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milqueandsugar · 3 years

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🏵 Where The Sun Meets The Sea 🏵

Warnings: mentions of kidnapping/captivity , mentions of injury/violence

Pt: I

| Feeding Time |

Emeralds clattered against the wood counter top, followed by the wet slap of a small load of fish being dropped along side the currency. "This is it?" The piglin asked, irritation practically dripping from his words as he gestured to the goods with clawed hands. "I'm.. I'm sorry sir but you're clearing out my stock faster then I can replenish" a meek voice cut through the tension. The older shopkeeper's eyes couldn't focus on just the unhappy piglin in front of him or the even less happier polar bear nosing around his shop. "I'd get to working on that then" Technoblared snarled, eye brows furrowed and movements hasty as he grabbed the net from the counter and gave the polar bears leash a soft tug.

Getting up early in the morning to retrieve Steve his breakfast had become part of Technobalde's routine. He swore to himself that he would take as much care of Steve as he did the piglin, and he stuck true to that promise no matter what. Even if that meant fishing for a couple hours because some fishermen got lazy. With his new suppourt animal came more frequent visits to the nearby village, as much as he valued the villagers who worked for him in his own home, it was much cheaper to just go to the local butcher.

Soon visits to the butcher became visits to the market, then the other shops, then the library. Although incomparable to his own, he lacked the self published one off works from the villagers. Some of his new favourite books were from that very library, although they never held an authors name, which made them hard to find anywhere else. Maybe it was the odd conditions the book were published which made him pick it up at first, but that didn’t really matter did it? What did matter was the friendship that came along with his frequent visits.

The librarian was a kind woman, though a bit nosy for his taste. No matter the length of his visit he could always count on being filled in on the towns local drama. New borns, weddings, scandals, the local cryptids. Even if the woman herself wasn’t quite his type he could certainly appreciate her stories. Although he was certain they had to be embellished a bit.

Coming up to the porch of the creaky building Technoblade tied the polar bear to the fence, dropping the load of fish to keep him preoccupied while he was gone. Stepping into the stuffy warmth of the library his nose wrinkled a bit as the smell of ciagrette smoke wafted through the air. It seemed the smell of smoke and mold had practically embedded itself into the very walls of the structure. Rather unpleasant but fitting for the place. Black eyes quickly caught sight of movement to his left, turning to give a curt nod to the woman behind the desk he quickly approached, heels clicking against the polished floors. “Technoblade! Bit early aren’t ya? It’s just passed eight” The woman declared, flipping closed what looked to be a romance book.

“The wind woke me, I’m guessing it did you as well” Technoblade hummed, pulling out a stool to sit in front of the brunette. Her gray eyes rolled to the left, a small smile tugging at her lips as she swatted at him. “It’s rude to tell a lady she looks tired, do you know no manners?” She scolded, snuffing out her cigarette in a small tray. “It’s unethical to be smoking during buisness hours, I may be ill mannered but at least I would keep my job” He snapped back, a smile begining to form on his own lips as Iris hesitated. “Oh? So you do work then?” She hummed, leaning forward to rest her arms on the desk.

Ever since he had met the lady she was infatuated with him, maybe it was because he was a piglin, or because he didn’t tell her anything. Either way she was obsessed with knowing anything she possibly could. She would dig her talons into the smallest of comments, there wasn’t much use hiding anything from Iris, it was only a matter of time before she found out eventually.

“Anything to share today?” Technoblade quickly changed the topic, taking notice of the way Iris’s eyes narrowed. After a few seconds it seemed she had given up, leaning back in her rocking chair and kicking her feet onto the counter. Seemed today she was too tired to put up a fight about this, or she was unsure of her suspicions. “Well, I didn’t bring this up cause I thought it was a one time thing but..” Pausing for dramatics Iris continued her tale. “A couple of Fishermen have gone missing, given the weather everyone thought they either got lost or came across a polar bear. But! Some of the school kids were out playing by the water and they came across one of them” She exclaimed, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke.

“Dead?”

“Dead as a doornail, they found the rest of their bodies too, apparently they’ve just been walking into the ocean by the looks of it. But here’s the kicker, they were always found in the same place and far from the water, on the shore yeah but the waves wouldn’t wash them up that far. The men have been talking, and from what I hear there’s a witch down there, drowning the fishermen” Iris thought aloud, letting her feet fall from the desk as she leaned forward. “You know what I think?” She asked, not waiting for an answer before continuing. “I’m thinking Sirens”

Technoblade rose a brow, interest piqued by the gossip to say the least. “Sirens? They lore sailors too sea not fishermen” He corrected, rising to his feet. “Fishermen, sailors, who cares! All I know is that a lot of people have died this week, and if you’re going fishing like I think you are” Isis gestured toward the fishing rod held tight in his clawed hands. “Then you should be careful” She warned, her voice lowering a bit.

Technoblade shook his head, a scoff escaping him as he fixed his jacket to leave. “I will Iris, take care yourself” He mumbled a soft farewell before quickly leaving the library, knowing better then to let Iris continue with her stories. Untying Steve from the post he clambered a top the bear, pulling the reins tight as they started off towards the ocean.

Sirens, huh?

#dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #dsmp imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #mcyt x you #technoblade x you #blood for the blood god #technoblade x reader #technoblade x y/n #techno x reader #philza x you #philza x y/n #philza x reader #where the sun meets the sea

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instasiswetrust · 3 years

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Steve's not quite drunk but there's a pleasant buzz under his skin that leaves him feeling pliant and loose, enough to keep any unsavory thoughts at bay for the time being.

The scent of chlorine and bleach that envelops him once he opens the pool doors, familiar comforts by now, help clear some of the haze of alcohol that has befallen him from his last drink taken at the Auris that night. Or morning. He's not entirely sure.

It brings back the memories that he had been trying so hard to forget. A lavender envelope had been in his mail that day, inside of it an invitation trimmed with delicate filigree. For Nancy's and Jonathan's wedding.

A fall wedding.

The type which he and Nancy had joked about back when they were together, not long before Jonathan had joined them.

He had gone through his work with the kind of detachment that usually meant nothing was truly registering. Adam might have noticed at one point, too attuned already to the tells under the porcelain of Steve's mask, but the memory is fuzzy and he can't remember if he ever gave a proper answer to his manager's concerned query.

As soon as work was done, he had made his way to the Auris in search of something to get his mind off the pain that clutched the shards of his heart like a vice. Or rather, someone. It had been his favorite dancer's day off or something though, leaving him to spend the rest of his night watching the dancers on stage and sipping on the ocassional drink.

Something had made him want to climb the stairs to the gym's pool, though. And that's why he was here now.

"Are you drunk?" The voice that speaks has become familiar in the same way the scent and sounds of the pool has and when he looks up to meet the eyes of its owner, he finds them startled if slightly amused.

"Only a little bit." He shrugs, plopping down by the edge of the pool with his legs crossed under him. The bleach might leave stains on his Levi's but he can't really muster enough energy to give a fuck right now. "'s not that bad."

"You kind of reek of cigarette smoke and whiskey."

Yep. Definitely amused.

"Spilled some scotch on my shirt. The smoke is probably from the cab driver." Another shrug but this time he levels Billy with apologetic doe eyes. "I can leave if it bothers you."

"You're fine, I was just curious." The blonde swims closer, crossing his arms over the edge next to where Steve sits once he's close enough. "First time I've seen you up here wearing something other than your ridiculous pajamas."

"They are not ridiculous!" Steve protests at once, pouting. "And you have seen me in swimwear too!"

"Last week you were wearing bright red shorts that said Bite Me across the ass, and a t-shirt that said Friends don't lie in big bold letters with a heart-shaped waffle at the center." Billy deadpans, raising a single eyebrow. "The shirt was at least two sizes too big for you."

"They were gifts." Brown eyes narrow into a glare but the petulant pout kind of offsets the vibe.

"I thought models were supposed to have taste in clothes."

"We're supposed to look pretty while others dress us. It's not in the job description to have taste."

"So you admit you have no taste then." Billy was giving him that smirk, the one Steve called insufferable but discretly considered hot as fuck. How dare he be so sinfully handsome.

"I said no such thing!" Steve crosses his arms over his chest, tipping his chin up in the perfect picture of snotty petulance. He could already feel the laughs bubbling in his chest, wanting to break the mock facade.

It takes only a second or two of Billy giving him an skeptical look before they are both laughing.

He had missed this kind of easy-going banter. Most of his friends he only saw around the holidays, and the environment at work was more prone to talks about weight loss and botox than anything else.

New York never slept but that only made it all the more lonely.

His sullen mood must've reflected on his face because he feels something poke at his thigh, meeting Billy's eyes when he turns to look at him.

"You didn't just come here so I could make fun of your taste in clothes, did you?"

"I-"

It's only then that Steve realizes Billy is right.

The reason his alcohol fogged brain has preferred to come up here rather than crash into his bed wasn't just some way of punishing himself even further. Not entirely at least. He had come here because it was a place of comfort for him.

And because he had a friend here, too.

"No. Not just that." Steve sighs, letting his eyes focus on the slow movement of the pool water instead of Billy's face.

"Do you..." A moment of hesitation, as if he's not sure about his words. "want to talk about it?"

Brown eyes close, keeping his focus on the in and out of air through his lungs for a few moments until he feels less like he's going to burst out crying the moment he sets these awful thoughts into words.

Makes them all the more real.

"My... exes. They are getting married. To each other." He doesn't open his eyes, doesn't do anything more than try to keep his voice steady even as the aching pain of heartbreak weighs down on his chest. "I received the invitation this morning."

There's a low whistle. It sounds like sympathy. It sounds real.

"That bites," Billy says, and his voice has a dulled edge to it. Commiseration with flavor, or something like that, but it's three am and there's nothing but cold tile and the soft wake of lit water. "Is this ... like a sudden spur of the moment thing?"

When Steve turns doe eyes to him, Billy raises up his hands, only moderately pruned, in an easing gesture.

"You don't have to answer. Just..." A pause. A beat as the swimmer looks for the right string of words. "Just trying to gauge how much of a dick move this is."

There's a laugh, dull and mirthless. A sad little sound.

“We have been friends since high school. All three of us dated for a bit longer after that. We went through some hard stuff together back in Indiana.” He shrugs, keeping his eyes closed. Tears at bay. “Was supposed to be the kind of friendship that lasted even after we broke up.”

It’s all my fault. He doesn't say.

My stupid heart and I. We ruined it all.

It takes a split second of contemplation, because, after all, they're total strangers. But once upon a time, someone gave Billy this sideways kindness and it helped. Maybe Steve and his overly fancy hair won't mind it too much.

So Billy acts on the impulse.

It's a tiny splash. Really very minuscule. Aimed and precise for the minimum impact upon the sitting duck target. But water is water. Nobody can tell tears from pool water.

"You were thinking too hard." He places the excuse on the table, sinking lower into the water, comfortable in this strange company. Even if the guy seems to be at the end of his rope. There's something about him. Like a dream you don't want to forget. "I could see the smoke. Had to cool you down."

The water is warm and yet is still enough of a shock to force Steve's eyes to open.

His first instinct is to protest, say something about the action being rude and uncalled for. Stand up and leave, most likely.

But what he sees in Billy's face — hears in his voice — is enough to give him a moment's pause. To truly appreciate the action for the small kindness it is.

This time when the tears dribble down his cheeks in quiet drops, he has something to hide them behind.

“You really think you're funny, huh?”

And if his voice is a little too wet to be considered normal, they don't have to talk about it.

"I'm hilarious," Billy says as he sinks a little lower into the water, mostly to hide his smug grin, but in part to hide away. "The girl gang that lets me tag along sometimes says so."

“Of course you are.” Steve rolls his eyes, using his fingers to brush back his mostly dry hair. He should probably wash the chlorine out of his hair before going to bed or it would be stiff come morning.

“Is that why you're trying to become a prune? For maximum fun effect?”

“Nah,” Billy waves off the prune comment. He’s hardly started his routine. Pool time ain’t over until everything has that post-workout burn and his stomach begs for food. Makes time easier to keep that way. “I just like to swim.”

Just like Tony Hawk likes to skateboard, he supposes, but understating his profession like this is one of the best parts of the job. Gotta get your kicks when you find them.

“Why? Got something against prunes?” He laughs, “They just want to help you. Healthy stomach, and all.”

“Not particularly, but they do remind me of my Nonna. She likes her prunes.” Another shrug, this time easier. Easy banter is much better than worrying about that little envelope sitting on his coffee table.

The tears have stopped too, the contacts itching slightly against his eyes. Probably from the mix of salt and chlorine. Thankfully, his cardigan is mostly dry and he takes it off to use it as a makeshift towel.

“Is that why you're always here at weird hours? You some sort of pool cryptid or something?”

“That’s only step one of my master plan.”

Billy likes the sound of pool cryptid. Sounds a lot more mysterious and fun than what he’s actually doing, which is training until he drops so the nightmares won’t kick up.

A snort, loud and sudden leaves Steve at that, straining a little in his throat. Mom would say it's undignified. Dad would say it's ugly. He doesn't particularly care either way.

“And pray tell, what would step two entail? Flooding the city?”

Cute laugh, Billy thinks briefly surprised. Much better than seeing the guy choke back tears. Let's see if he can't instigate a bit more of that amusement. It's bound to taste better than the misery the brunette wanted to wallow in.

"What kind of water-based supervillain do you take me for?" Billy, mock-miffed, places a hand over his heart and huffs. "That's so silver-age comics. And you're not even my henchman. Why should I tell you anything about my master plan?"

A finger taps at his chin, seemingly thinking hard about his answer. Steve's not particularly well versed in comics but Dustin’s done his best to keep him on the smallest of loops.

He no longer mixes Superman with Captain America, at least.

“Fair point. You don't have the looks to pass off as Aquaman.” Steve purses his lips, offering his best apologetic doe-eyed look. Although he's definitely bluffing because if there's anybody out there who could give Aquaman a run for his money it would be Billy. “And who says I couldn't be your henchman?”

"Did you fill out the paperwork?"

Everyone knows bureaucracy is the lungs of evil. Or something like that. Sue him, he was never great with metaphors on the fly.

“Honey, if I wanted to fill paperwork I wouldn't have taken modeling as a career.”

It's an exaggeration for the most part. Steve's too used to poking fun about himself these days that it doesn't sting as bad as it used. Not too much.

Billy cocks his head and lets the loaded sentence drop and drift away.

"Then guess you can't be a henchman."

“I can make killer margaritas, though.”

“I don’t really drink too much.” The nightmares get worse when he’s anything but sober. It’s better to be exhausted. It’s the easiest way. “Medication reasons.”

A little white lie that’s hardly a lie, he really shouldn’t drink with his ADHD meds, but who ever listens to that rule? Nah. Only when it suits him.

“Model thing explains your hair though. Glad we solved that mystery.”

“Fair.” Steve offers a smile, crooked and a little pinched at the edges but a smile nonetheless. “I’m not supposed to either. Nutritionist's orders.”

To be fair, he's not supposed to be drinking at all. Smoking too. It's a little hard not to indulge every once in a while, though.

The model comment surprises him. There's a billboard with his face just a few blocks down from this apartment complex. He can see it from his room. How has this guy not recognized him?

It's surprisingly refreshing.

“Hm? Oh no, the model thing has nothing to do with my hair. That's just personal taste.”

Now that Billy cares to look, Steve’s face is achingly familiar. Oh, the trials and tribulations of having attention issues. At least there’s a better reason for the weird familiarity than must just have one of those faces.

“Can’t relate.” He’s not particularly attached to any bodily feature of his. It’s a side effect, he’s told. Reassured. It's just a consequence, and nothing more. “Doing things with hair? Nah. Sounds too complicated.”

“Sounds like the kind of thing a pool cryptid would say.” There’s a story behind Billy's words. Something missing, hidden skin deep. Steve hopes the light jab helps diffuse that somewhat.

“What are you, a cop?” Billy smirks, and because he is the pinnacle of maturity, he dips under the water with an obnoxious splash.

“Asshole” Steve hisses, droplets dribbling down his bangs and into the cardigan bunched up in his lap.

With a sigh, he forces himself to get up. Might as well take that shower now.

Billy surfaces, still grinning, because even if the guy looks pissed at him, that means he’s not stewing in the past with his soon-to-be-married exes and the Hercules-class weight of baggage that relationship caused.

“Guys by the pool get splashed. No matter what time it is or how cute they are. Cryptid rules.” His smirk it's wide, tip of his tongue between his teeth. "If you weren’t prepared to get wet, then why’d you come?”

Steve shrugs, doing his best to ignore that peek of a pink tongue. “The local cryptid makes for good conversation.”

“So you’ve been watching me?” Billy makes a little show of floating back, caught in thought. “I don’t know how I feel about spectators.”

“I can stop.” Painfully honest. If Billy really wants him to, Steve would stop. He would prefer not to, though.

“Nah. I’m only pulling your leg.” Billy returns to the pool’s edge. Rests his cheek on the edge, looking up at pretty boy model Steve.

“Things get too quiet sometimes.”

Steve hums softly in agreement, feeling relief ease itself back into his bones. He would have stopped, yes, but he wouldn't have particularly liked the prospect of it.

“You come here every day? Or have I just happened to stumble in on the days you're around?”

"Almost every day. Sometimes I take this side-show to other pools." Billy cracks his best Han Solo roguish smile, levies it against Steve's still too flat smile. "Gotta keep the government guessing sometimes, you know."

“Of course, wouldn't want to get caught and all that.” A yawn gets past Steve's lips, startling him. He hadn't registered how tired he was. “I’ll keep that in mind, for next time.”

“Thank you.” Quieter. Softer. Barely above a whisper but loud enough in the gentle silence of the pool.

It comes just as soft. It's almost tender, really, as the word casts across the water and tile and the near-lonely pool.

"Anytime."

---

The next time Steve visits, it's once again 3 AM but he makes the mistake (is it really a mistake?) to bring a tin of sugar cookies with him.

"Oh shit, are you sharing, or is this all to tease me?"

Steve is sitting by one of the benches, already halfway through a cookie. “Come out here and find out.”

Billy narrows his eyes, lips pulled into a thin frown.

"Fool me once." He waggles a single warning finger and doesn't even really bother to dry off as he drags himself out of the pool to plop down on the floor next to Steve and steal into the snacks.

There are enough cookies for both of them stuffed neatly in a tin container. It's awfully pretentious according to Dustin, but then again Steve's Nonna always said cookies tasted better stored that way.

“I'm not mean enough to just eat while you watch. Yet, at least.”

"Oh just wait until you know me better." Billy chirps, shoving two into his mouth, wholesale and choking a bit.

"Robin and Carol would do that in a heartbeat."

“They probably would have a good reason too.” Steve teases, watching with amused eyes as Billy almost chokes. They are just sugar cookies he managed to scrounge up with whatever was in his kitchen. Nothing that good.

“Easy there tiger, cookies ain't going anywhere.”

"You have no idea how hungry I always am."

Steve blinks, surprised. The words come out before he has a chance to truly think them over. “I’m a good cook.”

"Prove it." It's out of Billy's mouth before he can take it back, but on second thought, he doesn't really want to. Steve's good company, or at least he has been so far.

And he hasn't had a nightmare since.

Good omens.

“You're kind of choking on the proof right now.” Maybe it comes out a little lighter, a little too surprised.

That's fine. Whatever this thing is, it doesn't seem like too bad of a chance to take.

“But if you need some more convincing, I can offer dinner too.”

Wheezing, but recovering, Billy grins up at Steve but there's a hopeful spark in his blue eyes that wasn't there before. "Fuck yeah, gotta make sure it's not a fluke."

Steve offers him the thermos of coffee he had brought with him, suddenly too distracted by watching Billy drink to remember what he wanted to ask. “Uh... When are you free?”

"This Sunday, I think. Getting back from a rapids trip that I shouldn't keep doing but like fuck am I gonna listen to other people for something dumb like my health."

“Is it like, you could die type of thing or just one of those things doctors say we should stop doing and everyone ignores? Because dead people don't particularly eat.”

"I do dumb shit because regular training gets boring and people who actually like me have to put up with it." Billy waves a dismissive hand. "But that's what it takes to get me moving on schedule so. Yeah."

It drives his coach insane because doing his reps in real rivers with real currents isn't exactly... well. It's not what everyone else does for training and given that he has passed out mid-stroke before, he can't even say the risk is just the current. But he knows that upstate rivers like the back of his hand.

Yeah, life would be way easier if he didn't have ADHD, less doctor's notes for the cause of amphs in his piss, but it would also be super boring and he'd be even more traumatized, probably. And that would suck.

Steve thinks of Indiana, and a bat full of nails. Of cliff diving at the quarry, drunk on stolen bourbon and tasting cheap cigarettes. Of the Auris with his slew of dancers most of who he's shared a bed with more than once.

He thinks he has some experience with the whole doing dumb shit just to get his schedule moving.

"I will take your word for it then." Hums, thinking back to his schedule and what he has paged in for Sunday. There was that casting thing Adam wanted him to do but it was morning. "I should be free on Sunday. Any allergies I should account for?"

“None that I know of.” Spoken cheerfully

“Great. Gives me more to work with.” And this time when he smiles, it's the most honest he's offered since they met.

---

When he finds it again, it is entirely on accident.

Adam had scheduled a trip to California for a gig, something about a new summer line of wetsuits and surfboards this company wanted him to advertise. It was a big opportunity and it was good cash too, of course so Steve wasn't going to question why they thought it a good idea to present a summer line in the middle of august. But as usual, he had forgotten to pack his suitcases until the night before, and now he was left to scramble around his apartment searching for his stuff.

So when he finds the lavender envelope buried under a few recipe books and a hoodie, still unopened, he doesn't think much about it and opens it. It's only when he's staring at the date stenciled in black calligraphy under Nancy's and Jonathan's name that he realizes what he's looking at.

Oh right. Those two were getting married.

The familiar ache in his chest is still there, but it's muted enough that he's surprised. Between canceling his exclusive membership at the Auris, and his relationship with Billy coming out to the media, he had sort of forgotten all about the wedding.

Maybe...

Grabbing his phone from the bed, he shoots his boyfriend a quick text.

How do you feel about being my plus one to my exes' wedding?

#WIPs #stranger things #model au #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

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feather-dancer · 4 years

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Trollhunters Fanfic Recommendations - Part 3

Somehow there is now a third one of these because I read far far too much fanfic and have no regrets about it. It’s with great pleasure I can also announce I’ve been digging around for Trans Jim fics and found some gems while I was at it that have been included below.

You can find Part 1 of my fanfic recommendations here!

And Part 2 here!

Plus one shameless plug for my own current fics.

General Trollhunters

(And you're my Arcadia.) - All you need to know is it’s Jilaire post Season 3 and one line in particular made me burst out laughing.

Bitter[sweet] - Sometimes the thing you need most is just a really good friend when your body plain sucks. Contains Trans Jim and is delightful.

the red book - Far beyond the humble days of Season 3 and after living beyond his human family and friends, Jim has started to forget who he was and that he was ever just a human kid.

The Halls of Arcadia High - When Strickler disappeared in Season 1, his absence was felt in many ways even in the form of a humble piano left un-played.

Not - Not!Enrique isn’t his name yet it’s what they call him anyway. An albatross reminding him of what was taken before he even had a chance to start.

On the Radio - The final telling of the Janus Order.

Gay stories for Tales of Arcadia - Yeah I’m pretty sure you can guess where this is going, LGBTQ+ rep!

Through the Fires - There was a before time, one where Gunmar still roamed free and Deya had yet to be chosen let alone felled. These are the words of the humble witnesses of that war, from the changelings to the trolls who would oppose them.

Trollhunters: A Series of Disjointed Drabbles - This is so cute and fluffy I might just spontaneously combust.

Insomnolence - It is after the final battle and Jim has a lot of thoughts.

another tragedy - Anxiety is a bastard, it gives a lot of bad thoughts but sometimes there is a little bit of truth buried beneath it all and it whispers all about how you can keeping doing the wrong things for the right reasons. Season 2.

i will always hold you close (but i will learn to let you go) - Sometimes the hardest thing you can do is learning when to let go. Sometimes however, even when you want to they hold back even tighter. Season 2.

your eyes look like coming home - Toby has been the witness from the start of just how close Jim has been to death multiple times over and how Jim he is about the whole thing. It scares him how this time might be it, again and again. Season 2.

The Collected Tellings of Shigir and Other Changeling Folktales - I don’t actually know which category to put this under so I’m going the to heck with it route instead. Does exactly what it says on the tin for your Changeling lore needs, some of which will be off-hand mentioned or outright appear during the fantastic Terpsichore - The Comedy of the Danse Macabre - ACT I.

Please note: The main fic is Stricklake if that’s not your cup of tea, the folktales however can be enjoyed regardless.

~~~

Stricklake

all that dazzling dawn has put asunder - The sequel to in my sleep i dreamed of waking, this is filled with delightful fluff, internal panicking and the joys of trying to explain how you’re a not and how that does not change the fact Strickler is still a was. Being a changeling in these strange after times are difficult even before the other baggage involved but at least you're still here to start.

Two Pisces in Alto Mare - When in Rome as part of a study trip abroad, you meet the most curious people sometimes and by fluke or nature you may even do so more than once.

Filling The Gaps - Possibly a bit of an unusual mention but! These are little pieces of Fallout that were going on while our eyes were following elsewhere and boy it can hurt.

Rehearsals and DvD Bonus Features - Another from the home of Terpsichore - The Comedy of the Danse Macabre - ACT I which is being listed here because it does have Stricklake in it. Some things don’t make the cut with writing fanfic, either because the plot wandered off, it doesn’t fit right or it’s some backstory you haven’t quite figured out where it can be naturally brought up yet and in this case they’ve found themselves a home. Be warned, one particular chapter is explicit and has been marked as such in warnings in the chapter summary.

~~~

Alternate Universes

(Un)Becoming - Not technically an AU in the conventional sense but I’m putting it under here anyway. It’s Unbecoming, as ever the road to hell is paved with good intentions but as Jim threw in the towel the storm that’s coming will not be stopped. However, what if others caught glimpses of a world that still had a human Trollhunter to defend it?

Steve the Kind - Steve became the Trollhunter but how the adventure unfolds differently than when Jim was at the helm might just surprise you. Very slow burn Steve and Jim that in a rather refreshing change doesn’t throw Claire under the bus for it to happen. Praise be.

31 Days in the Darklands - Strickmar that somehow kinda works?? It helps with Gunmar having the space to breathe outside of getting Morgana out and be more of his own character. Storywise, in order to rescue Jim from the Darklands Strickler broke a deal that would cost his own freedom and now has to somehow maintain a treaty between three very different factions all the while keeping his own neck intact. The intense distrust in changelings continues on to boot but hey, nobody said politics was easy.

Building Bridges - So Gunmar is distinctly of the more Eldritch variety with dream powers, the ability to easily see through lies for the true emotions and thoughts, Bular has the Insight as well to a lesser extent and everyone has somehow managed to hop onto Stricklander’s bandwagon of we must protect Jim Lake Jr. at all costs. Now the race is on as both sides try to sway the young Trollhunter to their way of thinking and the Trollmarket has no idea how dangerously badly they’re doing so far.

Lost Souls - A fic written in variable snapshots. Jim was kidnapped and changed by Merlin far earlier to be his Champion to ensure he did the “right thing” while Barbara in desperation to find her son falls into the hands of Morgana thus mother and son become enemies without even realising it.

Faithfully - Barbara died overseas and yet somehow Jim still managed to make his way back to Arcadia to become the next Trollhunter. This road is far harder for it as a seemingly homeless orphan though on the flipside he keeps on acquiring dads. Contains Trans Jim, timeline variable snapshots and I love it very much.

The Burning - There was a fire, it killed Barbara and Jim was thought dead as well. Nobody could have guessed the feral half changeling that is running around like a cryptid is the very much alive Jim.

Finding Daylight - Jim is a very low ranking changeling, terrified of Bular and his home amounts to little more than a spot in the woods. Things started to go pear shaped for him when he accidentally stumbled over Blinky and only more so when the amulet picks him after Kanjigar is felled. Tis not a kind world for a changeling child out there and he has nobody really to help watch his back until he stumbles on a potential maybe.

~~~

The bonus shoutout for an excellent MSA fic

A Sleep Like Death - Who wouldn’t want to go visit a tower you’ve inherited apparently and has haunted as all hell all over it? Not Vivi that’s for sure. Poor Arthur is just along for the ride and then things start to get really weird when they find it’s still occupied and thinks Arthur is his jailor.

#Trollhunters

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bewaretheidesofmarchyall · 4 years

Text

Soulmate Shenanigans Five: The Order Of The Shenanigans

Hey! Guess who has returned?

Me!

Just the March doing her prompt writing thing, as seen on previous episodes :)

Parts one, two, three, and four here!

Prompt #5

Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience

Warnings for kidnapping mention and gifted kid “potential” mention

Okay. Not going to lie, I kind of tweaked the concept, but I like how it turned out. The idea of the sides having sides in human AUs has been in my brain, and now it’s in yours!

World Building

At first, the symptoms of having a soulmate was seen as symptoms of witchcraft

It was a reasonable assumption to make, as seeing into someone’s head and emotions wasn’t really a thing that humans did.

However, as the population grew and communication across the globe became a thing, the instances of people finding their soulmates grew as well, and not everyone could be a witch (or, if they were, being a witch was simply being human).

It took a while for the culture around soulmates to shift, but shift it did, and people eventually figured out “Oh, that person is my soulmate, not my eternal enemy that I need to destroy via my demonic powers, which I totally have”

But people’s minds are kind of a lot, and it’s hard to process it all.

So, in modern day, people have learned to separate the pieces of their soulmate’s personality that they get bombarded with into different pieces, or sides

The sides are Logic, Morality/Emotions, Creativity (with there sometimes being a divide between dark and light), Self-Preservation, and Anxiety.

Characters

Roman: Roman is looking forward to meeting his soulmate so much!

Just...later.

When he’s a famous writer and people know about him and he’s evened out his insecurities and he deserves them!

Being perfect for them is going to take work, but most people meet their soulmates over 30, so he’s got at least fifteen years to prepare.

Until then, he was working on his fantasy story and dreaming of the day he’d get published or get the lead in a school play.

The writing club had been his idea, so you could say that everything that happens in the story was his fault. He’d just wanted to be around people who liked the same things he liked!

Roman’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:

Note: Names are hard. Aaaagh.

Magnus, his creativity, romance, passion, etcetera. Magnus is really the one who calls the shots around here. He’s just as goofy of a fifteen year old (if not more) as Roman, but he has the unenviable position of running a mind palace and being the ego of someone who hates himself.

This guy just wants to listen to Hamilton, but noooo, he had to have an evil reflection of himself and self-worth issues.

The Count, his self-preservation and pretty much Roman’s inner Roxie Hart/Velma Kelly. Randomly suggests poisoning their mortal enemies a lot (note: they don’t have mortal enemies).

The most like canon Janus out of any of the self preservations, except instead of “we live in a society” it’s more “fuck it, we’re going to be *famous*!”

The other sides will pay him to stop saying, “that’s showbiz”

The Medic, his morality and emotions. Sort of has a medieval healer thing going on (which means herbs in a satchel, not plague doctor mask).

A lovely person on his own, but when he and The Guard team up, it’s ✨Guilt time!✨

He has the question of “Am I a terrible person?” on his hands, so...good luck to him. He’s trying to hold the five of them into a cohesive unit, but it’s hard!

The Guard, his fears and anxious thoughts. He has a shield and a spear, and is kind of dressed like a (dark and stormy) knight.

No one particularly likes him, but it’s his job to recognize The Shadow, so they all need him.

He hangs around on the outskirts of the mindscape, ever vigilant.

The Alchemist, his logic. No one listens to the voice of reason in this house. Al isn’t really a fan of this, and being Roman’s logic, he thinks that if he can find a way to prove himself it’ll turn out okay.

The Shadow, everything Magnus discarded. You could call him dark creativity, but he’s a lot more.

They used to call him Rex, when they were kids.

Patton: Patton isn’t thrilled with having to move to a new school, but he’s keeping a positive attitude

The new town is creepy and making friends is harder than he thought, and he just wants to right a sappy love story about ghosts without feeling sad.

But if he keeps his chin up, he knows it’ll all be fine!

And hey, maybe he’ll find people who like him in this writing club thing!

Patton’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:

Patrick, his morality and emotions. Patrick feels all of the loneliness and desperation that Patton feels daily, but pretends he doesn’t feel it, since he has to be there for them!

Them meaning his family, meaning the rest of Patton’s mind, as well as Patton, since he’s kind of an older brother/role model to the guy.

Covering the full scope of human emotions isn’t great when the other half of your job is enforcing the sense of right and wrong (and the general consensus in Patton’s head is showing negative emotions = burden = wrong).

None of them can cook, but that won’t stop him from trying!

The Canary, his fears and anxious thoughts. Constantly popping up to remind everyone that they’re failing. It’s kind of his job.

Stress plays the piano when things get to be too much.

The Gardener, his creativity, romance, and passion. Conjures flowers a lot. Projects wishes for a soulmate into the sappy ghost love story, which he’s mostly in charge of writing.

Hasn’t split yet, but that’s mostly because nearly all of Patton’s negative impulses that would be considered “dark creativity” already come from The Miser.

Dr. Picani, his logical side. Knows everything about cartoons, and tries to be professional, but a complete sweetheart.

Secretly knows his name is Emile, but is waiting for the best moment to tell everyone.

The Miser, his self-preservation and deceitful side. No one’s a fan of him. Patrick is kind of his mortal nemesis (in the sense that Patrick claimed the title and he just kind of went along with it?)

Everyone else in the Pattonsphere refuses to curse, but he says many a “fuck” with ease

Trying to protect The Gardener from splitting by taking responsibility for most of the things a dark creativity would do.

Virgil: Virgil just didn’t want to join the yearbook committee.

It was irrational, maybe, to have a deep rooted hatred of the yearbook committee.

They were just trying to categorize things, design pages-it wasn’t malicious!

And yet, being in that classroom and seeing Amelia’s dead eyes and smile near rang every alarm bell in his system, so he needed a way out this year.

His parents weren’t going to let him not choose an activity, so he flipped a coin and ended up in some writing club.

He came into the club determined to fake some pretentious poetry about death. Just because they say the club’s about expression or whatever doesn’t mean that they can know anything about his comics.

Virgil’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:

Dante, his fears and anxious thoughts. Dante has too many eyes. Dante is lowkey a cryptid, but he’s sadly a cryptid in charge of life decisions.

There’s no way to dance around it. Dante’s a spider-human hybrid.

Dante would prefer they never be perceived by anyone for anything. He does not want to be seen, he does not want to be heard, he does not want to be perceived. Period.

But he’s a very conspicuous spider-human hybrid.

The Competent One, The One Who Can Actually Do Math, Steve, whatever you want to call him, he’s Virgil’s logical side.

His theories are just....

See that image? That kind of sums up his characterization.

Parker, his creativity, romance, and heroic side. He’s the one who got them obsessed with comic books, and is trying to write his own. If people don’t like the comics, he’ll probably just start screaming and never stop

He gets the purple eyeshadow!

Remy, his self-preservation. He mainly just wants Virgil to just...rest

Nap. Sleep. Take a self-care day. This is Remy’s goal.

Also to continue to have the most style out of anyone in the Virgilsphere

Remy has a talent for never being anywhere at the right time, and then popping up at the worst moments, caffeine in hand.

Tam, his morality and emotions. The most into the emo phase out of any of them, since he feels all angst!

Sometimes just hovers and screams. Everyone’s pretty used to this.

Logan: Logan was trying to ignore the things he’d seen

Logan was a scientific guy. He knew that magic wasn’t real, that the fae were just stories.

So, clearly, the nightmarish things he’d seen that night were just that: nightmares. Just nightmares caused by stress over his academic struggles.

That was the immediate problem at hand: academic struggles. Logan was always the top of his class his whole life, and words like “gifted” were thrown around. Lately, however, things have been harder to keep up with and pay attention to, and it’s a bit of a mess.

Logan joined the writing club because he thought it might help him with English class, and he did like speculative fiction.

But, more importantly, he joined it because he thought it would be a simple task he could easily ace, so he wouldn’t have to keep being told that he wasn’t trying.

Logan’s Sides, ranked in order of how much control they have:

Mimir, his logical side. Mimir is pushing himself to take care of all academic matters and keep Logan afloat.

Mimir is over his head, but doesn’t really have anyone to talk to (or so he thinks), so he’s just putting Warby Parkers over his panic and faking cold distance to make everyone think he’s doing okay.

Alastor, his moral side. Half of his job is repressing Logan’s emotions, which isn’t a great thing to be doing, but he think he’s doing it for a good reason.

Kinda strict and blaming Mimir for everything going wrong. He does care about the others, he’s just bad at showing it.

Cassandros, his fears and anxious thoughts.

This dude-

He’s basically just [puts feet on coffee table] “Hey, did you know everyone hates us?? I made a PowerPoint that proves it!”

He’ll get character development, though.

The Chessmaster, his overdramatic self-preservation.

Tries to be clever, walks into walls.

The Detective, his creative and fanciful side. He wants to swashbuckle, but instead he’s restrained to geometry.

But now he has a project in the writing club! He has something to do!

And The Mad Scientist is trying to ruin it!

The Mad Scientist, Logan’s dark creativity.

They never used to care about the creative side one way or another. There was no need to make a dark side when it was already looked down upon.

Now, however, there are things in Logan’s mind that he’s trying not to think about, and so the Mad Scientist has joined the fray.

The Actual Plot

This is going to be an actual fic that I write. So, I’m not going to fill out the entire plot here.

I can, however say a few of the plot lines

Plot One: Everyone’s sides are in a state of constant screaming and must learn to communicate.

They also need to let their main guys figure out they have soulmates, because they’re all repressing that information for their own reasons.

Plot Two: LAMP in a writing club, falling in love and being disturbed by first drafts!

Plot Three: The fae are kidnapping people.

And everyone needs to get them to Stop.

I guess you could call this a trailer??

I JUST REALLY LIKE THIS IDEA

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admutual · 5 years

Note

Do you have any headcanons for the members of B12?

i do have a few, but most of them are mostly just random facts i thought were fitting rather than actual lore rip.

b2 / georgie-

he’s always making those types of tiktoks roleplaying the viewer’s s/o…… and the poor guy gets bullied in the comments a lot.

also the type who pretends to be all suave and charming, but once he actually has a crush, he can’t talk to them to save his life.

went through a goth phase in middle school, i don’t make the rules.

learned to play acoustic guitar, and he reaaally wants to learn to play bass.

steve def had a little crush on him for a while.

b4 / tj-

probably the most chill out of the group. he’s just there to Vibe.

he’s a Gamer Bro. Bro he is gaming.

he also really likes to rollerblade in his free time, that’s probably one of his main hobbies second to singing.

honestly doesn’t show his emotions much. no one in the group could ever really tell how he was feeling because he just . never let them know.

he’s always wearing mismatched clothes. hawaiian shirts coupled with goth skinny jeans, and a jean jacket, and it drives everyone crazy how out-of-place it all looks.

b5 / parker-

Soft Nature Boi. he pretty much exists to give people random facts about animals at the first invite.

really artsy too, he always liked decorating the walls of his room with his own art growing up.

he had nicknames for every single member. he never referred to any of them by their actual names, just nicknames he spun up.

super close with his mom, and they’d often go on berrypicking trips together.

in general just a really bright gentle sunshine boy.

b8 / victor-

they’re a nonbinary trans guy who, by the time of this ep, hasn’t completely figured themselves out yet.

Loud Jock. they kicked ass in basketball.

also the type who just . makes friends with everyone. everyone in the group came to the agreement on the first day that victor rocks.

loves to read in their free time, they’re always cycling between books every week, and they’re a bit of a writer when they want to be.

secretly a metalhead and no one in the group finds out until after their breakup.

b9 / abraham-

really quiet and shy. took a good while to open up to the other members, but i imagine he made good friends with them.

nearsighted, but hasn’t had his eyes checked yet to get glasses prescribed so he just Suffers.

likes to stitch and knit, and he’s trying to learn how to design stuffed animals and dolls.

also lowkey wants to act, but hasn’t really applied himself yet.

doesn’t seem like it, but he really likes high action movies. those are the only movies that can keep his attention.

b10 / boris-

big sports guy tbh. he was the type of guy to take gym class way too seriously.

his fave sport’s football, which ironically he absolutely sucks at.

he lowkey has a friendly rivalry with victor due to both of them being sports nuts, but victor beats him in nearly every challenge.

he’s always wearing tank tops and basketball shorts no matter how cold it is.

has no sense of personal space, i think he was the most touchy-feely out of all the members.

b11 / abraham h-

really introverted and doesn’t like spending much time around others. he made an exception for the band as he got closer to them, but even then he still needs his space sometimes.

in general has a habit of scaring people off on accident because of Resting Bitch Face.

has a habit of swearing every other god damn sentence.

plays the flute in his band class, but everyone in the group refuses to believe it.

actually a really great writer, he’s always writing short stories for himself.

b12 / constantine-

he’s a trans boy.

gives himself his own haircuts, whether they turn out fine is a 50/50 chance.

loves rainy days, and his fave activity when he was younger was to go outside after it rains to seek out the worms chilling on the sidewalk.

really likes bugs and spiders,, he took over responsibility of handling stray spiders and moving them outside in his house.

also a big fan of monsters and cryptids, and he loves horror movies.

always wearing Lazy comfortable clothes, like big sweaters and hoodies.

also ,,, i like to imagine they’re all still pretty good friends. they don’t tend to meet up as a complete group anymore, but they still keep in touch.

someday i’ll come up with actual backstories for them.

#salvadorethefox #asks

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: The Elephant in the Room ch.3 (baon)

Summary: Jeff has started working at the Embassy. He’s got a new job, a new car, and a new place to live. Now if only the rest of his life could fall into order, that’d be great. Any time now…any time at all…

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Prejudice Against Monsters, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Past Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues, Friendship

Notes: Red, you little cryptid, why can’t you ever let anything be easy? Then again, if Jeff was hoping for things to be straightforward, he picked the wrong brother.

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was worth the long sit-down in the kid’s office, twiddling his thumbs in the dark as Red waited for the door to open. Worth it for that one moment to see Andy have to bite back a scream when he saw Red at his desk. Give the kid credit though, he didn’t piss himself, which had been known to happen. That was always funny as shit, but kinda annoying, because then Red had to wait around for whoever to change their pants. He was busy, for fuck’s sake, and there were plenty of other places he needed to lurk. Tell the truth, he’d been a little surprised to hear the kid was looking for him. Surprised and frankly intrigued. Andy’d only been working at the Embassy for a week, how much trouble could he have stumbled across already? And it was definitely trouble, no two shakes about it. No one came looking for Red because they wanted to share a kit kat, such a fucking pity. Jeff was still standing in the doorway, doorknob in hand, staring at Red like maybe he was expecting a pit to hell to open up beneath him and swallow him back down. Could happen someday, Red supposed, but today was not that day and he was gettin’ bored of waiting. “you can come in,” Red said magnanimously, gesturing him inside. “whatever diseases i got don’t transfer.” His grin widened as Jeff sat in the visitor’s chair rather than drop-kicking him out of the desk like his bro would’ve. Nervously little twerp, wasn’t he. But Red wasn’t much fooled by that; he’d seen Andy boy step up for the people he cared about, more than once. Kid had a soft soul, for sure, but a good one. Like Papyrus. Like Blue. This world could use a coupla those and it was up to souls like Red’s to keep the world from fucking them over. One more dinky scar on his was nothin’, but if Red had his way, Jeff’s was never gonna need so much as a band-aid.

Fucking liabilities. “Hi, um, it’s just,” Jeff stammered a bit and Red only looked at him, let him wriggle a little longer on the hook. He kept his approval under wraps when Jeff took a few breaths, calming himself, and said, “Earlier today, Stretch and I were downtown.” “uh huh,” Red slouched back in the chair, let his eye lights roll back. Looked like he was reading a teleprompter off the ceiling, but the truth was, Red kept all his info in the safest place Above or Below ground, all filed away neat and tidy in his own skull. “classic books, owned by thomas meyer, immigrated in 1965 with his folks. his pop owned the bookstore and thomas took it over a while back. does okay, the rare book gig helps keep him afloat. did even better when monsters popped up, they love books and ain’t so tied to amazon.” “What?” Jeff blinked at him in a mixture of surprise and awe, “I didn’t know any of that.” He looked a little too damn impressed by a little googling and a lot of patience, and fuck if this kid didn’t pick some bad role models. Shit on a shingle, if Red had a windowless van, Jeff would probably be climbing on in it hoping for some free damn ice cream, no self-preservation at all. His bro sure knew how to pick a liability, this kid was something else. “i know plenty,” Red tapped his gold tooth with one sharp-tipped finger. “so what about it? gimmie some news i can’t get from the paper.” “Well, it’s just that Thomas hired someone to replace me and he’s very…uncomfortable around Monsters.” Jeff was leaning forward, bracing his hands on the desk and probably didn’t even realize it. He looked like the lead detective in an eighties movie as he asked, “Why would someone who doesn’t like Monsters want to work somewhere that is friendly to them? Thomas even has one of those ‘Monsters Welcome’ stickers on his front door.” Wellie well well, now this was interesting. Course, Red already knew what the kid was talking about. Steven Baker, recent graduate of Ebott University. Garden-variety xenophobe, didn’t have any special plans scuttled away on his laptop or some raggedy notebook plastered with MAG stickers. He just needed a job and chose poorly, was all. Some people didn't adjust to Monsters too well and that was fine; Red pretty much didn't want those fuckers around anyway and so long as they stuck to the other side of town, wasn’t much his concern. But the ‘book haus’ reject, eh, that was all dull shit; Red had a lockdown on that info three days ago before that little fucker ever stepped behind the register. What was interestin’ him now was Andy. Here the kid was, bubbling with suspicions like a junior detective, and who did he Scooby Doo to? Not Edge, not Stretch, not even his boytoy. No, he brought that info right to Red, didn’t he, like a cat with a dead bird, eager to show off his prize. Yeah, Red was liking this. Aloud, Red said, “i know all about steve, did a background check when tommy boy hired him. we monitor all the businesses that have the official stickers.” “Oh,” Jeff slumped back into his chair and Red couldn’t help but be amused. Kid looked like he’d unmasked the bad guy and found that it was Old Man Jenkins again. He didn’t stay down though, sat up straight again and asked, “You monitor all the businesses? Why?” Curiosity, good, and even if Andy ain’t exactly ready to share friendship bracelets with Red, he wasn’t letting his nervousness keep him from asking. Red grudgingly pulled his estimation of the kid up another notch. “two reasons.” Red held up two bony fingers then folded one down. “one, to make sure they aren’t getting harassed and feel they need to take it down. monster-friendly business won’t stay that way if they’re afraid to go to their cars at night.” He folded down the second finger. “and two, to make sure they mean it. ‘bout the last thing i ever want to happen is some monster and their kiddies heading into a place expecting a warm welcome and instead leaving in a paper bag.” Jeff nodded slowly, cringing a little at the Red’s description. “Makes sense. I should’ve known you were already on it, guess I was being paranoid.” “no such thing,” Red countered. And wasn’t that a swig of sugar-syrup, the kid had faith in him. "you were right, it is off. that’s good instincts, kid. we’ll be keeping tabs on stevie, don’t you worry, make sure he stays on the right side of the line. you, now, you come tell me anytime you see something or someone who seems off, yeah? anytime. thinking you’re overreacting is how people get hurt, and some people in our company can’t take much of a hit, you get me?” “Yeah, I do,” Jeff said determinedly. Andy had some spine to him in there beneath all the meat. That was the fella who’d decked a stranger on the bus for harassing a Monster, yep. The door opening made him tense, but it was only Antwan, peering in through the crack. He pushed the door open further and stepped inside, “Hey, security said you were here.” Watching the kid light up when he caught sight of Antwan was gag-worthy, but Red managed to choke it down. Being around his bro, the honey bun, and their fucking PDA had helped him build up a tolerance. “Hi, yeah,” Jeff said, “Red and I were talking.” “yep," Red agreed. He wagged his foot lazily where it was propped on the desk. "we’re about done now. thanks for stopping by, sweetheart. see you around.” “Okay,” Jeff said easily, like this wasn’t his office, heh. Kid was a little too easy-going, but that could be fixed with a judicious amount of assholery. Or maybe he was still too distracted by his boytoy, to care because he was all hopeful eyes and sweet-talk when he asked Antwan, “See you tonight?” “Yeah, I’ll meet you at Blue’s,” Antwan said, distractedly. He was pretty busy trying to glare a hole into Red, not an uncommon reaction but not one he was used to from Antwan. His drinking buddy about had steam coming out of his ears and didn’t notice that Jeff’s smile faltered, fading out as he mumbled an agreement and left. Curiouser and curiouser, as some brat once said. “What the fuck are you up to?” Antwan asked bluntly, the second the door swung shut. “dunno what you mean,” Red went through his mental list of annoying vocal tones and went with breezy on this one, but truth was, he really didn’t. And he didn’t like that, not one fucking bit, he liked a clear idear of what was going on around him at all times, and if Antwan had a bug up his ass, Red wanted to know why it crawled up there and what kinda nest it was making. From Antwan’s glare, that bug was pretty far up there. “I mean, why are you calling my boyfriend pet names?” To have that piece of puzzle snap in so easily, Red almost busted out laughing. That was what had Antwan’s panties in a wad? “eh, i do that with everyone,” Red said lazily. He licked his teeth deliberately, running his tongue over each and every point as he enjoyed the rising fury in Antwan’s eyes. “aww, honey, what makes you think i’m interested in your personal meat bag?” “The knowledge that you fucked your way through Europe the last time you went traveling with the diplomats?” Antwan snapped. “I heard plenty about that!" “maybe i had some fun,” Red allowed, and gave him a wolfish grin. Unless Antwan was chatting it up with Sans, he hadn’t even heard the half of it. “dunno, i don’t see your name on andy boy. not a ring or maybe a pretty little collar. gotta say, that might be a good look for him—“ “Stop,” Antwan said, through gritted teeth. Pretty impressive the way wrenched himself back, all that hot anger dropping down the thermometer to icy calm. “Your brother is my best friend, he wouldn’t like it if we killed each other.” Red snorted. This was fun and all, but a slap upside the head with a little realism was probably due. “cute that you think there is any ‘other’ about it. dunno, doesn’t sound like you trust your boy.” “What?” Antwan looked pretty taken aback by that, which was a fine, fine thing. Cause if there was a chance this entertaining lil’ tantrum was about Antwan thinking Jeff was trying to get a late afternoon bone-on, he and Antwan were about to talk real close up, make no mistake about that. Jeff wasn't a cheat, Red had a little file tucked away in the back of his head with plenty of data proving that.

Antwan didn't seem to notice, he only snapped out, "This isn’t about him, it’s about you. I know you too damn well. Leave him alone.” Well, this a slice of something different. He’d never much had anyone worried he was gonna seduce their honey away. Refreshing change, that. Sans was gonna laugh his ass off. “not much of a threat there.” Antwan’s smile was coldly humorless, whew, bet that went over real well in court, probably had a more’n few defendants pissing themselves. “No threats. I know better than to give you advance warning.” “better," Red let his grin widen, licked his teeth again deliberately, "could always make it a threesome.” Now that was a hell of a look. That was fifty shades of no, such a shame. Antwan only sputtered out, “I…what? No!” "pity," Red sighed. He kicked off of the desk and stood, groaning as he stretched with bone-popping force. "cool your jets, i ain’t trying anything with your boy, he had a security issue was all. ask him, he’ll tell ya. now that we've established that i’m not trying to poach, hit bricks.” Antwan only stared at him, visibly fuming, oh, yeah, he was plenty pissed, looked like he was trying to chew off his damn tongue. But Red was done playing nicey-nice for the day and it looked like Antwan was keeping cosplay as the fool aside for Andy. He turned on his heel, ready to storm back out the way he came and it was probably gonna lose him his drinking buddy, at least for a while, but Red couldn't help adding, sing-song sweet, "not trying yet, anyway." The door slamming told Red everything he needed to know about that. Red shook his head, started to pull out a cigar. He'd wait to light it when he got outside, no reason to stink up the kid's office, especially without his bro here to bitch and moan about it. Oh yeah, those two were meant to be. Just like the boss and Stretch, it was almost like a fucking aura around 'em, and Red didn't do Judgements anymore, but he'd never given up Seeing. He was never one to let a gift go to waste and he'd known fucking ages before his bro that he was meant to be with the honey bun. And just like those idiots, these two might need a little nudge in the right direction. That was fine. Red was pretty good when push came to shove.

~~*~~

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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dontcallmecarrie · 5 years

Note

Oh goodie! *no sarcasm* A "By Myself But Not Alone" snippet! Yay! Again, genuinely no sarcasm. (I'm working on my communication skills and trying to make sure people know I'm not being sarcastic when it potentially could be seen that way.) Love your work. Have an awesome day!

#relatable on the communication front, friend. And I’m glad you’re enjoying the AU— I get the feeling it’s more of a ‘snapshot here, snapshot there’ sort of thing than what I normally go for.

…and it’s happening again. Sorry not sorry:

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I hereby call this meeting to order.” Fury said, voice ringing out over the din in the relatively-cramped room.

“What are we calling it anyway? Time Travelers Anonymous?” Clint asked conversationally as it died down, only to straighten up at the Deputy Director’s quelling glare.

“People, this is serious. Chatter’s picking up on the Winter Soldier being active again, and we all know what it means.” Fury continued, and now everyone snapped to attention.

“Wait, we’re sure it’s him?” Natasha cast a glance at him, and he nodded soberly.

“His reputation can’t be anyone else, unless anyone knows another idiot with a metal arm who’s been running around off and on for the past few decades.”

“Damn.” Clint whistled lowly. “Why hasn’t this come up before?”

“He’s equal parts urban legend and cryptid.” Fury snorted. “Only shows up once in a blue moon, and he’s as camera-shy as ever.”

Natasha leaned in with a slight frown. “But we’re sure it’s him, and not…”

Hill rifled though her notes, and spread them out on the table, talking as she went. “His appearances fit with the timeline I’ve compiled, almost on the dot. But the effects are different— see here, with the Chilean elections? We thought he was the shooter for one, back home, but here the vic reported a masked man saved his life. And it’s not the only case, either.”

“You did that just by memory?” Clint sounded impressed. “And here I can barely remember what I had for lunch last week.”

“So I’m assuming we’re bringing him in?” Natasha asked, not looking away from the last data point. “Or are we trying to get word out some other way?”

“That’s what we’re here for.” Fury replied, and Clint gave him a sharp glance.

“You mean we might not?”

“By all rights, he’s the first one to show up and try to micromanage the timeline.” Fury shrugged. “I’d say that’s enough to cut him some slack, don’t you?”

“But—”

“If it is him, he’s been doing well enough by himself. If he wanted to reach out, he could’ve left a message— but he didn’t.”

“Because he doesn’t think he’s not alone!” Clint retorted, and Hill held her hand up, expression darkening slightly.

“Evidence points otherwise.” She said simply, then turned towards Fury with a slightly questioning look.

He nodded at her, then addressed the rest of them. “We’ve been monitoring Steve’s crash site. Absolutely nothing’s been touched, and given the rest of the evidence? Barnes could’ve gone there, could’ve recovered him. He just chose…not to.”

Clint blinked, at that, even as Natasha’s expression cleared up. “Why?”

“Because he didn’t want to.” Phil Coulson cut in from his corner of the room, looking at them over his steepled fingers. “Because he didn’t want to prevent some people from being born. Like Wilson. Or Tony. Or T’Challa’s younger sister, who I heard he was friends with, or the Spider-Man who sounded really, really young, or…”

He trailed off, but everyone knew was thinking it.

They were all so, so glad to be alive— but there’d been so, so many they’d somehow left behind, in their home reality. People who they had yet to meet, people who hadn’t even been born, and every time they noticed or caused another change in this world, it was accompanied by a niggling tendril of fear that this was it, this would be the butterfly that would trigger a hurricane that would seal their fate.

It hadn’t happened [yet]. But it was the reason they’d started the meetings in the first place, such as the hours-long argument they’d had discussing the pros and cons of not recovering Steve ahead of schedule, or the one on the fate of Obadiah Stane, or the problem that was Howard Stark.

Sometimes, this strange new world felt like a little piece of heaven. Where SHIELD and HYDRA were sworn enemies, old friends were still alive and well, and a surreal lightness that even now felt too good to be true.

It was…even though there were a lot of new unknowns to contend with, for good or bad, there was still a fragile sort of hope in the air their own home had lost sometime after New York.

And they would all fight tooth and nail to protect it.

#I got an ask!#Naught replies #replies #Naught rambles #By Myself But Not Alone #behind the scenes mini fic #My writing #My fic

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harringrovecryptid · 6 years

Text

The Party Looks for Mothman

This was requested by @dead-night-harringrove

Thank you for voting!

“This is so dumb.”

“Shh!”

“Henderson if you shush me one more time I swear to God I'm leaving you in the woods.”

“I just caught you threatening to abandon me, an innocent impressionable child, in the middle of nowhere on camera!” Dustin pointed his video camera in Billy's face.

“Good then you probably also recorded what an annoying ass you've been all day!”

Steve tried to tune out the sound of Billy and Dustin arguing. He had bigger things to worry about. Like keeping Dustin and all his dorky little friends alive the rest of the night.

“Fun camping trip my ass.” Steve mumbled to himself as he dug around inside his backpack.

They were supposed to spend a quiet weekend out of Hawkins to help the kids unwind. To forget the Upside Down and all the horror’s they’d experienced the past few years.

Steve knew he should have been more suspicious when Dustin was adamant about camping in West Virginia.

“Uh, Steve?” Will spoke softly as he stood patiently next to his would-be guardian. “We are okay though, right?”

Steve looked up to meet Will’s eyes and-- Oh god Will. He was the smallest in their group and therefore the easiest to lose. Hell, judging by Steve’s luck the kid’d probably get snatched up by an owl or something.

God he hated camping without an adult.

Steve smiled broadly, hoping Will wouldn’t notice the effort it took. “We’re fine. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about joining us.”

The kids had been divided on how they wanted to spend their summer. Dustin and Lucas wanted to go camping, while El and Max wanted to visit the coast. Apparently Max had been telling her all about the sand and the ocean.

So when a compromise (or as El liked to call it, a halfway happy answer) couldn’t be found, Hopper suggested they do both. Naturally Mike went with El, Max, and Hopper. Which left Steve to take the boys and whoever else wanted to join on a camping trip.

Will thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m good.”

Truth be told Steve was a little surprised Will chose the woods over a beach. The poor kid didn’t have a great track record when it came to this kind of setting.

Billy was also a surprise, albeit a welcome one. And Steve had a sneaking suspicion that he made Will feel safer somehow. That quiet, unspoken ‘I’m okay, so you’ll be okay’ understanding that Will didn’t seem to have with anyone else, even Jonathan.

“Both of you shut up!” Lucas snapped, jumping down from a tree. The action make Steve gasp in horror even as Lucas landed safely on the ground. It’s so dark and he could have twisted his ankle…

Lucas didn’t seem to notice the effect his action had on Steve. He was too busy arguing with Dustin. “Mothman uses both sound and thermo-vision. It doesn’t matter what noise you guys make if he can see us from a mile off.”

Dustin and Billy squinted at Lucas through the beams of their flashlights.

“You just made that up.” Dustin said, aligning himself closer to Billy, who in turn rolled his eyes.

“All of this is made up.”

Dustin was back at Lucas’ side again, glaring through his camera at Billy. “Oh so you can believe in monsters from an opposite dimension but you refuse to believe in Mothman?”

Billy shrugged. “You gotta draw the line somewhere.”

“Here we go!” Steve shouted triumphantly, pulling out a long line of rock-climbing rope.

“Now,” Steve began tying the rope around each boy’s waist, “none of us are getting separated tonight.”

Dustin looked around the woods. “But what if we find the Mothman and have to run away real fast?”

Steve paused on his way to attach the rope to Billy. Finally he turned to Dustin and shrugged. “If we find Mothman then we’ve got bigger problems than just rope.”

The three boys then began to quietly discuss their best course of action once they found the stupid cryptid. Steve shook his head and began wrapping the rope around Billy.

“I thought we were saving the kinky stuff for later.” Billy’s voice had a flirtatious tone to it even in the dark, and Steve was sure his lover’s tongue was sticking out of his mouth with a cheeky smile.

Reaching out to where Steve imagined Billy’s face was, he playfully shoved Billy’s mouth shut. “Can you please take this a little more seriously?”

“Babe, we’re in the middle of West Virginia. What could possibly go wrong?”

Three Hours Later

Steve knew Billy was strong. But not ‘dragging a daisy chain of teenage boys through a forest’ strong.

Apparently an adrenaline rush and strong will to live can be one hell of a motivator.

“Ohmygod Ohmygod Ohmygod!” Dustin kept screaming with each stride and leap they made through the forest.

It was a wonder they hadn't gotten tangled around a tree yet.

“Did anyone else see it's teeth?” Lucas called out.

No one had any extra oxygen to spare to discuss what they did or did not see. Steve was personally way too distracted by the creature's giant red eyes to consider looking at anything else.

Eventually their luck ran out, and Lucas ran left when Billy ran right, causing their party to clothesline around a tall pine.

If Steve hadn't just face planted into the forest floor, he would have complained about the bruises the rope definitely caused.

There was a long silence as everyone caught their breath. Billy and Steve kept looking between each other and the sky, afraid that whatever they were running from was still in pursuit.

“Is everyone okay?” Steve finally panted out. “Will?”

Will was hunched over on his hands and knees, fingers gripping fistfuls of damp earth. He hadn't spoken since they first started running, and it was dawning on Steve just now how traumatic this whole thing might have been.

He reached out and placed a hand on Will's back. “Will, are you okay?”

“That. Was. Awesome.” Will said between gasps for air.

“Really?” Steve stared in confusion at Billy before looking back to Will.

“Are you kidding? That was my first encounter with a monster that ended with me being okay.” Will sat up and winces, grappling at the rope that was still tightly pulled around his waist. “Almost okay.”

“Well I'm not okay.” Dustin whined. “The camera broke when we fell.”

He held up the flattened and cracked remains of his camcorder.

“Are you serious dude?” Lucas shoved Dustin. “We almost got eaten by the Mothman and you're complaining about your camera?”

“But now no one'll believe us! Besides, it wasn't going to eat us.”

Lucas threw up his hands. “Here we go again. What is it with you and thinking monsters are harmless?”

Lucas and Dustin began arguing about Dart and Dustin's completely “scientific” and “rational” need to collect weird animals, eventually dragging Will into the midst as a mediator.

While they were busy, Billy untied himself and crawled over to where Steve was sitting against a tree. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Steve whispered back, intertwining their hands together in his lap.

Billy squeezed Steve’s hand and leaned in closer to get a better look at his boyfriend. “You okay?”

Steve gave a breathless laugh before shaking his head. “We just saw a fucking Mothman Billy. How do you think I’m doing?”

Billy shrugged and gave his boyfriend a quick peck on the cheek when he was sure the kids weren’t looking.

They didn’t seem to mind their relationship after Steve convinced them to give Billy a second chance, but kids still get a little icky about romantic gestures regardless of gender.

“To be honest,” Billy whispered into Steve’s ear, “I’m not convinced it wasn’t just a big bird.”

Steve half-considered just tying Billy up against a tree and leaving his ass in the woods, but the drive back to Hawkins was a long one. And aside from the convenience of having a second driver, Steve was beginning to think he wanted Billy by his side for as long as life allowed.

#harringrove #voting drabble rewards #my stuff #My writing

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itsmajel · 6 years

Text

Majel Reads - May 2018

Captain America / Marvel CMU - Stucky

[What is this?]

Something. Anything. by mambo ( @whtaft)

-- MAJOR INFINITY WAR SPOILERS. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. --

“Guess I can take his gun,” says the talking raccoon that came with Thor as he approaches Steve. Steve looks up; somehow, the raccoon looks sad. “Groot disappeared, too,” he explains, and doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t have to.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 732 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

That Takes The Cake by mambo ( @whtaft)

“We have fifty boxes of cake mix and you needed to be here three hours ago.”

“What’s the address!” Steve manages, grabbing a pencil and paper from next to him. The voice rattles off an address, which Steve barely gets down, then hangs up abruptly.

Steve probably shouldn’t go.

Steve puts on some pants and goes anyway.

[Not Rated] [ 646 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

how am I supposed to pretend I never want to see you again? by mambo ( @whtaft)

Professor Steve Rogers sleeps with a guy he meets an airport bar and walks away regretting that he'll never see him again.

Until he sees him two nights later.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 1,548 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Uncertainty of the Law by mambo ( @whtaft)

Steve didn't expect to fall in love with the lawyer looking at his painting.

But he did.

[Mature] [ 26,892 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

if only you could see me (for the pie that i am) by bitelikefire (theoleo) ( @deimosluna )

In which Steve is the proud owner of Frost; a semi famous local bakery in D.C. And despite the overwhelming insistence that it’s about time he start dating, Steve swears up and down he isn’t ready for that. Or as of recently, just doesn’t have the time because of Mr. Barnes. The highly demanding wedding planner on the phone who keeps asking for nearly impossible deliveries and maybe Steve would like to personally strangle him. Maybe.

(There is pie. And misunderstandings. But a lot more desserts and eye rolls.)

Part 1 of if only you could see me

[Teen And Up Audiences] [ 35,115 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

We Are Salmon in the Stream After Years At Sea by littleblackfox ( @thelittleblackfox)

Steve sighs. “This creepy looking hobo cornered me in the store, spouting some shit about congress with an abomination.”

Bucky bares his teeth. All of them. Even Steve finds it unsettling. “I will devour him.”

“No!” Steve waves a finger under Bucky’s nose. “No eating people, remember.”

“Rule number one,” Bucky grumbles. “No eating humans, or human-like things.” He gives Steve a sullen glare. “I will rend his foul tongue from his worthless form.”

“Well, so long as you don’t eat it afterwards.”

Part 2 of Lovecraft in Brooklyn

[Explicit] [ 18,218 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

War Paint by littleblackfox ( @thelittleblackfox)

“So what do they…” The ferret licks his thumb. “What do they do?” “Sleep, mostly, with the odd bit of mayhem.”

[General Audiences] [ 2,024 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Salt by littleblackfox ( @thelittleblackfox)

The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination. “Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue. “You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks. Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?” “Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”

[Mature] [12,059 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Bleached Bones and Fallen Snow by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) ( @leveragehunters)

When he chose to become Death he wasn't sure exactly what it would mean. He didn't realise he'd end up leaving humanity behind completely, forgetting all the ways he used to be human.

Forgetting, that was, until in the middle of a war, his power spreading itself like wings over the battlefields, he discovered one particular human it was impossible to stay away from. Brave, fascinating, irresistible: again and again, he kept coming back to Bucky. Bucky, who was never afraid of him, who seemed content to walk in Death's shadow.

If he'd known where it would lead him, where it would lead both of them, he would have tried harder to resist.

(A First Avenger/ Winter Soldier AU where Steve is Death.)

[Teen And Up Audiences] [16,633 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

And the Greatest of These by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) ( @leveragehunters)

*** INFINITY WAR SPOILERS ***

Even if someone seems dead, that doesn't mean they are. If it takes Death's intervention before that's believed, then that's what it takes, even if Death has to slip between worlds to do it.

(This is a sequel to Bleached Bones and Fallen Snow. I tried to keep the summary as vague as possible to avoid specific spoilers)

[Teen And Up Audiences] [1,823 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Outfoxing Fate by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) ( @leveragehunters)

Bucky falls, he always falls, Steve can’t save him, but before the enemy can find him, something else finds him first.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [1,495 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Not Egg-sactly What You Wished For by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen) ( @leveragehunters)

"How did you end up with a dragon?" Bucky asked, but he was already kneeling beside Steve, touching gentle fingers to the dragon's side, the glow of golden magic washing over the red-tinted scales as it tried to fix what was broken. The dragon sighed with relief, lying less like an overcooked noodle in Steve's arms.

"It just appeared at the window."

"And you let her in?"

"Her?"

"Her," Bucky confirmed.

"Yeah, Bucky. She needed help. I wasn't gonna leave her out there."

Suddenly the dragon heaved herself over, long neck curved, sides rippling, red intensifying until it was almost glowing, there was a moment of strain, the dragon's body tense as steel cable, and then there was an egg in Steve's lap.

Part 5 of If Wishing Made It So

[Teen And Up Audiences] [2,879 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Wakandan Interlude by Avaaricious ( @fannishflightsoffancy )

Each day had a different goal, but the same over-reaching purpose: To keep his routine, learn how to belong, how to give back. To live as best he could. To love as best he could.

Set in the space between Bucky's defrosting in Wakanda and his entrance in Infinity War.

[General Audiences] [1,946 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Shore Leave by Brenda ( @brendaonao3 )

When Nat insists Team!Nomad needs a break from the road, Steve heads to Wakanda, and the only home that matters.

[Mature] [4,557 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Targeting by queenmab_scherzo ( @queenmabscherzo )

Steve and Bucky end up playing for rival college football teams.

Part 1 of In the Deed the Glory

[Explicit] [149,144 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

tutorial by belovedmuerto ( @belovedmuerto)

“I’m pretty sure I’m a terrible kisser,” Steve mutters, mostly to his pencil and paper.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [2,362 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

The Devil's Acre by littleblackfox ( @thelittleblackfox)

“I’m sorry, you want me to what?” Steve sits back in his chair and tries not to glare at Hill across the conference table. “Track down a cryptid.” Agent Hill repeats, tossing a dossier onto the table. Steve has to stretch out an arm to reach across for it. “A cryptid,” Steve repeats doubtfully.

[Explicit] [40,636 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

I'll hold my breath by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) ( @little-lottie)

Sometimes Bucky’s hands flex in Steve's direction. Neither of them knows exactly why, but at least one of them has a hunch.

Bucky touches everything but Steve, even though Steve is all he really wants to touch.

[Mature] [8,794 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

The artist and his coffee shop muse by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) ( @little-lottie)

“Umm…” Steve glances up to find the waiter standing there with a smirk and a raised eyebrow looking expectant and arguably more delicious than the pastry. “I didn’t order this." “No,” the man says through a huff of laughter. “But technically, you didn’t order the coffee either.”

"Huh?"

Opposite him, the man slides into the booth, light bouncing off his shirt and drenching his eyes with even more blue.

Steve’s eyes dart left and right, looking for whatever it is he’s missed.

[Teen And Up Audiences] [3,622 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Blame the fluffy wolf onesie by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) ( @little-lottie)

“Is that a…” Steve continues slowly, blinking as though he must be seeing things “…a onesie?”

The book’s covering half of Bucky’s face but it does nothing to muffle his amused snigger. Steve’s brow is furrowed in adorably intense confusion, and he actually sounds offended by the whole situation.

Bucky lets Steve see his smirk, because it is indeed, a onesie. And Bucky is positively wrapped up in the thing, fingers curling fondly around the cuffs to relish the softness.

For the prompt: Bucky in a onesie and fluffy fluff with a side of smut

[Mature] [1,846 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

Scars where all my sins bled by Little_Lottie (tfwatson) ( @little-lottie)

An Underworld movie AU

Two hundred and six years ago to the day, Bucky became a vampire. Fuelled by vengeance, he has become his coven’s greatest weapon in the immortal war against the lycans.

Following an anonymous tip, Bucky saves Steve Rogers for the sake of his coven, and maybe for reasons he refuses to examine too closely. But then Steve is bitten and now they stand on opposite sides of an unending blood feud.

There isn't a world for a lycan and a vampire, but somewhere between a subway station and a safe house, a Black Widow bite and the rising tide of lost memories, Bucky finds himself doubting everything he thought he knew - including that age-old rule about never falling in love with a werewolf.

[Explicit] [ 97,171 Words] [Read on AO3 here]

- - - - - - - - - -

( All summaries are the official summaries of the author. Stats and infos as according to hosting site or information given by the author. If any of the authors that have been tagged don’t want to be tagged, or if any of you know the tumblr names of the ones I haven’t tagged please let me know!)

Looking for more reading inspiration? Check out my fic rec tag here on tumblr, this month reading list masterpost for what I’ve read in other fandoms this month, my all-time reading list masterpost for more of this fandom or just check out my AO3 bookmarks.

#fic rec #rec list #stucky #marvel mcu #mcu #majel reads #reading list #may 2018 #captain america #james bucky barnes/steve rogers

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ori-ohs-and-shame · 7 years

Text

A cryptid? In my tree? It’s more likely than you’d expect.

(a fanfic of @rileyomalley ‘s cryptid solutions, in which i fail to understand how people converse and how American housing works. Enjoy!)

Fic below the cut

She heard a bump.

“Ugh,” what was that? Sounded big, she thought, probably should go and check it out. Rubbing sleep out of her eyes, she got out of bed, dragging herself to her wardrobe. She grabbed a pullover and a pair of pants, lazily wearing it over her pajamas. She probably wouldn't need it, but being in the cold sucked, even if it was only for a moment.

She trudged out of her house, putting on a puffy winter coat. What could've made that noise? Stomping through the 5-ish centimeter thick snow, she walked around the house and squinted to see what had happened, if anything had happened. All she could see in the chilly winter night was the old tree that was in her backyard. Wait, isn't the tree kinda funny? She fumbled for her cell and pulled it out, turning on the flashlight function. The tree branches looked kinda dark…

Oh.

Is that…

Her pupils shrank as her eyes widened at the sight.Two beams of red shone into her face,

in between a pair of big black wings that were tangled in the barren branches of the tree, feathers strewn about the white snow. Her stomach constricted as her heart threatened to leap out of her body, making her open her mouth to scream. However, her mouth seemed to dry up as she opened it, with only a choked gasp escaping.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. It was stuck, and it can't hurt you. Right? I mean if it could get out it would've done it already. More thoughts raced through her head as she kept looking at the horrifying being.

But all of her thoughts ceased as it spoke. A sound came from the being, like a chord that was not quite in tune but not entirely dissonant, from an instrument that could not exist. A dark hand reached out towards her, and claws that seemed to be made from fur beckoned her to come over. She took slow, clumsy steps forward. Her mind was filled with static. A hand extended towards the black mass, gripping a phone. The static grew louder as she drew closer. A surprisingly soft, black grasper enveloped the light shining out of the device, and whisked it away. Then the static stopped.

She fell to the ground, having lost feeling in her legs. She tried to pull herself away from the thing lest that -whatever it was- happened again, but she only managed to slip on the thick layer of snow, now fully lying on the carpet of snow beneath her. The phone’s flashlight shone down on her, like a spotlight on an actress at the end of a play. Is this how I’m gonna die? Well, at least I’ll have a heck of a story to tell if there’s anything on the other side. Wait, was it… dialing a number? Through squinted eyes, she could barely make out the hand holding the phone shifting across the screen, as dial noises started to ring from the cell. The ring of each dial tone was slowly masked by static that was taking over her body, as she slowly drifted into the realm of the unconscious.

Radio static drifted through the air, as several pop songs cut in and out. Eyes lazily drifted open and took in their surroundings. Window, handlebars, seats… the inside of a car? Wasn't she…

She jolted upright, and hit her head on the roof of the car with a resounding thud.

“Ow!” she yelped, grabbing her head.

She heard a voice from the front of the car say, “You okay?” through dull throbs of pain.

“Yeah, I think?” She replied, utterly confused.

“Um, okay. To be honest, this is the first time I’m doing anything like this, so maybe let’s start with introductions? I’m Katie,” the voice from the front said nervously. She didn’t reply straight away, instead electing to look at her… rescuer? From the back of the car, all she could see was long, brown hair tied up in a ponytail, a single green eye and a dainty nose. She then looked around, realising that they were just outside her house. Okay, she was probably safe.

“I’m Erica,” she said, after some hesitation.

“Okay, uh, Erica, you probably have a lot of questions, so just ask away I guess,” she said, grabbing a cup from a cup holder, “I hope you’re not allergic to hot chocolate.”

“Oh, thanks,” Erica said, as she took the cup of hot chocolate that now was lukewarm, probably due to her being passed out for so long.

She took a long sip of the not-so-hot chocolate, organising her thoughts, then said, “Okay. So just explain to me, what happened?”

Katie took a deep breath, then said, “Okay. So basically, Steve called and said that he was stuck in a tree -again- and that someone was passed out cold in front of him. So i hauled ass over here as fast as I could and helped both steve and you out. And now we’re here.”

Erica blinked slowly. “Wait,” she said after processing all of that information, “It’s name is Steve? Isn’t it like, mothman?”

“I mean, not really? Steve is mothman's second cousin, if you count mothman to be the one that was sighted in the famous events,” Katie replied. Erica took another long sip of her drink, brushing aside her blonde hair.

“You know what, I’m too tired for this. Follow me, I’ll make something to eat and then we can keep talking,” Erica said, moving out of the vehicle.

Plates clinked on the table as Erica placed them down. Fidgeting from the long silence had permeated the room since she entered, Katie stared at the plate of bacon and eggs now sitting in front of her, watching Erica dig into hers.

“So… what now?” Katie asked awkwardly, trying to dispel some of the tension. Erica was midway through lifting up a spoonful of egg, and decided to put her utensils down before replying.

“Well, start with telling me how you got mothman’s number, I guess,” she replied, with a tone striking Katie as much more nonchalant than she had expected. She hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question.

“Aren’t you… i don’t know, kinda freaked out right now? I mean you did meet Steve last night,” Katie blurted out. Katie, are you kidding me she thought, regretting her impulsive actions, just answer her question goddammit.

Before Katie could do anything to rectify herself, Erica replied, “I mean, kinda? I don’t know. Probably because i passed out, it kinda feels like a dream? But you’re here and i can feel a rash in my legs from the cold, so i guess it must’ve happened. And honestly, if i were mothman i’d probably do the same thing? I don’t know.”

Katie breathed out audibly, both impressed and bewildered at the same time. “Well, same as you, kinda,” Katie replied, answering Erica’s question, “Mothman, as in the mothman and not Steve, hit my car when I was driving, and I…” She paused mid-sentence, realising how insane her story really was, “…I bandaged his wing.”

“Honestly, I don’t know which is weirder: that you decided to bandage mothman's wing, or that you have bandages in the car,” Erica said, smirking.

“It's good to be prepared,” Katie retorted, “You never know what’s going to happen.”

“I mean, I guess,” Erica replied, shrugging, “ anyways you haven't told me how you got his number.”

After some hesitance, Katie said, “Well, it’s kinda weird but basically I gave him a phone so that he could call when he got stuck again, and eventually I started helping his family out too.”

“Huh, makes you wonder what they’re doing out there.”

“Eating plants, mostly.”

“Really? I always thought that they ate animals, or something.” The conversation went on as the two ate breakfast, talking about cryptids and stories Katie had about saving the mothmen, as she put it, and how she learned to understand them (Erica didn’t really get the explanation, but she just nodded along).

As they ate the last bites of their meal, Erica decided to say what had been on her mind for awhile. “Hey, is it cool if you helped me get a talk with Steve? I’d like to say some things to him.”

“Oh, like what?” Katie said with perked eyebrows, not expecting Erica to want to meet Steve again, “I honestly thought you’d just leave the whole thing alone.”

“Well, yeah, I thought i would too, but now that I got to know more about the mothmen I kinda wanna talk so em some more,” Erica explained.

“I mean, you seem like you do alot for them, and maybe, um, maybe I could help?” She continued sheepishly.

Katie was stunned by her proposal. It was kind of amazing that someone who probably thought they were going to be killed by a mothman just last night suddenly wanted to help them out. But hey, more help means less work. “Sure, if you’re okay with doing all of this… cryptid helpering, or whatever.”

“Sounds like a hotline.”

“Really? To me “Cryptid Solutions” sound more like a hotline than “Cryptid Helpers”. The “Helpers” part makes it seem like a daycare.”

Erica smiled.

“Yeah, it does.”

“Do you have something i can write on, by the way? I gotta give you my number.”

“Yeah,” Erica said as she got out her phone, “just key it in.”

As Katie keyed in her number, she said, “It was nice talking to you, Erica. I don’t really have anyone that i can share this stuff with. Anyways, I should probably get back home soon. Text me so i can tell you about the whole Steve thing.”

“Sure, that sounds good,” Erica said, stretching, “man i’m puckered out. Good thing it’s Saturday.”

“Yeah,” Katie agreed, standing up as she passed Erica her phone back, “you should probably get some rest, I’ll text you in the evening.”

Erica walked Katie out of the house, and said goodbye as she drove away. After closing the door, she instantly undressed down to her pajamas again, and ran straight for her bed. As she drifted off into sleep, she thought to herself, this is gonna get interesting.

#Doom's art journal #cryptid solutions

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