temperatures were inevitable. You tried to look on the bright side: at least it was better than outside. Still, gloved hands gripping the blanket as your body seized, it didn’t feel like it.

Earlier that evening you’d caught a glimpse of snowfall outside. Only a tease, but it lit up your inner child regardless. You weren’t used to snow in Georgia, so it was a welcome surprise. You’d pointed it out to Carl, relishing in the smile you’d missed for days. It was ironic that he would experience something as magical as snow for the first time at the world’s darkest.

You eyed him now, wrapped up in his mother’s arms as the two slept soundly. It was admirable, the way they fell into dreams and stayed there every night. How they did it, you had no idea, but you were tempted to fall to your knees and beg for answers every time the ceiling became your view for the night. You knew there were others like you, who quietly suffered through the sleepless nights. Daryl was the only one who did something with his consciousness, volunteering himself for watch. No matter how many times someone offered to take over, he was there, protecting the group without complaint. You admired him for it greatly.

Now though, the air suffocating you with its frigidness, you wanted him to admit defeat and lay beside you. The few times you’d touched him, he’d felt like a furnace. God, you wanted, needed that heat to consume you. Tonight, that was all you could think about. What would his arms feel like around you? Would he hold you close or keep a safe distance? Would he share the blanket with you?

Without thinking, you found yourself on your feet. You held the blanket around your shoulders, wiggling your toes to regain feeling in them. Your hair must’ve looked a mess, your eyes no doubt bloodshot, but you didn’t care. Daryl was sitting by the window and his keen hunter’s senses had already alerted him to your movement. He shot you a questioning look as you approached him.

“Whatcha doin’ up?”

You shrugged. “Can’t sleep. Too cold.”

He grunted in response, taking in your shivering figure. Already, that heat you’d been craving ran through you, but this was internal. His gaze was penetrating, the way he slowly scanned you up and down shooting sparks down your spine. When he looked up and saw your eyes staring back, he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Alrigh’,” he said, promptly standing up from his spot. Your brows furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged, stepping around you to your sleeping spot. “Gonna help ya sleep. Come on.”

Your eyes widened, his words echoing until they registered. Was he saying what you thought he was saying? Just when you were ready to shoot awake, sure you’d fallen asleep without realizing and were dreaming, he sat down, gesturing for you to follow. Confirmation. Your feet moved of their own accord, drawing you to the archer until you hovered above him. He looked up at you shyly, nodding to the space beside him.

“Comin’?”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. Lowering yourself to the floor, he noted your look of uncertainty and indicated for you to lay down. You did, feeling like a willing puppet. Eyes on the ceiling, your peripheral caught him settling in beside you, arms crossed over his chest. If tension held heat, you would both be in flames. But alas, the lack of contact still left you wanting, the temperature seizing hold of you again.

“Can we, uh, get closer?” you whispered, staring straight ahead in fear of his reaction. After a pause, he shuffled closer, your sides inches apart. Your heart beat faster, and you had a feeling his was racing along with it. Chests heaving, breaths in sync, you both stared at the ceiling in silence. After a few minutes of this, you began to wonder if this was really what he’d intended when he came over, but his loud sigh yanked the thought away.

“Yer still shakin’ like a washing machine. Come here.”

He scooted even closer to you, raising an arm to hover over your body. You hazarded a glance at him, startled to find his already on you. He looked…nervous? Was that what the gnawing on his lip meant? Or was it annoyance at your physical state for stealing him from his alone time? You couldn’t be sure, but his offer was too tempting to pass up. You nodded, sucking in a breath as he slowly lowered his arm to settle over you. The body heat spread across your skin despite the blanket, warming you from heart to hands.

“Thank you,” you said, drawing the courage to hold his gaze. He nodded, as if this was just any old favor he’d do for someone, as if he wasn’t touching you like you were made of glass. At that moment, you felt like it. Like if he held you any tighter you’d shatter, piercing his skin and clinging to him forever. Forging yourselves together into one being.

Almost as if he’d read your thoughts, he moved closer, until your faces were inches apart. You studied the creases around his eyes, between his brows. The small part in his lips where he was breathing, the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes moved across your face too, sonnets playing in the quiet.

When your eyelids drooped it was no surprise. You were in a living dream, and your body knew what dreaming meant. There was no need to fight sleep anymore, so you let it happen. You were warm, safe, and content. With Daryl’s arms around you, it was the most relaxed you’d felt in months. Feeling the weight of him against you, hearing his breaths slow, you knew he felt it too.

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #advent calendar #winter fic #the walking dead #twd x reader

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birdyspen · 2 years

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Wake Me Up (Anywhere But Here)

When I participated in Steter Secret Santa this year, my giftee’s request inspired two different ideas. This is the first idea I had, but because I liked the second one better, I decided to gift that one to them. But I figure this one still deserves to be shared, so here it is.

Stiles has never enjoyed waking up on the Nemeton, regardless of the circumstances of how he got there. The first time, a witch had tried to sacrifice him to power a ritual, and every time since, bad things had happened.

This was the third time in as many days. With the supernatural, Stiles has learned that anything more than one is most assuredly a pattern, so he'd skipped over coincidence yesterday. There was most definitely something wrong, though he'd known that before getting anywhere near the stump.

With one exception, everything was the same as it was yesterday. He was wearing the pants he'd gone to sleep in, his bond to his love was roiling with distress, and the Nemeton was agitated.

The exception was the way he could feel magic thrumming around him.

When Stiles had come to the Nemeton two days before and poured as much magic into it as he could and still stand afterwards, it had latched onto him and refused to let go, pulling magic out of him until he'd passed out. When he woke up again, cradled by his love, he had barely been able to feel his magic, there was so little of it. And the damn tree had still been trying to pull it out of him, faster than it replenished. Only leaving the clearing and hurrying out of the Preserve had kept it from draining him dry.

Then yesterday. Stiles had gone to bed in the hotel room they reserved, curled up with Peter, and woken in the morning lying on the Nemeton, very nearly drained again of what magic he'd been able to replenish. And the same again today.

The first two times, despite the enormous amount of magic that had been drawn from him, Stiles hadn't been able to sense so much as a drop of magic. Even from the Nemeton itself, which was supposed to be tied to the world's wellspring of magic, both drawing from and feeding it.

But this time, Stiles didn't even have to reach out to feel for it. The magic was everywhere, thick and heavy it was practically suffocating. Stiles had never felt it like that before. So much and so present he almost couldn't feel anything else. Even the bond in his chest that tied him to his mate felt muted.

“Stiles!”

Peter stumbled into the clearing, barely keeping his footing with the way he practically skidded to a stop. His relief rushed down their connection with all the swiftness of a river, and Stiles nearly smiled to feel it. But equally as quickly, it was soured with panic, even as Peter's expression reflected it for Stiles to see. And at the same time, Stiles felt the magic swell.

He reached out even as his wolf lunged for him, and everything went black.

~~~

When the Sheriff's name flashed across the caller ID on Stiles’s phone that morning, dread sunk like a stone in Peter's stomach.

If asked, he couldn't have explained why. The Sheriff's calls were sporadic, no schedule because of the time difference and the way the Stilinskis’ different lines of work tended to clash. So timing-wise, it wasn't out of the ordinary.

The stone only grew bigger when Stiles, after the usual round of greetings, catching up, and teasing, started to frown. And then he put the phone on speaker.

“Say that again, Dad.”

“There’s definitely something going on, though I have no idea what it is,” the senior Stilinski said. “There have been a number of odd happenings, to put it mildly. Birds falling out of the sky, and squirrels out of trees, sick or dead. Falling branches that turned out to be rotting inside. Sick and dying plants, particularly trees, all over the place. Various wildlife stumbling out of the Preserve and breathing their last.”

“I’m not saying I don’t believe you, just trying to cover all the angles, but have you checked the water?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, took some samples from the town’s water source and the river, sent them to a guy down in Sacramento and had Deaton take a look. Nothing toxic or that should be even remotely harmful to any kind of life.”

“What about the animals?” Peter asked. “Did anything show up when he examined them, sick or dead?”

“No, nothing,” the Sheriff answered. “Just ordinary sicknesses for the ones that were still alive, and the dead ones looked like they either just dropped dead out of the blue or had signs of the same ordinary sicknesses.”

Stiles glanced at Peter. “It definitely sounds like something. Maybe a curse?”

The werewolf snorted. “I’ve said for years that Beacon Hills is cursed. Wouldn’t surprise me if there were more to it than just being a draw for nasties.”

“There’s something else,” the Sheriff added, sounding almost a little hesitant to Peter’s ears.

“Dad?” Stiles prodded when the silence stretched.

“I’m not sure if it’s another sign or if it’s just me. None of the pack here have picked up on it, even when I’ve asked. But I’ve been getting this smell, coming from the Preserve. Like rotting and death.”

“I’m not particularly inclined to believe that nothing’s wrong just because Deaton and the McCall pack aren’t sensing anything out of the ordinary,” Stiles said. “Especially not when there very obviously is. They’re not exactly reliable about this stuff. We’ll come check it out.”

He glanced at Peter, who nodded in response to the silent question. No way he was going to sit this one out. Like he’d ever just sit back and watch when his mate walked into something dangerous. Especially something to do with Beacon Hills.

Even if the very thought of something going on there, and going into it, chilled him and only made the stone in his gut heavier.

The pair were back in Beacon Hills by sunset, and checked in with the Sheriff. He took them around town, pointing out some of the places where the more extreme events had occurred.

To their internal relief, they didn’t run into any of the residential pack in the process.

Peter knew Stiles was sensing something, it practically reverberated along their bond. But from the saturation of confusion, he had no idea what it was he was sensing.

The werewolf was picking up on something too, and it had him on edge. His wolf growled and paced in his head, their hackles raised. Not quite unlike something that was pinging just the very edges of his enhanced senses, but also different. And definitely something dangerous.

By the time they finished with that, it was past dark. Stiles wanted to check out the Preserve, but they all three agreed that was something best left for daylight hours. So the mated pair checked into their hotel, and made plans to investigate further in the morning.

The Sheriff hadn’t tried to trace the scent he’d been picking up, but as they approached the edge of the Preserve, Peter started to pick it up himself and realized that there wouldn’t have been much point. It was so strong and horrible, it was unlikely to lead them anywhere. Just a strong smell that was saturating probably most of the woods.

“How could Scott and the others possibly miss this?” Stiles exclaimed, holding his arm over his nose. From the disgust coming down the bond, it probably wasn’t doing much to block the smell. “You’re getting it, aren’t you?”

Peter nodded. “Oh yes, I am definitely smelling it.” It was so strong that he couldn’t even pick up Stiles’s scent past it, and his mate was standing right next to him. Resisting the temptation to reach out and make sure of it was difficult, and only further aggravated his wolf. And of course Stiles picked up on it. His clever, intuitive little mate stepped closer, brushing their shoulders together.

“We should check the Nemeton first,” Stiles said. “It’s possible that whatever’s happening is centered somewhere else in the Preserve, but there might be signs of what it is around the Nemeton.”

“Or communing with it could point us in the right direction,” Peter agreed. And dodged the elbow Stiles aimed for his side. “Is there another descriptor you would use?”

Stiles grumbled and flailed a little, but reluctantly subsided when he couldn’t come up with anything, and they started into the trees.

~~~

Once, the Nemeton had been hidden, its location erased from the minds of anyone who found it including those who guarded it from harm and misuse. But that time had died with Talia Hale, and now the protections were aimed more clearly. Intent wards around the perimeter of the Preserve kept it from being found by those with ill intent. And for anyone who managed to trick their way past those, there were others that prevented anyone who came without a specific escort from going past a certain point.

Stiles and Peter were among those few keyed to the wards as escorts, and so long as their intentions remained benign, they could pass through without hindrance. Two days ago, they’d walked the path together. Now, and yesterday, Peter ran it alone, panic singing in his veins, howled by his wolf.

For the second morning in a row, he’d woken to find his mate absent from not just his arms, but also the bed and even the entire hotel room they shared. Phone and wallet and magical supplies all left behind where they wouldn’t do any good, and which Stiles definitely wouldn’t have done if he’d left willingly.

Twice now, the Nemeton had dragged him away, and only their bond, being able to feel Stiles and track him, had kept Peter from losing his mind.

Whatever was going on here in Beacon Hills, Peter wished so very much that they hadn’t come back to deal with it.

Just as yesterday, when Peter burst into the clearing, Stiles was laying on the damn stump, blinking and shifting like he was still waking up and feeling out his environment. But he was waking up, and he seemed much less bleary than he had been yesterday when Peter had found him, or the first day when they had first come and the Nemeton had tried to drain him of every drop of magic he possessed and then some. His mate even smiled to see him, the relieved nature of it flowing both ways down their bond.

And then Stiles started to glow, and all Peter’s relief drained away in an instant.

The light pulsed, growing brighter and brighter each time. Whatever the Nemeton had wanted all that power for, it was happening now. And it was happening to Stiles.

He lunged forward, reaching out, saw Stiles reaching back. And then the light flared, blinding in intensity. Not only could Peter not see through it, but it burned, and he closed his eyes. It flared again, practically visible through his eyelids, and he was flung back, into one of the surrounding trees.

Peter didn’t hesitate to push himself back to his feet, ignoring the pain as he healed from whatever injuries he’d gained on impact. But he waited to open his eyes until the light suddenly winked out.

The clearing was empty. Stiles was gone.

The pain slammed into him then, as the bond felt like it was torn out of him by the roots. Peter collapsed to his knees, howling, clutching at his chest like he could catch it, and then just like he could stopper the jagged, gaping hole that was left behind.

~~~

Yeah, Stiles thought as he came to on top the Nemeton yet again, he was really starting to get sick of this.

Even as he blinked away the spots that crowded his vision and tried to bring his senses to heel, he could feel that there was something different about the clearing than there was before he had passed out. A different energy, one more vibrant and alive than it had been, though there was a darker edge to it. Multiple actually, and they felt familiar, like he would recognize them once he had his faculties back.

It was dark when he managed to focus on the sky overhead. Night had fallen.

If it had been that long since he’d conked out, Stiles was surprised Peter wasn’t hovering over him. Was surprised that Peter had let them stay in the clearing the longer he’d been out, since it would’ve driven his wolf crazy.

Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t feel Peter. The place in his chest where their bond was supposed to sit was empty, and the ache of it slammed into him with all the force of a truck.

Yeah, something was very wrong.

Stiles pushed himself up, forced himself to stand. And after he waited for the dizziness to pass, he took his first proper look around and suddenly it felt like everything in the world ground to a halt in its tracks.

“Stiles?”

Because there was Peter, standing on the roots and looking like a stiff breeze would blow him over, shock and confusion clear on his face. But what really got Stiles was the blood on his claws and the body of Jennifer Blake sprawled at his feet.

This had been years ago, what…what was going on?

#Steter #time travel

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carewyncromwell · 2 years

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“When you're weak, I'll be strong... I'm gonna keep holdin’ on! Now don't you worry: it won't be long... Darling, if you feel like hope is gone, Just run into my arms -- I'm only one call away... I'll be there to save the day... Superman got nothin’ on me -- I'm only one...I'm only one...call away...”

~“One Call Away (cover)” by Karlijn Verhagen & Mike Attinger

x~x~x~x

Carewyn’s dress robes based on this design -- so good to draw the outer sleeves more accurately than my original sketch, after making several mistakes with them I couldn’t fix in post the first time!

x~x~x~x

Oh gosh, some actually canon Carion content!! My dears, it has been a while... 🥰

For those of you who don’t know my personal canon for Orion post-Hogwarts, our favorite Quidditch Papa Bear enters into a couple of short-lived relationships while playing for the Montrose Magpies Quidditch team as their Chaser and later Captain, even though after seeing her Patronus that matches his right before he graduates, he’s left wondering if he and Carewyn could’ve been a thing romantically, if he’d both figured it out sooner and been brave enough to broach the issue with her. The most important of those relationships for Orion resulted in his beloved daughter Eos, who Orion took sole custody of after her mother abandoned both her and him in the midst of the Wizarding War, right before the fall of the Ministry. Since he was an orphan with no knowledge of his magical ancestry, Orion had to then go on the run from the Muggle-Born Registration Commission with baby Eos, only to get cornered and caught when he tried to covertly buy a replacement for his broken wand. While in custody, Orion kept Eos (strapped safely to his chest with a makeshift wrap) under his cloak in a desperate attempt to prevent their separation, pretending that she was his arm and that it was broken to explain why he wouldn’t let anyone touch or examine it too closely. Thankfully, when Orion and Eos arrived at the Department of Mysteries awaiting a trial and sentencing, several resistance members at the Ministry secretly broke in to rescue the most recent prisoners -- and one of those resistance members was Carewyn, still working under the radar in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Once Carewyn managed to smuggle Orion and Eos out, she sent him to stay with another resistance member -- an associate of her brother Jacob, who was also hiding fugitives in his London flat Secret-Annex-style -- where he and Eos could remain safely in hiding. As they parted, Orion couldn’t help but look upon this woman he hadn’t seen in person in six years with a kind of anxiety he hadn’t felt since the Quidditch Cup: one inspired and touched beyond words, but concerned for her well-being, as well.

“...I should think it would be pointless, to encourage you to hide as well.”

Carewyn’s face turned very grim as she shook her head.

“If I do, then I lose the position I have which can help me help others hide,” she said. She looked away, her expression becoming sadder. “...There’s so little I can do, right now. There are so many people I can’t help -- that I’ve failed to help...”

“You’ve helped me,” Orion said gently. “And Eos, as well. And for that...”

His black eyes rippled with emotion despite himself.

“...I lack the words needed, to express how I feel about that. The...gratitude I feel for it.”

Carewyn looked up at him, her almond-shaped blue eyes betraying deep emotion despite the brave smile she put on. She brought her arms around him, one holding the back of his neck in a hug and the other lightly resting beside the wrap holding Eos.

“There’s no way I would’ve let them hurt you, Orion,” she said quietly. “You or Eos.”

There were so many things Orion felt like he wanted to say, but he knew their time was short, and he ultimately lost his nerve. Even with this, though, his parting words to Carewyn were resolute --

“Next time we meet, it shall be because I have come found you -- hopefully in a more peaceful world.”

And Carewyn’s response was said through another resilient, pretty smile --

“I'll try to make that world come soon.”

Sure enough, after the War was over, Orion stopped by Carewyn’s office at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, both to acquire some help on behalf of the newly reformed Quidditch League and to follow up with Carewyn about her letters regarding the solidification of his legal custody over Eos. And it was through this reconnection that both Orion and Carewyn truly realized how destined for each other they truly were.

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #carewyn cromwell #orion amari #eos amari #only my second time trying to draw bb!eos!!#god I love single daddy orion so much :')#eos doesn't remember her mum at all so her daddy's legal partner carewyn is the closest thing she has to a mum #and honestly she's more than happy with that! carey's a kick-ass surrogate mum!#and her ward erik is a great surrogate brother even with all of his sailor-worthy swearing XD #orion has an uneven haircut btw #it's kind of hart to tell from this angle but the hair is all pushed up against that one side with an undercut underneath #makes it easy to tie up when orion's playing quidditch :D

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ordon-shield · 1 year

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Whumpril Day 8: Hope in Your Heart

nausea | comfort food | dehydration | alt prompt: ransom

ao3 link (2nd in a series)

Zelda was already worried when the four Links never came back from going to face Vaati. It had been days since they had freed her and gone to fight him, long enough for her to make her way back to the castle and start taking steps to help the kingdom recover. As busy as she was trying to manage missing knights and towns burnt down by a dragon, she still sent out scouts to try and fight them, hoping that they’d only been injured in the battle… and not anything worse.

Her worst fears seemed to have been confirmed when she sensed a wave of familiar magic, rushing to the castle courtyard in horror as a dark portal opened up in its centre, shouting to the guards to hide away. A tall and unfamiliar figure stepping out. No, she realised a moment later as she met his eyes. She knew this person, even if the form they took now was different from the one she’d seen before. Hovering just above the ground before her was Vaati, taking the shape of a tall sorcerer with long purple hair, a golden crown on their head, and a familiar eye looking out from the void beneath their robe.

Steeling herself, she stepped forward, calling upon her inherited magic, which took form in her hand as a bright orb of light.

“Vaati. Why have you come here?”

They turned to face her directly and smiled, the sides of their mouth stretching too far as they did so.

“Don’t worry Princess, I have no interest in you any more. Now that I’ve recovered my true power, I’m much more interested in something I heard about from that… boar beast that tried to command me. Tell me, Princess Zelda, where can I find the Triforce?”

Zelda’s eyes widened in shock at the word. The Triforce… it had become nothing more than myth and legend to the people of Hyrule, but the royal family had still retained their knowledge of the sacred artefact.

“The Triforce was lost centuries ago, soon after the end of the Hyrulean Civil War. It was kept in the Sacred Realm, a world adjacent to Hyrule, but when my ancestors finally opened the door to try and access it during a time of need, it had disappeared. You won’t find it here, Vaati.”

They tilted their head at her.

“Are you sure about that, Princess?”

With a wave of their hand, a small figure appeared next to them, held up in the air by chains made of shadow. Zelda instantly recognised him as Link, the Four Sword missing from his back, and his clothes the familiar mix of green and white he’d always worn before drawing that blade. She didn’t trust it for a moment.

“How do I know that isn’t just his shadow? We’ve been tricked before by that summoned shade!”

Vaati chuckled, as if amused by her question.

“That traitorous little spirit? It’s been… disposed of. If you need a guarantee though… I’ll let him speak.”

The shadows around Link seemed to loosen, and he shouted out to Zelda.

“Don’t listen to him! I’m fine, just don’t—“

The shadows returned, cutting him off, as Vaati loomed over Zelda.

“Do you believe me now?”

Zelda met Link’s eyes, pleading at her to refuse what Vaati had asked of her.

“… Free Link first. Then I’ll tell you what I know.”

Vaati shrugged and the shadows dissipated, sending Link falling to the ground where he lay limply. Giving him a worried glance, Zelda took a deep breath, meeting Vaati’s eyes with her own.

“The Triforce comes in three pieces. Power, Wisdom, and Courage. The Triforce of Power and the Triforce of Courage were last seen during the Twilight Invasion, centuries ago. The Triforce of Wisdom… was passed down through my family from the Queen of that time, until we chose to hide it away to protect it. You’ll find the Triforce of Wisdom in a sacred grove hidden deep in the forests of Faron. That’s all I know.”

Vaati’s grin split their face wide open, filled with more teeth than Zelda cared to think about.

“Thank you Princess. That’s all I need for now.”

With a burst of dark magic, which pushed against her senses like a vicious wind, the wind mage vanished into a portal just like the one they had arrived through, leaving Zelda and Link alone in the courtyard.

She rushed to his side, thankful to see him whole again, but worried about what he must have gone through with Vaati. Helping him up, she realised he had no visible wounds, which should have been a comfort, if she didn’t know just what a powerful mage could do to someone’s mind without ever drawing blood.

There was a reason she chose to accept Vaati’s deal, something more than their personal ties. It was something even Link didn’t know about himself, a well kept secret of her line. The divine power held by the Hero of Twilight was passed down through his descendants, and she’d been told enough stories of Hyrule’s past to recognise the shape of the faded birthmark on the back of his hand, even if he didn’t know its true meaning himself. To let Vaati keep him, even ignorant of his ancestry was a risk she couldn’t take.

Helping Link on their way to the castle infirmary, she tried to ask him what had happened, but he stayed silent, his eyes avoiding contact with her own. She had to wonder though… did his eyes always have that slight violet tint?

#legend of zelda #loz #the legend of zelda #four swords #four swords manga #whumpril2023 #whumprilday8 #my writing #Vaati

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thatyamiguy-blog · 2 years

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Draco’s new daddy (Harry potter)

From one of the great pure blood families and with a brilliant future ahead of him, Draco Malfoy these days was living a very much different life then he had even planned on. unable to land a job at the ministry of magic due to well, everything his family had done under he who should not be named, Draco found himself working odd jobs until the day he'd happened to run into a old classmate from Hogwarts: Miles Bletchley. Miles was apparently doing well from the fine clothes he was wearing compared to the blue jeans and formally white t-shirt but now mostly gray that Draco was wearing. He'd invited Draco out to lunch, and after assuring him he'd cover the bill, they had gone off and talked for hours.

As it turned out Miles was a gent of sorts for special young men who had certain..looks..and got them one night 'jobs' so to speak that payed well and of course took a modest percentage of the money as he wasn't doing this for fun. Draco knew how to read between the lines and blushed at the offer that was being made. "Listen Draco, with your looks, your frame and honestly..well..how some people feel about your family, I can promise you a lot of money for 1 to 2 works work at a time. And lots of clients." Miles said, chugging a butter beer. Draco was drinking something a little stronger and his bale cheeks were flushed, though from the offer or the wine it was hard to say. They had a private booth and Miles had cast a spell to give them further privacy, though he'd stressed what he was doing wasn't strictly illegal, it was gray area and best not to draw attention to it either way. "let's not beat around the bush Miles, you want me to be a prostitute." Draco said. "In a way yes, though in others no. I promise you'll never have to have sex with anyone who hires you unless you want to." Miles said. "..So loads of cash, and not getting my ass plowed..what's the catch?" Draco asked, raising a eyebrow and having more then a few doubts. "the catch is that each of my boys plays out one role for the lonely wizards of the world. One boy plays the part of a human dog,anther a sissy girlfriend, anther a maid and so on and so on. Any sex is to be agreed upon by both parties and I have my own branch of well..enforcers shall we say..who deal with clients who break that agreement." Miles said. "Bloody hell.." Draco said, shaking his head. "And what role would you have ME play then?" he was pulling his glass to his lips and started to take a sip when Miles told him. "A nappy boy." Draco spit out his drink and looked at his old school friend in disbelief.

And yet he'd ended up taking the job. Miles was true to his word that Draco never once found himself sucking dick or taking it up the ass, though he'd been forced to smog with more then a few men. And it was mostly men who hired him. people who loved seeing the pure blood in massive cloth nappies and a baby bonnet sitting on the floor and shaking a rattle. the fact that even after a year of doing this job he could still blush so bad while doing it only endeared him to his daddies and mommies. And Miles had been telling the truth at JUST how many clients he had. If Draco had so wanted he could of worked every days of the week for a month and still of had at least 2 clients a day. The only horrible part of the job (well aside from the general shame) was having to make BM's in his nappies. Oh how people loved to bounce him in a smelly nappy on their laps with a fat dummy in his mouth and chuckle as the tears rolled down his cheeks. Still it wouldn't be too much longer Draco figured before he could retire. he wasn't blowing though his money this time like he had before and was careful to save even coin he could, only treating himself to luxury items once a month. (In fact, he was so good with his money Miles had Draco speak with other of the working boys about how to better manage their finances!) He'd been relaxing in his modest flat and reading the paper when a Owl had arrived from Miles, telling him of a urgent client who was willing to pay triple the normal fee for a session with the nappy lad tonight, despite Draco having made it clear he was taking a few days off to treat a embarrassing little problem. His diaper rash. Miles note made it clear that it was up to Draco, but he strongly urged him to accept. apparently this client had used other boys and wanted to try something new and some vague threats had been made about dropping the service altogether. "Shit. Guess it's time for me to be the company man." Draco muttered and sent a message off saying he'd take the job, and asked for the location of tonight's 'daddy' Apparently Miles had figured Draco would do that because just as he sent his owl off, anther one appeared with the info he asked for. wondering just how well his agent knew him Draco went and packed up his work bag and headed out the door.

His work bag was a black duffel bag, filled with Nappies and plastic pants (and Panties) in his size. not that he wouldn't of minded if his clients supplied for him but some just went all cheap and others went over the top and expected him to go halves with him on it. if he brought his own supplies it just worked out better. He had some t-shirt and bibs in there, along with his selection of dummies and a bonnet, and most embarrassingly to him, a dress. It'd been a give from the first mommy he'd had and he'd promised to keep it even though he hated the thing. Still, you never know when someone else might want him in a dress and this one again fit him to a t. One of his recurring daddies had tried to get him a proper diaper bag but Draco had drawn the line there since he had to think of how that would look walking to and from his daddies or mommies places. The Hotel where the big shot daddy was staying wasn't far from Draco's place so he walked, it was late enough out that not too many people were on the streets unless they were outside of a pub having a smoke. 'The wacky duck..some people shouldn't be allowed to name things.' Draco thought with a smirk, reading the sign. it wasn't a high class hotel which was good because it meant not having to fuss too much with the front desk, nor did it look like a cheap and easy place which meant a lot Friday night party animals around to make it risky. walking in he did go to the front desk and a young lady was behind it and smiled at him. "Excuse me miss, I'm looking for room 201?" He asked in a polite tone. She gave him a huge smile and giggled a little, making him a little nervous. "Ohhh one of his boys huh? second floor, right next to the lift." She said with a wink then asked. "So what's YOUR gimmick?~" "...Not to be rude but I don't believe thats any of your business. Thanks for the directions." Draco said, face turning reds he turned and walked fast for the lift, he chuckles ringing in his ears. getting off on the second floor, room 201 was right where she'd said it was and he made his way over and knocked on the door. five fast knocks and then three knocks with a space of 3 seconds between them just as the note had said to. He could hear movement in the room and tried to banish all thoughts of discomfort away and focus on being a good boy for his daddy. 'your a little nappy boy. your a little nappy boy..' He chanted in his head, and put a big grin on his face that vanished as the door was opened up. "Draco? what are you doing here? I'm expecting..company.." Harry mother fucking potter said, going from looking confused to smiling. "I..I think there's..been..a mistake." Draco squeaked out. of all the people in the world he LEAST wanted to know about this job, Harry potter was number one, with Hermione at 2 and Ron at three. "oh I don't think so little man." Potter said, looking totally delighted. "Thought I wish Miles would of told me YOU were going to be my little nappy boy. I'd of doubled my offer. Now, are you going to come in like a good boy or does daddy need to spank?" as Harry spoke he moved to the side and gestured for Draco to come in. The mental image of him over Potter lap and the phantom pain of it made a hand go to Draco's back side and he sprinted into the room and Harry closed the door behind him. "Good Boy."

Draco looked around the room, it was at least decently furbished and even had a muggle telle on a night stand and then turned his attention to potter. the 3 years since high school had been more then kind to harry who was tall, broad shouldered and handsome while Draco could of passed for a 11th grader after shaving. "I'm going to set a timer once our session starts.I've paid for two hours and I intend to get every last second." Harry said then walked over and sat on the large bed, and patted next to him for Draco to sit. The blond nodded slowly and walked over. "Look, I know this must be a bit of a shock to you finding out you'll be getting babied by me, but to be fair it's not like I ever thought you were into anything like this." Harry said, giving a warm smile. "I ..I um..See..Miles just offered me the job..and..I rolled with it..I-I thought you were married to Ron's little sister though? so what are yo-" "Doing playing around with a bunch of fetish bitches? Me and Ginny have a understanding, I can play with them but no sex and then she doesn't have to bark like a dog or wear nappies." Harry laughed. Draco nodded, that kinda made sense. "Um..I..I don't know if I feel comfortable with you..seeing me in.." Draco mewed softly. "Draco I thought we settled this. I paid for this,so you ARE going to be my stinky little nappy boy. I wasn't Joking about spanking you if I-" Whatever Harry was going to say was cut off as a pot of fear escaped from Draco's backside, making him shut his eyes and bury his face in his hands mortified. "heh, seems like you're more of a little boy then you thought if just the threat of a spanking can motivate you that much." Harry chuckled and then pulled Draco in for a one armed hug. "Not a little guy all the time." Draco whined, and KNEW how bad it sounded. "it's just a job!" "Mhmmm I'm sure. Well since it's just a job let's get started. I was told you'd bring you're own supplies?" Harry said, clearly not believing a word Draco said, and making him give a huff and a pout. Which really, wasn't helping his case. Draco got up off the bed and stormed over to his duffel bag and picked it up, bringing it over and dumping out it's contents. "See? only a professional would have THIS much of a selection to make for his customer!" he said, then the color drained from his face as Harry picked up the dress. "Heh, do i wanna ask?" Harry asked, holding it up. "..I'd prefer you not." Draco said in a small voice. "oh and plastic panties too~ How adorable! Sorry though Draco, I'm more into diaper BOYS. Maybe next time though." Harry said and winked and Draco found himself wishing he could melt into the floor. "T-That's ok." he mewed weakly. Harry chuckled and looking over the odds and ends made his choice. "Alright, I'm going to start the timer. any more attuide and it'll be you over my lap little man. Understand." Harry said, reaching for a timer that was on his nightstand. "Yes Daddy."

Now on the clock Draco waited for his first order from Harry. "Alright now little man, first things first, I think it's time you lost those silly big boy clothes. lord knows HOW you've kept your pants dry this long but I'm not losing from my damage despot when you tinkle all over the floor just because you wanted to play pretend and act like a big kid." Harry said. Draco nodded and slid his green t-shirt off first, then his blue jeans leaving him in a pair of blue briefs, though he paused for a moment to kick his pants and shirt away from him. "Awww, cute briefs, though too bad there's no print on them." Harry commented. "Lose' em." Draco bite his touage, Harry wasn't the first person to think he'd be adorable in animal prints or worse and he doubted he'd be the last, still it was a sore spot for him so he turned away as he slid the undies off to semi moon his 'daddy' and it was only with a stab of pain hit his cheeks he recalled about his diaper rash. "Ohhh I see why somebodies been a grumpy Gus! Poor widdle Draco has diapie rash!" harry said, sounding sympathetic but as Draco looked over his shoulder Harry was smiling ear to ear. "Is somebody not using enough nappy cream? or just sitting in his poopie nappies for ages because he likes the feeling?" "I..I do not! I just..I.." Draco fumed and went to go on a mini fit but BARELY caught himself before he'd earn a spanking. clenching his teeth he hissed though them. "My last client likes boys getting nappy rashes and didn't let me use power or cream if you MUST know daddy." "aww, don't worry! I'll use lots." Harry sand and then took 4 of the thickest terry cloth diapers Draco had and laid them out on a changing pad that was where a small rug had been. "wasn't there a rug there? what happened to it?" Draco asked, pointing and confused. "..Draco come on, we're wizards. what do you THINK happened?" "Oh..yeah.." feeling sheepish and covering his front with his hands Draco made his way over. (it wasn't that he didn't think harry wasn't gonna see them anyways, but LOTS of clients liked the all fake modesty bit.) "Lay on your tummy first so daddy can take care of your poor cheeks buddy and move your hands silly boy." harry said, taking a jar of rash cream from the pile and opening it. "Oh, the extra baby powder scent brand. very nice." "I..it's..what the customers like." Draco squeaked out, moving his hands and letting his 6 inches show though like a good boy he was bald down there. "Huh. that's cute." Harry commented seeing the larger then normal cock and Draco paused as Harry stared. "heh, just because I wear diapers for a living doesn't mean I'm tiny!" Draco said with a hint of pride. "And I'd agree except I know a enlargement charm when I see one." Harry said and snatched his wand up and in one swift motion, Draco's 6 inches because 1 and a half. "H-HEY! YOU CAN'T JUST" Draco yelped up, eyes having gone from wide in horror to filled with fury. "You know how much that bleeding cost to get done so it would stick around!?!" "Draco, one warning. attuide dropped or over my knee and a slipper on your buns." Harry said then added. "I'll give you a little extra to pay for your next charm." Draco clenched his fists but then took a deep breath, reminding himself he was a professional damn it then in a calm voice replied. "I can technicality end the session now potter..your not allowed to use magic on me without my consent. But I'll take you up on your offer." with that he laid himself down on the mat, with his buns up and turned away from harry. "of course admit it. you want someone to treat your owie bum." Harry said and then started to coat the cream on the boys back side. Having found his favorite black and green dummy on the mat, Draco just popped it into his mouth, not dignifying potter with a answer.

His bottom coated with cream and powdered, and then his front looked after too, Draco had to admit Harry had done a better job then he could of on his own and it was feeling much better as Harry pinned the thick nappies shut on him. Picking up a pair of clear rubber pants Harry smiled down at Draco. Lift your legs please little one." Draco suckled on his dummy and nodded, helping daddy slide them over his feet and ankles and then lifting up his bum without being told so daddy could get them part way up over the diapies. "Hmm, mighta gone too thick..or we just need to use a little gravity." Harry said. Before Draco could go to ask what he meant by that, Harry had lifted him up and was holding him up by the rubber pants. not wanting to fall backwards as harry semi bounced him, Draco whined behind his dummy and leaned forward, semi hugging Harry as he got the rubber pants over the diapers. "awww, I love you too~" Harry chuckled and standing Draco on his feet, kissed his cheek bringing a fresh blush to the blonds face. the dummy fell from Draco's mouth and while Harry caught it Draco started up again. "I-I don't, that's not! Look I just didn't wan-" Draco started to whine when the dummy was popped back in his mouth and despite himself he started to suckle on it again. "you don't have to be bashful with me little man. Lots of your fellow workers have started to swoon over me." Harry said. Draco huffed and glared, but kept the dummy in his mouth.

Harry smirked, Draco was just TOO perfect like this and such a fussy baby he hadn't even noticed that the dummy had been enchanted with a little charm used by parents who's infants/toddler were backed up but refused to take their medicine. the more Draco suckled the stronger the charm would get and with how huffy he was and the rapid suckling he was doing.. "what down you come take a seat on daddies lap and let him fondle that big fat nappy butt of yours?" Harry said and Draco squirmed like crazy but let himself be lead over. He was a little disappointed he hadn't had a chance to spank the little guys behind, he'd gotten a pair of slippers JUST for that, but then again the little guy had nappy rash. 'once it clears up though..' Harry thought with a grin. there was no way this was gonna be a one time thing,that was for sure. Sitting on the bed and Draco on his lap side saddle style, Harry smirked as the big baby (oh sorry, professional) put his armed around Harry's neck and leaned in with his head on Harry chest/shoulder 'God, who's falling for who here?' Harry wondered, a flush coming to his own face. "You know you really are too cute. I was going to make my nappy lad crawl around and humiliate himself, but with you, I'll just read you a story. would baby Draco like that?" harry asked. Draco nodded and smiled a little behind his dummy. "There's just Onnne little thing..you have to keep your dummy in. otherwise I'll have you making a got out of yourself. got it?" Harry added. again Draco nodded and Harry poofed a nursery book out of thin air and started to read.

Draco squirmed slightly as he sat in daddies lap. this was..well..alot nice then his normal clients treated him and he did indeed find himself maybe kinda slightly crushing on Harry, and it was giving him butterflies or something in his tummy. He closed his eyes and suckled on his dummy, listening to Harry read and enjoying the hand that kept patting on his Nappied behind. "-and then the big bad wolf..Heh, Still awake little one?" Came daddies voice and Draco opened his eyes and nodded, giving a smile from behind his dummy. "Just checking. If you wanna go for a little nap I can pause the timer, just let me know." Harry said then leaned down and kissed Draco's forehead. Draco squirmed, the idea f just going for a nap and then waking up to be babied more suddenly felt really tempting! Still it was better to get the job done and maybe just kinda hint he'd be open to a longer session next time. He wasn't even sure how much time was left, just that daddy had been reading to him and he'd gone into a total little state he wasn't used to. "You ready for me to go back t-" Harry started to say but then he was cut off as a loud but muffled poot escaped out Draco's behind, and warmed up Harry's hand. "oh, Is somebody about to make presents like a good boy?" harry asked. Thankfully the nappies cut down on the smell but Draco whined, something he'd eaten was NOT agreeing with him because that fart had been rancid! he reached up and removed his dummy and looked at Harry with a sheepish smile. "Uh..sorry,know that stinks I don-" He started to say but anther poot forced it's way out with gusto, almost hurting and harry laughed. "I think that answers if somebodies gonna make BM for daddy." he said then wrinkled his nose. "About time too from the smell of things little guy." "I-I swear I used the potty earlier today! I don't know why i-it's guhhh!" Draco cried out as a super wet fart erupted and he mewed. "M-Maybe we should reschedule this..this is gonna be toxic!" "oh no, it's ok, I don't mind a stinky boy. and I paid to have the whole floor to myself so no ones gonna complain." Harry chuckled and shifted Draco on his lap. Now instead of sitting side saddle he was back to Harry's front and his bum on Harry's right leg, with Harry holding his arms and kissing the back of his neck. Draco..wasn't exactly how he felt about al of this, normally he would of charged extra for the neck kisses but daddy was kissing and nibbling just in the right places. "oh! Oh!! Daddy!" Draco mewed like a little needy boy..no. a little needy BABY. "Be a good boy for daddy baby Draco, Make me a nice BIG present." Harry coo'ed into Draco's ear. Be a good boy. Jesus. just the words were driving Draco wild and his little nub was twitching as the command took hold and he started to grunt and push. "Y-Yesh daddy! I'll be a good boy! da bestest boy!" Draco cried out. His rosebud opened wide and muck rapidly poured out, filling up the seat of the nappies so fast that Draco also seemed to get taller! as the filth filled the diaper and the smell filled the room, Draco drooled and moaned as Harry went back to assaulting his neck with kisses. "Good boy Draco! Such a good big stinky boy!" Harry coo'ed. Draco mewed happily and kicked his legs, not even minding the smell or feel and only semi lifted himself up for a few to keep going and gasped as the muck started to fill the front of his nappy, coating his cock and balls. "Oh! Oh! Daddy i wuv you! I wuv going popie fer you!" Draco baby babbled on and as even as he farted and kept going. Harry chuckled and lifted the big baby up and turned him around, but still on his knee. "And I love you. now you almost done?" Harry asked. "Uhh.." Draco looked unsure and make a scrunchie face that had Harry biting his bottom lip and there was a few sputtering farts then nothing. "I fink so." "Good, who wants to play horise?" Harry asked with a loving smile. "Oh but da-da..dat'll make my BM go all over mah nappies." Draco said, biting his lip now. the sensation of being picked up and sat in his mess had been well..wonderful! "Don't worry about it. That's daddies job to worry about those things." Harry said and then kissed Draco on the lips, deep and hard and the little professionals mind and self control was gone as the kiss broke off. "So..Horise?" "hehehe ya ya! Horise daddy!" Harry smirked and getting Draco to hold onto his shoulder and putting his hands on the big babies sides, started to bounce him with his knee. gently at first but then picking up more and more speed as he went on. the smushing of the mess was having it's effect as Draco gasped and moaned and leaned forehead, face in Harry's chest as he was getting closer and closer to making a sticky in his diapers. it went without saying that he had flooded them though he couldn't be sure when and god he was just..so..close.. BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ! the ride stopped and Draco was trying to figure out what had happened and what was that noise, as daddy sat him on the bed. "Looks like our time is up buddy. But this was VERY fun. we should do it again sometime." Harry said., turning off the timer and kissing Draco's cheek. "Buh..buh..I was bot ta." Draco mewed and whimpered. "I know buddy, but like you said, your a professional. If you're free tomorrow night I would LOVE to book anther session." Harry said, chuckling at the look on the blonds face. "I..But..I.." Draco's mind was frazzled, and he was finding it hard to even think. "I put some extra gold in your diaper bag for you little guy.to cover you're penis enlargement charm. though i think a little cock looks better." Harry said, sweeping the baby stuff back in the duffel bag and handing it over to Draco. The blond was just so out of it, wanting more, so horny he barely realized he was being ushered out the door with his pleas of five more minutes ignored. A final pat on the butt and a kiss on the cheek and Draco was out in the hall and numbly made his way to the lift, thinking about how good being with potter had felt and how amazing he was. It wasn't till she stepped out onto the first floor and started to make his way into the lobby and heard a snort then lots of laughter he realized he'd forgotten to change back, and was still in just his soiled nappy and socks. "So I guess THAT'S your gimmick huh?" the clerk asked. "I..I..I'll be right ba-" Draco started to say but was cut off. "Ohhh Sorry. Mr.Potter has made it clear once one of his guest is back in the lobby, they're not to be allowed back into his room. Sorry sweetie, you'll have to go home like that." The clerk said, though her tone made it clear she was far more delighted then sorry. Whining loudly though happy that he kept his flat key in his duffel ba, the big stinky baby started the normally short but tonight long walk home.

the end

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