#pawn to pen

[samejimachich]

SUB x SUB

Who is this left side guy?

yes, he is my Dragon's Dogma2 main pawn "DJ SUB (Stella)"

See?😏

[the-clay-quarters]

woe, itty bitty vincent upon ye (the second is supposedly the actual size i drew it lol)

[lafaiette]

Me after finishing Dragon's Dogma 2 with the Main Pawn's affinity to the max

[bociferous]

Concept fast parking lot sketch vs finished version has me dead

[fma03envy]

Thinking about Junko's execution again and the concept of AI Junko as a "came back wrong and knows it" type character makes me insane. Like imagine existing to continue the life's work of someone who had so gleefully killed herself

You're Junko and you're here because Junko didn't want to keep going but you're supposed to want to keep going because that's what Junko would have wanted and Junko is you. Urggggg

[breitzbachbea]

Had an idea for a Jerusalem AU snippet about the beginning of Charlie's and Dilan's unlikely friendship. So enjoy their - supposed - first meeting while Charlie stays behind as a pawn in Jerusalem, so that the rest of the Pilgrims can explore the area around the city in peace.

Suddenly, the door opened and Charlie lifted his head.

He winced the next second when he was faced with a tall woman; her face was wrapped into veils, as was the custom for the place.

He didn’t know that the Na’ib was married, but of course he’d be. The woman seemed to have gotten lost on her way to or from the Harem.

Instead of that, all he got out was a “Greetings?” while she cocked her head.

She said something in the native language – Arab it must have been, though Charlie understood not one sound. As no time passed but she also made no effort to move, he realized it might have been a question. “I’m sorry, I don’t … I don’t … Translator?” he asked. When she frowned, he pointed to his mouth and then his ears while he repeated the word. “Translator ...” He kept eye contact, the brown eyes the only point in her face he could focus anyways. “Dragoman?” A spark of recognition seemed to light up. “Frank! Dragoman … “ he pointed to his mouth again. “Frank.”

She nodded. “Frank,” she said as if she spoke to a little child. Then the door closed and he was left alone again.

Not for long however, as she returned with another man, clad in the customary wear of a Christian or Jew of the place, but with features that very well would have made a French person of him.

And Charlie was in luck, since he did speak French, albeit it broken, and introduced himself as Nicolo. He knew he would have had no luck looking for someone who knew Irish or the Norse language in this place. Harry only ever had found a familiar tongue when he met another Latin speaker.

“She’s asking who you are,” Nicolo said.

“Oh! Well, I’d honestly love to know what I am, here, and all – “

“She means your name.”

“Oh. Right. Charles of the Higgins Clan, from the Liberties.” When even Nicolo gave him a blank stare, he sighed. “Tell her that. And that I am a knight.”

So he did. She seemed pleased with the answer, now interested in giddy. In fact, she squatted down to look at him on his eye level. Something about those eyes seemed familiar …

“She wants to know about the place you're from and your family,” Nicolas said.

“Well, the Liberties are outside of Dublin, which is in Ireland, which is a rich island next to England, Wales and Scotland,” Charlie said. “My father’s name is Connor. We come from Irish and Norse people … Vikings? Ask her about Vikings, does she know what a Viking is?”

Apparently she did, because she said something and then looked with big eyes at Charlie.

“She said that Vikings haven’t come here in a long time. And that … well, she said that the Na’ib did his job right.”

The next moment, the man in question made himself heard and she got up, before she shouted back to him. There was another voice, calmer and more quiet than either the woman or the Na’ib.

She gestured to Nicolo to come with him, so Charlie was alone once the door closed. There were however, windows in the room, and he let his curiosity get the better of him. At least it’d be a story to tell to the others.

And what a story! The woman was standing with her back to the room, but she evidently had taken her veil off while she talked with the Na’ib, just another indicator that she was his wife. Something about the silhouette seemed oddly familiar however …

She then turned to the side as she laughed about something.

Charlie’s eyes went wide and he knocked his nose against the grate in front of the window.

An action he immediately regretted when his eyes met the Na’ib’s. He wondered whether or not he should have ducked when he said something. She – or he? – in turn said something to him. The cheery expression on their face hadn’t darkened a single shade. At least their words seemed to change the Na’ib’s expression from grumpy to merely uninterested.

He used the chance to duck. The two talked for a while longer, sometimes a third voice cut through from further away. Then Charlie heard receding steps.

He wasn’t quite sure what to do with the revelation. His head was too confused to think clearly about what he witnessed.

So lost in thought was he that it came as a surprise to him when the door opened again.

In the doorframe, they stood. The Na’ibs right hand. That’s why the brown eyes had been so familiar. Nothing of the former appearance remained, however – They were clad entirely in the familiar uniform of a Mameluck official.

No veil covered the wide grin.

Half behind her stood Nicolo, who faithfully translated again.

“She tells you to get up. She’s in charge of you now,” Nicolo said.

Charlie forgot to get onto his feet. “She?”

Nicolo made no attempt to translate his surprise until she nudged him. She laughed and then responded.

“Well, only a man can do the job. So she’s a man in the military and a woman in the house.” Nicolo grimaced, obviously very unhappy with what he had just relayed. “She also said that no one in the city would believe you if you told of what you saw … So you might as well know.”

Another thousand thoughts ran through his head. She asked Nicolo something, who responded with “Up”.

She held her hand out to Charlie. “Up!” Finally he got onto his feet. She said something to him.

“We’ll show you the stables and the soldiers training – that should be of interest to a knight like you.”

“Sweaty men on horses? Sure is,” Charlie responded. He put all the confusing thoughts at the back of his mind for now as he followed her and Nicolo. One question had to be asked though: “What is your name?”

She turned around to him after Nicolo had translated. “Dilan,” she said. It was translated with the string of words that followed:

“Dilan, son of Kerîm, right hand of the Na’ib Sadık, son of Alaattin. A military leader.” She beamed with pride.

The mess in his head wouldn’t stay quiet. It was as if he had discovered both an enigma that only ancient philosophers and fairies could come up with and at the same time, the solution to a problem that had plagued him all throughout his life.

“Very well, Sir. Lady. I – “ Charlie looked to Nicolo for help, but received no reaction at all. “Dilan. Very well, Dilan. Thank you for your hospitality.”

She smiled as an answer and then gestured him to follow her again.

[quinttyz]

Travels with the Arisen 2: THE FIELD TRIP NOBODY ASKED FOR

whenever they go out for long trips, ghost is the one who’s so snarky and complaining about everything

He’s literally “FINE I WILL DO IT but i will still be a bitch the entire time”

Vernon is just happy to be there :3 boy is just swinging his sword around and just saluting whenever they defeat any enemy

Joshua is….god what is this mans….I remember him yelling something along the lines of, “you taKE CARE OF HIM I’LL GRAB THE LOOT” meanwhile my Arisen who’s about to die: 👁👄👁👍

[chaotic-grin]

tag dump

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

kiss kiss fall in love | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader

your hormones have peeked at your five month mark. your belly started to properly show now and your tastebuds were only slightly concerning. at least the morning sickness was gone, top two worst things about pregnancy, second having to give birth.

you lounged on the couch as you watched your daughter and husband playing on the floor, bits of their hair covered their faces in a curtain. spencer was already teaching her the ways of chess, she asked him many questions.

“how come the queen isn’t wearing a gold crown? she’s special.” holding a black chess piece in her small palm. you chuckled at the childish question.

“well she is wearing a crown, but if you want we can paint it gold. she is the most important piece of the game.” spencer agreed with annabeth, ruffling her locks. he stood from the ground, made a quick stop to kiss your cheek and went into the hallway to comeback with the craft supplies box. he pulled out the paint pens, “why don’t you decorate all of them how you want? it’ll be our special set.”

annabeth went quick to work on coloring over the pieces, some covered in swirled and dots while others had hearts or stars. she even drew a couple of happy expressions, then one sad one, “because he’s just a pawn.” you and spencer chuckled at her reasoning.

you rubbed your palm along your swollen stomach, old stretch marks reappearing at the bottom. your cotton shorts and simple tank feeling suffocating even with minimal fabric. “oh!” a tiny yelp from your lips, eyes widening and mouth pursing.

spencer snapped his head your way, “what’s wrong?” hurrying over to you. annabeth stopped her work to watch both of you with her big eyes. you let a smile ease onto your face, “the baby kicked.”

annabeth scrambled over, “can i feel?” tucking her hands into her chest for restraint. “of course, sweets. here,” holding a palm out for her tiny hand to sit and you guided it over to where the kick happened.

“try speaking to them. they like hearing our voices,” whispering to your daughter when the baby didn’t kick right away. little annabeth leaned in close, her lips grazing your ticklish skin, “i can’t wait to meet you. i’m gonna be the best big sister to you.”

it took a moment but then another kick appeared, “kick! i felt a kick!” she squealed, giving a little jump to her body. she looked to spencer, “daddy! daddy feel the baby!” reaching for his hand like you did earlier.

spencer cooed and gasped with annabeth when another kick appeared. “hi little one,” spencer whispered close, “i’m your daddy and your big sister is next to me. we can’t wait to meet you.” another strong kick followed.

“okay, how about we give mommy a rest. cause my organs aren’t feeling happy about being a soccer ball.” ruffling at your daughter hair. annabeth pressed a kiss goodbye to the growing baby and went back to her art project.

spencer joined you on the couch, arm thrown behind your head and resting on your shoulders while you leaned into him. “how are you feeling? need anything?” his rich voice caressing your ear and making your heart race.

you turned to him with a bright smile, “i do actually. i need a thousand kisses from you. haven’t been given my usually attention.” pouting exaggerated.

spencer looked surprised, “a thousand? man i must be really behind.” clicking his teeth. you nodded, “you have mister. better get started.” puckering up with your eyes closed.

spencer’s light giggles filled your soul and then his lips on yours caused a craving. “more,” a quiet demand.

a fast peck, “oh this is gonna take awhile.”

a lingering drawl, “we’re getting somewhere.”

another fast kiss, but you could tell spencer didn’t move far away. his breath tingled your wet lips, “i’m gonna have to call hotch to babysit if you want all those kisses.” a fifth kiss before his weight left the couch and his footsteps disappeared. you thought it was a little funny he was gonna call his boss on an off day so your child and his could have that playdate that’s been in the works.

“bethie,” calling for your daughter with outstretched arms. she worked her way beside you on the couch an wrapped her arms in a side hug, here genetic reid puppy eyes glaring upon you. “would you be okay to have a playdate with jack today?” smoothing a hand over the crown of her head.

“really?” eyes wide with excitement. you nodded, “you have to be a good girl for mr and mrs. hotchner. that’s daddy’s boss and our friend, say please and thank you. and also make sure you’re cleaning up after yourself.”

spencer walked back into the living room, “the hotchners are on their way. and they happily agreed to bethie joining them on their trip to the aquarium.” scooping annabeth up, both of them yelling “aquarium! aquarium!”

“i wanna see the stingrays!” annabeth declared to jack when him and hotch appeared at your door fifteen minutes later. the three of you watched the two chat while you packed her little backpack of supplies, you handed it off to hotch with a grateful smile.

“thank you for accepting on short notice. i just really want to be alone with my husband, im deprived of attention. i’m wilting like a flower.” sighing and aching as you talked to hotch.

the older man smiled and lightly chuckled, you’re one of the few to crack that stone facade spencer says. “jack’s been missing her anyway, he was trying for a sleepover as well tonight.” you raised your brows, “we’ll see how the afternoon goes.”

once you were completely alone, you dragged spencer behind you into your shared bedroom. “more kisses please,” sitting at the foot of the bed.

spencer moved to stand in the space between your spread legs, his hands cupping at your cheeks like you were fine china. your wandering fingers slid under his plain t-shirt, sitting in his waistband and rubbing against his slim stomach. “don’t keep me waiting, pretty boy. i will start getting angry.”

spencer bent in and let his plush lips mesh with yours, his nose tickling at your cheek when he changed angles to broaden the intimate act. a hum sounded from your throat as you opened your mouth wider and let your tongue wonder, desperately needing a french kiss. a moan echoed in the room as spencer moved from your lips to your jaw, further down onto your neck.

“this- this is nice,” letting a hand sink into the ends of his hair. your nails scratching at his scalp as your eyes fluttered and pulse spiked.

“i love you so much,” lips causing a shiver to erupt. you sighed, “i- i love you too. so lucky for- for marrying you.” your hands starting to mess with spencer’s belt and zipper.

“gonna show you how loved you are.”

[samejimachich]

Doodle

[upsidedownwithsteve]

CH10. Cheque, Please! | The Menu [2.2K] Eddie Munson x shy fem!reader: a line cook au.

ONE YEAR LATER

The diner was packed. 

Tables were full, the large room a buzz of chatter and music, the speakers playing an old sixties bop. It was a familiar sight, one that happened more often than not since Jim sold the diner. The new owner ripped the place apart, down to its old bones before he put his life savings into it. 

New floors, new tables and chairs, artwork on the walls that were signed by Argyle, a photo of the whole staff taken and framed by Jonathan, Jim Hopper at the forefront, a wide smile on his face on the last day before his retirement. The bulbs in the neon sign outside had been replaced so it no longer flickered, the green and blue glow of it now announcing the diner’s new name, proud and bright for everyone to see. 

Eddie’s Slice Of Chicago. 

“Door! Behind!” You yelled out as you entered the kitchen empty plates piled high in your arms and Jonathan took them from you with practised ease. 

Steve was on the grill, still hesitant and not as fast as Argyle, but he was flipping burgers quicker than he had last week. His chef whites were brand new, his name badge shiny and his front of house position taken over by Nancy. Everyone was in new uniforms, freshly pressed and a sage green, aprons still without stains and a pocketful of pens that didn’t run out of ink too quickly. Robin was taking orders, laughing with a family from out of town, letting their toddler grab at her finger as she promised them to return soon with their pizzas and shakes. Dustin was helping Max run a large order to a table of backpackers, a border collie under the table at their feet, getting its ears scratched by the new start, Mike. 

There was a sign on the staff notice board, up beside the employee of the month, a piece of ripped paper with the words “SIXTY FOUR DAYS SINCE THE LAST FREEZER BREAKDOWN.” The rest of the space was filled with staff photos, polaroids and prints of the group at a fourth of July picnic, a barbecue at Jim’s in the summer, huddled around the kitchens countertops in the winter, drinking from mugs filled with Argyle’s homemade horchata, the frame that held Billy’s scrawled termination letter, an old napkin that held a small conversation in pen. 

It felt more like home than ever. Even when Eddie wasn’t there. 

Everyone answered to you in his absence, unofficially in charge when the boss wasn’t here. It had taken some getting used to, hell, you’d even tried to pawn off the responsibility to Nancy, or Steve, anyone who’d been at the grill longer than you had. But Nancy was part time, back at college during the week, taking Robin on dates in the evenings and Steve was too busy being trained as a new prep chef to worry about invoices and deliveries. 

So you stepped into the role cautiously, softening to the idea when Eddie kissed you something fierce and told you that there wasn’t anyone else he trusted to do the job. His acceptance letter had come the month after taking over the diner. A thick, white envelope that lay heavy on your doormat because he’d finally moved in, sharing your small apartment with you like he did everything else. 

Clothes. Jewellery. Books. Records. Food. Kisses. 

Vincennes University offered Eddie the chance to do what he hadn’t been able to before. Refining his craft, learning new skills, working in a state of the art kitchen with equipment he’d come home and gush to you about. The diner was doing well enough that tuition wasn’t a worry anymore and suddenly, the long commute into Indianapolis for classes four days a week seemed worth it. Eddie was passing with flying colours, receiving accolades and opportunities at every given moment and when he came home, exhausted but happy, he came home to you. 

Bone tired, he’d slip into the apartment, socked feet padding gently over the floorboards, Tupperware full of something delicious to be stacked in the fridge. He’d find you curled up somewhere, a black cat called Basil in the nook of your bent legs. He’d kiss you sweet, he’d kiss you soft, warming you up to a simmer until you forgot how much you’d missed him that day. 

It was all worth it. 

“Table eighteen wants extra hash browns and booth six needs two pepperoni’s and the Hawkins special, chefs,” you called to Steve as you slapped the orders onto the bar. 

“Got it,” Steve and Argyle called back, one a little more nervously than the other but it was okay, ‘cause Eddie was home soon. 

Eddie was home soon. 

He’d called from a pay phone outside of the school, voice buzzing with excitement, with pride, and yours mirrored his back. He’d be on the train soon, he’d meet you at the apartment, if you could get away early. So you handed your keys to Nancy and she grinned, knowing there was a cause for celebration waiting at home for you. You drove Eddie’s van back along the road, coming into town on the familiar stretch, passing Wayne’s, the trailer park you both visited every Sunday for dinner. 

The apartment door was unlocked, dimly lit in the early fall gloom, already smelling like garlic and tomatoes, like fresh bread and the scent of Eddie cologne that lingered on his jacket that hung in the hallway. Eddie’s records were in the shelves by your books, his guitar hanging from a hook in the tiny office room, his shoes on the bench by the door. He’d transformed your kitchen when he’d moved in, a decision that had been all too easy to make. There were  pots and pans hanging from the rack, shiny, sharp knives that he was scared of you using without him there, jars and tubs of ingredients stacked high in the fridge and the pantry. There were fresh herbs in planters on the window sill. The radio always played. 

The kitchen always felt like the heart of the home. 

That’s where you found Eddie, sweater sleeves rolled up and grinning at you from the stove top, a large spoon in hand as he mixed in some fresh rosemary to the pot of sauce. He greeted you with a glass of wine, the cheap stuff that you liked best, catching you in a kiss before you could bring the cup to your lips. 

He kissed you soft, kissed you sweet, humming when you laughed into his mouth, his free hand slipping inside of your shirt to ghost his fingers over your ribs. 

“Hi,” you whispered. You’d never tire of this. This warmth, this kind of greeting, this feeling of coming home. “Good day?”

Eddie nodded, stealing another kiss, catching the corner of your mouth. He gazed at you, eyes shining with excitement and you could practically feel the buzz in his bones for what he was about to say. 

“I got it.”

You blinked, once, before your smile turned into a grin and it stretched wide. You barely had the common sense to place your wine on the countertop before you launched yourself at the boy, your arms wound round his neck as your crushed your face into his curls. Eddie whooped, a joyful thing as he lifted you off your feet and grinned against your throat. 

“You got it,” you whispered back to him, everything in you frilled with awe and pride. 

“I got it,” he repeated again. His voice sounded thick. 

The internship with Chef Emmelie was something that everyone in Eddie’s class was vying for. Eddie had spent an insane amount of time on his application, using you as his own personal taste tester in both work and home. New recipes were concocted, old dishes were reworked and it had all paid off. Eddie had been hand picked to work alongside one of the country’s greats, assisting in setting up a new restaurant, a fine dining establishment that promised to deliver nothing but the best cuisine to the masses. Eddie would help create the menu, and hopefully, maybe, eventually, take over as head chef. 

It was another level of surreal. 

“I knew you would,” you mumbled into his neck, pulling back only to crush Eddie’s cheeks in the palms of your hands and give him a kiss that ducked his breath away. His lips tasted salty, but perhaps that was your own tears you could taste. Eddie just held onto you tighter, his stew mix bubbling away without any attention. “Where is it? Have they told you where you’re setting up?”

You’d held Eddie’s hand as he clutched his application letter and promised him that no matter where they sent him, you’d follow. The only thing that tied you to Hawkins, was the boy and Basil was easy enough to smuggle into a cat carrier, once you could catch him. Wayne had squashed any hesitancy from Eddie immediately, waving him off and saying that there would be private jets for each of you once he hit the big time as the new celebrity chef. And of course, there was the diner. 

Eddie laughed then, a breathy, disbelieving thing and he finally shuffled to settle you onto the small dining table that sat in the corner of the kitchen. He nudged his way in between your legs, sniffling when Basil appeared to wind around his own ankles and the only sounds were the purring of the cat and the simmering of dinner. You held your breath, brows raised, expectant. 

London? Dubai? Paris? Los Angeles?

“They wanna set up in Chicago.”

—————

Going back to the city you left was a lot less daunting with Eddie by your side. 

Wayne moved out of the trailer park and into your apartment, something that made leaving a little easier for Eddie. He still owned the diner, and promised to stop by at least a few times a month if scheduling around the new restaurant would allow. He’d found a new manager, a woman from town called Joyce who loved to bake and knew enough about taxes and accounting that she didn’t fuck up order and invoices. She loved the place like Eddie did, promised she’d do it proud. 

(She met Jim on Sunday in summer and after she served him her famous cherry cheesecake, one date in the park had turned into three, into five and now they were inseparable. They spent most of their time walking around town, visiting farmers and Jim enjoyed his retirement by helping Joyce create new desserts for the diner.)

Eddie’s internship came with an apartment in the suburbs, a small townhouse that was far enough from the hustle of the city that you felt more at home than before. It was less bright, less loud and Basil had a garden to roam in, a bench beside a vegetable patch he could bathe in the sun from. 

It had a pantry and old oak floors, a huge window that looked out onto the street that was lined with cherry trees, and a nook in the living room that you liked to read in. You found a job, pretty easily, a vintage bookstore on the edge of town that smelled like coffee and cinnamon, old pages and older stories. It was owned by an old man who let his dog sleep under the front desk, who brought in pastries for breakfast and made you sweet tea in the summer. 

The restaurant opened in the spring. Hit headlines the following day, praising the special on the menu made by newcomer chef, Edward Munson. By the summer, the heat was climbing and so was Eddie’s popularity. He was running the restaurant, got to create a new menu every six weeks and the waitlist was booked out until Christmas. He told you he loved you every time you paid him a visit, on your lunch break, a whisper between a kiss hello and goodbye in the kitchen, coy whistles from his staff that he burned pink at. 

And when you both drove back to Hawkins for long weekends and holiday stays, you crammed yourselves and Basil into your old apartment with Wayne, packed his freezer full of food and tried to convince him to take in one (maybe two) of the strays from the trailer park to keep him company. 

You spent the Fourth of July with the diner crew, in the backyard of Jim and Joyce’s new home, sharing Polaroids and newspaper clippings of the restaurant, of your new home, Eddie’s menu. Steve was in awe but nothing could beat the look of pride on your boyfriend’s face when Steve told him he’d mastered a French omelette. Argyle was running the kitchen, Nancy had been promoted to assistant manager, part time or not, and Robin had helped Jonathan in running a Sunday morning coffee club, where Hawkins residents got to taste test new bean flavours over a pastry breakfast and some town gossip. 

Eddie didn’t scowl much, not anymore. 

And when you next bumped into Chrissy, you waved at her from under the tuck of Eddie’s arm, diamond ring glinting on your left hand in the sun. She didn’t have much to say to you, not after that. 

[weebsinstash]

As much as I strongly dislike when a series kind of "cages" the self insert/OC potential of its audience, it's becoming pretty clear that there's a certain level of pre-determined-ness to Sinners and their appearances, almost to the point it's vaguely implied entire sections of Pentagram City are like, ethnically/visually distinct and that every character we see fits into some sort of category and resembles other people. There's an Overlord who's a giant raptor dinosaur and there are other dinosaur Sinners (and also she's like the club/rave based overlord and even has a business, Klub Kaiju, interesting). Valentino is a moth and there are other moths and different bugs like spiders. In the most recent episode showing flashbacks of Hell in Alastor's past, there was a past female Overlord who had the same multi-toned angular swirling hair as Velvette does. In Vox's studio in episode two, he has members of staff that are visually similar to his own aesthetic. Even up in Heaven, Angel's sister Molly still has her spider aesthetic with a halo and cherub wings

so, i guess, to go where I'm ACTUALLY going with this post.... Moth Reader who winds up catching Valentino's eyes because "oh wow we're both moths, isn't that cute" and it escalates into him seeing you as his property, ESPECIALLY if you also have weird drugging/pheromone powers like him

Like can you imagine it? You smack down into the city while he's like having lunch at a cafe or his limo is parked at a light and you're standing up all confused and helpless and cute, hugging yourself as you look around this loud violent scary new place, and you two wind up making exact eye contact and he can tell you're crying and scared, easy prey. Could you picture Reader's equivalent of his coat being that you're in a little hoodie or jacket or shawl and it just unwraps while you're sitting with him. Idk. You accidentally inhale some of his smoke and just give a cute little sneeze and your antenna and your wings are all just poofing out, you basically just equipped that shit from your inventory. On the fence if Reader would have chest fur but maybe your hair hair is really big and long and silky

Moth Reader having eye spots on their wings that can lull someone into hypnosis, or you have some sort of pheromone that makes people weak to your demands, maybe even horny for you, like some mind controlling queen bee ordering her drones. Val's in the bathroom and some creep grabs you and all of a sudden your antenna twitch and his face gets hit with a little puff of 'dust' and suddenly he's letting go of you, "oh my gosh sweetie I am so sorry, here, take all the money in my wallet, you deserve it, I'm so sorry queen, I'm gonna go jump into traffic, sorry queen, sorry, sorry, im a worm, sorry, sorry"

Valentino having unique reactions to your "pollen" as another moth or at least an addict with a tolerance. He buries his face in your neck so you "poof" him on purpose and he's just hotboxing your scent and getting high and horny while you're struggling and squealing. He forces you to use your powers on him and others so they can feel happy and high. At some point he may even force you to keep producing the powder so he can sell it as a drug or a product and at that point you're BIG INCOME for him, he might as well carry you around like his personal vape pen

Like. Can you even imagine "oh yeah Im super lucky enough that i have these powers to protect myself and potentially manipulate others" and you think you're safe and untouchable and this man is like using his fucking credit card to shift your powder into lines to snort it like a rail of cocaine. You can turn "normal" Sinners into your helpless pawns but it loses effectiveness the stronger the person is and this man is like HOTBOXING your shit, all but passing out on the couch with you in his arms in pure drug seeking unrestrained bliss. And then he fucks ya cause I mean, it's YOUR fault he's all hot and bothered now isn't it?

Just Reader not even knowing how much danger they're in because you just got here and have no idea who this guy is and you're just spinning around looking at your new appearance and flapping your little wings and maybe you can even float or fly a little bit, all happy, big big smiles, being all "oh my gosh this is so cool, I feel so cute ^^" and you don't even realize you're practically modeling yourself on a runway to one very, VERY interested customer...

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

Spider and Bats Snippets 2

[0.] [1.]

I headcanon Spider!(Y/N) meets Clark/Superman on accident before Batman does.

Just, imagine. Your heading to a part time job, super excited about it! Get on the bus, and wait... Then fall asleep..

The bus driver kicks you out at the Mertropolis bus station. Not good! You don't have enough for a ticket back to Gotham so you managed to get a part-time job at The Daily Planet, as the coffee runner! Simple enough?

Bumping into a meek Clark Kent, who is shyly thanking you for his cup of joe'. Then you, eagerly wanting a new friend in a strange enviorment, (again), asking about what he's writing.

"Wow Kent, didn't expect you to snag the new girl."

Lois teased light-heartedly. "Oh, ha-ha it's nothing like that. They're a good friend."

He shrugs it off as Lois shakes her head. "Sheesh, a lot of fella's make a LOT of trouble with that word. Good luck Smallsville."

Blinking in confusion, you were suprised she didn't notice you as you walk up beside him. "Huh... Wait, you think were good friends!?" You beam in awe at Clark, happily spinning around his desk chair. "Clark! You should of said something sooner!"

You let go, now thoughtful. "Hmmm, we should do friendship bracelets then.. I mean, I did make one with another friend of mine.. OH! I got an' idea-" "-Guh.. I-I think I.. Need to rain check.."

"Hm? What's wrong? You look dizy... Vomit-y."

I know there's different versions of how Batman met Superman. Personally, I perfer The Animated Series Ver!

I would like to think, Robin and Nightwing asked her to get Superman's autograph as a casual comment if Spider(Y/N) went to Mertropolis.

So during her "stay" at the other city, she'd often patrol and help a bit when she could.

Would totally meet Supes' on acident.

"Wow! Hello! Why is your city so much cleaner? I like your cape! Reminds me of Miguel-!" You try to descalate the situation.

You happily greet him, babbling as your buddy glared at you. You shrug at Batman's gaze, giving him a slight push. Herding him close to your side incase of any... Bad, course of action, between you and the supposed "Man of Steel".

Superman paused at the greeting, after thrown into a wall. He expected more hostily from you as well, since he read most crime-fighters were, due to the Gotham Gazette. Yet you seemed more occupied with keeping the Batman away from HIM.

Using his x-ray vision, he peaked underneath your masks.

"Bruce Wayne..." He mumbled under his breath as Batman shoved you to the side. Glaring at the super-powered male, "You peeked.."

"Hm? He did what?" You weren't paying attention, more focused on the destruction and damage. Frowning worriedly, knowung your "unexpected vaction" would meet it's end.

Superman The Animated Series: Season 1 Ep 16 - World's Finest Part 1

I can see Spider!(Y/N) being pen-pals with lot's of heros and vigilantes. Possibly even anti-heros and villians?

Carefully web-shooting the civillians away, you keep squint as you watch them dance in sync. Slightly envious, before shooting a glance at Batman.

He collapsed as groups of Music Meisters pawns held him down. Grunting as he tried to move away. You used your web to toss them away quickly. Huffing as you glanced down at your comrade.

Even with the ear-plugs, you couldn't help it!

As if spotlight shone on your cue, you sang encouragingly. Smiling underneath your mask, you hold out a hand to him. He grasps it as you slowly pull him up.

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ."And you can rise above...!" ♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ ﾟ.

The Brave and the Bold Season 1 Episode 25 Mayhem of the Music Meister!

We all know that THEE Batman has a certain type.

But this is for fun, so, (。ゝ(ェ)・)-☆

Overall, I stated perviously, it's more a comedic pairing that has many set-ups to be serious.

Watching Catwoman flee once more, you walk to Bat's side. Standing beside him politely, before.. Slowly... Reaching out your hand to his. Holding it firmly with no caution.

The vigilante glares at the action, yet you don't let up as he tries to shake your hand away.

You giggle as you watch your arm swing with his, your laughter becoming louder as he finally gave in.

Batfam relationship depends on if Spider!(Y/N) came before or after the Batfam was formed.

Personally, I perfer it before. I feel like it would show growth in Bat's and Spiders dynamic.

I sorta wanna explore it, but if ya'll got ideas Im open to it.

-

{Yay! Another self-indulg work! Lol. I was inspired once again, I really just love that more people are intrested in the idea than just myself! Horray! Comments, art, reblogs are always wanted! This is purely for fun! If anyone gets the easter egg I put, let me know!}

[whatswrongwithblue]

Girl Talk

Part 6 of my Imagines with Angel Dust. My silly little plot-less series about you, some comical conversation with your bestie Angel Dust, and some delicious smut with you and Alastor.

“Ugghh, this is stupid,” you mumbled to yourself as you stared at the blank piece of paper in front of you.

Charlie’s ‘little fun idea of the day’ was to make everyone write a list of five things they did while they were alive that they wished to apologize for. Not only did you find it a massive intrusion of your privacy but you were honestly struggling to come up with anything substantial. Didn’t Charlie realize this was why you were in Hell? And you weren’t here for redemption, you were only here because Alastor had batted his pretty eyelashes at you when he showed up at your doorstep after having disappeared for seven fucking years and asked you to move in with him here. At least, that was the very shortened and abbreviated story you told the other residents.

Were you sorry for the pig-headed men you had murdered while you were alive? No. They deserved it.

Were you sorry for stealing and then pawning jewelry from the wives of the men you had seduced? Nope. You needed the money.

Were you sorry for using and dealing drugs? Not a chance. They were an escape and again . . . money.

And, besides the murder, you hadn’t had to resort to any of those things now that you were in Hell. Charlie just didn’t understand how hard some of you had had it while alive and a lot of your sins were just survival tactics. You refused to apologize for any of it. Not to her and not to God himself.

Well, there was one small thing that came to mind. You sighed and put your pen to paper.

#1. I am sorry that after I caught my older sister sucking my boyfriend’s dick that I snuck into her bathroom and sprayed vinegar on all of her tampons and rubbed cayenne pepper into her favorite red eyeshadow.

#2. And I’m sorry that I spread that rumor about my then ex-boyfriend that he couldn’t get it up for me unless he looked at pictures of his step-father while we did it. In retrospect, I should have just punched them in their stupid cheating faces and been done with it.

But after writing those two things down, you just went back to staring at the paper for several more minutes.

Eventually, Angel came into the room and plopped down next to you, resting his head against the back of his sofa with one arm flung dramatically over his eyes.

“Ugghhh, this is stupid,” he lamented.

“My thoughts exactly. What have you got so far?” you asked, peering over at his paper.

He lifted up a blank sheet. Blank, except for a few explicit doodles around the margins.

“Fucking nada,” he sighed. Then quietly, “I love Charlie but . . . she just doesn’t get it.”

You looked over at your friend, sympathetically. He had spent all day yesterday at work, doing a 16 hour shift, then had to spend his one day off this week doing this. At least you didn’t have to work and at least you had Alastor. Angel, you knew, was terribly lonely and sad underneath his flirty exuberant façade.

Not being the kind of person to outright show compassion or kindness, you decided to cheer Angel up in another way.

“Hey, what do you call a 6.9?”

Angel lifted his head and blinked at you.

“Come again?”

“What,” you repeated, more slowly and enunciated this time, “doooooo you call a 6 point 9?”

“I don’t know, what?” he asked, shrugging with disinterest.

“A good thing ruined by a period.”

A small smile cracked across Angel’s face as he registered the dirty joke and he sat up a little further, suddenly interested.

“What do you call a lesbian with braces?” he asked.

“Oh, oh wait, I know this one!” you said, putting a finger to your chin as you tried to recall the punch line. After a moment, it came to you. “A box cutter!”

“Okay, how about this one,” he continued. “Why do you never have to worry about getting pregnant when sleeping with a vampire?”

“Why?”

“Because they have to be invited to cum inside.”

You cackled, smiling eagerly as you thought up your next joke.

“Jesus, a lawyer, and a priest are on a sinking ship. Jesus stands up and says ‘Save the children!’ The lawyer stands up and says ‘Fuck the children!’ The priest gets up and asks, ‘Do you think we have time?’”

Angel bent over laughing, wrapping two arms around his torso and holding a third to the side of his head as he fought to catch his breath.

“Good one. Okay, okay,” he wheezed, “I got another one for ya. What did the leper say to the prostitute?”

“What?”

“Keep the tip.”

You both fell into another fit of giggles.

“I don’t believe this is what our dear Charlie had in mind for today’s activities,” Alastor’s voice said from behind you and you both turned in sync to find him smiling down at the two of you. “Though I think the creativity can be appreciated.”

“Do you always gotta do that? Fucking sneaking up on people, it’s not cool man,” Angel said, frowning.

Alastor just smiled more broadly, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes, as the sound of static momentarily filled the air.

You, as usual, did not let Alastor’s weirdness sour your mood. Instead, you just beamed up at him, unashamed and happy to see him.

“I need some fresh air,” Alastor said, turning his gaze onto you. “Today is rather tedious and boring. Care to join me for a walk?”

“Babe, it’s way too hot outside.”

“Of course it is! It’s Hell, my dear!” Alastor said with a chuckle.

“It’s 125 degrees,” you deadpanned.

“Oh please,” he said with a flamboyant flick of his wrist, “I’ve never been one to let a little sun stop me from enjoying my day.” And with a bit of a huff, he began walking towards the front doors, his shoulders rigid and microphone held behind him.

You rolled your eyes. You loved him but God damn, he was sensitive when you denied him anything. And you knew he was looking for just as much of an excuse to get away from Charlie’s activity as the rest of you were. If that meant strutting around Pentagram City in his full suit and pretending the sweltering heat had no affect on him for some kind of presentation of his power, all the better. But you were going to sit in here like a sane person and enjoy the air conditioning.

“Oh, and by the way, darling,” Alastor said, stopping in the entryway after opening the door. “You wouldn’t happen to know the difference between a vitamin and a hormone, would you?”

You just scowled at him and his sugary-sweet tone. It always meant he was up to something.

“You can hear a whore moan,” he said and shut the door behind him.

You laughed a little through your nose and smiled, shaking your head. To this day, sometimes even you were surprised by the things that came out of his mouth.

Then you turned and looked over at Angel, who was staring a bit wide-eyed at the direction Alastor had exited.

“I don’t get it,” he said and you looked at him quizzically. “Is he bi or something?”

“What?” you asked, totally thrown off by his question.

“Oh please,” Angel said, imitating Alastor’s tone and the flick of his wrist remarkably well. “I’m just saying, that’s some gay shit for someone who’s supposedly straight.”

You grinned a cheshire smile before taking on an air of indifference.

“Oh that?” You made the same wave and flick of your hand. “He’s not straight.”

Angel sat up and leaned towards you faster than you had ever seen him. You bit your lip to keep from smiling, enjoying this new way of toying with him.

“So he is bi. Oh my fucking God, that is . . . I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

He seemed so excited and you let him sit with that happiness for a minute before you tore it all down.

“No. He’s not.”

Angel stared so intently at you that it would have made you uncomfortable if you weren’t so amused. You could almost see the mathematical equations in his thought bubble as he tried to work out what you had just said.

“Is this the biggest plot twist of the century?”

“Hmmm?”

“Did you just tell me he’s gay!!??” Angel practically screamed. “But I thought you . . . you two . . . are you not . . .”

You busted up laughing.

“Oh my God, you are practically short circuiting right now, you should see your face!” you said through your laughter.

Angel just continued staring at you.

“Angel,” you said, putting a hand on his arm. “I thought you were the greatest sexual detective ever. That you could read all my dirty secrets just from the way I blushed? And you’re now questioning if Alastor and I are a couple?”

“Well, yeah but . . . you said . . . and that means . . . I’m so confused!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

“Oh, calm down,” you said. “Yes, we have sex. We fuck like animals and make sweet, sensual love and everything in between. Quite regularly, too,” you said the last part with a bit of pride.

Angel looked unamused. “So if he’s not straight, and not gay, and he’s not bi, then what the fuck label does he use?” You opened your mouth to answer and he held up a finger, halting you. “And I swear, if you say something stupid like ‘pansexual’ or some other nuanced version of bi just to fuck with me, I’ll never be your friend again.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting a second to see if he would interrupt you again, before smiling broader and finally giving him your answer.

“He’s asexual.”

Angel gave you the blankest stare ever before picking up his phone.

“Hold on a sec,” he said, raising his finger at you again. “I’m looking this shit up.”

You allowed him this as he typed in his question into the search bar of his phone screen and he read whatever the internet was telling him.

“NO HE’S NOT!” Angel shouted, still looking at his phone. “It’s not even a real thing!”

Offended, you grabbed his phone out of his hand to read whatever answer he had found in his Googling.

You read out loud the ridiculous definition he had pulled up.

“’Asexual is a label invented by women who are perpetually tired of being pile-drived by their husbands’ unremarkable dicks and have overused the excuse that they have a headache.’” You sighed, raising an eyebrow at your friend. “Angel, maybe next time, use a different search engine than Pride Ring’s Dictionary. Of course it’s all going to be smartass answers like this.”

Angel snatched his phone back.

“Hey, I find them to be refreshingly honest.”

“That is not honesty, that’s mockery,” you defended. “Asexuality is valid. And so is aromanticism. Alastor is on both of those spectrums. Trust me, it made actually starting a relationship a long and complicated process . . . but it was worth it in the end.”

Angel saw the love-sick look in your eyes and rolled his eyes. “Gross,” he mumbled and kept scrolling through his phone, clearly looking at other sources for definitions.

“So you’re telling me,” Angel said, after a few more minutes of his ‘research,’ “That you are the sole proprietor of all his desires? The only person he finds sexually attractive and the only person he would pursue a relationship with? All because of your guys’s ‘deep emotional connection that you fostered over time.’”  

He was clearly reading a direct quote from something and said the last part with such a mocking tone that you were starting to get pissed off.

“Put frankly and simply, yes,” you answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“Just sounds like a bunch of bullshit to me,” Angel mumbled. “And it doesn’t explain his gay-ass personality.”

You snorted. “You don’t have to fuck to be fab.”

“But you do fuck . . . or so you say,” Angel retorted.

“What can I say, she’s just that good.”

You and Angel both turned to find Alastor standing in the foyer again, looking more annoyed than when he’d left.

“See, this is what I was saying the other day,” Angel said, gesturing towards Alastor but looking at you. “Total voyeur vibes. Always spyin’ on people.”

You ignored Angel and turned a teasing grin over at Alastor.

“Back so soon?”

Alastor glanced down at himself and fiddled with the ends of his coat sleeves before striding towards you.

“As it turns out, Pentagram City is entirely too irritating today.”

“So it’s too hot out there?”

“Shouldn’t you be packing?” he countered, ignoring your jibe.

“It’s one night Al’, it’ll take me five minutes to pack.”

Now it was Alastor’s turn to roll his eyes. “You say that every time. And every time,” he sang, and tapped you on your nose, “I end up having to wait on you.”

“Where you two going?” Angel asked.

“Just a little getaway,” Alastor answered.

“For our anniversary,” you clarified as you stood from your place on the couch and walked around it to join Alastor at his side.

Angel frowned. “Anniversary?” he puzzled. “Of your first date or . . .” his eyes darted down to each of your left hands, noting the absence of rings there. “You guys aren’t married, so . . . wait. You guys aren’t married . . . right?”

“Should we tell him?” Alastor asked you, looking down at you with a playful gleam in his eyes as he wrapped an arm around your hips.

“Nah, let him squirm for a few days,” you said and followed Alastor towards the stairs, Charlie’s project for you completely forgotten on the table behind you.

“Wait a sec . . . HUSK!” you heard Angel yell below you at the demon who was at his permanent position manning the bar. “ARE THOSE TWO MARRIED OR NOT?”

“WHO THE FUCK KNOWS!” came the dismissive reply.

You and Alastor just laughed together, enjoying this new game you had incidentally created.

Thank you to all who asked to be added to the tag-list for this series!

@readergirlstuff @thereallsaturnstar @somefancybb @moonstarrs11 @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @rhiannaleek @selenezq @speedycoffeedelight @saturn-alone @whoknowswhoiamtoday @quill-to-book @sirens-and-moonflowers @cosmiccandydreamer @littlepoetnova @axellovesalastor

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness Intermission!

(Intermissions contain percentages for a certain point in the story! This Intermission is only accurate after View 10 and before View 11.)

Please keep in mind that these will change for better, or worse, as the story develops.

And remember, someone with a percentage of 50% could have the same feelings as someone with a percentage of 100%! Each character expresses, feels and thinks differently from eachother due to their different personalities.

It is important for you, the viewer, to decide whether a harbinger has turned yandere or not. I will not reveal much, for I mustn't disturb your own thoughts.

However, I can reveal that there are currently 2 Yanderes detected, and more will soon follow... In fact, I feel it might be sooner than you realise.

~ PIERRO AND PULCINELLA ARE PLATONIC ~

Pierro - 19%

He truly does see Y/N's value as a pawn to the Tsaritsa's plans back in Teyvat, but finds their behaviour appalling. Sometimes, The Jester questions whether the Tsaritsa would appreciate them dead rather than alive in her palace once they return home.

They're an eyesore. Not only that, but they constantly complain of his presence in their house. It's not his fault, the incompetent doctor didn't think of his machine only working one way. It's because of these very reasons he decided to take refuge in your father's office. Of course, you complained the following afternoon when you realised that's where he's settling. Unfortunately for you, he's indifferent to your complaining and just pushes you out the room if you distract him from his work. Don't you have better things to do? Go bother someone else, he's sure some of the other Harbinger's have been dying to ask you more questions.

'Always yapping in my ear. When are they going to repent their useless actions, be quiet, and stop resisting the fact I've taken the calmest room in the house? It's not my fault I brought my work with me unlike some of the others.'

Pierro doesn't care for this world. Although, the technology and freedom the people seem to have reminds him of Khaenri'ah, that thought alone helps him relax when he's alone in the evening. Perhaps when Dottore sorts out his defective machine, he'll return alone to reminisce of what could have been?

Capitano - 12%

He believes Y/N is weak, and unexpectedly powerless considering their intelligence within the fate of Teyvat. Before walking through Dottore's portal, The Captain was prepared for a noble battle. However, finding you shivering in fear was not what he was expecting.

They're pathetic. They make him feel useless in this world. He's a trained soldier, an army general, a legendary and respected tale among not only the Fatui but elsewhere in Teyvat. Without a battle or a conflict, there is physically nothing he can do here. Sure, he could always fight with Childe and give him the satisfaction he's been waiting for, but Capitano doesn't feel Tartaglia is worthy of such a spar yet. Not to mention the fact you've already professed your dislike of violence, Capitano believes people in this world are wimps.

'Once again I have been refused and turned away from the front door, how else should I spend my time today...? I'll ask Lohefalter for some advice.'

Capitano feels as if this world is stationary. It seems too safe for his liking, no monsters, no powers, nothing. But is it as it actually seems? Or is this world far more dangerous than he could ever imagine due to the disguise it covers itself in?

Dottore - 39%

He believes The Decider has untouched potential. Yet, The Doctor can’t help but feel as if experimenting on them would be fruitless. He feels conflicted, and often chooses to observe their behaviour from afar with a notepad he stole from their office and a pen he brought with him.

They’re quite interesting. Dottore can’t remember the last time he was forced to observe the behaviour of someone before cutting them open. This whole experience has been a massive realisation for him, and perhaps a sadistic awakening. From now on, he’s decided that when he gets a new lab rat he’ll torment them first to get inspiration for his experiments. After all, his younger clones aren’t the most… imaginative logic wise in terms of ideas. But, you refuse to answer his questions! How is he supposed to get results if you avoid him all the time? He doesn't understand, you don't seem to be avoiding anyone else, why are you excluding him solely? ...It seems as if he'll have to rely on the 'television' for now.

‘Their lips seem to be shaking at a faster pace. They must be feeling a rapidly increasing fear in our presence. How… strange. This is common behaviour among regular people, why would The Decider of all biological beings display the same patterns?’

Dottore is keen to discover more secrets about this world, and has no doubt in his mind that there is an important link between it and Teyvat. All he needs is more evidence to make his argument... that, and with the portal working in the first place of course. How is he supposed to record his results when his portal can't take him home?

Columbina - ???

She believes The Decider is special. Very, very, special. The Damselette doesn't recognise and cannot pinpoint why she feels the way she does, but what she does know is it feels exhilarating.

They're amusing, the way they struggle and how it's clear they want to protest the Harbinger's actions. Watching their realisation that fighting back is hopeless brings her great satisfaction, it feeds her sadism in a delightful way and is a good temporary source to get that kind of pleasure considering the fact that she can't tease any of her soldiers at the moment. Often, she'll find herself stood outside of your bedroom, unable to prevent her curiosity from leading her there. She hasn't decided to go in yet, respecting your privacy for the time being. But, if you keep leading her on she'll have no choice but to disrespect that privacy and do some investigating.

'Hmm, this room is awfully stuffy but it'll have to do. Does the Decider really spend their time in here? Oooh, what's that smaller television doing there? The Jester seems to have placed his papers all over this desk, how insulting for them. Pfuhuhu...~'

Columbina doesn't mind this world. In fact, she prefers it. Here, unlike in Teyvat, she has the freedom to do whatever she wants and has an interesting mortal to keep her company. What? She's not that stupid, unlike the other Harbingers she's fully aware just how powerless Y/N actually is. She wonders how long it will take for the others to notice, and looks forward to the chaos that will follow soon after.

Arlecchino - 25%

She knows her true feelings. The Knave simply doesn't care for The Decider, she's too busy fretting over the House of Hearth functioning appropriately whilst she's away in another world.

They annoy her a lot, however unlike some Harbingers, she covers it with disinterest as her annoyance could instill more fear into them. She's used to the look of fear, and has no intention of making them feel it due to her unable to control her temper. She's controlled her behaviour in front of others before, you shouldn't be any different. So why is it, whenever you look into her eyes, is it harder for her to remain uninterested with you? Before, it was noticeable and minor, therefore she could push it away. But now? It's getting harder to manage, she tries to stay away from you any time she can. She often warns you not to look into her eyes, just as she does for anyone else. And yet, you have made no effort to correct your mistakes. Arlecchino often wonders if you're just a very forgetful person, that, or you're just an idiot.

'I mustn't let the children stay in my mind for too long. For now, I have to focus on The Decider and returning them to The Tsaritsa for the mission.'

Arlecchino pays no attention to this world. She has seen The Jester feel emotional towards its progression but can not see it in the same light. All she wants is to finish the mission so she can return to the House of Hearth and focus on the Hydro Archon's Gnosis.

Pulcinella - 40%

He finds their behaviour appalling. Y/N in The Rooster's mind is incredibly childish, he finds their 'coping methods' blatantly rude and unforgiving.

They're impossible to deal with at times. Maybe, if they had a clear idea of their own predicament and the Harbingers predicament, they would understand that none of the harbingers want to be there in the first place! The very idea of you being in the same area as him riles him up... However, he has grown to appreciate your behaviour considering it reminds him of home. Yes, you can often act worse than a 7 year old, but he does understand that you're not in a good place right now. And you shouldn't be faulted for that. Would he ever explain that to you? No, definitely not. These feelings he harbours causes him to feel protective over you at times. Pulcinella can't explain it, there's something about you that makes him so angry yet so forgiving. If you ever make it out alive under the Tsaritsa's guise, he might consider making you a high ranking attendant under him. Perhaps you'll even rise to his right-hand? No, he mustn't get his hopes up. You're bound to die the second you enter Snezhnaya.

'Did they just prohibit us from entering in the garden? I have to interject, prohibiting us from entering their bedroom is completely expected, but the garden? Absolutely not.'

Pulcinella doesn't care about this world. As a mayor, he's more focused on the heap of work he'll have to do when he returns. The very thought sends uncomfortable shivers down his spine, considering the fact that he always completes his work on time in his schedule.

Scaramouche - 47%

He sees The Decider's existence as worthless. The Balladeer can't tell whether you're dim in the head or playing your cards weakly. You have clearly shown him you're powerless and unwilling to even try and escape your situation. Must he do everything for you?

They're too nice to the Harbingers in his opinion. Why, despite them murdering your family, do you show them kindness? Show him kindness? Not even a day later of being kidnapped and held hostage in your own home, you share your food with them. They didn't command you to do that - the majority of them don't even need to eat! You chose to give them your homecooked meal, and for that, you've somehow earned Scaramouche's respect. For the first time in almost 500 years, you caused him to hold his tongue and not point out the blatant truth, your cooking was disgusting. After following you to make sure you wouldn't run out of the house crying, he promised himself that you would never have to eat that food again. Why? Because he'll cook for you. It would be wise on The Decider's part not to question him about this though, he himself has no clue why he suddenly feels care for you despite only knowing you for a couple days. The thought disgusts him, has he not learnt his lesson?

'All of their struggling so far has done nothing for them, are they waiting for the right moment? Hm, maybe I should do something to... push them in the right direction.'

At first, Scaramouche despised this world. The people are useless here, the air he breathes in feels blotched, and the surplus of technology used is downright uncomfortable for him. Everywhere he goes, there's some kind of light staring back at him. Is there even a way to turn them off? How can you sleep when there's still light outside? He doesn't understand you. Now though, Scaramouche secretly can't bear the fact that he'll eventually have to leave you. Maybe this world isn't so bad after all...

Sandrone - 40%

She thinks that The Decider is lacking something important. The Marionette can't decide whether she likes them or not. On one hand, they're knowledgeable about this world and its beautiful technology, but on the other... they look so... plain.

They're too impractical, and display irrational behaviour. It seems to her you don't think before you speak, she despises that kind of person. Sandrone believes that the truest enemy of perfection is emotion, you support her beliefs by simply being yourself. Although, you have shown resilience, which did take her off guard at first. Despite throwing a tantrum and causing an emotional escapade, you seemed to shape up after. Perhaps you got everything out of your system? To her, this is marvellous progress. Now she can continue to ask you her own questions about this world and its discoveries.

'Ugh, that's not right either. I knew I should have drawn a diagram of the machine before taking each part away to inspect. What to do, The Decider seems too busy with the others to help me out here. Perhaps I should... deal with their problems so they can deal with mine.'

In the beginning, Sandrone despised this world. It felt weird, not to mention the possible danger of unexpected attacks. After awhile, she came to regret her outbursts at Dottore, and now enjoys every single day she gets to be here. Everyday, she has a new gadget to tinker with. The list never ends, it feels like being in her workshop! Despite wishing she could return to Teyvat as soon as possible, she definitely won't become bored anytime soon. From this unique experience, she's learnt to assess the situation more before giving a vocal opinion.

Signora - 20%

She knows something is wrong with The Decider, but she just can't put her finger on it. The Fair Lady doesn't really care either way, allowing her arrogance to control her interest.

Their immaturity got them in this mess; Signora really doesn't care what happens to them in the end. Sure, you gave them a roof to stay under during their stay in this world. But, she knows that if it were completely your choice, you'd kick all the Harbingers out the second you could. Other than that, she doesn't really have anything to say to you, and has no intention of choosing to talk to you. If she was ever forced to make conversation with you, she supposes she could give you some pointers for clothes.

'What are they wearing this time!? I can't do this anymore. If it weren't for me being stuck here, I could care less. But every single hour I have to see The Decider is pure torture! Seriously, what are they wearing?'

Signora doesn't really like this world, although, she's not that bothered either. All she wants is to get The Decider to the Tsaritsa and continue her mission in collecting the Gnoses. In fact, if Dottore fixed the machine, she would be in Inazuma right now with the Raiden Shogun's Gnosis in her very hands! ...Or so she estimates anyway.

Pantalone - 20%

He has nothing to say to The Decider. The Regrator honestly cannot be bothered to talk to them, considering the fact that he would have nothing to say. It could just be him, but he doesn't see anything special in you at all. Is Dottore sure he as the right person?

They truly are boring. If you were interested in banking, or had problems with money he could advise in some way. He's so bored just fiddling with his coins in the house. Give him something to do, anything. He would beg, but he feels that's beneath him. Do you seriously have nothing to do in your house? It's not too small, so he doesn't think you're poor, but the only thing he can do is watch the 'television'. Even then, he can't do that because Dottore's hogging it all day with a pen in hand! For the love of the Tsaritsa, get him out of this world before he dies of old age. That, or give him some work. He's itching to get back into his paperwork for the Northland Bank he put off before coming here.

'And that is the 20th time I've struck heads. Has Dottore left to bother The Decider yet? Ah, it seems he has not.'

Because of you, Pantalone is shivering in anticipation to leave this world and get back to Teyvat. However, from his conversations with the mad doctor, it seems like that won't be happening any time soon. He is this close to snapping, if Dottore won't find a solution to get them out of this world, Pantalone will have to turn to you instead. If you don't have the answers he wants, you'll have hell to pay.

Tartaglia - 42%

He enjoys Y/N's company. The Young Lord* likes spending time with you whenever he can, even if he can tell it annoys you sometimes... That doesn't matter though, because what's important is you haven't pushed him away yet!

They're funny, their behaviour to him is very amusing. He's spent hours by your side and somehow doesn't get bored! In the beginning, he only spent his time around you because he wanted to know about his future, to this day he curses his selfish behaviour. Now, he spends time with you because he wants to. Besides Capitano and Pulcinella, he hates all the Harbingers and physically can't be in the same room as them for more than an hour before feeling his Foul Legacy grow within him. But you? You nullify that feeling completely. In fact, Childe hasn't felt the abyss within him grow the entire time he's been in this world which is a miracle! Occasionally, he does feel bloodthirsty and asks you for a fight. But, after seeing you shrivel away in the mention of violence, he stops himself and goes to The Captain again. He'd rather be denied by the legendary captain compared to you. Childe can still feel electro jolt through his body when he sits down for a much needed rest, The Balladeer is too harsh on him sometimes.

'Where on earth are they? They're not in their bedroom, not in the garden, not in the kitchen, and not in their office! Did they... no, they can't have escaped. Perhaps they-- Oh, there they are! That's unusual, they never go to the bathroom at this time.'

Despite enjoying his time here with you, Childe knows that after awhile he'll begin to feel homesick and wish to see his family again. He also knows that when the time comes to return to Teyvat, he'll have to let you go and give you to the Tsaritsa. This is what is stopping him from getting to know you on a personal level, the thought makes his heart feel tight in worry for you.

*Note, I am using the meaning of 'Childe' as his official title because I cannot take 'Childe' seriously I'm sorry- I see it as a nickname since that is what Tartaglia seems to use himself.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 6

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Words Count: 2,143

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more

Even though you and Ransom have started talking again, you don’t fully trust him like before. He could have warned you about his family’s plans for you.

If he claims he can't escape from his parents' grasp, you find it hard to believe, knowing how Ransom will stop at nothing to get what he wants. You’ve lost count of how many times he’s bribed people.

This time, you will stay on guard. At least you’ve got the pen drive with you. It’s your insurance in case someone tries to frame you again.

After Ransom left your apartment, you continued packing up all your things. Being a minimalist, you don’t have a lot of stuff, which is helpful. You quickly gather your essential belongings, load them into your car, and leave the city to return to your hometown.

🏙️🏙️🏙️🏙️🏙️

In the small town, everyone drives the same type of SUV. So, when your red Lamborghini enters the town, it catches everyone's eye. People are amazed, but there’s also a hint of jealousy, especially from Natasha. She grits her teeth when she sees you flaunting your wealth.

Before heading back to your father’s house, you stop at the pawn shop where you sold your Rolex.

You walk into the store and see Mr. Rogers carefully examining a pearl necklace while Steve talks to another customer. You clear your throat to get their attention.

Mr. Rogers looks up and says, “Yes? Oh, Tom’s daughter. I heard you went back to the city.”

You bristle slightly, realizing every move you make is a topic in this town. “I decided to stay a while to take care of my father. I’m here to buy back the watch I sold previously.” You show him a stack of cash.

“I’m willing to pay more,” you add, placing the money on the counter with a firm expression.

Mr. Rogers nods, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of the cash.

Mr. Rogers was impressed with you. “It’s alright. I won’t ask you for more. Wait a second, I’ll get your watch.” Then he called his son, “Steve, could you accompany Y/N?”

'No, don’t leave me,' you thought. There was an awkward moment, but Steve followed what his father said.

He nodded at you, and you did the same. While waiting, you took a good look at him. He looked different, taller, and had put on some muscle. But one thing that stayed the same was the pencil he always kept on his right ear. He’s an artist and always draws, which is why he keeps a pencil nearby.

“Are you still drawing?” you asked.

Steve never thought you would want to talk to him. “Sometimes.”

“You should tell the truth to your dad,” you said.

“The truth?” Steve looked puzzled.

“Your dream of becoming an artist,” you clarified.

Steve widened his eyes, surprised that you remembered.

“Speak up. That’s what I did after I left this town, and everything opened up for me,” you said, then continued, "Not that I care."

Before Steve could respond, his dad appeared with the watch. “Here’s your watch.”

The Rolex, the first luxurious item you ever bought with your own money, was back in your hand. It had been a gamble to sell it, but it was a promise to yourself that you would find a way to get it back.

“Thank you,” you said sincerely. Then you left the store without looking back.

After you left, Steve continued to stare at the door, even though your car was no longer in front of the store. Something you said had ignited a fire in him. He turned to his dad. “I want to say something.”

📄📄📄📄📄

You drove back home, the familiar sights and sounds of your small town easing some of the tension from your shoulders. Unexpectedly, Bucky's car was also there when you arrived.

Tom's face brightened when he heard the car, and he eagerly waited at the front door, greeting you warmly as you entered the house.

“Are you exhausted? Do you want something to eat?” Tom asked with concern, guiding you towards the dining table.

You glanced over and saw Bucky, but you chose to ignore him for the moment. On the table, there were scattered papers and a calculator, indicating some sort of ongoing work.

Tom let out a sigh, gesturing towards the mess, “Ah, it’s messy. I’m helping Bucky with the accounting, although I’m not very good at this.”

Then an idea seemed to strike him. Your father looked at you with hopeful anticipation, his hand reaching out to grasp yours, his gaze shifting to Bucky, “Maybe she could be a temporary auditor at your hotel.”

You and Bucky locked eyes, a mix of surprise and hesitation passing between you. What was this? You had just returned home, and now your dad was suggesting that you help the person who had once bullied you?

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@esposadomd

@sapphirebarnes

@cjand10

@bellabarnes1378

@thetravelingtyper

@buckitostan

@mostlymarvelgirl

@5upersoldiers1xt

@jjanereid

@cakesandtom

@queen2234

@learisa

@springsheep

@mrsstuckyboo

@read-just-cant

@loki-laufeyson68

@anixerz

@ghalouha

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!