#once a month and have to hunt down any books that were on the list. it was books that hadn’t been taken out or seen in 6 months plus

[fingertipsmp3]

Not to be one of those people who complains but why are the two library books I reserved 3 weeks ago (as the first person in the queue mind you. And both of them are popular books with multiple copies available) still not ready

[chronically-ghosted]

sam and diane, eat your heart out

rating: 18+

pairing: marcus pike x f!reader

word count: 3374

summary: after spending six months with FBI Agent Marcus Pike on a case almost-kissing, almost-flirting - almost - almost - almost - you decide to do something about that Unresolved Sexual Tension.

tags/warnings: thigh riding, marcus being a menace during a makeout session, marcus being a good agent first and an idiot second, i love marcus pike with my whole being (not a warning, just thought you should know), light cursing, reader is a journalist but no y/n or physical descriptions

a/n:  from @trulybetty 's request from my 100 followers celebration: "Going with psychography and this is hard… Let's see, I pick prompt no. 9 and Pedro boy of choice is Marcus Pike as he's one you don't have your master list yet! → “i’m so sick of this ‘will we, won’t we’ shit."I'll leave it to dealers' choice for smut vs. no smut on how it takes you!"

🤍Masterlist

“So, this is it? This proves the buyer knowingly purchased the artifacts illegally from the Belgian government.” 

His mouth twitches. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know any court of law that wouldn’t uphold this as evidence.” 

“And then used the money to bankroll the opposite party? These tapes, Marcus – I don’t know how you got them, but –,”

“Wouldn’t have gotten them without those bank statements,” he smiles at you, fingers pressing down those specific documents on his desk. “I don’t even wanna know how you got into that personal server, but –,”

“I’ll keep my secrets if you’re going to keep yours.” 

“Fair enough,” he chuckles and the sound sends a cascade of warmth down the back of your neck. You turn your head away to hide your cheeks like some schoolgirl with a crush. Well, about half of that is right. A crush on the FBI agent you’ve been working with on the side to not only bring an end to one man’s hunt for cultural artifacts that do not belong to him – how stupid could you be? This is not the way to getting your first Pulitzer!

Besides, this is only going to end badly – for you. Because whether or not you were convinced that Agent Marcus Pike may in fact be interested in you, depended on the day, the weather, and if you were susceptible to crying and eating chocolate bar by bar. Your combined case against this wanna-be museum pilferer was more airtight than your little book of tells: “Marcus noticed my perfume today”, “Marcus didn’t mention my haircut” , “Marcus complimented my outfit today.” You plucked off hopes and disappointments like petals from the most pathetic daisy and when you found yourself staring at an empty stalk, you were no closer to finding an answer you were happy with. 

Because for every reason, every indication, every hint that no, Marcus annoyingly respected you only for your brains and journalistic integrity . . . he’d look at you like he’s looking at you right now and every semblance of dignity would go flying out the window faster than you can say defenestration. 

Marcus drops your eyes, mouth parted as if surprised by his blatant staring, and he brushes the lynch pin to your case with his fingers.

“This is, um, this is really good work. Your editors are gonna love it.”

You lean your hip against the edge of his desk, crossing your arms, elbowing your way back into his attention. Your thigh teases the space between his. His head down, you watch his tongue wet his bottom lip the longer he stares at your hip. 

“They’d love it more if the agent in charge went on record about the whole thing.” 

Like you burned him, he retreats, stepping back towards the corkboard that’s been hanging in his office for six months. He tugs at his tie and clears his throat.

“Mhmm, yeah, maybe for a follow-up piece.” Swallowing, he pulls at the knot of his tie, and slips it over his head once the hole is big enough, quickly stuffing it in his pocket. He looks at the board like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

You can’t stop the irate scoff. The hurt, the embarrassment, it burns you. It’s such a stupid crush and he’s making you look like an idiot for it, desperate for scraps when you deserved a whole fucking meal. Your self-confidence had been hard won, built up under years of duress and shame, and a need for a change in your life. If you aren’t happy with something, fix it, your father used to say. So you did and you weren’t about to let Marcus goddamn Pike make you feel small again.

“You know what, fuck this.” In two strides, you move away from his desk and snatch up your shoulder bag. You know you’re making a scene, your cheeks warm, nose flared, and this isn’t the best way to end the last six months, or even continue a potentially invaluable insider source that could benefit your career for years to come. But you can’t help it. You hate how Marcus makes you feel. “I’m such a fucking idiot for thinking you’d have the balls to reciprocate so, you know what, that one’s on me. Keep the tapes, Marcus, I have copies. I’m going home.”

He frantically sputters out your name as he intercepts you between the door to his office. All the blinds are shut, this case of the highest confidentiality, and at least there’s the small miracle that his coworkers can’t see you act like a jilted fourteen year old. Your hand squeezes the strap around your shoulder when Marcus reaches for you. 

“I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”  

You grind your teeth together, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m talking about us, Marcus. This thing between us that’s been going on for months. The thing that you refuse to acknowledge. I’m so sick of this ‘will-they-won’t-they’ shit. I’m a grown woman, Marcus, and if you’re not interested then just come out and say it. Just stop . . . messing with me.”

The hand outstretched to you curls in, fingers, fist, retreating. His mouth twitches again, his eyes fundamentally unreadable. He glances over your shoulder at the board, and then when he looks back, his gaze is . . . different. Like he swapped his usual soft, friendly brown eyes with a pretense that carries a little more heat to it. The spilling of too black powder in a dangerous, unstable place, where careless matches are liable to fly. 

Marcus shifts his weight, crosses his arms with the full strength of his back yanking on his blazer, and bites just below his lip on his left side, somehow making that bowed mouth even more pouty. 

“No, I mean . . . why did you think I’d never act on it?” 

Now it’s your turn to take a small step back, even though the low pitch to his voice is exactly what you’ve been all but begging for. The sound of it twists your insides, tugging arousal low in your belly. You swallow, suddenly blinding padding around for that righteous anger. 

“It’s been six months, Marcus. Three since you almost kissed me during the stakeout. Two since I saw you staring at my bra after the rainstorm. A-and last month . . . last month, when you invited me over for dinner, I thought . . . I-I thought . . .”

You thought dinner was going to end in something sweeter than chocolate pie for dessert, when a woman called him, furious that he hadn’t been answering his calls. Her screaming was audible and the sheer look of panic on his face was enough to confirm every terrible thing you thought you were so terribly correct about. 

“I told you about my ex-wife when we first met. I wasn’t hiding her. You weren’t the other woman.” 

“Yeah, but people usually go their separate ways after a so-called nasty divorce.” 

His eyebrow jumps at the unmasked condescension in your voice. You hold the strap across your chest like a lifeline. 

Marcus’s eyes stray to the corkboard again as he works his jaw, split between being rather irritated and . . . something else. 

That something else slams full force into your chest when he meets your gaze: heartbreak.

“Did you ever consider I tried to stop anything before it started, because I didn't want some asshole defense attorney to have any reason to blow holes in our case?” He shakes his head, this time overwhelming you entirely as he oversteps at least three professional boundaries by herding you back against a filing cabinet with just the sway of his body. The metal clangs as you crash against it, shoulders around your ears. “A reason like if the lead investigator and his CI were fucking?”

The messenger bag around your hips is the only thing keeping him from pressing up on you entirely. You are intimately aware of that when he tilts his head at you, eyes mournful and explorative as they draw a path over your cheeks, your nose, your eyebrows. Down the curve of your jaw and your neck. 

You do the only thing you can think of and laugh at him: “A CI? Please, I think I was a little more integral than that.” 

Marcus hums as he gently brushes the arch of your cheek with the pad of his finger. 

“All the more reason to keep everything squeaky clean.” 

You finally understand why he’s been looking at the board over and over, as if it’s going to suddenly catch flames. You suppose it's only fair that he’s worried – does a blasphemer not worry about his own state of grace on holy ground? 

He’s knee-bucklingly close when you work up enough courage to look him in the eye and say what’s been looping around your mind like an unhitched railway car.

“But you said it yourself, the case is over, right?” There’s a corner of your mind that is keening with embarrassment at how breathless you sound, so you throw a shoe at her and drop your eyes to Marcus’s increasingly close lips. They’re wet when he runs his tongue over them. 

“Yes, I did say that.” Fireworks explode in your brain when he tucks his middle finger under the strap of your messenger bag up by your collarbone, and then proceeds to slide his hand down the strap, knuckles very intentionally rubbing between the valley of your breasts. You wish you had worn a push-up bra or nothing at all. His hand shakes as it stops just above your belly button. 

On a slow inhale, his palm changes directions, turning over to your stomach, heat blooming from where he touches you over your skin, to slide with a solid grip on your hip. A weight. The shifting of the scales. 

“Marcus–,” it sounds like begging and he’s hardly even touched you so you have to follow it up with something. You drop your head back against the metal, trying to even your breathing. “Marcus, w-we got the evidence. The case is closed, we d-don’t work together any more. We - we can–,”

“I want to,” he murmurs and you swear the heat from his breath across your collarbone tightens your nipples in your shirt. “God, I fucking want to. But this case can’t be jeopardized. The bureau has been after this guy for years and if we fuck it up on a technicality –,” 

“We don’t have to tell anyone,” you blurt out. The back of your head pinned to the metal locker behind you, you stare him down from the end of your nose, breathing hard and heavy. You squeeze your eyes shut before opening them to his gun-powder gaze. “We don’t even have to do this more than once, but . . . fuck, I’ve gotta get you out of my system, Marcus. I can’t think straight around you anymore.” 

Making a noise like someone popped him across the chest with their elbow, he shuffles closer, the bag between you digging painfully into your lower stomach. Both hands find their way to your hips. He squeezes you through your jeans, your panties a truly forgone mess at this point. You had men tease you before about how wet you got, like it was something shameful or embarrassing – giving so much of yourself away so quickly – but nearly pinned beneath him, you are quite sure Marcus would never have that inclination. Your own hands have latched onto his shoulders of their own accord. 

“We don’t have to tell,” you hiccup when his thumb barely brushes the bottom of your bra. “I won’t tell, Marcus.” He tilts his head, the rough hairs of his beard brushing against your temple and you shudder, so eager to be touched by him on your skin and not through your clothes. “Please. Please.” 

He groans again, eyes fluttering, head shaking. “Fuck, baby, don’t beg me like that–,”

His body presses you flat against the locker when he eagerly collides his mouth with yours. His broad hands cup your cheeks, holding you exactly where he wants you, your fingers digging around his wrists to confirm to him there’s literally nowhere else you’d rather be. 

Marcus Pike executed everything in his life with dogged determinism. From catching criminals, to shining his shoes, Marcus was meticulous and detail-oriented. It made him a great agent – and one hell of a kisser. 

His tongue rides along the bottom of your lip, then the top, not seeking entrance, but cataloging if the places on your mouth taste differently. He nips your plush lip and finds the sound you make is not exactly how he wants it. So he licks your mouth open, as forcefully as he politely shows a warrant before kicking open a suspect’s door. He finds that you like it when he’s a bit rough with his tongue, biting more at your upper lip to make you keen at that frequency he’s been craving. He does it again and you moan louder, fingers tightening around the curls at the back of his neck. He’s not satisfied with that sound alone, so he pushes even closer to you, seeking your heat with his thigh as if he could feel you pulse for him with just his mouth on you. 

But this goddamn bag –

“Get this–,” he scrambles over your hands as you both incorrectly fight with the strap and the weight of the bag, “what is even in this?”

You chuckle as he manages to yank it over your head without pulling out your hair. “My little pheromones to drive hot FBI agents berserk. Why? Is it working?” 

His moan is set between his teeth, sucking on both his own desperation and frustration at your teasing. Barrier gone, he shoves his knee between your thighs and slides it until it nestles against your crotch. It pushes the seam of your jeans against your clit and you rip your mouth away from his, gasping at the overly hot pleasure that roars up your middle. 

“Fuck, Marcus,” you keen and his mouth splits open, eyelids heavy, as he watches you writhe on this thigh. 

“You’re so warm, but are you wet? I can’t feel you.” His nose and mouth tucking into your neck, his wide palms tug and push your hips in a steady rhythm that has you fisting his jacket. “Couldn’t have worn a skirt?” 

“I didn’-t know – you’d want to – do this,” you breathe through this rapidly swelling pleasure, your clit throbbing. He presses up with his thigh just barely and you moan like a fucking pornstar, his cock rock solid and hot against your hip. 

“Can-can you do this?” He asks breathlessly, his own hips rolling in time with yours. “Can you come just on my thigh?” 

You bite your lip and nod, eyes shut and head back against the metal. “Y-yeah, I think I’m – God, yes, I am – I am so close.” 

“What do you need – to get you there?” He dips his head back to that spot on your neck that made your skin break out in goosebumps and he nips at your pulse point before soothing it with his tongue. You jerk at the sensation, your own pleasure ratcheting up to a soaring new height, the damp stripe of your panties almost soothing to your aching clit. You’re so sticky everywhere. You gasp, your hands curling into his shirt, shoulder digging into his jaw, neck arched to the side, as if your body is concerned how hard this orgasm is going to hit when he sucks a distinctive bruise into the hollow of your throat.

“Oh, God, Marcus –,” 

“Tell me, what do you need?” he slurs in your ear. 

You feel so empty, so wet and hollow, you want him to strip your pants down now and fill you as fast as you can. But you tremble on the razors edge – his cock anywhere near you is going to ruin you for the rest of the night – you just need to break through this one and then you’ll –

“Your fingers, Mar-cus, just put – them –,”

He huffs, grunting as he understands, and one of the steadying hands on your hips lurches to the front of your jeans. His knuckles dig into the skin of your stomach as he flicks open the button of your jeans, a low-heavy-drag whine as he finally feels the heat of your pussy, ready to suck him up inside you. He yanks down the zipper, cups you and that’s almost enough. It’s nearly enough and you gasp, your core fluttering, nails tearing into his shirt. 

“Yeah, you need more?” Marcus hums, his teeth scraping your jaw as he pins you to the wall with his full body weight. “Can’t let anything be easy, can you?”

All sense and shame dragged out of you with every swipe of your clit against his thigh, you shake your head and let out a loud whimper. 

He grunts something low and fast, heated and possessive, his hand shifting, knuckle peeling back your sticky underwear, fingers rubbing up against your puffy lips, and finally –

You toss your head back, a hot freeze locking your body up from your toes to your forehead, when he slides two fingers right up your cunt and curls them forward. A second later, heat crackles from your cunt up to your chest and you inhale, stars in your eyes and toes barely scraping the ground. 

As you sink back down into your own body, your brain plugging back in, you realize he’s whispering to you, muttering, his lips moving fast over your skin as he gently brushes your cheek with his own. 

“So good, baby, everything I thought you were going to be, you let me touch you, you make such pretty sounds, so good,” 

The high continues to drag you back down, down until you’re shaking in his arms, a lethargic weight pulling you into his chest. He cups your head into the curve of his neck, his own heart pounding into the vein of his neck. 

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re messing with me anymore,” you chuckle into his skin and you feel him smile above you. “Okay, a little messing. A messing when asked.” 

“Good. I like messing when asked.” He kisses your cheek, lips lingering as he breathes out his nose. “But, uh, I know you said you weren’t going to tell anyone, but you weren’t exactly quiet about it.” 

You warm again, but this time with a bashful grin. 

“Yeah, sorry. I guess there are advantages to being a workaholic and staying in the office until ten at night.” 

He shakes his head, gently easing his knee from between your legs, careful to hold you until you are steady on your own feet. 

“Don’t need to apologize for that, pretty girl. In fact,” he picks up your infamous shoulder bag and loops it over his neck. The strap catches the fluff of his hair and it stands straight up. You didn’t think you had the energy, but your heart goes wild at the sight. “In fact, when I take you home, I’d like you to be even louder.”

Apparently you had a lot more stamina than you thought because your toes curl and you can practically hear your pussy throb. Your eyes flicker to his crotch.

“You don’t want . . . here?”

He pulls you into his arms, and kisses your forehead. “I do. I want very much. But the first time I’m inside you with anything but my fingers, it’s not going to be in my office. Won’t be able to concentrate.” He takes a look around what had been the epicenter of your investigation for months. “Actually, I might have to repaper the whole thing now.” 

You chuckle, leaning up under his arm where he’s damp and warm. “I think that might tip off someone to our little technicality.” 

He matches your smirk with an eyebrow raise. “Fair. Guess it’ll just have to linger here.”

You kiss his throat as he leads you out of the abandoned building, arm tight around you. Where he does take you home, where he does come inside you with something other than his fingers, and where you scream his name . . . yes, even louder. 

[youunravelme]

Hey baby, happy 1000!

Your writing is always sweet and warm, happy that you are having such a well-deserved recognition! 💜

Could you grace us by writing to Anthony with the prompt “Nibbling on their partner’s lower lip as they kiss, letting their hands wander. Cupping their face in their hands to hold them their just a while longer.”?

Ily 💜

thank you thank you !! and AHHHHH thank you for choosing good ole sweet nugget anthony! (ilhsm)

thanks for the request!! it's right below! (and this request, just like the last one, got away from me yet again.)

anthony's trade still left a sour taste in your mouth. you were in no position to job hunt, and you weren't keen on up and quitting.

so you managed long distance.

for months

and god it sucked.

your schedules barely aligned to talk on facetime, and if both of you were free, one of you was too tired to talk, which ended in one of you hanging up when the conversation died down. it was hard, managing a social life when all you wanted was your boyfriend, it was even harder knowing he was trying just as much to have a good time in vancouver.

the offseason was wonderful, with anthony splitting time between new york with you and time with his family.

but when august hit, and he packed his last bag, it took everything in you to wait to cry until he left for tsa.

so when your boss came up to you a month later and suggested you could work remotely, you almost cried and hugged her.

you refrained and called mat instead.

"hey what's up? everything okay?"

you laughed into the phone, so hard you almost started crying. "my boss told me i can work remotely."

"oh," he said before his voice came back even stronger. "oh!"

"i can move to vancouver!" you were crying now, though someone might think the word "weeping" was more applicable. "no more long distance, no more falling asleep on calls."

"have you told him yet?"

you paused. "no, i think i wanna surprise him." you'd been planning it all day, they were playing the ducks this week in vancouver. and while you would've loved to wait until next week when they played the isles, you didn't think you could wait that long to see him.

so you booked your plane ticket, and mat gave you a list of suggested hotels that were safe and close to the arena.

"not that you'll need a hotel once he finds out you're in town," mat said.

mat had also pulled some strings for you by asking bo horvat to let one of his former teammates know to let you down to the locker rooms at the end of the game. he'd also sent a list of things to do in vancouver while you waited for the game to start.

which would ultimately be a waste because you ended up spending most of your time before the game pacing the floor of your hotel room. you would've paced up and down the plane aisles if you were allowed, so you settled for bouncing your leg instead.

by the time you made it to the stadium, you were like two hours early, just in time for the doors to open. initially, you thought about waiting so anthony wouldn't spot you in the small crowd, but you couldn't keep waiting and delaying the inevitable.

not when you were in the same city for the first time in months since the off season.

you walked into the arena, pulling your jersey's sleeves over your hands in a sad attempt to keep them warm. around you were others dressed similarly, many of whom were wearing your boyfriend's jersey.

it was weird, even though you'd had time to get used to him not wearing an islanders' jersey, you'd never actually been to a home canucks game where multiple people were decked out in 72s.

god you couldn't wait to see him.

your phone buzzed in your back pocket and when you pulled it out, you saw anthony's contact photo filling up your screen.

"hello?"

"hey baby," anthony started. "how're you doing? have any plans for tonight?"

you smirked to yourself. "nothing too special," you said. "just seeing a friend i haven't seen in awhile."

"is that so? how was work--" he cut himself off. "where are you right now? it's kinda loud." you could hear him typing on his phone. "wait, why can't i see your location? where are you? are you safe? do i need to call mat?"

you laughed, missing him even now that you were in opposite ends of the arena. "no baby, i'm fine. sometimes my phone just glitches out."

"if your phone keeps glitching, you need to get a new one. i don't like not knowing where you are."

"anthony--"

"i'm being dead serious, honey. i will buy you a phone if you're concerned about money, but i'm not comfortable with not having a reliable way to get up with you."

"my phone is fine."

"you just said it's glitchy." you rolled your eyes and sighed. "don't roll your eyes at me!"

you blinked. "how did you know i rolled my eyes?"

anthony's chuckle sounded through the receiver. "baby, i've been in love with you for a long time, i know you." you could fill the heat flood your body from your toes to your nose. "don't get shy on me now, honey. you know i love you."

"i know," you said. "i just like being reminded of it."

there was a commotion in the background of his phone that told you he was about to hang up.

"hey, listen i gotta go but can i call you later?"

you smiled to yourself. "i don't know, anthony, i think i'm gonna be busy later."

"too busy for me?"

"'fraid so."

he sighed. "fine, call me when you get home tonight, okay? if you don't, i'm calling mat to check on you."

"okay, baby. i love you."

"love you more."

and he hung up.

you made your way to your seat, sitting behind the front row of home bench and readying yourself with your beanie to cover your hair and face when needed. you scrolled through your social media accounts and answered some text messages, specifically from mat who was begging you to take a video of when anthony finally saw you.

before you knew it, the music started playing and boos emanated from the crowd as the ducks skated out. your gaze went back to your phone for a second to pull up the video as the canucks came out. the entire arena erupted into cheeks and celebration.

you had your phone aimed at the bench as soon as anthony came towards it. you didn't think it was possible to hide yourself behind a small cellular device, but he didn't manage to see you. for a moment, you saw him squint in your direction, but a teammate grabbed his attention before he could really hone in.

the game itself was interesting, anthony had one assist and one goal by the end of the night, with the canucks winning 5-3. at the end of the game, a security guard came over and grabbed you, offering to escort you to the locker rooms.

you stood and waited outside with the other wags, most of whom didn't recognize you initially. it wasn't until one of them mentioned knowing you from somewhere that you mentioned who you were dating. you lost track of how long you talked to them when the doors opened and the players walked out.

you stared and waited in anticipation of seeing him, knowing good and well the second you did, you wouldn't be able to control yourself.

and there he was, staring at his phone, probably texting someone back.

and you had an idea.

you immediately pulled up his contact info and hit the call button as you watched his face light up and quickly pick up the call.

"hey," he said, holding a hand to his other ear to hear you. "i thought you said you couldn't talk tonight."

"change of plans," you replied, not helping the smile that's on your face.

some of his teammates came up and clapped him on the shoulder, but he paid them no attention. quinn even tried to point towards you, but anthony waved him off.

"what're you gonna do now?"

you hummed. "i think i might take a handsome man home."

immediately, anthony's posture tensed, though you could still see the slight smirk on his face. "don't joke about that."

"oh i'm not joking. i'm just waiting for him to look up and notice me."

"how could anyone not notice you, baby?"

you shrugged, knowing he couldn't see you. "i don't know anthony, how could you not see me?"

he pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it like it had suddenly grown legs before he looked up and around everyone, eyes scanning those around him.

before those beautiful blue eyes landed on you.

you don't think someone has ever hung up a phone call as fast as he did.

you don't think anyone has crossed a room as quickly as he did.

you don't think...

well, as soon as his lips met yours, you ceased to think.

his hands were on your cheeks, his teeth pulled on your bottom lip. you weren't sure if he cheeks were still damp from the shower or if he was crying, not that it mattered to you. being held like that was everything you didn't realize you missed.

suddenly, you were missing the moments of lazy saturdays and pancakes for breakfast.

and you had it here right now.

you'd have it forever once you packed up your old apartment.

"what're you doing here?" he breathed into your mouth, like he was too scared to pull too far away, scared that if he did, you'd be a mirage or a figment of his own imagination.

"i thought it was obvious. i'm here to see you."

he rolled his eyes but kissed you again. "i missed your smart mouth, doesn't hit the same over the phone."

you placed your hands on his chest and felt the pounding heartbeat beneath the fabric of his clothes. "i came to give you good news."

"and?"

"my boss told me i could start working remotely."

he blinked.

"meaning, i can work anywhere i want, occasionally coming into the office about once a month if that."

he blinked again before exhaling what sounded like the most heartbreaking sigh of relief. "so you can move here? be with me?"

you laughed and nodded before he pulled you into another kiss. "anthony, baby, we're in public," you said, trying to pull away.

but his arms just grabbed you by the hips and pulled you closer. "don't care," he said. "i haven't seen my girl in months, if anyone has a problem with my kissing her, then that's a them issue."

you rolled your eyes but kissed him again anyway.

"i love you," he whispered. "i'm so glad you're moving here."

"love you more."

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 6)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Thank you for being so supportive, even though it has been literal months since I have updated!! I will try to post a bit more regularly (but also who knows because depression is a bitch).

AO3 link

You decide to hop up and shower after Enid’s inadvertent pep talk, feeling more hopeful now than you have in days. After getting dressed and stocking the bathroom for recently arrived students, you head to Jericho. It’s time to finalize scavenger hunt plans. You don’t want to wait weeks and drag out the process through secret codes in your mixes.

Flowers were taken care of, thanks to your new acquaintance James. You had also created a few other clues but needed to access a few places, like the bookstore, in town to complete them. You try to push your latest trip with Larissa to Jericho from your mind as you begin jogging the wooded path from Nevermore grounds to the town square. The crisp spring air was welcomed, and hopefully you could use this time to clear your head. Besides, you didn’t want to check-out any vehicles to drive in case Larissa was nearby. Her quarters were right above the school’s scheduling office, and you weren’t ready to face her just yet.

Once you’re severely out of breath and think the pain in your side will topple you, you finally reach the outskirts of Jericho. Your pace slows, and you begin to map out a to-do list in your head. At the bookstore, you’ll need magazines and the clerk’s cooperation on the day of the scavenger hunt. At the flower shop, you’ll need to ensure James was able to secure lilies and might lend his labor in planting and arranging them. At the Weathervane, you will need to clue the new barista in on your plan. Since Tyler is now a guest of the state after everything went down a couple months ago, a new barista was hired. You two are friendly due to your aggressive kindness when they would accidentally make mistakes during training. You hated that people in town weren’t understanding of the realities of service work. Finally, you will need to visit city hall to ensure you don’t need a permit to occupy the public space around the fountain in the middle of the square.

As you check things off your list, you realize you still need a way to ensure Larissa makes it to the book store once in Jericho. You ponder this as you head back to Nevermore—this time at a reasonable pace. Once on the grounds, you cross through the courtyard to the dorms and see Enid giggling with Yoko. You smile softly at their carefree banter. It’s at this moment you have the idea to loop Enid into the scavenger hunt, especially since she had helped you put things into perspective when you were secluded away in your room. It’s also at this time that you know it would probably be a terrible idea to entrust Nevermore’s gossip queen with a secret regarding the school’s principal. Stumped at this conundrum, you trek up to your room to leaf through the magazines from the bookstore you bought.

You get to work creating the aspects needed to complete the scavenger hunt—a new mix CD, cut out letters, a fake newspaper crossword, and so on. After an hour or two, your energy and attention span begin to falter without food. Your eyes wander to the clock; with students back on the school’s campus, you could catch dinner before the cafeteria closes if you leave now. You toss on an oversized maroon cardigan and head downstairs.

As you wander, you wonder if Larissa will be tucked away in her office with dinner and wine like she usually is. You desperately missed the time you two would spend together. You also speculate about whether or not you two would stay friends if she rejected you. You think too highly of her to be sour if her heart does not feel the same magnetic tug that yours does.

—

The same morning as your talk with Enid, Larissa awoke in sweats. She normally regulated her body temperature well and wasn’t terribly affected by nightmares. She’d lived through enough monsters to not be effected by them in dreams. Recently, however, she had been agitated…fitful. She knew why, even though she tried to rationalize it away.

She didn’t have a lot of friendships, let alone close ones. Shapeshifters never do. That’s why she constantly worked so hard to change the perceptions of outcasts—both within and outside the community. Whatever she had with you, Larissa feared she had ruined it. At the beginning of her relationship with you, there was a feeling between you of treading carefully, of testing boundaries. When could you be silly or drop the professional façade? That hesitance quickly dissipated and was replaced with comfort and familiarity. Unfortunately, Larissa had learned to rely on it. She craved it. It balanced her. Letting others in didn’t come easily, yet it felt like you were meant to know her.

After giving it more thought, Larissa isn’t completely sure if seeing you flirt with someone made her lash out or if it was about being confronted with her own feelings for you. Regardless, the underlying fear came true—damaging her relationship with you.

Once her breathing steadied after waking, she peered around her room. Her living quarters used to feel so luxurious and private, something completely hers in a boarding school that constantly pulled her in so many directions. Now, though, all she can sense is emptiness in the space. Bitter echoes of joyous moments she had with you throughout the room lingered.

Not only did you vanish from her room and office, but she hadn’t visibly seen you since that day at the Weathervane. You were no where to be found these last couple weeks. Instead of regularly creating music in the orchestra room and popping into her office, the library, the conservatory, and student dorms, you had hidden away. She knows this, because she had asked around about you to various faculty (and even some students). Larissa’s schedule often took her throughout Nevermore, and she ached to catch a glimpse of you—check in on you in some way. It wasn’t until she stepped away from answering emails to drink tea on her balcony for a moment that she saw you. You were outside in the spring air, heading away from the school.

Larissa had never seen you in athletic clothing…mainly because you two had joked about running being a punishment, that it was often a mutually constituted performance by people who bought into traditional, often limited ideas of health. Of course, that’s not why seeing you stunned her.

Rather, her heart ached. She felt panicked, as if she should make a decision about what to do right then and there before you ran completely out of sight. With a deep, slow breath to hinder acting impulsively, Larissa began to consider her options. Is it better to swallow the hurt and try to salvage the friendship? Surely, only a friendship with you is better than being without you completely. Or would doing that and being close with no hope for a future together hurt worse? Could she handle seeing you with the florist all the time? Larissa sat her teacup down to rub her temples.

A distant knock at the door to her office pulled her away from her thoughts. She stepped inside and called for the visitor to enter. There was work to do, meetings to be held. Quickly and neatly compartmentalizing her thoughts and emotions, Larissa moved forward to greet the mayor.

—

You were in the orchestra room, arranging a new composition in preparation for the scavenger hunt. You couldn’t sleep now that you had decided on a course of action, so you decided to make use of the extra energy swirling in your stomach and radiating out through your arms and legs. Thankfully the dormitories were on the other side of Nevermore’s campus, meaning students could not overhear or be disturbed by your work. You don’t quite remember how you got across the grounds or what time you left your room. All you knew was that this was your time, your safe space.

All of the sudden you hear heels from down the corridor and know that it must be Larissa. Who else would it be? Sure enough, Larissa comes in. No hesitation in her approach. Your stomach flips, and you’re surprised she seems so confident and determined. No silk pajamas; she’s still in a work outfit. You can’t remember if you’ve seen it before. Her sense of purpose impelled you to lean the cello in your arms to it’s stand instead.

Her lips are on yours before logic can catch up with you, her hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy and sacred. You let out a surprised “mmph” but return the kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around Larissa and inviting her closer. When your lips part ever so slightly, she deepens the kiss without delay. Her hands drift downward from your face to your neck to your arms to your outer thighs. You feel as if your heart is going to beat so quickly and become so enlarged that it will begin to break through your ribcage. Still, you wouldn’t stop this long-awaited union for anything.

Larissa’s swift hands had begun to pull you up into her arms, urging you to wrap your legs around her torso. You couldn’t bother with whether or not the cello was okay. After feeling her warmth against you, knowing she could feel the heat radiating from you too, both of your movements turned frantic. Your breath mimicked the raggedness it had from your run the other day.

“I want you. I want you. I need you.” Breathy declarations from Larissa ring out and ring throughout the room. In response, you bring her hand from the small of your back to your front, just under the edge of your shirt. The encouragement makes the taller woman whimper in between fervent kisses.

Suddenly, a deafening, reverberating crash sounds out.

Heart racing, sweaty, you jolt awake in your office chair in the orchestra room. Looking around anxiously, you see the cello you were playing on the ground, still vibrating. You must have was accidentally kicked it over in your sleep. The reddest blush plasters itself onto your cheeks. You were no stranger to dreaming of Larissa, but this is the first suggestive dream since she left you in the Weathervane. You didn’t even know someone could feel this embarrassed with no one else present. You’re alone and unsure of what time it is or what time you fell asleep after traipsing across campus. Only the quiet singing of birds outside indicated it was early morning. You normally frowned upon clocks in the classroom, but maybe you’ll rethink that now.

You look to the sheet music stand near you and find your phone. It’s dead. With a deep sigh, you gather your items and make your way to your living quarters. You need to confirm what time it is and change your clothes. Today is the day that you’re putting your scavenger hunt into motion.

—

Outside of Larissa’s office is a corkboard for Nevermore news, flyers, events, and so on that she checks daily. You post the anonymous note that serves as your first clue and fade into the stone wall behind you just as her office doors open and she steps out.

Larissa moved towards the board, not suspecting any terribly special memos pinned on a Saturday morning. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the pasted together instructions. Larissa knew the mismatched lettering had to belong to whoever was gifting her the elaborate playlists. It was finally time to uncover the truth that she so desperately desired. She quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching or leaving the area. …No one.

The patchwork note from cut-out magazine letters read, “Alas, it’s time to confess who I am. Come and find me if you can. I can skip but can’t walk. I’d rather sing than talk.”

A wild goose chase? Larissa considered. Truly, what can come of this? Just another CD with no confirmation of who this is? Even with her skepticism, Larissa was intrigued. She enjoyed conquering puzzles. There was something so satisfying about hunting down information and excavating the truth. With everything going on with you, Larissa welcomed a distraction, especially from someone who she considered herself to have a certain bond or connection with.

Snatching the clue from the board, Larissa retreated back to her office, abandoning her morning plans to roam among the grounds. I can skip but can’t walk…sing rather than talk…hm… Larissa mulled over the riddle. After a few moments, she can’t believe it took her this long to realize: CDs. Of course, it’s telling her to go back to the CDs. It’s where this all started. She walked over to her media player where one was already in place and started from track 1. Larissa felt as if she had committed the sounds and occasional lyrics to memory. How is there a clue here?

Pacing in front of her lit fireplace, Larissa fumbled haphazardly with the CD case in her hands as she listened with new intent. On the third turn around, her hand accidentally brushed off a sticky note that was placed on the back cover. “Wha-” she began while bending over to pick up the small piece of paper on the floor.

“Finish” she saw written on it. Finish what? A bit frustrated that she can’t make sense of the notation, she went to her desk to examine the other gifts. Sure enough, there were post-its on the backs of them as well. When read all together, they directed her to finish the newspaper crossword. Okay, so whoever this was definitely knew her routine. That’s not exactly breaking news, though. Larissa stepped out onto her balcony where she laid the newspaper next to her finished cup of tea. Flipping through to the crossword section, she saw a custom crossword tucked into the paper. In all honesty, she admired the dedication and thought that went into these clues.

Once she completed the crossword, it very obviously did not read out her admirer’s name like she had hoped. Rather, the answers prompted her to go to Jericho. Larissa pursed her lips, attempting to win against a budding smile as she shook her head. This is ridiculous. The final part of this clue spelling out Jericho also mentioned finding an outcast and a normie laughing together. Larissa didn’t know if she hated or loved that prospect, seeing as many Nevermore students had passes to Jericho this weekend. How many will be hanging out with a local, though? she asked herself while grabbing her overcoat and heading out the door.

—

“Alright, and what’s the plan?” you quizzed Enid on the ride over to Jericho.

In the passenger seat sat a wiggly werewolf who bounced her legs with excitement. In a singsong voice, she responded,“Hey now, give me some credit. I’m the one who suggested Lucas and I could give Principal Weems the next clue!”

“What if she asks who is orchestrating the scavenger hunt? How do I know you won’t crack under her prodding?” You narrow your eyes at her briefly before returning them to the road. You try to keep the tone light while still voicing your concerns.

With a small scoff, Enid confidently replies, “Please, one time Thing accidentally spilled nail polish on Wednesday’s typewriter, and I was an iron trap. If I can handle Wednesday Addams, I think I can handle Weems.” She ends the statement with her arms crossed, seemingly very proud of herself. To be fair, that was impressive. “Besides, I’m on the side of true love. This idea is so romantic!” Oh my god was all you could think to yourself at that statement. Once parked, you and Enid walk into the center of the square to wait for the normie component of this clue.

“What are we doing here again?” Lucas, the mayor’s son, questioned once he was in front of Enid. She sheepishly glanced at you and back to Lucas and then swiftly elbowed him in the side. It was kind of cute how seriously she was taking this.

You’ve done all you can do, so all you can do now is hope for the best. You put your hand on Enid’s shoulder and reassure her, “If you need anything, just give me a signal and excuse yourself. I’ll be watching from the Weathervane.” Well, mainly you’re reassuring yourself.

—

Once in Jericho, Larissa felt it an insurmountable task to search every store and outdoor area for the right outcast and normie. It didn’t help that she automatically parked in her usual spot, which happened to be by the flower shop. Getting out of her car, Larissa saw that very florist outside, pruning and watering plants. He noticed her and waved. She could feel a scowl on her lips, so she looked away, pretending to not have seen his friendly gesture. At least that’s one person that the admirer couldn’t be…

Having walked past the flower shop, Larissa cups her hands over her eyes to look inside Uriah’s Heap. She can’t imagine a normie having fun in the morbid antique shop, but she’s nothing if not thorough. After being satisfied that Uriah’s Heap did not contain her next clue, Larissa turned around to consider where to search next.

Before she can decide to go into another store, she sees Enid. Actually, she sees multiple Nevermore students. It’s a beautiful day, and many students want to make the most of their time before classes officially begin. Curiously, though, all of the other students are with Nevermore peers, and here is Enid with the mayor’s son. Larissa wouldn’t have pegged them to be friends.

Attempting to take control of the situation, Larissa came straight up to them. “Enid? Young Mr. Walker?”

“Principal Weems! Wow. Hi!”

For a brief moment, Larissa considered if running into them was a red herring. There was always a possibility that at a boarding school, the person sending her gifts and love notes could be a student with a harmless crush. Could Enid be the admirer? Larissa had always considered Enid to be like a daughter or menteé. She had felt protective of her, especially when Enid’s own mother made some questionable choices at the last parents’ weekend. Larissa pushed the thought to the furthest recesses of her mind; the person from those letters had a connection with her that no one else compared to. Well, almost no one else.

“What are you-” Larissa began but was cut off by Enid’s excited voice. “You should try to find the building with the most stories!”

“I assume this is the next clue?” Larissa stood in the familiar pose she often used to command attention. Combined with her height and immaculate dress, it simply wasn’t hard. “Enid, I’m terribly busy with finalizing spring semester contracts, schedules, and arrangements. I need to know who has enlisted your help. I know you know more than you are letting on.”

In an effort to be defiant, Enid asked, “What do you mean, Principal Weems? What help?” Her face gave her away, though. Her lips were pressed together firmly, as if she was attempting to hold back a grin.

Larissa considered escalating, but before she could, the young girl interrupted again with a determined look, “Remember, find the building with the most stories.” With that, she grabbed Lucas’s wrist and skipped off, pulling him behind her. All Larissa heard was next was a distant, “Byeeeeee, Principal Weems!”

Larissa is a bit surprised Enid could hold out, but the young werewolf’s evasiveness helped in that regard. Sitting underneath her gaze made Enid uncomfortable. Larissa remembers a time when she pressed the girl on Wednesday’s whereabouts the night Crackstone’s crypt flooded and the water was dyed red. Enid promptly confessed after Larissa put on a semi-firm voice and a stern look of disappointment.

Back to this never ending task of uncovering the identity of her secret admirer, Larissa thought. Bars have quite a lot of stories… The only bar in Jericho is the Rabbit’s Foot Tavern, and the only tales it holds are repetitive small town musings and desires to leave the town behind.

Though it seems like a long shot, it’s her only lead. As Larissa headed in the direction of the bar, she began to pass the bookstore. She only made it two more feet before she stopped in her tracks. There are thousands of stories there!

Feeling pleased with herself, she steps inside only to be met with a tired clerk that is paid too little to care about town shenanigans. The worker behind the counter gives Larissa a sticky note with specific numbers from the Dewey Decimal System. He doesn’t even look up from his phone. Larissa blinks slowly and gestures appreciatively before she heads to the 700s, somewhere in Arts & Recreation.

The “book” that she finds at the detailed location is actually a mix CD on the shelf disguised as a musicology textbook. Torn between feeling excited to have a new playlist and determined the find the next clue, Larissa pushes herself to continue and try to examine the cover, rather than only appreciating it. The track listing is unlike the previous CDs, so she begins to break down what she assumes is a code. Finally, Larissa cracks it: “Make a wish, but don’t take a drink.”

—

Once you watch Larissa disappear inside the bookstore, you leap into action. Hopefully you’ll have enough time to sit out all the lilies before she figures out the next clue. Thankfully, Enid offers to help (and makes Lucas assist). Even James briskly walks over with an armful of lilies. You appreciate the kind gestures and make a mental note to send everyone thank you after this is all over. You’re not sure how long it takes, but your calves and lower back ache from the manual labor. You all successfully sit out hundreds of lilies planted in recycled Weathervane cups. Thank goodness the new barista, Emily, was on board to save as many used paper cups as she could throughout her shifts over the week.

When Larissa makes her way to the town square fountain from the bookstore, you are safely back inside the Weathervane, becoming more and more anxious as you realize she is so close to finding out you’re completely smitten with her and have been keeping it from her. However, she stands at the fountain, unmoving, for much longer than anticipated.

Larissa did not expect this—the humble lily of the valley, her favorite flower. She had never been gifted them. When she was younger and pining after Morticia, Larissa remembered getting the other woman an entire slew of flowers. Dark, moody flowers. Orchids. Carnivorous plants. Anything she thought Morticia would like. In return, when Morticia asked about Larissa’s favorite flower, she ended up giving her lilies. Larissa thought lilies were beautiful, but she had always adored lily of the valley. It hurt that Morticia did not care enough to get her the correct flowers, because it symbolized so much more when it came to their relationship.

The lily of the valley is always overlooked, considered modest and unimposing. Of all people Larissa thought Morticia would appreciate that every single aspect of the flower is poisonous. Now Larissa is at a loss for who arranged this scavenger hunt, because she hasn’t told a soul about what this flower means to her in years. Before she can intervene, tears begin to fall from Larissa’s eyes, staining her face. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, surrounded by hundreds of lily of the valley, Larissa takes a few minutes to appreciate the flowers, almost as if she is mending her relationship to them.

After awhile, Larissa stands, smooths out the creases in the front of her clothes and takes a deep, filling breath in. As she can infer from the cups, the next stop is the Weathervane.

At the Weathervane, Larissa takes notice that it is unusually empty for a Saturday. She strolls around the counter and then the seating areas, examining the area for any clues. Her eyes glance quite a bit to the booth she normally shares with you. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except for the much smaller amount of people she would expect.

When Larissa internally questions if this is the wrong destination, the barista calls out “Larissa” and sits a mug in the “pick-up” area before going back to make the rest of the drinks in the queue. Scrawled on the cup are the words “sit where you are most comfortable.” That doesn’t seem like much of a clue, she surmises incredulously.

The task at hand proves to be more difficult than expected. Larissa looks to her regular booth, the one you two often shared. Is that where I am most comfortable? She wants to face the door, to surveil the inside of the café for any changes. However, she normally lets you sit in that direction; Larissa liked to have her focus on you instead of the bustling environment. Longing for that familiarity wins out, and Larissa takes a seat facing the back of the Weathervane.

No more clues. You knew that was the last one. Once Larissa sits in her usual spot, you phase through the back wall near the bulletin board. Astonished, the taller woman steps up and out of the seat with a slight gasp.

Before preparing to explain the past several months and your previously concealed ability, you proclaim, in what you hope is the most impressive way possible, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but you owe me a hot chocolate date.”

You slide into the booth opposite to Larissa, waiting for her to sit back down.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged or have your tag taken off future posts. :)

[lord-of-simons-ghost]

LOTF HEADCANONS >:)

This is going to be a list of my on-island/book time period headcanons (HINT NOT CANON). The majority are my own, and some are my "adopted" headcanons. Each section will be headed! Pre/post island headcanons will be done later since this is super long already

I'm sorry for any grammatical errors or inconsistencies

TWS: Mentions of character death, religious stuff, Implied child death

This is LOTF content, so expect it to be a little dark! Take care of yourself <3

Island/Time Period

- Took place in the late 40s/early 50s. Not during/post WW2 but instead during a new fictitious war caused by nuclear threats in Europe. This is why the boys were sent away from their boarding school in the UK (I'll elaborate on this in a bit).

-The island itself was decent sized with 3 beaches: The meetings/crash took place on the largest beach of the island, which faced West.

-The center of the island was dense woods and heavy foliage. Pig runs ran throughout the entire center and led out to the eastern side of the island.

-Castle Rock and Fire Mountain were to the north, meaning shelters/bathing pools were on the southwest side of the island. Shelters were originally going to be built closer to the mountain.

-After the first fire, the northern side of the island lost the majority of the trees around the mountain. This is one of the reasons the shelters were shifted to the West.

-The island had amazing sunsets, so Ralph would try to have their non-emergency meetings around this time to have as many of the kids witness them as possible. Usually worked.

-Castle Rock was lower down in elevation than Fire Mountain, but it had a very good view of the whole island. It had a ledge above a part of the Eastern beach (where the pigs often lay. This is where Piggy dies. The feast took place in the westeast).

-The boys were on the island for 5 1/2 months.

The Biguns

Choir boys will be highlighted blue

Ages (oldest to youngest): Jack (13), Maurice (13), Roger (13), Ralph (13), Simon (12), Robert (12), Piggy (12), Eric (11), Sam (11), Bill (11)

[sorry if I forgot anyone, these are just the ones I have ages for. Choir has roughly 6 more members in my hcs. ]

-Took the choir a week or so to remember everyone else's names (-Piggy).

-Didn't really mind if someone stayed behind during hunts earlier on, but as time progressed, Jack and Roger would get more and more annoyed. Ralph, Simon and Piggy never joined but helped prepare the pig once or twice before roasting it.

- The majority of them, even Jack and Ralph, would have nightmares later on (think around the time Samneric found the parachutist) and it would put everyone on even more of an edge.

-Arguments would break out within the Choir boys frequently (mainly Roger and Maurice), and Simon or Ralph would have to mediate them. It became the norm until Jack overtook as chief.

-Roger was really the only biggun that wanted to join Jack in the end, even though Ralph kinda sucked. None of them really liked Jack OR Ralph (- Simon, Piggy and Samneric).

-Roger got the most into the final hunt, commanding everyone and instructing them how to hunt Ralph alongside Jack. They scared the littluns that were a part of the tribe and the younger biguns. Everyone enjoyed it in the moment, don't get me wrong, but like. Once that Naval officer showed up, they were INSTANTLY feeling guilty and horrible. (-Jack and Roger. They took time)

Individual Biguns

Jack:

- Kept his choir uniform throughout the duration on the island. Reminded him of when life was less complicated.

- Would still rehearse with the choir for the first month or so before everyone got too involved in the island to care. Jack would still sing whilst doing busy work, fire duty, or meetings to bring comfort to himself.

-Never hated Ralph. He felt very conflicted when interacting with him and was jealous of his authoritative role. He ultimately didn't want Ralph to abandon/hate him, and when this happened, Jack felt extremely betrayed. Even when hunting him at the end, Jack never felt hatred but rather power hungry.

- He and Ralph were friends for 3 or so months and would hang out often. They confided in each other and were actually really close.

- Suffered with anxiety episodes on the island.

- His hair grew so long to the point Simon showed him how to tie it into a bun with plants. He kept it like that for the rest of his time on the island.

- Watched the sunset with Simon, and they would hang out and rely on each other during the night. Jack didn't want to be seen with him during the day, but he would always pick him for hikes and stuff if he needed to bring someone else along.

- Speaking of Simon, Jack didn't realise it was him during the dance until it was too late to do anything. He grieved with the other choir boys and remained to feel guilty for a while. Jack (and sometimes the others) would go out to the beach where he died and make flower crowns, plant boats, stuff like that, and would send them into the ocean as a way to remember and say thank you to Simon.

- He and Roger are besties, and it's very cheesy

- Bathed a little more regularly than the others but not as often than he should have

- Rarely got sleep on the island and when he did it wasn't good sleep. Ran on adrenaline most days

- Loved being able to put on the clay mask because it covered his "ugliness"

- Lost a significant amount of his hearing during the plane crash/war and had a hard time navigating that on the island. Never really mentioned it to anyone until months after being rescued (this is partly @mccall-me-maurice 's headcanon and I love it so much)

Maurice:

- Gremlin, always caused problems and blamed it on Roger (I hc them as cousins)

- Smiled so frequently to the point it freaked Ralph out. The choir boys are used to it.

- Smiled as a way to mask since he hated talking about his feelings and felt if he smiled no one would ask if he was okay (mecore)

- Not very helpful but did what he was told....sometimes

- Didn't get along with the littluns (stupid sandcastles) and would tease them/stick his tongue out at them.

- Hyped up Jack's ideas but also listened to Ralph when he was chief

- Extroverted

- Didn't really put on a mask when hunting since it inched his face but he would paint his body to blend in better.

- Stinky boi

- Friends with the biguns and felt a little disappointed Ralph didn't want to join Jack's tribe

Roger:

- Quiet (unless he's being snarky) when in large groups but would become extroverted around Jack/Maurice

- Got bored so often he just caused chaos

- Had a hard time communicating his genuine thoughts into words so Jack would help him talk to the other boys.

- Sarcastic and kind of a smart-ass, especially to Ralph and Piggy

- Always mixed up the twins and started just pointing and calling one of them "you"

- Middle-child syndrome.

-Felt he did everyone a favor when he dropped the Boulder on Piggy.

- Friends with Simon, but they really only interacted pre-island (Kinda like with Jack, didn't want to be seen with him becuase he thought it would make him "batty")

-Perfered to do things in solitude or duos

- Had a very dark way of thinking about things and people. He still longed for authority and normalcy but thought of people as evil, and only a select few were "good." It's very contradicting, and Roger has a hard time navigating his thoughts.

- Always had intricate paintings whenever the group would redo their masks.

Ralph:

- Saw the beach and was all like "So much room to do cartwheels"

- Would watch the sunrises with Simon

- Got really bad migraines often and would have to be out of commission for a few days. Jack would take over and make a small army

- Always thinking about how life was before, what his family/friends were up to, etc...

- Didn't actually want to be chief and hated it for a while but grew to enjoy the authority that came with it

- Stole all of Piggy's ideas and would act like they were his own

- Would help the littluns but never enjoyed it

- Slept like an egg 🥚 (curled up in a ball almost)

- Would go on walks frequently to try and clear his head. Overthought everything, often stressing himself out over it and needing to then take another mental break

- Loved loved loved watching fire burn, even in the end

- Friendly towards everyone (on occasions) but only considered Piggy and Simon to be his friends (+ Jack for a few months)

- Felt really hurt that Jack turned on him. Ralph hated him for a bit but got over it eventually (like waaaaay post island)

Simon:

- Loved catching critters/bugs and showing them to Ralph. He would tell him their species, what they ate, etc

- Nocturnal. Literally was up almost all night just roaming the forest, doing fire duty, helping littluns, stuff like that

- Helped paint intricate designs on the choir boys the first time they proposed the idea to him because he wanted to paint something.

- Would make patterns in the sand, let the sea wash them away, and repeat the process

- Very calm and quiet. Didn't hate anyone

- Had a crush on Ralph but tried very hard to hide it. (Worked pretty well!)

- Loved the littluns with every bone in his body because they reminded him of his younger siblings. Did everything in his power to make sure they were comfortable.

- Despite being "friends" with Jack, Simon never agreed with his morals/ideas and found Ralph's more sensible. However, he didn't like either in an authoritarian role and thought they all should have been in charge and involved in making decisions.

- Knew he was going to die that night but wanted to warn the others/see them one last time

- Poetic. He would tell poems to anyone who would listen

- Calmed down fights, anxiety attacks, etc....

- Epileptic and hypoglycemic (constantly growing faint, so he tried to stay out of the sun as much as possible and take breaks when needed)

- Thought that the Lord of the Flies was God punishing him for his sins (he literally had none)

- Prayed often to bring comfort to himself

(I have literally no headcanons for Robert ;-;)

Piggy:

- Actually 🤓☝️ (I'm joking I swear)

- Got his feelings hurt easily but tried to hide it when he was sad

- Always thought of what he was going to bake with his Auntie when he got home

- Constantly came up with actually good ideas but never got to share them since Ralph kinda blew them off

- Had a few asthma attacks on the island (like 2 + the Canon one) and Simon and Bill would help him out

- Got very overwhelmed by the littluns but tried to keep them accounted for and safe

- Did the analytical jobs on the island and was helpful with counting supplies

- Enjoyed watching fish swim in the streams/ocean

- Constantly feared for his safety when Jack/Roger were near

- Didn't want to share his name in fear of being even more humiliated and ultimately forgot who he was other than "Piggy"

- Knew he wasn't coming back from Caslte Rock

- Bad at emotionally heavy situations

Eric:

- Enjoyed hunting even though he wasn't very good at it

- Always did the rough/physical jobs when possible since he hated feeling weak at home

- Corrected the others when they called him Sam

- Loves his brother but got annoyed with him frequently

- Didn't swim more often than needed because he was scared of sharks

- Wanted to protect Sam so he stayed close at all times

- Had probably the most fun out of everyone on the island because he had Sam with him

- Always eager to try new things/help out

- Seemed to get comfy quicker than everyone else

- Favored Jack and his tribe in the beginning but quickly changed up when Jack started going coo coo

- Had an attitude

Sam:

- Hated hunted. It grossed him out. He went anyway to stay near Sam

- Perfered to swim on the beach and hang with the littluns rather than helping Ralph with labor

- Loved the ocean

- Got annoyed with how protective Sam was of him since it made him feel small

- Enjoyed Castle Rock and the view that came with it

- Favored Ralph from the beginning and would do *somethings* that he told Sam to do. Was quick to suggest to Eric that they helped Ralph when possible

- Bird watched with Piggy and Simon

- Just overall a sweetheart to everyone

Bill:

- The only headcanon I have for Bill is that he was essentially the nurse of the island, and everyone would go to him for help. He learned all this stuff from his mom, who was a war nurse and just was super super helpful with keeping everyone from getting too badly hurt (this is also another adopted headcanon!)

Littluns

- Tried to start their own tribe and overthrow the older kids (didn't work)

- Has opinions about things and felt ignored most of the time

- Like 80% didn't make it off the island....

- Really just chilled in the sun all day

- Had fun throwing spears at Ralph in the end

- Really just did what they saw Jack do

- HATED RALPH

IM FINALLY DONE!! THIS TOOK A WEEK 😭

[iepurasdepraf]

I'm posting something, I know....shocking. The first part of likely many. No warnings as of yet. Gender Neutral Reader and Jonathan Crane. No specific one, just my version of him. Well, one of my versions of him. I hope you enjoy.

How did you get talked into this? How did you get here? Playing with the slowly warming steel of an industrial chain from the privacy gate you had to unlock on your way up the drive. Between the jangle of the chain between your fingers and the fight to keep your supper down from the greasy spoon diner you had taken a pit stop at you were in a strange state of near prayer, the links serving as the beads of your impromptu rosary. The only other sound besides the none too gentle roar of the old pickup you were sat in was the constant gnawing of your driver on a splintered toothpick. The mint taste was probably completely leached out by now. You had to wonder how he wasn’t getting splinters in his tongue and gums, but it seemed to help with his anxiety so who were you to wonder too much about it?

The remaining headlight of the Ford cut through the pitch black that had been suddenly dropped on you both like two kittens trapped under a moving box. The smog and light pollution from Gotham choking out the night sky. No stars. No moon. Even the few miles you were outside of her. Sometimes there would be a reflector or two on the edge of the old once gravel now near entirely dirt road and you could catch a glimpse of the silver crowns glinting as they sat atop his crooked greyed teeth in the scant glances you dared to take of him. There wasn’t a pattern to what had been either capped or entirely removed and replaced. The contents of his mouth were like if God threw dice in his mouth and they’d been left where they lay. You’d never seen anyone with grey teeth like his, but it didn’t seem like something polite to ask about. You didn’t want to make him anymore self-conscious than he already was.

How in the hell did you talk HIM into this? Never mind you getting there. That made sense. Sometimes you just got obsessed with stupid shit and did something impulsive. Ending up going ghost hunting wasn’t the most out of pocket thing one could do. But him? How had you talked Jonathan Crane into tagging along? Really, there hadn’t been too much talking him into anything. You’d mentioned it off hand as a way to prove once and for all to him specifically that ghosts were real. You’d written him an email, asking him for his professional opinion on ghosts. Why not, right? It couldn’t have really be his email address you found on that forum page. You hadn’t expected him to even get it, let alone read it and reply. He was the fucking Scarecrow! Who knew why he did. He wasn’t giving any answers. Maybe there simply wasn’t anything else to do in Arkham. Maybe he had just been in a silly goofy mood.

‘I don’t believe in ghosts.’ That simple reply had led to a twice weekly back and forth for months via messenger and email. And it hadn’t taken long for you to grow to enjoy the electronic head butting. Looking forward to that little green dot appearing next to his profile on your friend’s list, that giddy ping of the messenger, of the email notification. Every Monday and Friday, like clockwork. He got an hour on the computer and you two would go back and forth nearly without blinking so as to not waste the milliseconds until his hour was up. If your day was ruined and, God forbid, you happened to miss his message you’d have a small book of an email impatiently waiting on you, no doubt chastising you for your poor time management in the subject column.

Then one day you got a happy little ping on a Wednesday. No one else messaged you that way so it could only be one person. “I’m being released.” Your first phone call with him was breathless and near entirely stammered while he hardly said a thing. He was being released early for good behavior. Seems the model inmate act he’d put on for those precious hours of computer time had paid off in spades. So here he was, ankle monitor and all, next to you in his old hunk of junk pickup that he’d given you the money to get out of the impound for him the day of his release. The day you’d met in person for the very first time. The day you agreed to prove ghosts were real to him while you drove him to his group home while he clutched all his remaining worldly possessions in a brown paper bag. He had nothing and you’d wanted to give him a reason to wake up in the morning. You’d wanted to make sure he knew he had a friend. Good lord, where had that gotten you? After the adrenaline wore off you were left drenched in sweat and maybe some tears alone in your apartment after you’d gotten an Uber back not knowing if you’d wake up in the morning or what because you’d never actually thought about what you were saying. It never occurred to you he’d get out. That he’d want to actually meet you.

You shiver and snap out of your mental oubliette, getting Crane’s attention on accident. “You alright, pumpkin?” His voice was low and wispy. Nearly hadn’t heard the question over the truck at all. He was making a point to speak gently. Likely so he didn’t spook you, ironically. You’d looked him up on Youtube. Listened to some of his old interviews and lectures. You knew how he sounded and the way he’d always spoken to you wasn’t what he sounded like. Not even slightly. You weren’t entirely sure if the softer tone was worse or better for your frayed nerves.

“Yeah!” You assured with a quick smile “Just zoned out.” His eyebrows arched slightly. “Saw you shiver. Not too cold, are you?” You shake your head “No, no, no. I’m okay. I promise.” He gives you a glance of a look then his eyes are back on the road. Hming slightly before saying “Alright.” and not pressing further. You actually were freezing, but this was the first time he’d been able to enjoy ac in God knows how long so you weren’t about to take that from him, especially after looking into Arkham on your own and seeing how completely miserable it was.

As you tried not to let your mind dwell on him calling you pumpkin you went back to fiddling with the chain. It was harder than it should have been because he’d said it all soft and sweet. No. Stop that right now. You’re not a hybristophiliac. He’d taught you that word. That’s what he thought you were before he read the “funny little email” you’d written. Didn’t help you’d titled it ‘I could use your expertise’. Probably should have ‘I’m here to argue’ or ‘How can you believe in aliens, but not ghosts?’ Well. You wouldn’t have known to name it that at the time, but-

“We’re here.”

You jolted and apparently you weren’t just there, but you’d been there for a while because the truck was off and he was just sitting there looking at you with his hands folded neatly over his tummy. Amused. So deeply amused by you and wherever your head was that obviously wasn’t beside him. He didn’t ask again if you were alright. He just waited quietly to see what you’d do next. Like a cat watching a fish in a bowl or at least that’s how it felt. You could nearly make out those hazel eyes in the darkness of the cab of the truck, even with their color tainted by the glow of the dashboard lights.

“Ah..hm.” You let go of the chain and let it clank to the floorboard with it’s padlock to put your hand on the slightly out of place handle “Let’s get this bread!” You…fucking idiot. Why did you say that? What’s wrong with you? He didn’t react at all which didn’t make it worse, but didn’t make it better either. What did make it worse was when you went to push the door open it only opened slightly with a loud shunk. Leaving you sitting there for a minute with wide eyes. You looked back at him and gave a nervous laugh then started jiggling the handle, but it wouldn’t open anymore than it was. Fuck. Then you had the second fright of your life when his long-fingered hand slowly crept into your peripheral vision. You might have yelped. You did. Don’t pretend you didn’t, especially to yourself. You’ll look crazy.

He eased into your space, closer than he’d ever been before. A few locks on his auburn hair spilling onto your shoulder because as lithe as he was naturally, he was still reaching across the cab of a large truck. Crane took hold of the lock latch and plucked it up, unlocking the door for you, then sat back. Making a little motion with his hand for you to go on. “Aha, ah…thank you.” You hurried out of the car knowing if you lived long enough, you’d be thinking about every second of that dorkass event with shame that would keep you up for years to come. The night couldn’t get worse…

Could it?

[jackalgirl-01]

Unlikely Allies (Infidget Discord Secret Santa 2023 gift exchange) [complete]

Sticky note/Author's note: Christmas/Secret Santa gift for mamma panda on discord

********

It was something unexpected to say at least, he knows that both he and him have different ideals on how the region will be ruled. The alchemist know this when he agreed to headed towards the warlock’s domain. The air is silents when he entrance the omnibus laid, the only source of lighting is through the opening of the broken windows of old castle. that once was inhabited by a royal family that seem to had kept the castle from decaying over the years, but now it sat in collecting dust and cobwebs that make the red wolf a bit uneasy. With the thoughts that there’s a possibly that there’s creatures within the castle’s walls make this place their home.

The cold stone floor and corridors guiding Gadget to reach his destination slowly and carefully avoiding any obstacles that were within his way that will cause any distribution to the invisible inhabitants. The deeper the alchemist walk within the castle the less light and windows seem to illuminate the area. The wolf was given clear instructions to find the warlock, pleased him to help him safe the innocents from his village from being attack by the tyrant king who lose his mind into madness from the power, wealth, and collection of magical artifacts in his collection. There was so much that the wolf can do to protective his village but fighting against the king’s advanced army isn’t one of them. There were rumors spreading that the warlock was once an ally to the king who betrayed him by stealing one of his price artifact. Letting greed clouded his mind costing him, his family and life, that the artifact he steal was either cruse or was posses by a demon that grant him magical abilities but at a price.

Some say that the artifact taken control of his body and mind becoming a puppet with no free will of it’s own, while other say it was a deal he made with a demon that made him lose everything he loved and cherished. Whatever the reason might be or that the rumors might be true the young alchemist had his quest that required to be fulfilled. He just hope that things are going to run smoothly when he come face to face with him in person.

The sound of the coven boiling is music to his ears and everything is going according to the warlock’s plan. He spent the entire of the day to hunt down items he needed for personal project that he been working on for months. Of course he had difficulties with the merchants to sell or trade the ingredients to him due to the rumors that keep floating around the region. It pay him no mind for whatever ridiculous lies the region inhabitants tend to believe in it doesn’t bother him one bit. Even now that they see him as a threat even fear him do to his powers and appearance, giving him his current reputation among the populate. And it couldn’t be help in anything form of verbal discussion to charge their minds otherwise and the jackal is fine by this outcome even tho he secretly wish to not terrific the children when he went into town.

The jackal warlock went back to his personal project and independent studies of witchcraft to help him prefect his own craft without anyway drawbacks. He already wasted time on letting his thoughts wonder without a care in the world almost forgetting about the coven. He went to his storage to grab the next ingredient on the list when he hear something or someone approaching towards his direction. Without hesitation the young warlock place the item down on one of his books and put on his helmet to hide his face and infidelity preparing himself to fight whoever or whatever decided to trespass in his home.

Gadget seem to be walking for ages given the amount of walking he have to do through the narrow passage that lead to an type of lab of some kind. The fire brighten the room with the coven still hot showing sign of usage and the owner is still nearby or in the room still. The young alchemist start to look around the the area cautionary avoiding touching anything of value. His leather belt holding his potions in place softly and quietly clack against each other and the surface of the something resealable as a table awhile the wolf search. The alchemist spotted wolf bane on top of an opened book of an spell of some type that peak his curiosity. Gadget was about to have an closer look at the contain when he feel something holding him back, preventing him from moving forward towards the area.

“That’s quite far enough! State your purpose here moral, and return back to your comfort home! If you’re foolish enough to not heady my warning, I won’t hesitate to kill you at this very moment!” a hash angering voice spoke right behind him, causing the red wolf alchemist to flicks in flight and almost drop one of his exiles that he brewed this morning before leaving on his journey. The red wolf slowly rise his hands up in form of surrendering or shown he isn’t an threat to the voice owner. Slowly the young alchemist turn around be careful not make any any sudden body movements that might be seen as him reaching an weapon.

When the wolf finally turned around, he was face to face with the person he was assigned to offer for help to protective his town. The target of all these rumors that may or may not be true with the warlock’s origins. The jackal warlock staring at him intimidating wearing his omnibus black and purple entire with his metal helmet and hands glowing an fade magenta. The alchemist stare at the warlock’s chest, then at the his yellow eyes covered with an red protective firmament of his helmet. The silent between them was fill of tension that even an drop of an pin is unwise to act between the two candida. Time seen to either move back and forward and either of them say an word to each other, until the alchemist find hos courage to speak up.

“S-sorry to in turd on your domain Mr. Warlock, but I’m here by orders of my village’s elder to request your assailant to help us. And I believe it’s worthy your time to hear me out first before killing me on the time.” Gadget say hearing that his own voice is still shaky from the tension in the room and the possible danger he’s in with a skilled an experience sorcerer in his prescient.

The jackal stare at him for few more second then cancel his prepare enchantment with the magenta glow slowly faded out of sight then slowly relax his stance still keeping his demeanor and glare toward him.

“Alright little wolf state your business, and I’ll deiced whatever or not I’ll let you continue to lived a happy cozy life that doesn’t involve me in your silly mortal’s screw ups or whatever the children say these days, messes, fucked ups? It’s doesn’t matter to me otherwise, please enlighten with your owe sad tale and I’ll give you an final judgment.”

The jackal take a seat on a nearby boulder without taking his glare off him while the alchemist regain himself and take an seat on an old rusty pail that was once used to fetch water from an nearby well or lake. That is now uses as an basket or an complete different purpose that the warlock might use in the future. Gadget steady himself on the small object and begin telling the jackal his troubling tale about the mad king’s lost of reality and his corruption affected his army to the point they have to do his dirty work. Also with the injustice and destruction he leave behind in his wake by each villages, cities, and towns he come across in his path.

When the wolf his tale the jackal was deep in thoughts conflicting with himself to even help this young male soul to defended his home from his former boss. Yes, his former double-crossed snake of a ruler that hid his true intention from his dear royal innocents subjects. Of course his madness form and worsen from the after effects of the ruby’s power after prolong exposure and lack of care that fool never see it coming, and in the end he pay the prices but at the cost of innocents.

The warlock got up from his seat and silently went to prepare a few of his belongings that are esstanissle for this type of quest. And grab an empty old traveling bag and start packing the items in his bag. Then put everything in his lab to a stop, put out the fire, and cover the cauldron with an old table cloth, while the wolf watch in awe. The jackal have everything ready now and stare back at the young freckles face of his parnter who is awestuck.

“Alright, Alchemist, you have converse me to join forces with you, to stop the king from destorying your home. But I need something in exchange as an return for my services once this is all over. This is an fair and agreement for both parties involed. It could be anything that seem fits, for now let’s not worry about that, we have bigger protities to deal with.”

Gadget noded quickly in agreement already freedoming himself from his awestuck phase, he get up, dust himself off, and place the bucklet back to it rightful place. Then he look at the warlock without any fear displaying on his body.

“Alright we better hurry and get an move on then. Also, sir, I know tis is rude of me to not ask before but can I please know your name?”

The jackal looked a bit stunned by the wolf request and stare a him in confusation.

“My name? Whatever for lad?”

“You see sir, since we’ll be adverturing and working toghter for who knows how long, I think is best for us to call each other by a first name basics. since we can’t keep calling ourselves sir for the long run. Name’s Gadget by the way, an pleasure to make your appicences sir.” the wolf say smiling conflictly that his freckles seem to streches across his cheeks with his hands toward him to offer him a shake.

The warlock look at him for a moment and take the alchemist’s hand and shake it lightly with a soft grip to preventing his sharp claws from breaking the skin.

“Name’s Infinite, and it’s a pleasant to work and fight along side you young Alchemist Gadget. Now let’s solve our problemtic king’s problem shall we?”

[sea-owl]

In the isekai and yandere au instead of Felicity looking to remarry to run away from her feelings for Lucy and Gregory what if she was looking because she was pregnant?

Original post found here

Oh god, Felicity was going to be sick, and it wasn't the morning sickness this time.

“I’m pregnant,” Felicity announced in her sister’s drawing room.

Penelope stared at her sister. She put her teacup back down on the table. “Are you sure?”

Felicity nodded. “I have not had my courses for the past two months. At first I thought it had been the stressed with dealing with the inheritance but that has finally been resolved.”

Penelope observed her, in the way that made Felicity uncomfortable, like her sister was digging through her head. After a moment Penelope leaned forward. “Felicity tell me this now and I promise it will be taken care of. Were you forced?”

Forced? No, far from it. Stupidly drunk, but not forced. All of them had been drunk. They were celebrating after a successful hunt, happy emotions had been high. Felicity doesn’t remember who started it, probably her. She was the one dumb enough to fall in love with very married and very happily married friends. Friends who were kind of enough to take her and her daughter in when Felicity’s husband had passed. Now she was carrying her consequences in her womb.

Felicity shook her head. “No, it was accident. We were drunk, I barely remember anything, they have no idea it happened.”

Penelope looked disappointed, but Felicity felt like it was not directed at her. “Do you wish for me to get a special tea from Ms. Kazan? You will not have to worry about a baby then.”

Felicity put her hand to her stomach. “No.”

“That leaves us few options,” Penelope said. “You know the family will help you with whatever you choose, but your time is limited. Our best two options is either to hide you in the countryside or remarriage.”

Felicity bit her lip. She did not want another marriage, but she also refuses to ruin the marriage those she is deeply fond of. Maybe she’ll take one out of Prudence’s book and become a widow once more. She just has to make sure they believe the baby is not their’s.

“Geffory has a country home I can go to,” Felicity offered. “If you could gather names of those looking for an heir, by any means, then I can choose from that list.”

Penelope nodded. WIth a plan set Felicity left to gather her daughter and their things to leave for the country.

-

“I’m going to kill our siblings,” Penelope ranted to her husband later that night.

Colin raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Gregory, Lucy, and Felicity,” Penelope said. “Gregory and Lucy had foolishly taken liberties and now Felicity is pregnant.”

Colin sat up, his eyes narrowing. “Do they know?”

Penelope groaned. “No, and Felicity refuses to say anything. She has even asked me to gather a list of gentlemen desperate for heirs while she hides in the country. That is how desperate she is to hide this baby from Gregory and Lucy. Never mind the fact that there is a high chance the baby will more than likely look like the rest of their siblings. You Bridgerton all look ludicrously alike.”

“Well,” Colin said, “when Gregory and Lucy come storming over here looking for Felicity I will talk with them then.”

Two days later Colin’s prediction came true and he was greeted by Gregory and Lucy in the drawing room.

Colin immediately punched his younger brother.

“What were you two thinking doing something so stupid?!” Colin yelled. “Felicity had said you were drunk but I thought between the three of you one of you would have the brain power to stop! You are lucky Pen and I do not get Anthony or worse the mothers involved!”

Gregory pulled himself off the floor while Lucy looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“Felicity is pregnant.”

Gregory and Lucy both tensed. Who do they have to kill? It was bad enough they had to live through boring Mr. Albansdale, now some other rake had dared to touch their Felicity?

Colin rolled his eyes. “Don’t get yourselves up in a tizzy. That baby will come out looking like a Bridgerton. You have six months to fix this, possibly less since Felicity asked Penelope to gather list of names looking for an heir.”

Gregory and Lucy looked at one another. That night three months ago wasn’t a dream. They had Felicity in their bed. And now she was trying to leave?! Nope, absolutely not, the will crash a wedding if they have too.

“She’s at her country home,” Colin told them as they got up to leave.

-

When Felicity returned from her walk she was not expecting to see Harmonia and Hermione rushing past her.

“Hi Mama!” They both called as they rushed past.

“Hermione?” Felicity blinked, she took a step forward. “What are you doing-hmph!”

She was dragged into an empty drawing room, pulling out her pistol Felicity lowered it when she realized who it was.

“What are you doing here?” Felicity hissed.

Gregory and Lucy ignored her. One pressed their hands against her barely noticeable bump while the other began to loosen the fastenings on her dress. They both trapped her between them.

“Well we heard you had retired to the country side for your pregnancy,” Lucy said. “It would be rude of us to miss out on our baby so we came.”

Felicity felt a rush of possessiveness hit her. “You mean my baby.”

“Our baby, all three of us,” Gregory and Lucy corrected.

“All three of us were there during conception,” Gregory said. “So it’s fair to say the baby is all of our’s.”

“Just like how you are our’s and we are your’s,” Lucy added. She had finished loosening Felicity’s dress. It dropped down to her waist, Lucy add her own hands above the tiny bump.

Felicity’s face flushed.

Six months later Eurydice Bridgerton was born to three loving parents and a bunch of siblings.

[ave1dragon]

I should probably wait until the Guide actually comes out to do this, but I'm too excited. So here's the updated family structures from the Pyrrhian tribes. minor spoilers for the Guide. Will update again after full book is released.

Mudwings: While there are a few exceptions, Mudwings don't get married or have romance at all. There is a breeding night once a month to have eggs. The mother lays the eggs in rock walls and then leaves them, while most Mudwing moms don't want their eggs to come to harm, they don't raised the dragonets afterwards. The Mudwing dragonets are raised in groups of siblings, with the leader being the first hatched, or the Bigwings. Mudwings are mentioned to have schools in a lot of villages, the ones that don't learn everything from observation. Mudwings have a naming ceremony for themselves on the full moon.

Seawings: Seawings do get married and are mentioned to have great love stories, it seems to be expected that you have to get married in order to kids, given how Whirlpool said Queen Coral "could get married again" after Moray said there would be no more dragonets after King Gill died. It is mentioned by Clay that Seawings are raised by both parents.

Rainwings: Two Rainwings are said to have partners (Mangrove and Orchid, and Jambu and Pineapple), so there are Rainwing romances, but since Jambu said he and Glory were "probably half brother and sister," they aren't expected to, at least not in order to have kids. Rainwings dragonets are raised by the whole tribe and don't know their mothers and fathers.

Sandwings: Sandwings are mentioned in the story of the Mudwings Succession crisis to have great love stories, and they do get married most of the time. Cobra, however, had three dragonets and we are never told who the father is, so I'm assuming that it is ok to have dragonets outside of marriage, either that, or everyone's too scared of Cobra to say anything.

Skywings: Skywings don't seem to put a lot of stock in romance, since according to the guide, Skywings would chose a partner, but if they were too busy, they'd put their names on a list, and the queen would match them up, and if they liked each other enough, they'd get married. The marriages were small ceremonies in the sky where the partners would says some ritual words, and they didn't seem to have any audiences to observe them. Skywings would get married to have kids, and write it down in the Skywing ancestry scroll, but they might not stay together after the kids are raised, and they didn't seem to have a problem not getting married to raise dragonets if they were scared of Scarlet's death parties or how she would match them up. In the past, the Skywings would raise their kids until they were old enough to hunt, and then send them away, and the Skywings wouldn't generally contact their family afterwards, although this is changing, and many Skywing mothers at least are shown to care for their kids.

Nightwings: Nightwings in the past had romance, and Fierceteeth and Strongwings have a romance, so they still do. Nightwings are also said to be raised by two parents in The Dragonet Prophecy, and Farsight is kind of looked down upon for not knowing, or at least not saying, who Starflight's father is by Morrowseer. The Nightwings in Darkstalker's time mention marriage, but it is unknown if Nightwings still marry, since there are so few Nightwing dragonets. Nightwings do care very deeply for their children if they have any.

Icewings: We don't know a lot about Icewing marriages, especially not outside of the royal family, but we do know that the royal family arranges marriages and both parents raise the children.

It is important to note that there are outliers to the rules, as there are Rainwing and Mudwing romances, and at least Peril has a crush on Clay.

[the-batcats-mder]

Description of Book

About Her

Soulmates

[Posted on here on: July 2, 2024]

Chapter 1 Forest

Note: Don't hate me, but I'll like to state that I haven't watched Titans yet. I've seen clips, povs, and read some fanfics, but i haven't seen the show yet. I've seen in total like 1 or 3 episodes…. A year or two ago.

It's on the list of shows to watch, just not yet to be watched.

This is, of course, following the characters from the show, but I'm going off on something totally new. So, I won't be following the show anyway. Just wanted to state that right away that I haven't seen the show yet. So I can't fully take requests for the show… yet. I bet when I watch it fully, I'll be writing for it 🫣.

First posted on here: [July 1st, 2024]

(Might have to edit again, and might change name of book later on)

Chapter 1 Forest

Third person pov.

Forest, a nineteen year old teenage woman, peaks over her shoulders every few seconds as she does her trick of getting a car that she doesn't own to start working without its keys; doing so very quietly.

It didn't take Forest that long to get it started up and had the car moving fast down the road, leaving the motel behind so she could start another long day of trying to find her family.

Gotham was still dark out at this time of early morning.

Forest knew where she had to go. Working late last night, she found a possibility of where Dean and Sam Winchester could be.

Before she could go and check the place out, she knocked out and slept at least an hour before she was rudely awakened by the next motel room beside her being….. eighteen plus shit.

Her leaving so fast this morning wasn't just because of the maybe find of her siblings; it was also not being able to handle the whole,

‘PLEASE MORE’ ‘DADDY YES!’ screams of the next room.

So she left fast.

Today is October thirty-first. Halloween.

It's Halloween! Well, five in the morning on Halloween day. Still Halloween, though.

Half the population celebrates this ‘holiday’ and is looking forward to it when they wake up. Though, there are people who don't enjoy it or even celebrate it, maybe for religious purposes, or just don't celebrate it or, in general, hate the holiday.

For Forest and her brothers… they don't totally hundred percent hate the pagan holiday, but they do hate ninety-seven percent of it.

Maybe if it wasn't for the monsters, creatures and so on that people dress up for fun; were actually fake, then maybe it would be good fun for them too, but that's not their reality.

Almost every monster, creature and so on are real; and most of the time are causing more problems on Halloween day and night because they are able to do more than they can on October thirtieth or November first.

In general, Halloween is just ‘worse than normal’ for hunters.

So when the clock hit twelve o'clock, marking it as October thirty-first, she kind of dreaded it. She knew how this day and night might go.

Especially when she's in Gotham city trying to find her brothers because they once again went missing and probably needed saving.

Gotham City was one of the most active cities out there when it came down to the creatures, monsters, and so on. Now add Halloween to the mix; it was ‘worse’.

Today she had a time limit, before it hit dark out again, she needed to find her siblings.

She wasted too much time sleeping and trying to find any hints on where they could be.

Though, this wouldn't be happening if Dean and Sam weren't…. Stupid.

Dean and Sam Winchester were getting Forest really pissed off recently. For the past few months they keep on going on hunts without her; she's fine with that, never really cared about it now, but every time they do, she's having to track them down and save their ass's from getting killed or at least hurt really badly.

If they just brought her along, maybe, just maybe, things would go differently, and they wouldn't be wasting time on really anything.

She could be home watching a show on her long list of shows she wants to watch, or doing her own hunts; but they keep not bringing her or at least telling her where they are off too or what they are even hunting, causing a long ass search for them. A lot of the time, though, the hunts the fifth hunt, causing her to either pass them or have to go farther off to find them.

She's been to three different towns and cities before finding herself in Gotham city with a hopefully better lead than before.

It's been a month and three days so far, and it's just getting more annoying and frustrating. More than just one reason why.

One, she wants her brothers to be safe and so far she doesn't know if they are, two, to her she should have already found them and got this all dealt with already and it's not, three, as selfish as it sounds, she hasn't watched anything for this month and three days and all she kind of wants is to watch something or at least get more then three hours of sleep, but she can't because her brothers comes before shows and at times sleep.

So here she is, semi speeding down the back roads of Gotham city in a car she doesn't own going to where she thinks and hopes she needs to be going to. Hoping that it won't take long to get there too.

The sun is finally slowly peeking out now, casting the cold October air with some warmth.

Forest bounced her head and fingers to the music she's blasting. She loves when she has control of the music, she hardly has it when she's with her brothers because the driver gets to pick the music and the others keep their cake holes shut, so having the music choice all for herself she's taking every chances to blast what she wants to listen to… but she misses it though. She misses her brothers a lot. She wouldn't say it to their faces, but she does.

She kind of wants to be bickering in the backseat about why she can't play something she wants to play.

‘Ring!!!!’

“FUCK!”

The car came to a stop with a loud screeching noise. Her back hits the seat, and she groans, and she stops the music and picks up the call.

“Hello?”

---

Across Gotham city Dick Grayson is slowly getting ready for work.

Five pm was the time he had to clock into work. The last few things he was able to do before five were to do a quick workout before showering, eating, and then finally leaving for work.

He was dreading this work day. He knew what he was being put to work today, and he didn't want to do that job. He would rather be on a lead than scan the abandoned buildings around Gotham city.

It was so fucking boring to him. He didn't understand why he was put on this job when there are semi newbies that could be doing it.

He had no say, though. He had to do this or else he would be put to desk work and as much as driving around and checking if there is any activity in a place that's not supposed to be active is boring, it's not as boring as desk work.

So he just did what he wanted to do and then got ready for his work day.

Before he left, he got a quick kiss from Starfire.

“love you, baby!”

“Love you too!”.

Off goes Dick Grayson to his normal day (also at times night) job; the one without the masks and the badass ass kicking.

He was hoping this Halloween night would be a calm one.

Yeah, not going to be happening. This is Gotham City, after all.

And Halloween.

--------------

I hope you like it.

I’m sorry for any short chapters.

I'm also sorry for any bad grammar or spelling errors.

I would very much like to say thank you for taking the time to read my chapters, I really appreciate it.

----

There's warnings ⚠️ for a reasons. If you skip them, that's fine, but not my fault if you're taken back by what I write for.

----

[bookaddict24-7]

6 BOOKS BY BLACK AUTHORS THAT I’VE LOVED

This is the first list of many this month featuring black authors and their books! Feel free to add any books to the list that are written by black authors that you’ve loved!

___

1. Black Brother, Black Brother by Jewell Parker Rhodes

MG Contemporary Fiction

“Donte wishes he were invisible. As one of the few black boys at Middlefield Prep, he feels as if he is constantly swimming in whiteness. Most of the students don't look like him. They don't like him either. Dubbed the "Black Brother," Donte's teachers and classmates make it clear they wish he were more like his lighter skinned brother, Trey. Quiet, obedient. When an incident with "King" Alan leads to Donte's arrest and suspension, he knows the only way to get even is to beat the king of the school at his own game: fencing. With the help of a former Olympic fencer, Donte embarks on a journey to carve out a spot on Middlefield Prep's fencing team and maybe learn something about himself along the way.”

___

2. The City We Became by N.K. Jemisin

Adult Contemporary Fantasy

“Five New Yorkers must come together in order to defend their city. Every city has a soul. Some are as ancient as myths, and others are as new and destructive as children. New York City? She's got five. But every city also has a dark side. A roiling, ancient evil stirs beneath the earth, threatening to destroy the city and her five protectors unless they can come together and stop it once and for all.”

___

3. One True Loves by Elise Bryant

Young Adult Contemporary Romance

“Lenore Bennett has always been a force. A star artist and style icon at her high school, she’s a master in the subtle art of not giving a . . . well, you know what. But now that graduation is here, she’s a little less sure. She’s heading to NYU in the fall with a scarlet U (for “undeclared”) written across her chest. Her parents always remind her that Black kids don’t have the luxury of figuring it out as they go—they have to be 110 percent prepared. But it’s a lot of pressure to be her ancestors’ wildest dreams when Lenore’s not even sure what her dreams are yet. When her family embarks on a post-graduation Mediterranean cruise, her friend Tessa is sure Lenore’s in for a whirlwind romance. But Lenore knows that doesn’t happen in real life. At least not to girls like her. Then she meets Alex Lee. After their parents bond over the Cupid Shuffle, she ends up stuck with him for the remainder of the cruise. He’s a hopeless romantic and a golden boy with a ten-year plan. In short, he’s irritating as hell. But as they get to know each other during the picturesque stops across Europe, he may be able to help her find something else she’s been looking for, even if she doesn’t want to admit it to herself: love.”

___

4. Legendborn by Tracy Deonn

Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy

“After her mother dies in an accident, sixteen-year-old Bree Matthews wants nothing to do with her family memories or childhood home. A residential program for bright high schoolers at UNC–Chapel Hill seems like the perfect escape—until Bree witnesses a magical attack her very first night on campus. A flying demon feeding on human energies. A secret society of so called “Legendborn” students that hunt the creatures down. And a mysterious teenage mage who calls himself a “Merlin” and who attempts—and fails—to wipe Bree’s memory of everything she saw. The mage’s failure unlocks Bree’s own unique magic and a buried memory with a hidden connection: the night her mother died, another Merlin was at the hospital. Now that Bree knows there’s more to her mother’s death than what’s on the police report, she’ll do whatever it takes to find out the truth, even if that means infiltrating the Legendborn as one of their initiates. She recruits Nick, a self-exiled Legendborn with his own grudge against the group, and their reluctant partnership pulls them deeper into the society’s secrets—and closer to each other. But when the Legendborn reveal themselves as the descendants of King Arthur’s knights and explain that a magical war is coming, Bree has to decide how far she’ll go for the truth and whether she should use her magic to take the society down—or join the fight.”

___

5. Bad Witch Burning by Jessica Lewis

Young Adult Contemporary Fantasy & Paranormal

“Katrell doesn’t mind talking to the dead; she just wishes it made more money. Clients pay her to talk to their deceased loved ones, but it isn’t enough to support her unemployed mother and Mom’s deadbeat boyfriend-of-the-week. Things get worse, when a ghost warns her to stop the summonings or she’ll “burn everything down.” Katrell is willing to call them on their bluff, though. She has no choice. What do ghosts know about eating peanut butter for dinner? However, when her next summoning accidentally raises someone from the dead, Katrell realizes that a live body is worth a lot more than a dead apparition. And, warning or not, she has no intention of letting this lucrative new business go. But magic doesn’t come for free, and soon dark forces are closing in on Katrell. The further she goes, the more she risks the lives of not only herself, but those she loves. Katrell faces a choice: resign herself to poverty, or confront the darkness before it’s too late.”

___

6. Where the Rhythm Takes You by Sarah Dass

Young Adult Contemporary Romance

“Seventeen-year-old Reyna has spent most of her life at her family’s gorgeous seaside resort in Tobago, the Plumeria. But what once seemed like paradise is starting to feel more like purgatory. It’s been two years since Reyna’s mother passed away, two years since Aiden – her childhood best friend, first kiss, first love, first everything – left the island to pursue his music dreams. Reyna’s friends are all planning their futures and heading abroad. Even Daddy seems to want to move on, leaving her to try to keep the Plumeria running. And that's when Aiden comes roaring back into her life – as a VIP guest at the resort. Aiden is now one-third of DJ Bacchanal – the latest, hottest music group on the scene. While Reyna has stayed exactly where he left her, Aiden has returned to Tobago with his Grammy-nominated band and two gorgeous LA socialites. And he may (or may not be) dating one of them… Inspired by Jane Austen's Persuasion, Where the Rhythm Takes You is a romantic, mesmerizing novel of first love and second chances.”

___

Have you read any of these? Would you recommend them?

___

Happy reading!

[fanfics4all]

Banished

Request: Yes / No  roan x reader (smut preferably) where you get banished from skaikru about a month in after landing on earth and you meet roan. since he’s wounded and you’re a healer you patch him up and end up travelling together and become rlly close?? idk i read your trick or treat fic and it was my favourite roan fic i’ve read (and i’ve read them all...no shame)😭 @szhead31​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Roan x Fem!Reader 

Word count: 1735

Warnings: SMUT!

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

“What do you mean I’m kicked out?” I asked Clarke and Bellamy. 

“Y/N, you’ve been a danger to the camp.” Bellamy said with his arms crossed. 

“A danger? I’m a damn healer!” I shouted. 

“And half of the people in our infirmary are because of you!” He shouted back at me. 

“Enough!” Clarke shouted, stopping anything before it started. 

“Y/N, Bellamy’s right. You’ve been fighting everyone in camp and with the Grounders wanting to kill us, we need to think of the bigger picture.” She said and I scoffed. 

“Ya know what? I don’t even care anymore. Screw all of you and I hope the Grounders kick your ass!” I shouted and stormed out of the dropship. I went to my tent and grabbed my shit then left without another word. Those assholes can kiss my damn ass. 

*One Month Later*

I was out hunting in the snow. I don’t entirely remember how I got here, but I was alive so that’s all that matters. I had the perfect angle on the deer I was hunting when all of a sudden a scream scared it away. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I groaned. I decided that I should run and see who was screaming. Maybe someone from camp got lost and I could fix them up, it was the damn doctor in me… If I heal them maybe they’ll see I’m not as bad as everyone says I am! I pushed myself to run faster and found a man leaning against a tree with a serious wound in his stomach. I’m honestly surprised his guts weren’t falling out. I kneeled down by his side and quickly pulled out my supplies. 

“Who are you?” He asked with a groan. 

“I’m here to help, who are you? What happened?” I asked as I started to work on his stomach. 

“I am Roan, Prince of Azgeda.” He answered then hissed in pain. 

“Don’t move, I need to disinfect it before I stitch you up. Here, bite on this.” I said and pushed a cloth into his mouth. He bit down on it and continued my work. It took about a half hour to patch him up enough to get him somewhere safe. 

“Where did you learn to do that?” He asked as we were walking through the forest. 

“My Father was a doctor, he taught me everything I know.” I answered with a small smile. 

“Your Father taught you well.” He said, returning my smile. 

“Up ahead, there’s a small cabin I found, I’ve been staying there.” I said and pointed at the building ahead. He nodded and the two of us quickly but carefully made our way into the cabin. I laid him on the bed and checked his wound again. 

“If you’re a Prince, what are you doing out here alone? Shouldn’t you have guards with you?” I asked. 

“I was banished so my people could join with the Commander.” He said sadly. 

“Your parents banished you?” I asked shocked and he nodded sadly. 

“Why are you out here on your own?” He asked and I bit my lip. 

“Same reason you are. I was banished because my people thought I was more dangerous than the Grounders.” I answered and his eyes widened slightly. 

“Why?” He asked. 

“I was a healer to my people, there weren’t many, but the two people that basically put themselves in charge kicked me out because I kept fighting people. Those people talked a lot of shit about me and I was just making sure they knew not to mess with me, turns out that putting your own people in the infirmary while at ‘war’ isn’t a great idea.” I half laughed. 

“How long have you been out here?” He asked. 

“About a month, maybe a little more.” I shrugged. 

“You’re strong.” He smiled and his eyes slowly started to close. 

“Get some rest, I’ll check on you in the morning.” I said and walked off to make myself food. 

*Another Month Later* 

Roan had healed well. He was strong and wanted to get better. He was actually a very good patient and did everything I asked of him. The two of us got to know each other while he was healing and he was amazing. At first he was pretty reserved and hesitant to let me into his life, but eventually he opened up to me. He was sweet with a very strong sense of loyalty. When he was finally better I thought he would just leave, which broke my heart at the thought, but he stayed. He explained to me how he was a bounty hunter and asked me to join him on his adventures. I had agreed, but we always ended up coming back to the cabin we now claimed as ours. The two of us knew we had developed feelings for one another, but we never fully confessed. Sure we acted like a couple, but it was never solidified. That was until we got snowed in our cabin with no way of leaving. 

“I suppose it’s good that we got extra food yesterday when we were out.” I said and Roan smiled. 

“I suppose you’re right.” He said and joined me in the bed. Roan pulled me towards him and I rested my head on his chest. We sat in silence, revelling in the warmth that our bodies gave to each other. After a few minutes Roan pulled my face up to look at him and he did something unexpected. He held my chin with two of his fingers and gently kissed me. I was breathless when he broke away, his eyes shining as he admired me. 

“What was that for?” I whispered. 

“I just finally got the courage to confess how I feel.” He said and I smiled with a slight blush dusting my cheeks. 

“I feel the same way.” I said and kissed him again. The kiss started off as sweet and loving, but it quickly turned hotter. The two of us were feeling each other’s bodies and enjoying the feelings. When Roan dipped into my pants I pulled away. 

“Wait, I’ve… I’ve never done this before.” I said, blushing deeply and looked away. Roan grabbed my face and made me look at him. 

“Let me teach you. We’ll be nice and warm after.” He said with a small smirk. There was something about Roan that made me trust him with all of my heart. 

“Okay…” I whispered. Roan pulled my shirt off and then my pants were quick to follow. My arms immediately went to cover my chest. 

“What about you?” I asked. He smirked and rid himself of his clothing, naked. Roan gently pried my arms from my chest and smiled. 

“Beautiful.” He hummed and kissed me, making my cheeks turn pink. 

“No need to be shy, Y/N.” He promised. He gently pushed me to lay on the bed and his lips went to my chest. 

“Roan…” I breathed, lacing my fingers into his brown hair. He pulled my underwear from me and looked up at me for consent. I gave him a small nod and he moved to my entrance. The sensation was overwhelming as his cock entered my pussy for the very first time. Delightful flashes of tingles coursed through my body. It felt amazing, until he broke through the one thing that indicated I was indeed a virgin. I grunted at the sharp burst of pain in my pussy. He held still, deep within me. 

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He whispered in my ear. My breathing was fast and shallow as I felt my walls absorbing his shaft. The sharp pain dulled to an ache, but was slowly overcome by a heavenly feeling of fullness. The tingles from him pressing against my clit increasing as his body moved subtly with each of his deep breaths. 

“It’s okay… I’m fine.” I finally whispered. Roan’s hips pulled back slowly, his gaze still concentrated on my face, probably looking for any signs of pain. He stopped with the head of his cock placed just in the entrance on my pussy. He teased me for only a moment, making me moan and grip the sheets. 

“Please don’t tease.” I begged. 

“Sorry love.” He said and pushed back inside me. One of his hands found my clit and I arched my back as he played with it. My muscles eased, allowing the pain to dissipate. Roan’s thrusts began to build pressure in my stomach and stars in my eyes. The soft pleasure washed over me with ease. My breaths were coming out in shallow stutters as I tried to hold back my orgasm. I was throbbing around Roan and he could feel every second of my building pleasure. 

“Roan, fuck!” I choked out as I withered on the bed. 

“Harder, harder please!” I begged, squeezing my eyes shut. Roan leaned down, capturing my lips in a messy but loving kiss as he did what I wanted. The ache in my every muscle released all at once. A shudder ran through my body as my orgasm took over me. 

“You look so beautiful when you cum like that.” Roan praised, and it only made it better. Roan pulled my legs over his shoulders and hit a deeper spot inside me. 

“Oh my God!” I shrieked. My back arched off the bed as Roan slid into me with the deep, angled thrusts. My moans were loud, escaping my lips with every other thrust he made. His hips rolled against mine with his hand still trying to pull another orgasm from me. I gripped the sheets tighter as I jolted upward from his powerful force. 

“Oh fuck! Roan!” I screamed, pleasure bursting through my veins. I was cumming for a second time tonight.

“Oh Y/N!” He moaned as he came inside me. I whined when he pulled out of me. He gave a small chuckle and pulled me into him under the blanket. 

“Warmer?” He asked and I nodded. 

“That was amazing.” I sighed happily. 

“We can do that as often as you want.” He smiled and I captured his lips in a kiss. 

“I think I want to do that all the time.” I said and he laughed. 

“Whatever you want, my Princess.” He said and I smiled. This was what earth was all about. This was my new start.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches28​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @emo-godess-loves-you​ @now-imagine​ @bruisedfists-and-splitlips @vanessa-kom-skaikru​

[dreamlandcreations]

Day 28 - The only one

Darkling x Reader

Kinktober prompt - Day 28 - Teasing

All prompts are taken from @the-purity-pen​‘s Kinktober List!

Warnings: allusion to sex, teasing 

•

You are the only one who gets away with it. Teasing him in any form.

Lately, when only his close, trusted circle is around, it is restricted to name-calling. Old man, grandpa, relic, etc. Ever since he took over the throne your relationship has changed. 

He found you when he was hunting down Alina. You were injured and ready to fight your attackers with your fire but he intervened, cutting them down in a single motion. 

You never imagined staying with other Grisha, you were on the run your whole life, mostly living isolated, never seeking out your kind but you always felt like you were missing something.

The General visited you frequently, he was intrigued by you for a reason he couldn’t name. He made sure you had a room of your own (close to his), and that you had everything you needed. You slowly got to know each other and you started to miss him when he had to leave.

Aleksander felt a power in you that could equal his own and once he got his throne and you found out the truth about him you didn’t turn on him, that gave him hope. You brought light to his darkness, stopping him from many rush decisions like the ones he made with Alina.

He really started to treat you as his equal, despite your often childish behaviour your advice proved to be sound and mature, revealing to the others as well that you are more than you show.

As the months had gone by you had gotten so close to him you allowed yourself to be more relaxed around him and with that came the teasing.

He would give you annoyed or outright terrifying looks that would scare anyone else, but you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. The downside of you teasing him because of his age was that you unintentionally pushed him away, making him think you wouldn’t be able to truly accept what he is. He told himself he could wait, in a few years when you stopped aging, you would see it his way.

When he made peace with that, he began to return the teasing to make you realise this sooner. The most common was ‘when you will be my age’. He said it just now, when it was only the two of you in his war room but your reply surprised him.

“I’d like to think I’m already an old soul, otherwise I’m just a bitter bitch of a witch at this point.” You give him a strained smile before you turn away, examining his bookshelf without aim.

Aleksander steps beside you and guides your gaze back to him by holding your cheek in his hand. He sees that tried sadness he is so familiar with and he frowns at you, not understanding how he could have missed this.

“What makes you feel so... down?” He doesn’t really know what to call that emotion he sees on you, he never wanted to put it in words when he saw it in his reflection.

You nuzzle his hand with closed eyes and reach out to envelop it in your much smaller palm. When you look at him again you let him see you without any facade you put up to hide your feelings.

“I don't have to live for hundreds of years to become weary with life, or people. Especially people.” You step back and turn away from him, his intense gaze became too much. You go back to looking at his books when you find one that was typically read for children, it was a story about the Black Heretic. 

“Aren’t you a bit old for this?” You wave the book at him and try to lighten the mood but it only makes him frown more. 

“Does it really bother you that much?” He asks quietly, too afraid of the answer, he’s not sure he could handle the rejection from you.

It’s your turn to frown, your confused look is all the answer he gets and after studying you for a few seconds he concludes that you really can’t imagine what he is referring to.

“That I’ve been alive for so long?” He watches as your expression changes a little, the frown doesn’t leave though.

“I don’t care...” Before you can continue he steps closer to you and pulls you in a kiss that takes your breath away. He consumes you, you try to return his passion but you can’t really keep up with him so you pull away to breathe.

He bends down to be eye-level with you as he holds you face between his palms and looks for any doubt. You give him a reassuring smile and a quick peck and he takes that as permission to continue what he started. 

Aleksander grabs you by your thighs and lifts you up, making you laugh with surprise and delight as he carries you to his bedroom. You spend the night with him, exploring each other and talking about your future.

•

You have been spending all of your nights in his room since then and the teasing has developed to be something more intense. You crave each other and you can’t help but taunt him with a flash of your decolletage, a flirty touch or a yearning look.

It always ends the same way. He carries you to his bed and returns the teasing in a much more sensual manner, forcing you to beg him to stop with the too little or too much stimulation. 

When you don’t provoke him, you still end up in his bed but you don’t receive that seemingly endless ‘punishment’. He cares for you with tenderness and you do your best to return his attention. 

For the first time in centuries Aleksander could be himself again and he found happiness with you, which made him see the world a little brighter and that has made him a better king.

[bananonbinary]

Time for a Salty Meta Post about Martin!

people who’ve followed this blog for a bit know that spending six hours combing through text for some goddamn sources is my specialty, so i compiled every time jon ever talked about martin’s work in season 1. which for the record, he stopped complaining about all the way back in episode 26, where he was angry that martin of all people got hurt.

things jon gets mad at martin for:

not being able to find records that don’t exist

not being able to find someone based only on a first name

the Dog

not wearing trousers in his off-hours

being the one that got caught up in the jane prentiss thing

mag 004 and mag 012 both have jon taking potshots at martin over research that was proven accurate by outside sources

things jon has never once complained about:

martin not understanding the filing system and just putting stuff away at random

martin being clumsy, constantly ruining things, spilling tea everywhere everyday, etc

martin turning in incompetent, poorly-edited, or badly formatted reports

martin not understanding the terminology used, skills expected, etc., and generally being extremely new to the field

please for the love of god stop making martin the silly bumbling idiot who can’t do anything right just because he doesn’t have a formal education. there’s zero evidence for it in the text, and it’s really weird to act like a 4 year degree would outweigh the *10 years* of job experience he has, not just in academia, but in the institute itself by season one. my boy has worked there longer than ANY of the rest of the main cast. screw you guys.

tl;dr: martin is never once shown to be bad at his job, jon pretty much only ever gets mad at him for the really stupid first impression and also not finding stuff that no one else was able to find either. after martin got hurt, jon talks about his research basically the same way he talks about tim’s or sasha’s work.

fucking proof under the cut:

(i didnt include the s1 finale or martin’s statement bc that’s just...two entire episodes of them talking to each other, but there isn’t really any notable Martin Complaints in either of them imo)

I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I’m going to peel him.

[pre-launch trailer]

.

Well, technically three, but I don’t count Martin as he’s unlikely to contribute anything but delays.

[...] Alongside this Tim, Sasha and, yes, I suppose, Martin will be doing some supplementary investigation to see what details may be missing from what we have.

[MAG001 Anglerfish]

.

Martin couldn’t find any records of Ex Altiora as a title in existent catalogues of esoteric or similar literature, so I assigned Sasha to double-check. Still nothing.

[MAG004 Pageturner]

.

I had Martin conduct a follow-up interview with Mr. Woodward last week, but it was unenlightening. Apparently there have been no further bags at number 93 and in the intervening years he has largely discounted many of the stranger aspects of his experience. I wasn’t expecting much, as time generally makes people inclined to forget what they would rather not believe, but at least it got Martin out of the Institute for an afternoon, which is always a welcome relief.

[MAG005 Thrown Away]

.

Martin was unable to find the exact date the original house was built but the earliest records he could find list it as being bought by Walter Fielding in 1891.

[...]

We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

[MAG008 Burned Out]

.

According to Martin, who was here when they took this statement, it was at this point in writing that Mr. Herbert announced he needed some sleep before continuing. He was shown to the break room where he went to sleep on the couch. He did not awaken; unfortunately succumbing to the lung cancer right there. Martin says the staff had been aware of how serious Mr. Herbert’s condition was, and had advised him to seek medical aid prior to giving his statement, but were told rather bluntly by the old man that he would not wait another second to state his case. I can’t decide whether this lends more or less credibility to his tale.

[MAG010 Vampire Killer]

.

“Veepalach” might also be a mishearing of the Polish word “wypalać”, according to Martin, which means to cauterize or brand. Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he “speaks Latin,” then he might be talking nonsense again, but I’ve looked it up and it appears to check out.

[MAG012 First Aid]

.

I sent Martin to look into this ‘Angela’ character - not that I want him to get chopped up, of course, but someone had to. Apparently, he spent three days looking into every woman named Angela in Bexley over the age of 50. He could not find anyone that matches the admittedly vague description given here, though he informs me that he had some very pleasant chats about jigsaws. Useless ass.

[MAG014 Piecemeal]

.

Martin declined to help with this investigation as he’s “a bit claustrophobic”

[MAG015 Lost John’s Cave]

.

There simply aren’t enough details given in this statement to actually investigate, short of Martin confirming that Mr. Vittery did indeed live at the addresses he provided.

[MAG016 Arachnophobia]

.

Oh, he’s off sick this week. Stomach problems, I think.

Blessed relief if you ask me.

[...]

I asked Martin to try and hunt down Mr. Adekoya himself for a follow-up, but have been informed that he passed away in 2006. 

[MAG017 The Boneturner’s Tale]

.

MARTIN

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

ARCHIVIST

…

That is beside the point.

[MAG022 Colony]

.

Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at least have the decency to put some trousers on!

[MAG023 Schwartzwald]

.

Martin found one other thing while combing through police reports for the Hither Green area. About a month after this statement was given, on May 15th, 2015, police were called out to once again investigate the chapel.

[MAG025 Growing Dark]

.

I know, but it would have to have been Martin, wouldn’t it? I mean, anything goes wrong around here, it always seems to happen to him. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Why didn’t you report this?

[MAG026 A Distortion]

.

Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.”

[MAG027 A Sturdy Lock]

.

Tim and Martin had a bit more luck investigating Tom Haan, though only really enough to confirm that he seems to have completely vanished following his departure from Aver Meats on the 12th of July.

[MAG030 Killing Floor]

.

Martin’s research would seem to indicate the place employed a reasonable number of international staff they preferred to keep off the books

[...]

TIM

Ah well, that’s actually what he was asking, huh! Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it?

ARCHIVIST

No, he… Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk drawer, hold on.

[MAG036 Taken Ill]

[walkitoffsoldier]

Welcome to the Fight

Author's Note: This is a little long for a prologue tbh but I wanted to get most of the introductions out of the way. I'm not using any specific vampiric powers from anywhere else, I kinda just went based off how the werewolves are in Teen Wolf, and to me vampires are pretty similar to werewolves. This is just how I imagine they would have done them in Teen Wolf, but maybe not. Enjoy! DO NOT post my works anywhere else, translated or otherwise!

Word count: 3k - I got carried away lol

Warnings: a few cuss words, blood mention, mentions of smelling like death, again this is really just introductory stuff and sort of fluffy?

Characters: Dr. Alan Deaton, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey

series masterlist // teen wolf masterlist // main masterlist

To the outside world you were just a regular teenage girl whose father was a doctor and whose mother was a mortician. You lived in a large old Victorian style house on the lake on a large piece of property guarded by a tall metal fence. To anyone on the outside looking in you had a normal, perfect life.

However, your life was anything but normal or perfect seeing as you were the only vampire family in Beacon Hills. Your family has lived here for centuries, almost all of them were born and raised in this house. So, despite hell or high water you weren’t just going to abandon it. Your parent's jobs allowed them access to blood, so you didn’t have to prey on humans which allowed you to lay low.

Whenever you felt the need for a hunt, which was typically only once a month, you could easily go and hunt down an animal without raising suspicions. No one knew your secret, not even all the werewolves lurking around.

Yes, you knew about them. Vampires and Werewolves are very similar when it comes to their powers and abilities. They also aren’t naturally enemies as most have been taught, sure we’ve had our wars, but we know an ally when we see one. The world of supernatural creatures can be a brutal one and it’s certainly much better to have friends than enemies. Though you never know how a werewolf might act so it’s just better to keep ourselves secret.

You knew of all the creatures that lurked around your school, you kept a list of their names and what they were in an old notebook at home. It was another way of keeping you and your family safe and it reminded you of who to steer clear of. Sure, you hid your scent from them but if you got close, became friends, it would be harder to keep your secret.

There was only one person in your small town who knew your secret and that was Doctor Deaton, even vampires need an Emissary. Deaton would come to your family every so often when there was a new threat, your family having more old books than anyone he’d ever seen.

Your family had a large library, books on all sorts of things including a Beastiary of your own except it was more of a collection, each book being about a different supernatural creature. These books were how you knew what other creatures were lurking around your town, you could tell by their scent most of the time. Every supernatural creature, like humans, have their own unique scent. For instance, werewolves smell very woodsy with a hint of “wet dog” smell though it isn’t too overpowering, the woodsy smell and their personal scent covers most of it.

Deaton would come over every so often to talk with your parents, help them with something or ask for help in return. Most of the time he came over it was to borrow or return books. When he came over you would overhear him talking with your parents about whatever new threat him and the McCall pack were facing.

You wanted to step up and help multiple times, but your parents did what they could already with their jobs. Though you would be lying if you said you hadn’t longed to go with him to wherever he was going to meet with the McCall pack, but you knew better. Keeping your family’s secret was important and you couldn’t risk jeopardizing that. Deaton knew though. He knew you longed to have friends who were more like you, how you longed to help in some way as you watched your town crumble down around you.

That was why being the smart, and slightly devious man he was that he devised a plan. You were on your stomach on your bed, reading through this week's History homework when your phone rang. Your parents both had late shifts today, so you figured it was just one of them calling to check in on you but when you picked up the phone you saw it was Deaton.

“Hello?”

“Hello Y/N, I hate to trouble you this late but is there any way you could fetch a few books from your family’s library and bring them to my office?”

“No trouble at all, what books do you need?”

You wrote the names of the books he needed on a blue post-It note before saying your goodbyes to one another. You got off your bed, changing into a pair of jeans and a plain t-shirt, grabbing your leather jacket off the back of your desk chair as you looked around for your combat boots. You found them and quickly slipped them on before grabbing an empty bag from your closet.

You slipped your keys and phone inside the front pocket, whistling as you walked down to the library with the post-It note in your hand. You grabbed the books Deaton had asked for, stuffing them into the empty bag on your shoulder. You crumbled the post-It up and threw it in the trash can by the door as you made your way down the stairs and out the door, locking it behind you.

You were grateful you had grabbed your jacket because only now had you realized it was pouring down rain. You slid the bag off your shoulder so you could slide your jacket on and put the hood up, grabbing the bag before making your way to your car. You hopped into your black Jeep and set the bag in the passenger seat before you buckled your seatbelt and turned on the radio.

The drive to the animal clinic wasn’t one you made often but you knew where it was. The combination of the rain and the music playing from the radio put you into a trance as you drove towards the clinic. You didn’t even realize you had made it there until you were pulling into the parking space next to an older looking blue Jeep. A Jeep you recognized. Oh no. No no no.

You leaned your head against the steering wheel of your Jeep, letting out a long sigh. Deaton hadn’t done this on purpose, had he? You sighed again as you took your keys out of the ignition and grabbed the bag from your passenger seat, slinging it over your shoulder before stepping out of your car and into the rain.

The rain didn’t bother you much as you walked towards the back entrance of the clinic, the sound of water splashing under your boots. You pulled the handle of the door and walked in, immediately you knew there were 3 other people besides Deaton there, one human and two wolves. Stiles, Scott and Isaac.

You let out a quiet sigh as you rounded the corner and entered the room where they were standing, all of their eyes turning to look at you. You smiled at all of them, pulling your hood down as you walked towards Deaton in the back of the room. You set your bag down onto the table and began taking all of the books out, stacking them in front of him.

“Thank you, Y/N.,” He smiled politely at you as he took the books and sat them on the counter behind him. You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. If he needed the books so badly, why was he putting them away? “Scott, Stiles, Isaac, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Scott, Stiles, and Isaac. Have you seen each other around school?” Deaton asked as he turned around to a cabinet and grabbed a book out. A book you recognized.

It was while he did this that you took time to look at each boy's face. Scott looked at you with a soft smile. Isaac had his arms crossed like you, leaning against the table behind him. Stiles had one hand on the table in front of him as he looked at you with an eyebrow raised and a curious expression on his face. “Yeah, I’ve seen her around a few times.” Isaac said simply, not taking his eyes off of you. It was his Beta instincts to protect his Alpha and his pack so of course he was on guard.

“Of course, she’s in our History class and she’s in French with Lydia and Allision.” Scott smiled at you, and you smiled back at him. You hadn’t realized the Alpha had paid that much attention to you. “I see them around from time to time.” You answered Deaton as he turned back around with the book in his hands. “Okay so we all clearly know each other but that doesn’t explain why she’s here?” Stiles asked, not rudely just curiously.

He wasn’t sure why Deaton had just randomly invited this girl from their high school over when they were supposed to be having a meeting about the new supernatural threat in town. “And how did she get all of those old books?” Stiles asked, looking at you with a look as if he was trying to get a read on you. It made you quirk an eyebrow and tilt your head slightly at him, but his gaze didn’t falter.

“I’ll explain everything, if that’s alright with her?” Deaton asked as he sat the book down, looking across the table at you. “I’m not the one you need to be asking.” You answered him as you hopped onto the counter behind you to sit, swinging your legs back and forth. “I’ve already discussed this with your parents, and they are okay with it. It’s up to you now.” Deaton told you with a small smile on his face.

The three boys watched the two of you closely, all of them now sporting curious looks as they listened to you and Deaton talk. Suddenly all those hushed conversations your parents had been having with Deaton made since and you smiled a bit. “Well then go ahead.” You gestured outwards with your hand, granting him the permission to continue.

Deaton smiled back at you before opening the book on the table. “By now you all have come into contact with many supernatural creatures but there has been one hiding under your noses this entire time. A family out by the lake who’ve lived here even before humans did. The Sharpe family. A family of vampires.” Suddenly three pairs of eyes were on you again. “I KNEW VAMPIRES WERE REAL. I TOLD YOU!” Stiles shouted out, pointing a finger at Scott and Isaac who just stared at you in shock as you waved at them.

“So, you’re a-” Isaac started as he looked at you. “Vampire.” Scott finished and the smile was back on his face which you returned. Deaton then went on to explain why and how your family stayed in hiding for so long. He explained how Vampires and Werewolves were extremely similar, even Vampires are affected by the Full Moon.

It’s the only time you have the need to hunt. While Deaton was telling them what they needed to know about you and your kind you relaxed and allowed yourself to expose your scent, something you usually didn’t do unless you were at home. You knew the moment it hit Scott and Isaac’s senses because they immediately turned back towards you.

Deaton smiled at you again as he knew what you had done, and you sent him a grin. “So that’s what a vampire smells like?” Isaac asked as he inhaled deeply and began walking closer to you. “What’s it smell like, Isaac?” Deaton asked as he watched Isaac step closer to you and so did you, keeping your eyes on the tall blonde as he made his way closer.

“Pine... Vanilla... And-” He scrunched his nose up a bit as he finally stood a few inches away from you. “Death.” He turned towards Deaton and Scott as if to make sure that was right and they both nodded, as did you. Stiles made a weird face and shook his head. “I’m sorry did you say death?” All of you just nodded at him. “And that’s pleasant?” He asked in disbelief, Isaac and Scott shrugging their shoulders in response.

“It’s not unpleasant.” Isaac said as he turned towards you again and smiled. With how close he was to you it made a slight heat rise to your cheeks making you turn your head away from him. “Lydia kind of smells like death too.” Scott stated and Stiles face just scrunched up more as he leaned against the table to process what he had just been told.

Isaac moved a few steps to the side of you, but he didn’t go back to where he was before as Deaton continued to tell them about vampires and your family’s history in Beacon Hills. When Deaton was done with everything, he felt he needed to tell them Stiles looked over at you. “Could you show us?” He said quickly. “Wait shit sorry that’s probably rude um... You don’t have to, but could you show us?”

You laughed a bit at the spastic boy in front of you and hopped off of the table you had been sat on. “Sure.” You smiled at him as you slipped your jacket off and laid it where you had just been sitting. You closed your eyes and opened them back up to reveal the bright yellow of a young Vampire. They would turn red once you turned 21, something Deaton had explained to the boys so seeing your yellow eyes only confirmed that you were young like the 3 of them.

You then opened your mouth to reveal your fangs as your ears grew into a point. “That’s really all that I can show you, though everything else is pretty similar to werewolves. We also have the increased strength, speed and healing and our senses are extremely heightened, like yours.” You said, gesturing towards Scott and Isaac.

“And.. Uh.. What about sunlight? Cause I’ve definitely seen you outside of school and you weren’t spontaneously catching on fire.” Stiles asked you, still looking at you curiously. You couldn’t help but laugh a little bit at his question even if it was a valid one. “Sunlight does affect us but...” You said as you lifted your left hand and gestured to the ring on your finger. “My family and I have these. Their called daylight rings, they protect vampires from the sun.” You told him, putting your hand back down.

Stiles went to speak again but you stopped him, already guessing what his next questions would be. “Garlic is a myth. Holy water burns. Crucifixes do nothing. Stake through the heart or fire is the only way to kill us. No, I do not sleep in a coffin. And no, I don’t feed on humans. Does that answer all your next questions?” You asked Stiles with a curious eyebrow raised.

He looked at you shocked for a minute before he nodded his head quickly. “Uh yes, yeah I think that about covers it.” He said as he leaned back against the table once more. “So, if you don’t feed on humans how do you get blood?” Isaac asked curiously from beside you.

“My dad is a doctor, and my mom is a mortician so lots of blood bags and animal blood.” You answered him, shrugging your shoulders a bit. Feeding on humans was what most vampires did but you and your family weren’t like most vampires. You preferred to live peacefully amongst humans and other supernatural creatures, it had been that way for centuries.

“Well, Y/N, it’s really great to officially meet you.” Scott grinned at you. “It’s great to meet you all too. I have to admit I’ve wanted to talk to you guys and help out for a long time.” You told them with a smile. “I understand why you couldn’t, your family’s secret is important. We’d love to have you help us.” Scott said, the sweet smile not leaving his face. And for the first time since you had entered the room Stiles smiled at you too.

“Welcome to the fight, Y/N.” He said to you, giving you a little salute. “Let’s get started then, shall we?” Deaton smiled at the four of you, grabbing the books you had brought to him. You spent the next few hours at the clinic skimming through the old books and discussing the threat they were currently facing.

It was around midnight when the five of you exited the building. It had stopped raining now, leaving behind a slight chill still in the air and puddles on the ground. You would always love the smell that came after it had rained. After saying your goodbyes to them, you started walking towards your car, the bag you had brought now much lighter as you grabbed your keys from it. Deaton had asked to keep the books so he could read through them completely.

“Hey Y/N.” Scott said, walking over to you. “Yeah?” You asked, turning around to face the alpha. “We’re having a pack meeting tomorrow at Stiles after school if you wanna come?” He asked you with a smile. Stiles and Isaac were stood behind him, leaning against Stiles’ Jeep as they waited for you answer. “I’d love to.” You smiled back at him. “Great, see you tomorrow.” Scott grinned at you before he walked over to the passenger side of Stiles Jeep.

“Bye guys, be safe.” You told them all with a smile and a wave before getting into your car. You drove back home that night with the biggest grin on your face. You were finally getting to be friends with people who were more like you and that was something you had wanted more than anything. You were excited for tomorrow and to see where this new adventure would take you.

[the-broken-truth]

Can I request i male reader who treats all of the lords and mother mranda like his own kids cause of his animal instincts? 🙍‍♂️🐾

(You can choose the sifter)

Broken (Chuckles): Hello, @imanewboi99 - back again to spoil me with delicious scenarios, are you? (Reads ask) A Shifter that treats The Lords & Mother Miranda like his children? Hm...I can imagine the Lords but the Lords see Mother Miranda as their mother...I'll make him Miranda's Lover - Hopefully that is good for you, my friend. As for Shifter Form... I'll make him a Caracal Cat; I like their ears and they have stubby little tails, plus cats are one of the animals I think will take in another animal's infant as their own. Now, let the words weave together!

Note: The Reader will be known as [Father].

🦇 [Alcina Dimitrescu] 🦇

When Alcina met [Father] during the Lord Meeting, she didn't like him for the simple fact he was a man but she was curious of the large feline ears he had in replacement for his human ears & they weren't just for show - he made that clear when Karl called Alcina 'Lady Super-Sized Bitch' during a Lord Meeting, causing the tall buff man to walk over to the 4th Lord and glare down at him.

His Response: "You will not refer to another Lord, your sister, and my daughter as a 'bitch' in my presence or the presence of your mother and siblings again, Karl Heisenberg or I show you the power I hold in a way you will not be fond of. Now, apologize to Alcina this minute."

When Karl didn't move fast enough, [Father] grabbed the German by his trench coat and held him high (Keep in mind that [Father] is around the same height as Alcina) with a glare on his face and snarl in his voice, "I SAID 'APOLOGIZE', YOU UNGRATEFUL BOY!'; Karl wheezed out an apology before the man placed in back on the pew, "And never...disrespect anyone of my children again, I wouldn't let any of them do it to you, Son." then he went to sit.

As time went on, [Father] would come to Castle Dimitrescu and repair any kind of structural damaging or ask Alcina if she needed anything to be delivered to the castle.

Alcina would say, "Father, you don't need to worry yourself with these petty issues."

But he would say, "As your father, I don't want my eldest daughter and granddaughters to be without. Please, let me be a good father and grandfather to you and my granddaughters, Alcina."

Alcina was touched and handed him a list of things she needed to be taken care of that no one else would do or couldn't do. Everything was done within a few hours.

When it comes to the daughters, [Father] loves them as a man would love his biological grandchildren.

He would come to the castle with gifts: A new book collection for Bela, Gadgets of Torment for Cassandra, or a new weapon for Daniela.

If the daughters were bored and had nothing to do, [Father] would turn into his Feline Form and let the daughters hunt him, but he was rather fast & which made the daughters have fun with the chase.

[Father] has a manor that is around the same size as Heisenberg's Factory and the daughters love to visit because the large man spoils them too much.

They would go every single weekend but one day, Alcina told them that they didn't need to go everything single weekend and to give [Father] some space. The daughters didn't like that and called their grandfather to complain and waited around the corner when Alcina received a call from [Father].

"Father, all I said was they don't need to be over there all of the time," Alcina explained.

"Alcina, don't say anything to me; you are lucky that I am 5 whiskey glasses in, otherwise I would come to get them myself. Call the carriage and bring me my granddaughters." He hung up after that.

Not wanting to disappoint her Father Figure, she called the carriage and delivered the daughters and she was given a case of fine wines to relax with while they were with him.

She may hate men - but [Father] was the only man-thing she would admit to caring about. Mother Miranda picked well.

🎎 [Donna Beneviento + Angie] 🎎

[Father] knew that Donna was timid & Angie was her way of communication - he didn't want to frighten her thus began their relationship with phone calls.

For the most time, he spoke to Angie and each conversation would with [Father] asking if Donna or Angie needed anything; yes, he considered Angie another person and not just a doll.

On the occasion that they did need something, he would go purchase what they needed and let it on the porch of Beneviento Manor, knocked on the door, and stepped away; he knew that Donna was scared of his height.

One day, he was delivering some Doll Parts Donna asked for, he did his normal routine and was about to leave when Angie called out and asked if he wanted to come in for tea. He accepted.

He shrunk himself to be a more acceptable height for Donna and the three of them had tea and conversation.

Donna became more adjusted to his presence and would call him herself - without Angie - and ask if they would have tea, make dolls together, or work in the garden together.

One day, he came with an eyepatch with the Crest of House Beneviento stitched into it as a way to cover the scar but not her whole face.

At the next meeting, she wore it.

Salvatore complimented her on it and she said 'Father made it for me.'

He smiled.

🐟 [Salvatore Moreau] 🐟

Salvatore was curious about [Father] but was too nervous to talk to him - thinking he was going to be mean or make fun of him his appearance. Imagine his surprise when [Father] wanted up to him and smiled before saying, 'Hello, Salvatore. It's nice to meet you, son.".

Salvatore looked at him with wide eyes - he thought of Salvatore as a son? He didn't make fun of him?

Salvatore and [Father] would talk whenever they saw each other at the Lord Meetings but one day, [Father] asked to spend a day with his son because he never got to learn about him.

Salvatore was nervous but agreed.

When [Father] arrived at Salvatore's Territory, he was displeased that his son was living in such poor conditions and he vowed to do something about it and his son's vomiting.

The two of them spent hours watching movies together and eating cheese & fish while Salvatore told [Father] everything about him.

One day, Salvatore was surprised to see his father building a new house on steady ground and told Salvatore that it was his new home because he was not gonna let his Lord and Son live in poor conditions like that. Salvatore was also informed that there was a new collection of movies for the two of them to enjoy.

They have movie nights every Wednesday and Sunday.

As for Salvatore's vomiting, [Father] was able to make an elixir that prevents vomiting but Sal has to drink it every month. It's bitter but he will do it regardless.

🛠 [Karl Heisenberg] 🛠

[Father] knew that Karl was still cross with him for embarrassing him before Mother Miranda and the Other Lords & no real father would want his son to be angry with him at every family get-together.

[Father] went to Karl's Factory with an apology but when he went inside, he saw his son running from a strange contraption with a large drill arm.

His Paternal Instincts kicked in and he charged at the creature, crushing its head in his hand before turning to his son to make sure he was alright.

Karl was angry to see him at first but he did thank him for saving his life before that thing turned him into a pin-cushion. He then asked [Father] what he was doing in his factory and the taller man said he didn't want any bad blood between the two of them and offered his services to his son.

Karl wasn't interested and first but he then realized that he could use [Father] to get inside information on Miranda so he agreed.

The two of them worked on projects, blueprints, or repairs for hours, enjoying each other conversation and presence.

[Father] asked the 4th Lord to be kinder to the other lords - he hated seeing his family argue and be bitter with each other.

Karl - while he never saw the others as his family - agreed to this for the sake of the only one he really respected and cared for.

Karl was still planning on making Miranda suffer for what she had done to him and the others...but...Did [Father] really deserve it?

This man - he had a heart of gold - but it was clear he suffered as well and this 'family' was the only thing that kept him together, kept him happy - Karl didn't want him to be unhappy.

What would destroying Miranda and this 'family' do to [Father]? Karl wondered but at the same time, he didn't want to know. This man was a father to him...what was he supposed to do?

🧪 [Mother Miranda + The Lords As A Whole] 🧪

Miranda would wake up to the smell of [Father]'s cooking and coffee every morning - he refused to let her start the daily research without a good meal and coffee, and she didn't object to this - the man made some delicious food.

One day - Miranda went to the meeting grounds and found the man cleaning, fixing pillars, and making individual thrones for the Lords, Mother Miranda, and himself. Reason: "My wife and children are not sitting on old ass furniture and possibly getting sick."

The Lords love their thrones - he even made one for Angie.

When an argument - mostly between Alcina and Karl - broke out, [Father] would roar for them to shut up and respect the Mother of All and each other.

"You are my children - not savages - and you will act like it or I shall show you how savages were treated where I came from!"

It would take Miranda's gentle hand to calm him when the children acted out of line.

When it came to the Cadou Experiments - [Father] would aid Miranda or his children without a second thought. Whatever they needed, he would get for them.

[Father] would try to have a family dinner with everyone at his manor once a week, just so the family could all be together.

As much as Miranda didn't want to admit it - she loved the dinners; it really felt as if she had a real family.

Maybe...when Eva was returned to her...they could be a family.

[End]