#maybe... maybe ill write something Original for once.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

when the art block hitteth

[perenlop]

journeys is one of the most disheartening pokeani arcs because you can tell they had a decent setup for it but also that they had no clue what they wanted to do and lost steam partway through

[autisticenbydonnie]

Love listening to music and randomly coming up with game changing oc ideas

Anyway, there's a point in time when Milldew hates the ninja turtles cuz he's paranoid that's Zeph will just join them and make a new family and leave it or Ivory behind.

[kedreeva]

When I was a kid, maybe 14 or so (which is, you know, 20+ years ago), I belonged to a Yahoo! mailing list for an anime called Gundam Wing. It was mostly populated by other teens, of varying ages, as it was started by a teen and her friends. Eventually it migrated, when Yahoo! groups started as forums, and even branched off into non-GW related stuff in a second forum.

One of the things I remember the most clearly is the oldest person in the group. Her name was Steelsong. She was a 40-something Dom with a sub whose name we knew even though we knew nothing else. She ran her own fanfic archive because the web was still handmade HTML and navigated in webrings and I’m pretty sure Google didn’t exist or was only barely, barely launched and not well known. She was kind and patient and we loved her. She treated everyone on the group with the respect given any adult, even though most of the rest of the world was still treating us like we were children. Not teenagers even, but children. She never once condescended to any of us, never made our youth a barrier to her respect, never treated us like we were incapable of being full people or like we were less than her because we were young.

I remember that she hosted our fanfiction, as absolutely terrible as it was (and I still have some of it, I am WELL aware of how cringingly terrible it is, just absolute nonsense garbage), right there alongside of other fic that was soul-achingly beautiful. Not a separate section for her friends or for kids, just right there like we were good enough to feature alongside other authors. I never once received crit from her that I didn’t ask for, only support. Only love. I am still writing today partly because Steel was so kind about our fic, fanfic and original.

I remember that when I started doing clay sculpture, she commissioned a tiny pair of dragons from me, to support me doing artwork. She sent a check my mom cashed for me, and my mom helped me mail it when it was finished. It broke in transit, and Steel assured me that she mended it and that it was still beautiful. It was a small gold dragon curled up with a small silver dragon.

I remember that her patience knew no bounds. I remember that she was there for us, regardless of reason. When we wanted to know silly things like what to do with a single AA battery, she answered. When we had serious questions about sex, she answered.  When we had questions about writing, she taught us. When one of our group members, a young gay teen in Australia, ended up in the hospital and then stopped making posts, and we all knew what had happened, she let us talk to her about it because we couldn’t go to our own parents, even though we had just lost a friend.

She was not a replacement to my parents, but she was an extra parent, in some ways. A friend, certainly, but someone that had been through more life than we had and was willing to pass on knowledge if we asked for it. Someone older that we trusted with things that were too uncomfortable to go to our parents or teachers or whatever about, because we already knew she wasn’t going to judge us or something, and that we would get an honest answer.

I don’t know why I’m remembering this so hard tonight, and I’m not sure if there’s a point to sharing this, except that I know she’s gone now. She was ill the last time we spoke, and her site went down a long time ago, and I miss her. She was a huge influence on my life, then and now. She was hope, for me, that life as an adult didn’t have to be boring, it wouldn’t have to mean giving up the things I loved and Becoming Only Responsible With No Fun. Her presence meant I had hope I could still write and play with friends even when I wasn’t ‘a kid’ anymore. And she’s gone, and I miss her, and I wanted to share her from the perspective of youth, and the perspective over twenty years later has provided me.

And I think of her, when people go off about older folks being in fandom with younger folks. I’m an older folks now, or at least middle aged folks because there are certainly folks older than me still, but I wasn’t always. I’ve been here since i was a younger folks, and I know how much Steel’s presence and support meant to me, how much she helped not just me but everyone on that group. And I think of the people saying older folks don’t belong in fandom, and that they shouldn’t interact with younger folks at all, and I just think... I can’t agree. I needed that kind of solid presence in my life back then and even at the age I am now, I need the folks older than me to stay. I want them here.

So I guess, like, if you’re here and you’re 40 or 50 or 60 or 70 or 80 or whatever, I want you here in fandom with me, still. Your presence here is a comfort. It is hope. It is a reminder that life will continue to be fun, even as I get older, myself. And if you’re younger and you have this sort of elder in your groups, I hope that they are like Steel. I hope they are kind and patient and supportive, and that knowing them gives you hope for your own future. I hope in twenty years you look back and remember them fondly.

[spacedace]

Continuation/blurb/snippet from this writing prompt.

It took less than a week to get custody of the Fenton children.

Oswald expected that it wouldn’t take long with his connections, but even that turn around is faster than what he expected. He'd anticipated pulling strings, greasing palms, maybe making some threats, but before he can even think of getting things moving to do so the paperwork is signed and a social worker is calling him to sort out the travel arrangements for the kids.

It's all done local, the judge, CPS, the witnesses and lawyers, each and every one calling the town home. Each and every one pushing the case through at a speed that Oswald didn't think was possible even in the most crooked of situations. He smelled conspiracy, but not - surprisingly - a malicious one.

Amity wasn't the smallest place in the world, but it was small enough. And the Fentons were public figures, though not in the way that Jack and Maddie Fenton obviously thought they were. How long had the people of Amity been watching things go wrong for the kids? How long had they been trying - in their own, limited ability - to help? Long enough to get desperate, seemed to be the answer.

The only resistance Oswald can find as he reviewed all the information he could get ahold of, was from the Mayor - Jazz and Danny's godfather, somehow more crooked than even Gotham's elected officials as far as Oswald could tell - and the Dr's. Fenton themselves.

The Mayor was summarily denied any influence of the case by the judge on the grounds of the long standing and publicly recorded ugliness of Master's relationship with Danny - which was something else Oswald was going to have to figure out. Along with all the…ghost stuff.

Oswald wasn't sure what to make of the ghost stuff.

Honestly he was leaving it for his people to figure out and wrangle into a reasonable explanation to report to him later. It was…something, a big something, and not - as he'd originally suspected upon initial cursory research into the town - a tourist gimmick or an overly high meta population. A later problem, provided he had to co tend with it at all once the children were officially in his custody in Gotham.

The biggest issue had been the kid's parents. Or really, the biggest issue had been the shady government agency backing the kids' parents.

The Fentons were the Ghost Investigation Ward's pet mad scientists. Creating weapons and genocidal plans - against ghosts - and generally tormenting the towns' living inhabitants just as much as the undead ones. The GIW had been protecting Jack and Maddie from any repercussions of their recklessness, and were willing to butt in on an unexpected custody battle in order to keep their maniacal golden geese happily working away.

From what Oswald had heard, a representative of the GIW had shown up to convince the judge to dismiss the case, but the judge had been faster. By the time the men in all white appeared - garish and tacky in their ill fitted, bulky suits - it had been too late of course. The judge had apparently anticipated their impending appearance and had made their ruling and had everything filed tidily late the night before. Courts did not typically stay running til three in the morning, but apparently an exception had been made.

There were a great many things wrong with Amity Park - wrong in a lot of ways they were in Gotham, wrong in ways they weren't - but the people that called the place home seemed to have come to a decision on one thing: the Fenton children were not safe, and unknown or not they were trusting Oswald to get them out of there.

It was strange and a little overwhelming, for an entire population that did not know him to see him as some kind of hope. Some kind of hero.

There were many, many things wrong in Amity Park.

He tried to assure himself when everything was said and done and the kids were packed and on their way that it wasn't his problem. He was officially Jazz and Danny's guardian, in a city half a country away that even with his - nominally- cleaned up act he held a great deal of power over. He was nearly untouchable within Gotham's shadow, and no one from some half-mad town was going to be able to do anything to change that.

He made preparations though, just in case. He hadn’t gotten where he was by being stupid. The Bat could use something to chew on that wasn't one of Oswald's entirely legitimate business ventures anyway. An ethically suspect government agency that was likely to come sticking their noses in Gotham's business sooner than later would do just nicely for that, and might even earn him some kind of grace from Gotham's brooding knight without getting him in hot water with any of the city's criminal element.

All that was left at that point was actually meeting the kids in person.

His kids.

He ignored the strange, bittersweet ache that touched his heart at that. It was, after all, entirely a means of improving his reputation in the city. The kids mean an end. He'd take care of him the same he did all his people, but not any more than that.

It was just business.

If he reminded himself enough, it might even be true one day.

He suspected though, as he laid eyes on them for the first time - shadow eyed and leery, haunted in a way that ghosts couldn't manage and looking not much at all like Oswald outside the fear and the pain he did his best to forget from his own upbringing - that the point of not caring had been passed the minute he'd gotten that first call.

*

Apologies if Penguin is out of character, all I know about him is what I vaguely remember from TAS, what I’ve absorbed from fandom and what I tried to put together from a wiki lol.

I did this instead of sleeping last night because I couldn’t get the initial idea out of my head (which slightly defeats the purpose of making it a writing prompt so that I could just read everyone else’s wonderful thoughts and writings on the idea instead of getting side tracked from my other writing projects - again lol - but oh well).

I don’t know if I’ll write anymore, and as with everything else I post this is open for anyone who is interested to run with.

Tag time!

@phoenixdemonqueen @justgray15777 @gin2212 @blankliferain @meira-3919 @lexdamo @hallowsden @derpygirl64 @thewondersoflebanon @amercurio @vythika96 @my-perfect-storybook-love @apointlessbox

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[soggyriceee]

Okay hear me out. König always thought he was a dom yeah, so when his darling asks to explore her oral fixation on his d!ck, he though keeping his promise (of not forcing it down her throat) would be hard.

Only, first few kitten licks and soft suckles on his tip and he starts whimpering, totally subby for her. And she just wants to explore :((( so she keeps just the tip in her mouth (reverse Just The Tip), giving it the attention it deserves.

König never knew he could come like that from just that.

- Beer anon 🍻

just the tip | Konig

summary: look above :p

| ok so ive been kinda obsessed with like.. pervy Konig and other cod characters as well so im just exploring that type of writing for a bit to see if you guys like it and me so, lmk if we want more perky Konig in the future :ppp

" come here maus.. tell me whats wrong." Konig said, leaning back in his chair, patting his lap. he watched as your straddle him, a smile on his lips. he pulls your pink skirt down, gripping your thighs after. "talk to me, whats wrong." he says softly, his other hand on your hip. you hear the game in the background, his friends through his headset yelling obscene words.

Konig had always seen you as his precious little girl. most would say he took advantage of your innocence, you say he was simply teaching you more about your body. your parents were extremely religious, the topic of sex never even coming up. not even in school. they put you in a religious school, blocking any chance of you learning about male or female pleasure. of course, you'd get curious in the night, your hand slipping down between your legs to touch whatever was throbbing between your legs. but you had no idea what you were doing, and nothing seemed to feel good. not until you met Konig of course.

you guys have never fully had sex, not fully at least. at night he would slip between your legs, pulling your night gown up. " just the tip" he'd whisper, pulling his dick through his underwear hole. you'd always been curious about his dick. like what was coming out of his tip when he'd pull it out his pants, or even when he'd pull out of you? why was it warm? why was it white? there were so many questions you had but were too scared to ask.

and he'd always finish on your cunt, never inside. he'd give maybe four thrusts before he'd pull out, gasping above you and jerking off until the white warm liquid would spurt onto your cunt. and he'd always tell you how pretty your pussy is, how one day hes gonna fuck you. but not now. not yet. but you always wondered what it was like to have him fully inside you. his tip alone was thick, and it was uncomfortable the first time he slid it in. the way your walls stretched out around him.

and every time you'd tell him about the throbbing between your legs, he'd happily set you on his leg, bounce you up and down until your body twitched on top of him, and you let out those pretty, high pitched moans while you gripped onto his shirt tightly. " schönes mädchen - pretty girl~" he would coo into your ear, rubbing your lower back as you came down from your orgasm.

"I uhm.. I am curious about something." you said softly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. he'd then lean forward in the chair, grabbing his headset. " hey guys, ill be right back. my girlfriend needs something real quick." he said, muting his mic and sitting back in the chair. he smiled back at you, tilting his head. " curious about what, maus?" he asked, hands placed back in their original spots. oh how he called you maus. it made the throbbing between your legs form so quickly.

you whimpered, shifting on his lap. you felt the semi bulge of him pressing right onto your cunt, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. " uhm y-your.. your dick.. I wanna try something." you said, never looking at him. he chuckled softly, lifting your head. " is that so?" he whispered, looking you in your eyes. you blushed and nodded, shifting once more. " c-can I put it.. in my mouth." you asked softly, looking away from his gaze.

you could've sworn he let out a whimper, his grip on your chin firming up. he shifted beneath you, smiling. " think you can take it all maus?" he asked, looking down between you both. his dick pressed firmly against your cunt now, the hardness of it applying the perfect pressure onto your clit. you nodded your head, the blush on your cheeks growing stronger. " i.. I can try." you whispered, gripping his shirt stronger.

he looks up, a smile on his face. "on your knees." was all he said, pushing you gently off his lap. his hands worked to pull his dick out of his pants, watching you the whole time. it bounced off his stomach when he pulled it from his underwear, his tip red with the same white substance pooling at the top. you swallowed, looking up at the size of him. it was a bit nerve wracking, and he divinely saw that. " just the tip" he said softly, reaching down to grab the back of your head.

he led you to his hard on, watching you. " open your mouth baby just a- there you go" he said, watching as your mouth opened wide for him. "stick your tongue out libeling." he said, gripping the base of him. he slapped his length on your tongue, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth. " just the tip.. come on." he whispered, guiding himself into your mouth.

he gasped when he felt the warmth and wetness of your mouth around his tip, his mouth falling open. his grip on the back of your head tightened, a soft whimper slipping past him when you looked up at him. " s-suck it libeling.. like a l-lollipop." he said, watching you from above. you hummed, your eyes moving down to look at the rest of what wasn't in your mouth. your tongue subconsciously pressed flat on the bottom of his tip, your head bobbing up and down just a bit, enough to give his tip attention alone.

his head fell back against the chair, his eyes squeezing shut. his hips so desperately tried to buck up further into your mouth, but he promised just the tip, as always. "ho-hollow your cheeks.. maus.. please." he whimpered above you, his mouth falling open once more. you did as he asked, hollowing your cheeks. he gasped out again, feeling every side of your warm mouth around his tip. his hands gripped his arms rests, his legs bouncing up and down as he tried to hold back his orgasm.

but you weren't done with him. you were having fun, watching how you pleasured him. it felt good. and it surely made your cunt throb. you felt your slick run between your thighs, a whimper coming from you. but you wanted more.

you pulled him out of your mouth, looking at his dick. he looked back down at you, confused. you leaned back forward, your tongue pressing flat on his tip. another whimper from above you. you assumed that it felt good for him, so you continued. your hand gripped his base, holding his dick still. your other found his thigh, holding onto it while your rested on the tips of your toes. " g-oddam maus.. fuck put it back in your mouth" he whined, watching how you traced your tongue around his tip. and you did just that.

you swallowed his tip back between your lips, looking back up at him. pretty whimpers left his lips, occasional growls as he watched you give his tip small bobs of your head around his tip. " c-cant take anymore.. oh my g-god" he cried out, his super body jerking forward. his hips thrusted up a bit, apologizes flying out his mouth. it was never enough for his whole length to slide into your mouth, but it definetly threw you off guard.

" keep going maus.. g-gonna cum..please~" he whined, watching how your eyes closed around him, both your hands wrapped around his dick now. his head flew back, back arching off the chair as you felt a warm liquid spurt against your tongue. you gasped around him, attempting to pull back but he was quicker. he gripped the back of your head, holding you in place. " s-stay there baby.. fuck please s-stay there." he whimpered, his hips bucking up once again.

it was a salty taste, warm too. you didnt know what to really do with it so, you swallowed it. it went down slimy, a small whimper coming from you. above you, Konig panted heavily, his grip on your head still firm. half of his dick was in your mouth at this point, and you honestly didnt mind. his eyes were closed, mouth ajar as the rest of his cum came out of him. " s..so g-good" he whimpered, opening his eyes slowly.

he looked down at you, seeing how full your mouth looked with just his dick. he smiled and pulled it out, watching the saliva string between your lips and his dick. "sorry." he whispered, smiling down at you. you shook your head and remained on the floor, looking up at him. " can.. can I do it again." you asked softly, hands going to grip him once more. a small whimper escaped from him, his eyes squeezing shut. " s-sure maus just give me a- fuck!" he cried out, feeling your lips back around his tip.

he opened his eyes,, watching you wrap your lips around his tip again. this time, your tongue swirled around the hole at the top of his tip, earning a loud whine from him. his body pressed back against the chair, his hips pulling back from you. " l-libeling please I just.. oh fuck~" he cried out, his head falling back. you didnt really know what came over you, or why you were so obsessed with this. but it was fun to be able to do something you've been thinking of for so long. especially when the outcome is this good.

it didnt taker long for Konig to feel that second orgasm coming up. his legs tensed up, his hands finding your cheek. " oh im cumming, im cumming I-im... fuck right there" he cried, his hips jerking forward into your mouth. he knew what he did but he couldnt help it. the way your mouth wrapped so perfectly around his tip, your tongue tracing small circled around his tip. it was like you'd done this before.

pretty little cries came from him as he felt his load shoot into your mouth again, quiet 'please' coming from him. you pulled away, the mix of saliva and cum stringing between your lips and his dick. your shirt was ruined too, drool completely covering the top half. his eyes were hooded, mouth ajar. his chest rose and fell slowly, his legs shaking beside you. you giggled at the sight, the roles now reversed. " n..no more.. please. cant take it." he mumbled, holding your shoulders back to stop you from wrapping your lips around him again. you giggled and nodded, standing to sit on his lap.

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. his head rested into your chest, taking in your scent. " so tired.." he whispered, pressing a kiss to your wet chest. " lets take a nap." you said softly, watching how he looked so small beneath you. kinda how you looked after he made you cum. but soft snored erupted from below you and you knew that he had fallen asleep. you giggled and ran your hands through his hair, sighing softly. " goodnight "

you knew it was wrong, but you couldnt help the throbbing between your thighs anymore. so, on his sleeping body you moved your hips back and forth on him, helping yourself to an orgasm as well.

omg I loved this request so fucking much!! and im so sorry it took this long to get out, life has been beating my ass. more requests coming out soon!

[simpletale-officiale]

INTRODUCTION!

SIMPLETALE is an AU that aims to parody undertale. while also giving it its own original twist, although its not just limited to undertale, as we also aim to parody other silly little bits of the multiverse. like underfell, underswap, heck. maybe even underverse! you can find some of the AU's included in the lineup drawn above, as well as in the descriptions for the askable AU's further on in this post

the AU uses old concepts for undertale, and some fanon misconceptions. to make a funny and entertaining story, but also one with worldbuilding and some slightly more serious bits. unfortunately we cannot show the rest of the cast for simpletale currently because that's spoilers and we want to keep it secret for later (;

(be sure to frequently check this post, as characters could be added to be askable in the future)

questions are not just limited to characters though, you can also ask us, the creators, questions about the production of simpletale, or even our own opinions on it! maybe even some questions about areas...? but ill be nice and give some suggestions. "whats your favorite thing about simpletale?" "whats your least favorite thing about simpletale" dont be shy, ask!

moving onto the characters.

the simple. the basics. the one and only's!

the simpletale bros!

sans- a rather cheeky, clumsy, and humerus fella. likes getting a laugh out of others, often through humerus actions, he ends up annoying the shit out of his brother a lot of the time, and they argue a lot, they love being brothers though, and most of the time they make up rather quickly. usually tries to speak as little as possible and be as straight to the point as possible. has a fast food addiction

papyrus- a bumbling perfectionist imperialist. believes himself to be superior to others, even when in a low position of power, he was accepted into the guard because..... they needed someone to do the paperwork, dogs ain't that good for writing. despite this he believes himself to be the most important and supreme member of the guard, despite the most important thing he does being signing the occasional tax document or punting a trespasser (usually just random preteens) 20 feet into the air. a bit of a narcissist with a sailors mouth but he does actually care for the people in his life, despite coming off so rude most people find him annoying though ):. basically papyrus autism thrown to a hundred. banters with sans often when he tries to knock papyrus ego down a peg. tries to act menacing, but hes really just an 80's cartoon villain goofball. cooks the most delicious food you will ever taste, we let bro cook for a REASON.

the simpled is swapped?

the simpleswap bros!

they started out exactly like simpletale sans and papyrus, but decided to parody each other for shits and giggles, and then got all their friends along, which created simpleswap. their personalities are a bit altered from the simpletale brothers due to reasons but their whole swapped personality thing is a gag and they might break character once you say something outlandish or spook them.

papyrus- apathetic, and a bit apolitical with almost everything. started smoking weed to parody sans fast food addiction but actually started smoking it regularly, so hes like.... high. always. once you get through his apathetic and at times, cold and careless character, he can be surprisingly kind and humble, honestly a pretty decent guy. finds his old self cringey and dumb. works as an accountant on the side, cooks pretty tasty food, and often makes tasty weed brownies????

sans- cheeky, energetic, and plays this character of perfection to parody papyrus narcissism, think of the character of perfection kind of like how liquid chris works, effectively doing anything papyrus did, but better. still tries his best to get a laugh out of everyone, hes in better shape then simpletale sans and is overall more athletic, playful and energetic, takes the whole parodying eachother thing less seriously then his brother. him and fellsimple sans are best pals

their bold, their brash, they certainly dont belong in the trash, an-OUCH I FELL AND BROKE MY FUCKING KNEEES-

fellsimple.

this one goes slightly more heavy into parodying fanon

sans- has anger issues, plays up this role of being a punk, "fuck the government" "acab" "i dont believe in consistency" you get the point, a bit of a greedy fuck, loves gold, as well as sharp stuff and gold, he has some.... taboo fetishes like hes probably into bdsm. being the only one out of the skeletons to not be asexual as well as being the only one to be straight. rides a motorcycle, but likes trucks more, probably secretly works with trucking, simpleswap sans is his best friend and he loves to drink with simpletale sans, tough attitude, but is secretly just as silly as the others.

papyrus-has a job as a guard but ends up skipping most of the time because the guards are pretty horrible people and they make him pretty stressed, likes books and philosophy, probably plays this fake role of an evil, heinous guard at work, if ever does it that is. hes a real cheapskate compared to sans, but will buy good books or vinyl albums at a high price if he feels their high enough of quality. hes shy compared to the other papyruses.

sans

....aaaand error.

a bit of a sleazy fella with a PLAN. he doesnt destroy aus here but does more heinous stuff, like rob banks in AU's, make illegal businesses or currencies, clash with rival gangs, and occasionally fights with ink (although their relationship is very sexual, parodying the fanon misconception that errink is canon) ask him the right questions, and he might even bring some of his gang members along to answer (; his personality is somewhat apathetic, but he always has a PLAN!!!!!! AND YOU CANT FIGHT NATURE JOHN......

NOW, THE FIRST ERROR GANG MEMBER!

killer: nickname: assassin has been unlocked!

coming from an alternate timeline of simpletale where sans got bored? varisk (frisk replacement) decided to mentally manipulate him into thinking that robbing and killing is a better option then doing nothing. and pays him for it eventually papyrus was killed in crossfire and sans murdered varisk, the pin on his jacket is a soul, but souls are useless in the simpleverse, blood is much more valuable. he's a silent but professional skeleton. cares deeply about his boss and coworkers.

EXTREMELY good with firearms as well as chains. its hard for him to move his mouth, so its almost always locked in a constant smile the liquid that leaks out of him is like an oil like substance, touching it for too long burns your skin, its incredibly cold though. he's ruthless and aggressive in battle and is often the tank/brute in whatever operation dysfunct has going on. usually smug and professional, but can also be very gentle around those he deems friendly enough.

picked up by error after an.... incident in his au.

the nightmare and dream brothers!

nightmare: claims to have been "betrayed" by his brother (dream stole his sandwich) believes dream causes all his misfortunes and bad luck moments. kind of acts like a spoiled rich kid with a military obsession. started the gang by feeding into errors idea of a free multiverse, where there are no governments and an independent existence for everyone. a world with anarchy and fun. he can be a good manipulator at times, but is all bark no bite. pretty cringe, both him and his brother claim to be "gods" but in truth, their both mutations/byproducts of the simpleswap universe "glitching" creating this disgusting blob and a ball of light (think like sans bad time eye) inside of a husk body. both are amortal and seek to destroy the other, or at least piss each other off for as long as possible.

dream: LOVES shit talking about his brother plays this role of an innocent cutesy kind emperor, when he is everything opposite to that, except for emperor I guess. he is an emperor. believes causing nightmare misfortune will bring him luck in some form (it doesn't, but hes too stupid to realize) if he gets the chance he would probably torture and give his enemies a VERY painful, but quick death. he wants his brother to be at the bottom of life, the worst point in his life, before he plans to KILL. speaks in a very Shakespearian way. is a snobby fuck. not really greedy. but will do ANYTHING in his power to make his enemies die the most painful death he can give them. not cruel to his people, but gaslights them a lot. claims what he does is for the "greater good" acts nice, and very kind to his "friends" but would betray them the moment he finds anything better. the type of guy to give you puppydog eyes after burning down your house

AND ME!!!

thanks to kyne for activating my dastardly plan to take over this tumblr, im not just gonna be thrown away as a simple outcast at that pub anymore, im fuckin important goddamn it!!!!!

i also may edit the intros a bit add my own flare you know but the importance is i am now your stand in if you ask anyone thats in the multi-bar!!!!

bio: 404 was born omnipotent, automatically more powerful then all the other simpletons. he would become aware of how through an alternative reality known as the prescratch timeline where that version of him speaks of what he was destined for. nobody believes him however and that bitch error keeps harassing me about talking shit well guess what whore i dont fucking need you anymore because ive found myself somebody who won't just use me and then throw me away when its most fitting fuck you never talk to me again bitch

liks: chaos, delinquency, anarchy, NOT following the rules, 100 gecs (the one with the stupid horse), being powerful, super transformations, hyperpop, chains, gold, copypastas, big hot strong men that could absolutely penetrate me hard, 100 gecks (literally, i have 100 of them as pets and its awesome!!!), flexing, being totally dripped out, colors associated with errors, busting it down (gay kind not cool kind)

dislinks: order, rules, politics, leaders, having to follow instructions, horror sans from the evil guys fuck you you stole my place on that group which im not that upset about anymore after realising they all suck anyways but i still hate you because you refuse to actually fight and keeps saying random quips everytime youre on screen like actually shut the fuck up, gex, women because im severely femalephobic and extremely homosexual so they terrify me, error (cheater and liar dont ever trust him with anything), ink who stole my man with her fuckin cursed woman parts and apparently in the prescratch timeline everyone calls her mommy????? kinda sussy BUT THE SIMPLEVERSE IS LIMITLESS! Because there is a multibar just down the road > (https://simpletale-officiale.tumblr.com/post/727125546167828480/farm-sans)

CREDITS

Undertale by @fwugradiation

Underswap by popcornprince and @underswapped3

Underfell by @underfell

error sans by @loverofpiggies

Killer sans by @rahafwabas

Dream and nightmare by @jokublog

Sigh.... 404 by.... @vibeless15

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

hiii i’m sorry i actually can’t remember if i sent this before or not😭could you maybe write smth with eddie getting an innocent reader high for the first time? <3

(hi angel !! u havent sent this before so <33 hope u enjoy!! *sorry if this kinda sucks i wrote it at like three am KDSJF)) (also i wrote about her smoking for the first time but i didnt touch much on her getting high really.. if u want me to write just that lmk!!)

✧˚₊‧ 🧸 ✧˚₊‧

eddie originally invited u over to his trailer because he mentioned how he was failing math and needed ur help studying. of course, you complied, wanting to help him (and spend time with him as youve had a crush on him for months) (and of course he didnt actually want ur help studying, he just used that as an excuse to hangout with u as he has had a crush on u for a good two years).

but now, after helping him study for a good hour, he declared he needed a break. this break included him playing some of the most intense music youve ever heard posing as 'background music' whilst he smoked a rolled blunt.

he asked you if u were comfortable with him smoking in the same room as you, and because u were a curious creature (never being around any sort of drug), you nodded, saying you were fine with it.

eddie thought you were odd, in a good way of course. god, he wanted you so badly..but he didnt want to scare you off. he knew how sensitive you were to certain things. so when you sat right down in front of him as he smoked, staring at him with gloriously curious doe eyes, watching him take a drag from his joint--he was surprised to say the very least.

eddie watches the way youre eyeing the joint between his plush lips as he inhales, eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you sitting across from him on his bed; kneeling on his mattress--hands folded in your lap politely n ur eyes full of wonder but hesitancy as u chew on ur lower lip. you watch the metalhead blow the smoke from his mouth, an arm behind his head as he lies back against his pillows.

"you wanna try?" he asks, holding the joint out to you as he blows the smoke up in the air. he can feel the way your eyes trace his movements.

you giggle nervously, flustered. "o-oh, uhm, i dunno.. 've never tried such things before!"

thats something else eddie loved about you.

when you got shy you talked like some sort of disney princess.

he smirks, amused. his eyes are half lidded n red as he swipes his tongue along the fat of his bottom lip.

"c'mon.." his voice is playful. "'see the way ur eyein' it, princess.. i'll help you through it, dont worry." eddie takes a small drag from the end of his blunt once more.

fuck, hes so high. and horny. high and horny. maybe not the greatest combo when the girl he's liked for years is sitting right in front of him looking so..soft and beautiful.

does ur skin always glow this vibrantly?

"i just--'ve never done stuff like this. what if i act funny?" your lips form into a pout, concern lacing in ur features.

why did you have to be so cute and irresistable?

"'s okay, angel. promise i wont judge..could never judge a sweet girl like you," his praise makes you preen as you blush. "c'mon, come sit next to me, ill talk ya through it, mk?"

you nod, butterflies fluttering in ur tummy. besides the heavy smell of weed, eddie smelled so yummy to you. he was addicting to be around.

you sat next to him on his bed, pulling ur skirt down a bit as you get comfortable.

"now, just put ur lips around the end and inhale, okay? u might cough a bit but it'll go away," eddie brings the lit joint to ur glossed lips as ur eyes round with inexperience. the metalhead maintains eye contact with u as u inhale sharply, immediately bending forward and coughing as he pats ur back. "'s okay, princess, ur okay.." his ringed fingers rub ur back as u struggle to breathe.

a few seconds pass and u feel better. ur head is light but heavy.

"wanna try again? should've probably told u to inhale slowly..forget u dont know much about this stuff." he tucks a loose strand of hair behind ur ear and u feel ur heart speed.

u nod. "yes, please!"

eddie smiles gently at your eagerness. "alright, sweet girl, remember..nice n easy, okay? inhale gently and slowly."

you nod a bit as he brings the joint to ur lips. his left hand rubs up and down your right arm comfortingly. that act alone makes the butterflies that once only fluttered inside ur belly swirl into a storm.

eddie watches ur lips as u inhale slowly.

"good, baby.. nice n easy, okay? doin' so good.." his voice is so soft and gentle as he tenderly squeezes ur arm as u blow the smoke from ur lips.

u giggle when done, clapping excitedly before you're hit with a wave of tranquility.

eddie smiles. "u okay, honey?"

u smile back.

u were more than okay.

[l0cal-catb0y]

Hero!Ghoap x God!Reader brainrot

Had some insane brainrot while listening to music, this is going to be word vomit but like, i have to share it w/ yall and i didnt read this back so it may be a lil wonky (first cod post too wow) idk man its bad but whatever

Reader being a lesser known god who only has a few shrines and a tiny group of worshippers and hero!ghoap being incredibly well known and strong fighters who stumble across one of your shrine while looking for a place to rest. maybe it's abandoned or something but while theyre resting they investigate you and your history and end up leaving you some offerings for letting them have safety while healing up. Maybe you get a little excited cuz the heros all the gods are talking about are leaving you gifts!! just for being kind!! hehe you send them a sign that you are watching over you and helping them as much as you can even after they leave your shrine to continue their journey <33 you only have a few followers so you can actively pay attention to ghost and soap unlike the other gods who are so so busy. Ghost notices first that youre always watching over them when he starts seeing your associated animals and plants everywhere they go (can be whatever you want but im picturing a type of bird) and ghost feels unsure if its actually you but after it becomes a pattern he points it out to Soap who had a feeling they were being tailed as well. Now they start gathering little trinkets after their battles and leaving them in places that remind them of you like flower fields or by rivers. I feel like soap would become such a devoted follower so quickly while ghost is still a little wary, he doesnt know your intentions and there is barely any information about you out in the world. I think a few weeks or months later ghost would join soap in being one of your most devoted followers. I feel like they would create you an altar near where you live or move closer to the original shrine they discovered you at <33

also thinking about how they would react if you disappeared, specifically a war broke out between the gods and you get gravely injured and in a panic descend to earth by the boys' shrine before passing the fuck out. just the boys showing up to leave offerings but seeing you bleeding out on the altar, they both rush to you can try to stabilize you the best they can from experiences when patching each other up,,, once they clean you up they bring you back to their home and placing you in their bed, they sit next to you discussing what the fuck happened and who they have to hurt to get you justice.

maybe ill write more later but yeah hope yall liked my mess of an idea

[chuuyasheaven]

Chuuya’s NSFW Alphabet

Summary; Nsfw Alphabets with a twist! (basically using the letters of his name)

Warnings; nsfw stuff, lazy?, rushed, typos, etc.

Notes; Instead of working on the event I’m writing this..I SWEAR ILL GET THIS OFF MY CHEST AND I WILL GET BACK TO WRITINGGG!!! For some letters there might be nothing coming up in my brain rn so yea enjoy! (p.s: This was from 1-2 weeks ago..also this isn’t the original from this idea! Enjoy ‼️🤗)

C = Cum

I think it’ll taste somewhat sweet, like it has a sweet aftertaste. I also think he cums a average amount, maybe more sometimes, might be rare, though.

H = Hair

He’s decently groomed, i guess, there might some little hairs growing back (if I’m right). But, seems decent and clean enough!

U = Unfair (I’ll use one ‘u’ for my sake..)

Is Chuuya a tease? I mean, kinda if you think about it. If you were a brat, he’ll tease you to rile you up a little. In a normal ‘love-making’ scenario, he actually doesn’t, only if he wants to see you beg.

U = Use of toys

Personally, i don’t think he’ll use ‘em, he’s quite possessive, y’know? But he might try them once in a while!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I like to think that it’s a little over average, i don’t have anything else to say.

A = Aftercare

AFTERCARE KING!! He’ll treat you like royalty after, brings you something to drink, makes you a bath, maybe cook for you, anything that will make you comfortable!

N = No

Anything with piss or vomit. Also, he won’t do anything that might hurt you in the slightest. Daddy kink is a no-no. (Sorry, but why call him something he doesn’t have?)

A = Anal Sex

Personally, i don’t even like anal sex, but if you’re a guy or into it, might do it.

K = Kink

Probably brat taming, hear me out, Chuuya most likely spoil you ALOT. So, you might gain a bratty attitude, he must remind you who’s in charge here! Also a big sucker for praise.

A = - (idk 🥲)

H = Hair pulling

He’s into it, recieving or giving, i guess. Just don’t pull too hard. He might pull your hair while you give him head, though.

A = (I’m not that creative...so idk)

R = Risk(s)

Would he do it in public? Nah, he might let you cockwarm him or suck him off in his office, but other i don’t know.

A = - (atp it won’t matter)

HOPE YOU ENJOYED (kinda)

[mylovelies-docx]

Sorry, I Love You - Part 6

It's my birthday, so here is my gift to all you lovely people :)

Plot: You and Bucky have a good thing going - best of friends that also have more than a little chemistry between the sheets. Everything is fine until you develop feelings for the man who doesn't want a relationship. What will happen when Bucky finds out?

C/W: brief mentions of HYDRA approved "science", insecurities

Word Count: idk ill look later

Tag List: NOW CLOSED! If you'd like to keep up with this story, please follow my blog and turn on notifications! ❤️ you :)

[Prologue][Part 1][Part 2][Part 3][Part 4][Part 5]

Meeting with the contact goes down without a hitch. You’re surrounded by scraggly trees and evergreens, snow heavy on bare branches and pine needles alike. You’re briefed on all the important information: who’s who, ongoing projects, expectations for your work. You nod along as you write down shorthand notes – really only intelligible to you, but you’ll burn them once you memorize the information regardless.

The rendezvous is short, but you’ll be seeing them again soon at your new ‘job’. You flip your notebook closed and dip your head briefly to acknowledge the end of the meeting. Olaf (not his real name) returns the gesture and stalks off, presumably heading back to the HYDRA facility.

You take your time getting back to the house – you want to give Bucky his privacy and time by himself to prepare for the workday ahead. You envy the monotony of working on vehicles all day: scouring the engine, finding the necessary parts, sliding under the metal frame and lying on your back for hours… 

Come to think of it, maybe you shouldn’t imagine lying on your back for hours in the same thought process that involves Bucky. Too many memories and too much pain.

Regardless, anything is better than working for HYDRA, even if you are actively working to sabotage them while you’re there. Yeah, Bucky is here to keep an eye on you and provide backup and know-how, but you’re the one that is pivotal to this mission. The one that needs to get in, get out, and get gone before HYDRA realizes how big of a mess they’re in.

You begin fine-tuning the personality and mannerisms that will serve you best here. Olaf had explained the specific work culture of the HYDRA facility during the meeting, so you’re now better able to imagine your life for the foreseeable future: work, work, work, kidnapping, torture, experiments, exhaustion. 

And going home to Bucky every night, your brain supplies. You mentally swat the words away. Of course you’re going ‘home’ to Bucky. He’s your immediate backup in case something goes wrong – he has to be close. Even if it’s not the intimate kind of close. Not the kind of close you used to be when this mission was first given to you last year. Not the close that originally had you posing as husband and wife, but the kind that now has Bucky as your brother.

A shiver courses through you at the thought, and you wrap your arms tighter around your snuggly bundled self. Bucky as your brother is the worst scenario you could possibly imagine, but everyone agreed that with the new tension between you and Bucky, romance wouldn’t be the wisest play up here.

A soft groan leaves your lips and you dip your head quickly in disappointment before popping back up and looking ahead. There’s no point in yearning for something that will never happen again. You need to actually move on, not just lie about it and pretend like you did. Bucky deserves that much. You deserve that much.

Taking a deep breath, you shift your focus back to the mission. It’s time to embrace the role, leaving behind the echoes of a love that was now confined to memories. You couldn't afford distractions or longing. HYDRA's demise depended on your unwavering commitment, even if it meant burying your heart's desires in the depths of your being.

***

You arrive home a short while later, the creaks and groans of the old house underlying the silence of the empty rooms. It seems that Bucky had left for work while you were out. Glancing over to the clock atop the fireplace mantel, you're taken aback to see how much time has passed. You must have been lost in your thoughts far longer than you had initially realized. 

You close the door softly behind you and shuffle out of your coat. You hang it on a peg beside the door where your and Bucky’s other coats reside, noticing how well the colors reflect both of your personalities. You can’t help but laugh at the blacks, grays, and dark blues of Bucky’s jackets that contrast sharply with the whites, pinks, and pastels of your own. The smile lingers until you kick off your boots and walk further into the quiet house.

The echoing silence pulses in your ears and makes you uncomfortable. You hadn’t been alone like this in a very long time – there was always at least one person in the next room or house or building that you could reach out to. But with Bucky at his ‘new job’ and no neighbors knocking on the door to welcome you to the neighborhood, you feel totally isolated.

With nothing else to do besides wallow in loneliness, you decide to throw on some music and dive into all the information the team has gathered on this HYDRA location. You’d skimmed the files on the way here yesterday, but now you had the time to really peruse. You run upstairs to change into comfortable clothes and throw your hair up and away from your face. You return downstairs and pull out your laptop, setting up camp at the kitchen table. You open your favorite music streaming app and hit play, starting up your ‘get shit done’ playlist. You bop your head to the beat and dig in.

***

Hours later, you hear the door creak open and Bucky steps inside, his face smudged with grease and a tired smile on his lips. You rise from your hunched position and stretch your aching muscles. The pain in your upper back and neck eases slightly as you greet him, "Hey, Bucky. Welcome back. How was your day at the garage?"

Bucky wipes his hands on a rag, glancing at you with a mix of exhaustion and genuine warmth. "Oh, you know, the usual. Fixing engines, tinkering with parts. It's a nice change of pace from our usual gigs."

You nod, attempting to keep the conversation light. "Well, at least you get to put your mechanical skills to good use. It must feel good to work with your hands again."

A brief moment of silence hangs between you as you both glance down to Bucky’s hands. His metal arm is covered by Stark tech that makes it appear as if he’d never lost it in the first place. You can tell how uncomfortable he is with the sight after working so hard and so long on learning to accept himself the way he is now. He picks at the fake skin, pulling it slightly away and letting it snap back into place. Bucky clears his throat, his voice a touch hesitant, "It doesn’t quite feel right, ya know?"

You shift in your chair, tucking your leg up under you. "No, I get it, Bucky," you say. “Doesn’t feel like you, does it?” You give him a smile and a small shrug of your shoulders, as if what you’re saying is common knowledge and an opinion that everyone shares, “If you ask me, I prefer the metal.”

Bucky's eyes soften and he stops fidgeting with the skin, letting his arms drop down to his sides. “Yeah,” he agrees, “me too.”

You nod, trying to hide the warmth swelling in your chest. "Anyway," you begin. “I’ve been going over the data that you guys have gathered in the last few months. There’s a lot here, huh?”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs and walks over to you, taking the chair opposite and stretching out his legs underneath the table. His feet encroach on your space and nearly rest underneath your chair, the table not really accommodating for his size. You pick up the one leg you still have dangling off the chair and tuck it under you with the other one. Bucky places his hands behind his head and leans back. “All of my memories of this place are hazy, but this place was a real piece of work.” A grimace mars his face and his eyes start to cloud over.

Wanting to shift the conversation away from the discomfort he may be remembering, you change the subject, "So, did anything noteworthy happen at the garage today? Any signs of HYDRA activity in the town?"

Bucky's eyes shift with a sense of purpose, grateful for the chance to discuss something less complicated. "Actually, there was something unusual. I overheard a couple of guys mentioning some military-grade vehicles arriving tomorrow for inspection. Might be worth investigating to see if they’re HYDRA."

As you delve into mission-related details, a sense of normalcy descends upon the conversation. The awkwardness and unspoken emotions linger in the background of your mind, but for now, the focus is on the task at hand. You understand that the mission takes precedence over personal matters, and you commit again to putting aside your feelings for the sake of success and Bucky’s peace of mind.

With a renewed determination, you delve into strategizing and planning, resolute in your shared mission to dismantle HYDRA's operations. 

Part 7

@jackiehollanderr @rabbitrabbit12321 @12345sebby @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @lauraashley93 @themorningsunshine @happinessinthebeing @nash-dara @calwitch @stany0url0calwh0res111 @pono-pura-vida @learisa @introverbatim @kentokaze @marvelogic @kaz11283

[in1-nutshell]

Hello! I want to know how do you update so fast?! Like— you update once a day at the very LEAST! What is your secret and how can I be as productive as you?

And anyways, other than that, do you mind doing a TFP bot buddy who got a very sickly and frail frame, and who had once been a Decepticon without choice (like maybe they were raised as a sparkling by the Decepticons or something), but recently they had joined the Autobots because they knew the Autobots were doing the right things. And it had been a pretty smooth ride since, cause Buddy hadn’t been able to been on the battlefields much due to their sickness, only working in the background tech, so they luckily didn’t have much conflicts with any members in particular.

However, due to being often neglected, and even humiliated, back when Buddy was with the Decepticon for their illness, Buddy had developed a habit of hiding off their illness, and Buddy promised themself that they would never let the Autobots find out about their physical state, in the fear of slowing the Autobots down and facing the same humiliation again. And Buddy just genuinely don’t believe their illness was important enough for any concerns and attentions, anyways, expecially in the face of a war, after the years of being neglected. So they just kind of pretends to be invisible, retreat into a corner, and hope to be forgotten whenever they were sick again.

However, they couldn’t hide the sickness forever since it would just get worse. And, the Autobots, as well as the human children, would soon teach Buddy that they were safe to ask for help here, and the ages of neglection and mistreatment was behind them now.

To be honest, I don't have much advice on how to create a writing schedule. You need to experiment with something that might work for you depending on your schedule. If anything, try and have little goals to reach.

Frail Buddy needs some love from everyone.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy the Ex-con who is sickly ill with Ratchet, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead

SFW, Bit of Angst but it gets better, mentions of illness and collapse, nothing graphic or detailed, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

It had always been a hard life for Buddy.

With their illness that always left them drained of energy as well as being bit frail framed. They sent many mechs into a spiral into laughter whenever they told them that they were once a Decepticon.

Of course, it wasn’t a personal choice.

Their entire family unit had been a part of the Decepticon unit for years. They were the true definition of ruthless Con’s, but they had a soft spot for Buddy.

“Hey twig move it. Your frames taking up space.”—random Con

Roughly shoves Buddy into a wall.

Their family unit within a 10-mile radius suddenly filled with a sudden urge to hurt someone.

They cared about Buddy truly, but Buddy was they only one who had enough common sense to realize that the original goal was long buried. Now the cause wanted power, not equality.

They made their daring escape after hearing that all of their family had been offlined in a freak accident with Starscream. There were never any accidents when someone went offlined on Starscream’s watch. Buddy never found out why their unit was offlined, and part of them wanted it to stay that way.

When the Autobots first saw Buddy stumble on their base they thought Buddy was some Neutral that had come to join. Definitely not some dirty Decepticon.

It took a while for the team to get used to Buddy.

But after time and the usefulness of their communication and decoding skills, they earned their spot-on Team Prime when the group had departed to Earth.

Buddy never told the team the true extent of their illness. All the team knew was Buddy was framed differently and just naturally got tired.

Ratchet was extremely amid to Buddy to have a full checkup, but Buddy had been dodging the medics for years. They were a pro at this point.

“All right Buddy it’s your turn.”--Ratchet

“Are you sure? I mean Bulkhead is looking a bit—”--Buddy

“No, I’ve already checked on him and you’re the last one on the list.”--Ratchet

“Well—”--Buddy

The alarm goes off.

“Guess we’ll have to put a pin in this for a bit. See you later Ratchet!”--Buddy

“Buddy—Never mind I’ll get to you in a bit...”--Ratchet

Buddy always went last and always placed a modified version of their results in the system.

But Ratchet was starting to pick up on this trail.

Buddy had made friends with Bumblebee and Bulkhead in their early years on Team Prime.

Buddy was a bit hesitant to even be in the same room as the Wrecker.

Not because they hated him or anything.

It was that he was so clumsy, and they were a bit fearful that one day he was going to swipe at them by accident then they would be staring at the Well of the Allspark.

But gradually through some force company, the two turned out to have a rather nice friendship. Mainly on good heart teasing and time spent together on the comms.

Bulkhead could never have imagined that he would be friends with someone that looked like they would go down with a sneeze.

“Hey, Buddy you okay?”--Bulkhead

“Yeah? Why you ask?”--Buddy

“Well, you usually look like you can be taken down by my wrecking ball with one swing. Not today though.”--Bulkhead

“Bulk most mechs that end up behind your wrecking ball end up on the ground, I’m no different.”--Buddy

“Yeah, but today you look like you can go down with me applying a bit of pressure on your helm.”--Bulkhead

“Bulk no offense you don’t exactly don’t know how much strength to apply on certain things.”--Buddy

“Like what?”--Bulkhead

Buddy holding a mangled tool.

“Did I make my point?”--Buddy

“I guess… Can you at least see Ratchet?”--Bulkhead

“I’m perfectly fine Bulky. Don’t worry that helm of yours over me.”--Buddy

“Okay…”--Bulkhead

He wouldn’t question it, besides medicine wasn’t his fortitude.

Bumblebee and Buddy got along like a housefire.

It stemmed from Bumblebee being one of the few mechs wanting to get to know Buddy when they first came.

Buddy naturally latched on to the only kindness they had been shown in years.

Their friendship went on from there.

Bumblebee and Buddy have been scolded multiple times for having weird conversations on the comlines and forgetting sometimes to use their private lines.

“What do you think about the ending of the series?”--Buddy

“Beep bep bopbop bop (It was pretty decent, kind of wished there was more to it.)”--Bumblebee

“Yeah, it did feel anticlimactic. I wonder if there’s going to be another season?”--Buddy

“If you two don’t mind, everyone can hear you.”--Ratchet

He also worried a bit for Buddy’s frame at least, it looked… frail?

Buddy would always brush it off and even point to the stats.

Inner work being perfectly normal.

Bumblebee was still skeptical over it but… if the stats are correct then it shouldn’t be a problem.

Buddy was soon faced with another challenge, the humans.

Not that they were a problem, Buddy loved their new little organic friends. But sometimes they would get a little too close to the truth Buddy had been trying to hide.

Especially after June and Agent Fowler had been temporally kidnapped by Buddy’s former doctor and nurse: Knockout and Breakdown.

Now Buddy had no problems with either doctor or nurse.

In fact, they were one of the only two Con’s Buddy could respect.

Of course, they knew about Buddy’s illness.

There was only so much you could do to hide it from two mechs that always reviewed their patients, especially when it came to framework.

“Hmm… you have new denting on your sides today.”--Knockout

“Oh yeah, don’t worry about it.”--Buddy

“No, I want to know who tarnished my work.”--Knockout

“Is someone messing with you Buddy? Cause if they are—”--Breakdown

“It’s fine! Really guys it nothing! I feel fine!”--Buddy

“Look Breakdown in the optics and repeat what you said.”--Knockout

“… It was the new recruit… he shoved me into the cavern wall with a mining cart.”--Buddy

“…Good to hear, now if you’ll excuse me, I need to have a word with someone.”--Breakdown

“That mech is not going to be able to walk for a week.”--Buddy

“A month with a limp.”--Knockout

“Knockout.”--Buddy

“Fine! Two weeks with a limp.”—Knockout

Knockout had captured Fowler and June and had been talking to Breakdown when Breakdown asked him out loud to ask how Buddy was holding up with everything.

The two humans perked up hearing this.

They both had a rundown about Buddy being a con for a bit but nothing else.

“Hey Fleshy! The nurse one! You’ve heard of our ex-comrade, Buddy, right?”--Knockout

“And if we have?”—June

“June—”—Agent Fowler

“… From one medic to another, how are they holding up?”--Knockout

“What?”--June

“Oh, don’t you act all surprised. Buddy must have told you about their framework and inner works by now. I’m asking if they are all right.”--Knockout

“…”—June

“… They haven’t told you?”--Knockout

“…”--June

“Fine be like that. I didn’t care anyways.”--Knockout

“…They look like a gust of wind could bring them down lately…”--June

“June!”--Fowler

“…Thank you… June. Breakdown!”—Knockout

“Yeah?”--Breakdown

“Its not looking too good.”--Knockout

“How bad?”--Breakdown

“A measle gust of wind apparently then their going down to the Well.”--Knockout

“… Tell the humans thank you for me.”--Breakdown

“They can hear you, loud and clear.”--Knockout

Something clicked in June’s head.

Buddy had always been a bit different from the others, especially on some days that they worked stiffly and refused often to go out of the base.

When the pair had gotten rescued, they both compared their thoughts about Buddy.

They both had come to similar conclusions.

Buddy was sick, and they didn’t know.

Or

Buddy was sick and knew they were.

That second one made June feel sick herself.

June suddenly started coming by the base a bit more often and started spending a bit more time with Buddy.

Buddy just seeing this as one of their friends wanting to know a bit about themselves didn’t think too much about it.

“So how was today’s work?”--June

“Nothing too special June. And you how was work.”--Buddy

“Nothing special today. Why don’t you take a seat for a bit?”--June

“Oh, okay.”--Buddy

CREAK!

“… Sometimes the joints will act up a bit.”--Buddy

“Okay…”—June

June was secretly making notes about these interactions and how Buddy would position themselves and any noise they made.

Now all she needed was a second opinion about her thoughts.

She managed to get Ratchet to go out with her for a drive to talk about Buddy.

Ratchet felt his spark fall a little hearing the symptoms and little things June had managed to get.

It sounded like a familiar illness that had broken out a couple years before the war.

He figured that it had gone.

He feels like he should have known better.

That’s when he gets a call from Bulkhead.

“Bulkhead? What—”--Ratchet

“It’s Buddy! They just—they just—”--Bulkhead

“Bulkhead calm down what happened to Buddy?”--Ratchet

“They just… just collapsed! I don’t see any wounds or anything! The kids said they just dropped!”--Bulkhead

“Bulkhead stay with Buddy and activate the groundbridge.”--Ratchet

“You got it Doc!”--Bulkhead

Ratchet later apologized to June about nearly giving her whiplash when he turned around and sped to the groundbridge.

Buddy had collapsed while on the line with Bumblebee while he was scouting some old mining deposits. Bulkhead had gone to the other room to get something.

Bulkhead was already coming back to the main room when he heard the loud thud, he just came faster when he heard the kids screaming.

He found Buddy lying on the ground still and a frantic beeping sound from the comm center.

Quickly checked Buddy if they were injured, finding nothing just worried him more.

Physical injuries he could kind of get.

Energon leaking, try and stop it leaking.

No injury then it’s something inside.

While he was coming in Ratchet, he directed Raf to get to the comms and alert Bee what happened and try and help if he could.

Ratchet came in speeding.

June quickly got out so Ratchet could get to Buddy quicker.

“Bulkhead, grab Buddy and get them to the med bay.”--Ratchet

“Okay!”--Bulkhead

“Gently!”--Ratchet

“Okay…”--Bulkhead

“Are they okay?”--June

“I am not sure yet. The scans will at least give me some clue on what is going on. Rafael, I need you to pull up Buddy’s stats from my screen.”—Ratchet

“You got it!”--Raf

Ratchet felt his energon go cold seeing the results.

How could Buddy’s levels be so low?!

They were lower than his for crying out loud!

How could a perfectly healthy bot get levels so low without an injury?

To be honest he was surprised to see Buddy even alive with these levels. But he wasn’t going to say that out loud.

Right now Ratchet set to work to get Buddy stable.

Bulkhead hated having to tell Bee that Buddy was… he didn’t even know what was happening just that ratchet was trying to get them stable.

“Bee?”--Bulkhead

“BEEP?! Bepp boop bop beep! (Bulkhead! What happened? What happened to Buddy?!)”--Bumblebee

“I’m… I’m not sure Bee. All I know is that Ratchet is trying to stabilize them right now.”--Bulkhead

“…Bep beep. (Send me a brigde)”--Bumblebee

“Coming up… but you’re not going to like what you see.”--Bulkhead

Bumblebee had never zoomed into a groundbrigde than he did at that moment.

His spark skipped a beat when he heard the loud thud and screaming. He thought that the base had been attacked and that the kids were in trouble.

He was beyond relief when he heard Raf’s voice, until he heard that Buddy had collapsed, and they weren’t waking up.

Zipping into the groundbridge all he could do was wait for Ratchet to be done with Buddy.

When Buddy woke up, they were attacked with mini hugs from their human friends.

“Buddy!”--Kids

“Hey… You guys looked like someone died.”--Buddy

“You almost did! Don’t do that again!”--Miko

“Hehe… no promises.”--Buddy

“You better!”--Raf

“I’ll do my best then.”--Buddy

“Do better please.”--Jack

Buddy turned to see Ratchet, Bulkhead and Bumblebee watching them.

And Buddy’s true stats on Ratchet’s arm.

The secret was out.

Buddy, after a bit of hesitation, told them about their illness, it wasn’t contagious, it happened to 1 in a million.

They just so happened to be lucky million.

Ratchet gave them a little lecture about the importance of not hiding stuff like this from him.

Bumblebee further went on to say that they weren’t a burden to the team for having the illness, it was a part of them that they would accept.

Bulkhead told them that he and the team would help them with more activities that would be friendlier to their frame than the rougher things.

Buddy could feel themselves choking up on the emotions and just nodded.

“I know that was a lot to take in at once, we will be talking about this again.”--Ratchet

“Oh man…”--Buddy

“But, for now you need your rest.”--ratchet

“What about the comms?”--Buddy

“Beep? Boop bop boop (The Comms? I think we can handle the comms until up get a bit better.)”--Bumblebee

“Bee’s right. Just get some rest. You still have to tell the others.”--Bulkhead

“…Great…”--Buddy

“Yip! Yip! Enough, get some rest Buddy.”--Ratchet

“…Thank you. Everyone, thanks for everything.”--Buddy

“Your family Buddy, family looks after one another.”--Bulkhead

“Thanks…”--Buddy

For the first time in a while, Buddy slipped into a blissful recharge without any pain.

[givemea-dam-break]

hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3

a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao

warnings: minor injury detail gn reader

Perfect - Anthony Lockwood

The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.

There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"

"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."

"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."

"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."

He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."

You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."

"Ah, I'll cope."

"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."

"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."

If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.

The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.

He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.

"You got this from a glass door, right?"

You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."

His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.

He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.

For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.

"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."

He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"

"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Do."

But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.

"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."

His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.

And, as if having read your mind, he does.

If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.

"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.

You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.

"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"

He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.

"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.

"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.

It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.

It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.

"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."

You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"

The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.

That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.

You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.

"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"

Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"

You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.

Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.

Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."

"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.

"Well, if you're so sure -"

Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.

[muffinsin]

I'm so happy you responded :D (and that you write platonic fics , I like romance but platonic is something I'll love forever❤️)

If possible can you do maybe how the sisters would react to their mother adopting a human kid??

Like they come injured and orphaned to work at their castle and alcina is like "this is my child now" and whips her away.

I feel like Cassandra would be the most protective out of the 3 and just carry her with her wherever and bela would make sure she's eating and drinking, maybe teach her to read and write . And Daniela would just play with her all day long while reading her favourite stories .

I love all of your fics and Im sorry if this is too long or just not your cup of tea . Absolutely feel free to ignore this . I hope you have a good day 😊💞

Ofc! :) I try to respond to every inbox noti! (Even if stuff occasionally gets lost in the inbox🙇‍♀️), I can’t blame you at all XD I love writing pretty much all types of things, but platonic is such a sweet and pure type of writing🙌 So happy to hear you like my works! :) Have a good day too hon! This was so cute, I had to pull it to the front of my WIP list🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

Absolutely, this is adorable! Let’s get into it :)

Masterlists

Bela

You catch Bela’s eye immediately, from the moment you enter the castle halls

Your heartbeat is far too quick, far too weak for it to be suitable for work

However, she originally assumes you’re an ill maid. Not a child

Her surprise, therefore, is large when she swarms to you to separate you from the group and label you as a reject

Yet, she finds no one on eye level

Not even on cleavage level

She looks down to see you, a child of small size, look up at her with wide, terrified eyes

What? How did you get here?

She crouches down, for once uncaring as she gives up her usually so intimidating posture

Bela finds herself surprised when she sees tears welling in your little eyes, then feels small arms wrap around her

For a moment, she looks like a deer in the headlights

Still, she knows what she must do. And as such she picks you up effortlessly, a not so subtle grimace on her face as you cough nearly into her ear

She brings you to Alcina, who promises to take care of you and the matter of your sudden appearance

Now, when Bela peeled you off her while you were clinging like a koala, she did not expect to find herself as your sister

However, this was exactly what Alcina announced a couple of days later after some careful consideration

Truly, she thought she would take the news worse. Whenever she thought of another sibling, she mentally rolled her eyes

Another one to share Mother’s attention with…

Another to Shepard…

However, Bela feels an instant bond with you. What’s one more younger sibling?

She’s incredibly maternal with you, as she was and still is with her sisters

Bela takes care of you the majority of the day, and you overall spend the most amount of time with her, out of your new sisters

She ensures you eat and is curious to find out what can all sate your appetite

Are you picky? Are you willing to try all out once? Do you like vegetables? Do you prefer meat? Bela is the one to find all of this out first

She has absolutely had to prevent her sisters from feeding you blood in the past, however

She knows enough of humans to know they are not supposed to eat blood, at least

Your eldest sister teaches you to read and write early on, and proves to be surprisingly patient with it

She reads to you and encourages you to try as well, so that in no time you’re capable of reading easy, short stories the two of you have come up with

She has pristine handwriting, and as she teaches you, she ensures at least one of her siblings picks up on this

With Bela, you often pick up fancy words and phrases, which you in time like to repeat to your mama later on, who always praises you for your ever growing vocabulary

Really, Bela is mainly the reason your vocabulary is so vast

However, one thing your sister makes sure of, evidently more than your other sisters, is not to swear in front of you

Aside from your mama, Bela is the one teaching you manners the most

She teaches you early on to use your words to get what you want

With her, you learn the art of subtle things

Such as subtly intimidating people, or, in time, insulting people without having them notice it, even

She teaches you to influence others in order to gain what you want

This, ironically, usually doesn’t work on her

But your mama and Daniela? It works perfectly as an alternative to your puppy eyes

Asides from all these aspects, Bela loves to keep you with her while she works

She often enough pulls you to her lap to cuddle while she fills out paperwork, a warm smile on her face when you show her the drawing you’ve been working on

Your sister and mother share this, it seems

Cassandra

Upon learning she gets a new sibling, she isn’t exactly thrilled

She loves her sisters incredibly much, this is undeniable

But another sibling? She fights for her Mother’s attention so as it is already!

However, upon meeting you properly, you’ve immediately got her wrapped around your little finger the second you walk up to her and give her sickle a curious yank

Immediately, she smirks

Oh, yes, she likes you

Cassandra loves to spend her time with you

Mainly because she knows you’re completely in awe of her, and she loves it

She wants to prove that she can be a role model, too

She’s incredibly protective of you. No one is allowed to get close to you without her there

And even if someone is there, Cassandra makes it perfectly clear that you’re a Dimitrescu and are to be respected as such

So what if your tiny frame and soft cheeks are so damn adorable?

If she catches even a single maid fussing over you, an example is made out of her

Cassandra picks you up whenever she sees you

You’re so tiny to her, and she makes sure to be careful with you. She knows best how fragile humans are

However, not once has she hurt you, even accidentally

Your older sister takes perfect care of you, and you love to spend time with her

Out of all the things Cassandra teaches you, one of them is to stand up for yourself

While Bela teaches you to ask for what you want, your other sister takes a different approach;

She teaches you to take what you want. As her sibling, you’re a Dimitrescu. As such, you are entitled to things

What you aren’t given, you can take

She demonstrates this plenty, and even as you often see her consume blood or even cut the maids and scare them openly, you never find yourself being afraid of her

At first, this catches Cassandra off guard

She was so worried she’d scare you because you’re so young

But being scared of your sister? What a silly thought. Even as she is covered in blood from head to toe, you grin as you urge your little legs to bring you to her and jump up into her arms

Cassandra is the one to teach you how to protect yourself incredibly early on

Because she knows how fragile and weak most humans are, she refuses to let you become such

She play fights with you a lot, and allows you to watch her train

She notices early on that you seem to have taken a liking to watching her train especially

You could giggle and sit in awe for hours as she moves effortlessly

Her hits on the dummy are powerful, and you awe whenever she accidentally slices into it with her sickle

Often, she trains with you, though. Small, easy things. Nothing that could get you injured

You’re taught how to keep your footing and stand your ground even with unsteady, little legs

This in particular comes in handy when your mama attempts to lift you off the floor to put you in the bath, yet you don’t feel like it

Often you pull a concentrated frown as you stick in place as though glued to the floor

Whenever you tell your sister of this, she smirks proudly, which in turn has you feel proud

However, even as Cassandra helps and encourages you with every little thing you want, even she has her limits

You are not to go hunting with her outside of the tiny, secluded area that she knows is safe

Unlike your sisters, you aren’t allowed to venture further into the forest yet

And while you sometimes whine about this, your complains are often shut down when Cassandra agrees to tell you stories of her triumphs

Often you ask her to sit by your side in bed and tell you a bedtime story of how she took down all sorts of prey

Alcina only smiles fondly whenever her middle child adds factors that didn’t quite happen

She never corrects Cassandra, though, and only praises her when you fall asleep midway through her stories

When she does take you hunting, you are to stick close to her side. And you always do. And Cassandra always keeps you safe

There has never been a close call with your older sister right by your side, and so you are often allowed to go with her, a toy bow and a stick for a knife in your hand as you watch her hunt and try to copy her movements

Funnily enough, such moments lead to your success at hunting much, much later in your life

Daniela

She is in a mix of emotions and thoughts when Alcina tells everyone a new sibling is joining the family

On one hand, she doesn’t want to give up her title as the youngest sister. The baby of the family. The one to get away with everything

She’s grown so very comfortable in her role

Even before she meets you, Daniela is jealous. Why must you take this all from her?

Will she still be mama’s favourite? After all, now you will be the baby of the family

She doesn’t feel ready to become a middle child. She’s not ready to be more mature than she wants to be

Instead, Daniela just wants to keep living her fantasy life with no worries whatsoever

Alcina, of course, notices her youngest- no, second youngest’s- distress even before introducing you

She reassures, nothing will change for Daniela, other than having another sibling. She will still be loved just as much, there is no need being jealous and trying to fight for attention

As such, her feelings of jealousy and annoyance are replaced with adoration when she meets you

You’re so tiny! And so- human

She can’t help but hug you immediately. She’s very careful with you, and grins when you smile up at her

Daniela spoils you endlessly

You know to find her when you want candy (even after or just before dinner!) or a special treat

She can’t ever say no to you. You’re just so cute!

She’s your older sister, but she’s also your partner in crime

It starts by teaching you the ways of one of her most powerful weapon; her trusted puppy eyes

She assures you, those will make all of Mama’s resolves fade away

Whether it’s about getting a new toy or attention, extra time before bed or favours, the puppy eyes come in clutch

While yours are excellent already, Daniela helps you perfect them

Additionally, she is always up for playing games

No matter the time, your sister always jumps at the idea of playing

She especially likes to play chase with you, though, and even makes sure to slow down to ensure you’re able to run a little longer, or at least stand a chance at catching her

She also loves to play hide and seek together

The only problem? Both of you are by far too good at hiding, and not quite as good at seeking

Often, you must convince one of your older sisters to join in and seek

Bela has offered to do this multiple times as a way to ensure you and Daniela stay out of trouble while she gets some work done

Daniela loves playing pretend with you, too

She has so many toys, and she’s willing to share them all with you!

Often, you have sword fights with sticks or race the castle to find the hidden treasure hidden by one of your other sisters

Daniela is incredibly close to you, as are you to her

She loves to cuddle with you, and uses any excuse to be able to do so. You’re so tiny and warm, just like a teddy bear

Often, the two of you curl up in a corner in the library

With snacks, drinks and blankets surrounding you, you love to lean against her as she reads fairytales to you

While Bela also enjoys to read, you fine Daniela’s reading by far more entertaining, though. Mainly for the fact that she brings the characters in the stories to life

She loves to giggle along with you as you read, and often encourages you to try reading a small passage yourself

When you do, she always praises you and makes it a point to tell Alcina how your reading’s improving

You know, as with Bela and Cassandra, you can always count on Daniela