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dunmeshichilchuck · 3 months

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For That One Guy on Tumblr, part 4

Chilchuck x !fem !halffoot reader

You were going to have to be strategic about this. You didn't want to step on Chilchucks toes after all, and you didn't know if there would realistically be work for more than one halffoot. It sounded like Chilchuck was strictly no combat, so maybe you could pick that side of it up? But even if you could convince them of your usefulness, would they be willing to sign a contract to take on a new party member? You frowned, considering.

You heard your name and glanced up. "yes, sorry, what?"

"What do you think you want to do?" Marcille asked. "I'm afraid that I can't cast the leaving spell to get you out of here, it's not my specialty, but maybe we could get you back up to a higher floor? You could find another party and work your way back up."

"....I was actually going to ask if I could travel with your group." You hesitantly explained. "You wouldn't need to pay me or anything, and I don't eat much. I am skilled in my field and I could definitely be a big help to Chilchuck in disarming traps and giving advance warning of threats." You continued on with something that was only half a lie. "I think your group really can take down the mad mage, and I'd like to be a part of that."

You were also pretty good at drawing monsters away or distracting them, or even engaging in combat if necessary. But you figured you'd keep that little tidbit to yourself while you figured out the dynamics of the group. Chilchuck had seemed to be pretty against the idea of halffoots as bait and combat participants, if you really needed to use it as leverage you could, but otherwise it wouldn't be wise to offer services he'd shut down already. After all, alienating the other halffoot in the party could only go badly.

Marcille looked surprised, but before she could say anything, Laois jumped in.

"Yeah! That would be great! Chilchuck you've talked about the difficulty of disarming traps before, if you had a helper wouldn't it be a lot easier? You guys could work in a team! And she's right, halffoots don't eat much."

Chilchuck frowned consideringly. "Hmmm, I usually don't work with others....I guess we could give it a shot but if you get in my way and aren't helpful you'll have to stand back with the rest of the party. I'm good at my job and I don't need anyone jumping in trying to help and fucking it up."

You nodded, trying to keep a look of some kind of humble gratefulness on your face, reminding yourself firmly that you needed to stay on the good grace of the guy you'd be working with. But internally you felt the full concentrated wrath of a thousand suns. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? The god king of traps? All you were suggesting was working as a team to do shit like simultaneously disarm arrow and pressure traps and shit. You'd have to be fucking stupid to not be useful to another trap disarmer. Maybe he had more experience in this dungeon than you, but you'd hit plenty of other dungeons before this one was even discovered.

Senshi piped in. "I'd want to have y/n along for a bit anyway." He turned to you. "I'll need to draw up a careful food schedule for ye. I think you'll need to be eating a small amount once every couple of hours for the next few days."

Everyone kind of nodded, and...that seemed to be that. Through the rest of the night, you kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, more questions to be asked, someone to demand you demonstrate your skills, but it never happened. No one pried into your business, and it seemed to be just business as normal.

Once nighttime hit you were set up to share a bedroll with Marcille. A little awkward but Marcille was skinny and you were half her size so you actually both fit pretty nicely without having to be too tightly packed.

Laois attempted to suggest that perhaps you and Chilchuck could share a bedroll, being the two smallest party members, but Chilchuck shut it down with a clearly practiced level of defensive aggression.

Before bed Senshi popped up with a bowl full of delicious smelling soup.

"Took me a bit but I've made some hearty stew with the lamb chops! I'm just giving you the broth to drink right now, but in the morning you should be able to eat it fully."

You drank the broth slowly and carefully under the watchful eye of Senshi. You also noticed that Chilchuck casually positioned himself strategically close to you, although he was feigning an air of unconcern.

So NOW the fucker cared what happened to you. He'd insult your ability without even knowing about you, but apparently he'd deign to babysit.

You shot him a somewhat halfhearted glare as you pointedly sipped your soup with all the patience of a woman determined to prove she did actually have survival skills.

By the time you were finished with your food, everyone else was already settling down. You slipped into Marcilles bedroll as quietly as possible, and almost immediately passed out cold.

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#chilchuck tims #chilchuk dungeon meshi #chilchuck x reader #dungeon meshi x reader #dungeon meshi

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anonymousewrites · 7 months

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Nature of the Human Soul (Book 1) Chapter One

Platonic! Hazbin Hotel x Teen! Reader

Father Figure! Alastor x Teen! Reader

Chapter One: Welcome to the Hotel

Summary: (Y/N) falls to Hell and has to figure out how to live their afterlife.

(Y/N)’s eyes opened. The sun was gone. A red sky loomed over them. The rosebush they had died in had disappeared, replaced by cold cement.

(Y/N) sat up and looked around themself. All they could see were buildings, a city made of red brick and strange billboards for drugs and sex and other things that (Y/N) was pretty damn sure didn’t exist back where they’d been alive.

It didn’t take a genius to know where they were: Hell.

(Y/N) had died and fallen to hell. Very well. Standing, they straightened their shoulders. They’d killed people. They’d very much earned a place in Hell, even if (Y/N) felt that they’d done it to protect themself.

That being said, (Y/N) couldn’t just stand there. They had died at seventeen and were new in Hell. They weren’t sure what Hell was like, but it did put (Y/N) in a position to get hurt in some way.

(Y/N) walked out of the alley and looked around themself. They were in front of a store selling TVs that were playing some sort of news channel. Before (Y/N)’s attention went to the show, their eyes landed on their reflection in the glass.

They no longer looked human. Their skin had greyed from their formal tone. Green tinged their hands. Instead of hair, roses of their past hair color mixed with red covered their head like intricate curls. In place of the bloody clothes they had died in, they wore a red shirt with black overalls stitched with scarlet roses.

(Y/N) disliked the irony—they died in a rosebush, and now their entire appearance was reminiscent of the briars.

They looked away from their appearance and to the TV show playing. A girl with blond hair and white skin was…singing? (Y/N) cocked their head and watched as she sang about a “Happy Hotel” to hopefully redeem sinners to get them into Heaven.

Now, (Y/N) wasn’t convinced that people could be redeemed—if they could, then (Y/N) wouldn’t be in the Hell. They wouldn’t have needed to kill to try to save themself. Still, the bubbly blonde seemed like a safer bet than wandering around Hell on their own, so (Y/N) looked at the address and squared their shoulders.

They could do this. They survived their life. They would survive their death.

(Y/N) stood in front of the two main doors and looked up at the towering hotel. It looked like it was going to fall apart at any moment, but (Y/N) wasn’t going to give up the possibility to having a safe(?) place to stay just by being judgmental.

They knocked on the door, and instantly, it was flung open.

“Hello?” said the excitable, cheery voice from the TV show.

“Uh, hi,” said (Y/N). “Is this the Happy Hotel?”

“It is!” The blond grinned happily. “Are you looking to stay here?”

“Yeah,” said (Y/N), nodding.

“Oh my god! Welcome! I’m Charlie, and I run this hotel to redeem sinners!” said Charlie. She pulled (Y/N) inside. “That’s Vaggie, my girlfriend and the best helper ever—” she gestured to a grey-skinned woman with white hair over one eye with an “X” “And that’s Angel, our only other guest.” A tall man with spiderlike qualities waved with one of four arms. “What’s your name?”

“I’m (Y/N),” said the teenager, glancing at them a bit nervously.

“Don’t tell me you’re comin’ to stay here willingly,” said Angel.

“I don’t want to take my chances out there,” said (Y/N), gesturing back to Hell.

Vaggie frowned. “Are you…new to Hell?”

(Y/N) nodded. “I arrived earlier today.”

Charlie’s eyes widened. “Oh, wow, and you already came to be redeemed?”

(Y/N) shrugged.

Charlie deflated. “Oh…”

“It’s nothing personal. But I killed a couple people. I don’t really know if that can be redeemed,” said (Y/N).

“You killed people? How old are you?” said Vaggie, furrowing her brow.

“Seventeen,” said (Y/N).

“Holy shit. Impressive, kid,” said Angel.

“Oookay,” said Charlie, laughing nervously. “But you’re here now! Do you want to be redeemed?”

(Y/N) considered. “Do I have to feel sorry for what I did?”

“No way,” said Angel.

“Well, it kind of goes along with the whole redemption thing,” said Charlie.

(Y/N) frowned.

“We’ll work on it,” said Charlie, smiling weakly. “At least we have a new guest!”

“That’s your biggest success today, toots!” said Angel.

“Thanks for the reminder, Angel,” snapped Vaggie.

Another knock sounded at the door. Charlie perked up.

“Another person!” she cheered, running to the door. She opened it.

“Hell—”

She shut the door. She processed who she’d seen. She opened it again.

“—O.”

Charlie shut the door. “Hey, Vaggie.”

“What?” said Vaggie.

“The Radio Demon is at the door,” said Charlie.

“The what now?” said (Y/N), frowning.

“What?!” cried Vaggie.

“Who?” asked Angel.

“What should I do?” asked Charlie nervously.

“Well, don’t let him in,” said Vaggie.

Charlie made the incredibly astute decision to open the door again. (Y/N) peeked around the corner and saw a tall, deerlike man standing in old-timey clothes with a giant grin.

“May I speak now?” said the “Radio Demon.”

“You may,” said Charlie, attempting to sound regal.

“Alastor!” greeted the Radio Demon, putting out his hand to shake Charlie’s. “A pleasure to be meeting you, sweetheart, quite a pleasure.” He brushed past her inside. “Excuse my sudden visit, but I saw your fiasco on the picture show, and I just couldn’t resist! What a performance! Why I haven’t been that entertained since the Stock Market Crash of 1929.” He laughed. “So many orphans.”

Vaggie jumped in front of him before he could go any farther and pointed a spear at him. “Hold it right there!” She cursed in Spanish and glared. “I know your game, and I’m not gonna let you hurt anyone here you pompous, cheesy, talk-show shitlord!”

Alastor laughed and pushed her spear down. “Dear, if I wanted to hurt anyone here…” His grin froze, and his eyes turned to red dials. An ominous glow surrounded him. “I would have done so already.”

Everyone stared at him.

Alastor shook his head and smiled. “No, I’m here because I want to help!”

“Say what now?” said Charlie.

(Y/N) had to agree that sounded very doubtful after that display.

“Help!” repeated Alastor. He chuckled and tapped his cane-microphone. “Hello? Is this thing on? Testing, testing.”

“Well, I heard you loud and clear!” said the microphone.

“Uhm, you want to…help?” said Charlie, attempting a smile. “With…?”

Alastor disappeared into shadows and popped up next to Vaggie and Charlie, putting an arm around both of them. “This ridiculous thing you’re trying to do! This hotel! I want to help you run it!”

“Uhhhhh why?” asked Charlie.

“Why does anyone do anything?” said Alastor brightly. “Sheer, absolute boredom! I’ve lacked inspiration for decades. My work became mundane, lacking…focus…anguish! I’ve come to crave a new form of entertainment!”

“Does…getting into a fistfight with a reporter count as entertainment?” said Charlie.

I’d say it does, thought (Y/N).

Alastor laughed. “It’s the purest kind, my dear. Reality! True passion! After all, the world is a stage, and the stage is a world of entertainment.”

“So…does this mean that you think it’s possible to rehabilitate a demon?” said Charlie hopefully.

Alastor laughed. “Of course not. That’s wacky nonsense! Redemption? Oh, the nonexistent humanity! No, no, no, no, I don’t think there’s anything left that could save such lonesome sinners.” He looked at Vaggie, Angel, and (Y/N). “The chance given was the life they lived before. The punishment is this! There is no undoing what is done.”

“So then, why do you want to help me if you don’t believe in my cause?” asked Charlie.

Alastor grinned. “Consider it an investment in ongoing entertainment for myself! I want to watch the scum of the Earth struggle to climb up the hill of betterment only to repeatedly fail and tumble down to the fiery pit of failure.”

Charlie stared. “Riiiight.”

“Yes, indeedy. I see big things coming your way, and who better to help you than I!” Alastor continued talking to Charlie as they went out of sight.

“Who was that?” asked (Y/N).

“Yeah, what’s the deal with Smiles?” asked Angel.

“You, I get, but seriously, you’ve never heard of him?” said Vaggie, looking at (Y/N) and then Angel. “The Radio Demon? One of the most powerful beings Hell has ever seen?”

“Not big on politics,” said Angel, shrugging.

“Ugh.” Vaggie sighed and finally gave them their explanation. “Decades ago, Alastor manifested in Hell. Seemingly overnight, he began to topple Overlords that had been dominant for centuries. That kind of raw power had never been harnessed by a mortal soul before. Then, he broadcast his carnage all throughout Hell, just so everyone could witness his ability. Sinners started calling him the Radio Demon, as lazy as that is. Many have speculated: what unimaginable force enabled him to rival our world’s most ancient, indestructible evils? But one thing’s for sure…he’s an unpredictable source of danger, a wicked spirit of mystery and violent monster of chaos, the likes of which we can’t risk getting involved with unless we want to end up erased!”

“Ya done?” said Angel. He laughed. “He just looks like a Strawberry Pimp.”

“I wish I had that sort of power,” said (Y/N), staring wide-eyed at Alastor. Then no one would try to hurt them.

“I don’t trust him,” hissed Vaggie.

“Well, to be fair, do you trust any man?” said Angel with a smirk. “Any men? Men?”

Vaggie glared before getting up to talk to her girlfriend. “Charlie, listen to me. You can’t believe this creep. He isn’t just a happy face. He’s a dealmaker. He’s pure evil. He can’t be redeemed. And he’s most likely looking for a way to destroy everything we’re trying to do.”

“I…We don’t know that,” said Charlie. “Look, I know he’s bad, and he probably doesn’t wanna change, but the whole point of this is to give people a chance, to have faith that things will be better. How can I turn someone away? I can’t. It goes against everything I’m trying to do, everything I believe in. Just…trust me. I can take care of myself.”

“Charlie, whatever you do, do not make a deal with him,” said Vaggie.

(Y/N) made a mental note of that.

“I’ve picked up one thing from my dad! ‘You don’t take shit from other demons,’ ” said Charlie.

“Who’s her dad?” asked (Y/N).

“Lucifer, King of Hell,” said Angel matter-of-factly.

“Oh, wow,” said (Y/N), blinking.

“Okay, so, Al…” Charlie smiled awkwardly and approached Alastor. “You’re sketchy as fuck, and you clearly see what I’m doing here as a joke. But I don’t. I think everyone deserves a chance to prove they can be better, so I’m taking your offer to help. On the condition that there be no…trickster…voodoo strings attached.”

Alastor swung his cane around. “So, it’s a deal, then?” He extended a hand, and a sickly green glow emanated from it.

“Nope!” Charlie, smartly, pushed it back, and the light stopped. “No shaking! No deals. I…As Princess of Hell and heir to the throne, I, uh, hereby order you that you help with this hotel for as long as you desire. Sound fair?”

Alastor considered. “Fair enough!”

Charlie let out a breath of relief. “Cool beans.”

Alastor looked around the hotel and grinned at Vaggie. “Smile, my dear! You know you’re never fully dressed without one!” He looked at Charlie. “So where is your hotel staff?”

“Uh, well…” Charlie coughed and looked at Vaggie.

“Ohohoho, you’re going to need more than that,” said Alastor. He went to the two guests, smiling first at Angel. “And what can you do, my effeminate fellow?”

“I can suck your dick!” Angel grinned.

Alastor’s grin froze, and the sound of a broken microphone screeched across the air for a second. He recovered instantly. “Ha! No!”

“Your loss,” said Angel.

“And you, little sprout? What can you do?” said Alastor.

“No idea, I’m new,” said (Y/N). But I want to do whatever you can do.

“Well, this just won’t do!” said Alastor. “I suppose I can cash in a few favors to liven things up.” He snapped his fingers, and the fireplace flared to life to reveal a small body within. Alastor picked them up, and a single eye opened before the soot shook off a small woman with a 50s poodle skirt and bug-qualities. “This little darling is Niffty!”

“Hi, I’m Niffty!” she said brightly. “It’s nice to meet you! It’s been a while since I’ve made new friends! Why are you all women? Are there any men here?! I’m sorry, that’s rude! Man, this place is filthy! It really needs a lady’s touch, which is weird because you’re all ladies, no offense. Oh my gosh, this is awful!” She immediately skittered around the room and pulled down cobwebs. “No, no, no!”

“Ha! Read ‘em and weep boys!” A new voice appeared, and Alastor grinned as everyone looked over to see half a bar planted into the side of the foyer. “The hell? The fuck is this?” The cat-owl demon growled as he saw Alastor. “You.”

“Ah, Husker, my good friend, glad you could make it!” said Alastor.

“Don’t you Husker me, you son of a bitch,” snapped Husker. “I was about to win the whole damn pot!”

“Good to see you, too,” said Alastor.

“The hell do you want with me this time?” said Husker.

“My friend, I’m doing some charity work, so I took it upon myself to volunteer your services,” chirped Alastor. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Are you shitting me?!” demanded Husker.

“Hm? No, I don’t think so!” said Alastor.

“You thought it would be some kind of big fucking riot just to pull me out of nowhere? You think I’m some kind of fucking clown?!” spat Husker.

“Maybe!” said Alastor.

“I ain’t doing no charity job,” said Husker.

“Well, I figured you’d be the perfect piece to man the front desk of this fine establishment!” Alastor gestured to the bar counter as the “front desk.” “With your charming smile and welcoming energy, this job was made for you!” He strolled over to the bar. “Don’t worry my friend, I can make it more welcoming!” He waved his hand. “If you wish.” A bottle of booze appeared.

“What, you think you can buy me with a wink and some cheap booze?!” said Husker. He looked at Alastor. “Well, you can!” He took a long drink.

“Hey, hey, heyheyhey,” said Vaggie. “No, no bar! No alcohol! This is supposed to be a place that discourages sin! Not some kind of meth, brothel, mancave!”

“Shut up!” Angel tackled her. “Shut up! We are keeping this!” Three of his four hands pointed to Husker. He slid up to the bar. “Hey!”

“Go fuck yourself,” said Husker.

“Only if you watch me,” flirted Angel.

“I never got a chance to try alcohol,” said (Y/N), considering the bar.

“Absolutely not,” said Vaggie, and (Y/N)’s roses wilted.

“Oh my gosh!” Charlie ran up to Husker. “Welcome to the Happy Hotel! You’re going to love it here!”

“I lost the ability to love years ago,” said Husker.

“So, what do you think?” said Alastor, grinning.

“This is amazing!” said Charlie.

“It’s…okay,” said Vaggie.

“I like it!” said (Y/N). “Most fun I saw even during my life!”

“This is going to be very entertaining!” said Alastor, drawing them and Charlie into a hug. Then, music began, and a top hat appeared on his head.

(Alastor) “You have a dream, You wish to tell!”

Alastor began to sing, and Charlie and (Y/N)’s outfits became 1920s-themed.

(Alastor) “And it’s just laughable!” “But hey kid, what the hell?”

He tossed Charlie up and began to dance alongside her.

(Alastor) “’Cause you’re one of a kind, A charming demon belle, Now let’s give these burning fools, A place to dwell!”

He snapped his fingers, and everyone else got their themed outfits. Shadow demons popped up and began playing swing music. (Y/N) began tapping their feet and spun alongside the demons, even if the others weren’t dancing along. They had never gotten this sort of fun or energy when they were alive, so why not enjoy themself now?

(Alastor) “Inside of every demon is a lost cause! But we’ll dress them up for now with just a smile!” (Shadows) “Wicked smile!” (Alastor) “And we’ll chlorinate this cesspool, With some old redemption flair, And show these simpletons, Some proper class and style!” (Shadows) “Class and style!”

Alastor spun Charlie around, and she grinned excitedly despite his rude lyrics.

(Alastor) “Oh, here below the ground, I’m sure your plan is sound, They’ll spend a little time at the Hazbin Ho—”

Boom!

His singing was cut off as the wall behind him exploded, and the debris slammed into Niffty, sending her flying.

Everyone’s outfits returned, and they all peeked outside. A giant flying machine of black and yellow was floating above them, and a window in it opened to reveal a snake demon.

“Well, well, well!” he said. “Look who it is harboring the striped freak! We meet yet again, Alastor!”

“Do I know you?” asked Alastor, grinning.

The snake’s smile dropped, but (Y/N) and Angel snickered.

“Oh, yes you do!” declared the snake, retreating to drive his machine. “And this time, I have the element of surprise!” A giant gun moved into position and ignited. “Ahaha! I’m so evil!”

Alastor snapped his fingers, and a giant portal of shadows appeared beneath the machine. They grabbed the gun and tossed it out of existence before piercing the ship itself. Shadows took over the entire ship while Alastor grinned and runes appeared around him. He closed his fist, and the shadows condensed. They smashed the ship, and he was left with an evil grin and a red glow.

Everyone’s eyes went to Alastor, slightly scared.

Alastor snapped back to his usual self. “Well, I’m starved! Who wants some jambalaya? My mother once showed me the most wonderful recipe for jambalaya. In fact, it nearly killed her! Hahaha! You could say the kick was right out of hell! Ohoho, I’m on a roll! Yes, sir, this is the start of some real changes down here! The game is set!”

(Y/N) watched him go. Oh, yeah, they wanted that type of power.

Taglist:

@kyalov

@pandaquick

@boredwithlifeatthispoint

@jaytheaceenby

@paastaboi

@bettybabys

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@just-here-reading

@dmitrytherat

@a-small-tyrant

@marxo5

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mythunderstorm · 1 year

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Gott, ich liebe dich | MS47

mick schumacher x fem!reader

This is just a fluffy something, no drama no nothing. I just want to daydream about me and Mick living our best life LOL

word count: 656

Idk this has literally no purpose and the ending is kinda rushed and weird but I wanted to post again hahah

Warnings: maybe the slightest mention of a breeding kink, if you squint.🧍🏽

And i’m pretty sure there are some grammar mistakes

(Btw I know Gina‘s not pregnant but let’s just pretend for the story😭)

masterlist

„You know you don’t have to help me with all of this, right y/n? You’re a guest like everyone else.“

„If you think I‘m gonna let you prepare everything on your own you really don’t know me well Corinna!“ you say laughing, continuing to cut the tomatoes for the salad. Corinna wanted to host a nice summer garden party to finally get family and friends together again on this absolutely beautiful day. Even your parents would attend and travel to Switzerland after not seeing them for quite a while.

It’s still early, the temperature is nice and not too hot, which makes preparations a lot easier. Mick and Gina are sitting in the garden, soaking up the early morning sun and enjoying the quietness before all the guests arrive in a few hours.

„I‘m gonna bring Mick a new coffee and check if Gina needs something, i‘ll be back in a second“ you say, smiling at Corinna before you walk towards the backyard.

Your boyfriend has his back to you, you smile, holding the hand with the coffee cup in front of his chest while leaning against his back, giving his neck a small kiss.

„Hey Schatz“ you can hear him smiling. „Thanks for the coffee, you’re a sweetheart.“ „Oh I know“ you giggle, kissing his cheek.

You turn to go back inside but Mick is fast to catch your wrist, pulling you back. „Staay!“ he whines. „You‘ve been running around all morning, just stay here for a bit.“ Mick says while giving you actual puppy eyes. You giggle. „I can’t Mickey, someone has to help your Mom with preparations!“ while saying this you can see from the corner of your eye how Gina is starting to get up so you turn to her, giving her a disapproving look. „Don’t you dare Gina! Sit back down, let me bring you a juice and RELAX. You won’t lift a finger today, alright?“ „If you say so“, she laughs.

„You know you don’t have to do this, right? You’re not here to be mom’s little helper in the kitchen“ Mick suddenly says. You give him a soft look, caressing his cheek with your hand. „Ich weiß Baby. I enjoy helping her, it’s no problem.“ I know Baby

You lean up, giving Mick a soft kiss.

„Gott, ich liebe dich“ you can hear him mumble. You smile. „Ich liebe dich auch.“ God, I love you + I love you too

With that being said, you go back to help Corinna, but not without bringing Gina her well deserved juice.

———

A few hours later everything is prepared, the food is ready to be devoured by the guests and the garden is decorated, with the help of Mick. The sun is standing high on the sky when the first people arrive at the Schumacher home.

More and more people find themself in the beautiful garden but Mick is nowhere to be seen. After running around all morning you are craving a hug and maybe some kisses from the man who stole your heart years ago.

You go back into the house, trying the kitchen first and running into Corinna.

Before you get the chance to open your mouth, she smiles „He‘s in the living room sweetheart.“

You smile back. „Danke!“ Thanks

“Hier bist du! I’ve been looking for you baby.” There you are!

Mick chuckles, “Sorry Liebling, I fled all those people who claim they’ve changed my diaper at least once while I was a baby.” Love

You giggle while embracing your boyfriend in a loving hug. “I think you’re safe now”, you mumble against Micks neck, “everyone is focused on Ginas growing baby bump.”

“Just wait mein Schatz, soon everyone will be focusing on you!” my treasure

You laugh, lightly hitting the back of Micks head “Yea, you’d like that huh?”

Mick places a small kiss right under your ear while squeezing your ass. “Oh I’d very much like that.

———

yea i‘d let mick knock me up tbh

ik this is so short, i‘m trying to write sth longer in the future😭 ideas who i should write about??

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagines #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher #ms47 #msc47 #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 #formula 1

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phyrestartr · 19 days

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Man of Worship (P.1) | Zagreus x M!Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 |

w/c: 2.3k #NSFW themes, demigod reader, eventual polyamory, traumatic past, healing from trauma, mentions of dub-con, mentions of suicide, hurt/comfort, boys being boys, toxic parents, olympic gods doing typical olympic god bs

Note: SO this is basically a rework of Rhubarb, even though I still want to pursue the rest of Rhubarb with that particular reader character, HOWEVER I generally make two or three versions of the same story while I'm brainstorming, and I ended up digging into more Greek mythos while looking for inspo and BOOM.

ANYWAY I didn't tag for this since it's a new fandom I'm writing for, but if you'd like to be tagged, pls feel free to leave a comment!! I'll update my tag form thing in a moment too :D I hope this is a fun read!!

1. A Gardener?

He noticed first the flutter of feathered wings. It was an odd thing to hear in the underworld, and even odder still to hear it come from the outer gardens–the place poor, pitiful Zagreus was barred from.

Father won't tell me anything of this. And that was true--Hades was anything but straightforward and honest with his son. So, to the real parent of the house was where the prince went.

“Erm, Nyx?” Zagreus asked, shooting glances back at the iron gates as he met his mother-figure. “I've got a question for you, if you don't mind.”

“I do not mind. I will do my best to answer, my child.” She watched him with eased attention, then followed his gaze to the forbidden outdoors. “Is something the matter?”

“No–well, maybe? Not sure, but. Well.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck. “Just–are there birds out in the garden?”

Nyx blinked. “Birds?”

“Yes. I keep hearing something fluttering around every now and then, and I swear I've seen something moving around in the garden. You know, the one I'm not allowed to enter?”

“Ah.” The goddess nodded. “Of course. There is a new servant of the house, one who was chosen to tend to the gardens.”

“Really.” Zagreus planted his hands on his hips and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, gaze returning to the forbidden area. “Well, that's the first I've heard of it.”

“He does not linger long; he arrives with the sun, and leaves only when the work is done,” Nyx explained. “He is a diligent helper of the House. Your father is quite pleased, I've noticed.”

“Well, I've never thought that Father could be pleased in any regards.” Zagreus’ mismatched gaze flickered back to Nyx. “But why now? The garden's never needed a tender before.”

“A flower wilted,” Nyx sighed, looking aside. “And your father has grown concerned.”

“Hah. Concerned for the plants? Good to know he can still give a damn about something,” Zagreus bit, sending a scalding glare to the throne. “Guess that's why he locked it up, kept it from me.”

Night smiled, sympathetic. “You do have a reputation.”

“One that I must uphold,” he agreed, heart light and spirit lifted higher. “Thank you, Nyx. I should get back to ransacking my father's domain.”

Nyx nodded sagely and reached a hand up, fixing the tilt of Zagreus’ burning laurel. “I would hope for nothing less, my child.”

–

“You play music?”

Your voice startled Zagreus, sending a Zeus-like jolt through him and holding him in place with a fit of numbing static. Thankfully, however, twas not the true bite of the sky king, and Zagreus had the luxury to back out of his room a few paces.

“You heard?” He asked, face somehow both paling and burning in tandem.

You, whilst leaning against the iron gate, nodded. “‘N if I did?”

“Oh.” Zagreus rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “That's unfortunate. Sorry for the bother.”

“Don't misunderstand me, god.” Your spectral eyes bore into him with easy confidence. Zagreus quite liked that look. “You played much like a dying pigeon at first, I'll admit, but you've improved.”

Zagreus laughed and approached you. Your dry informality pricked him with intrigue. “Well, now I know you're lying.”

“Lies are useless for those who need the truth.” Your words came so bold, the prince had no choice but to believe you. “I can hear it. The notes–they come easier to you. Sweeter, even. Like figs ripe on the tree.”

“Figs?” Zagreus tilted his head much like Cerberus might. “Huh. Can't say I've had one of those.”

“Really? Well, then I shall see to it that you wonder no longer, god.” You leaned away, nearly out of sight of the iron-barred gateway, and jostled through the leaves of a bush or tree of sorts before the sharp snap of something announced your return.

You stuck your arm through a gap in the fence, one where your glowing skin was threatened by a cascade of decorative thorns, but you didn't much care. That care, instead, found itself funneled into the deliverance of a ripe fig to the prince of the underworld, it seemed.

Zagreus stared for a moment. He wasn't used to receiving gifts unless he bestowed one upon another, first. To him, this almost felt like–could it be--

“If you don't take it in the next three seconds, I'm going to eat it myself and not hand you another,” you groused.

“Hah.” He snatched the fruit from your hand. “You wouldn't dare.”

“I've dared much worse, god, believe me.” You withdrew your hand and drummed your palms against the iron. “Well, enjoy. And be sure to clean your hands before touching that lyre again.” You looked him over, face placid as it'd been for his entire short history knowing you–but your eyes, the strange things, they hinted at hidden curiosities. “I'll be listening.”

–

“Say, Meg, do you know much about the new House attendant?” Zagreus asked, flourishing his Stygian blade as he walked towards the Fury, prepared to fight after a quick chat.

Megaera's eyes narrowed. “You're talking about the flirt.”

“The flirt?” Zagreus rested his sword down, digging its diamond tip into the cracked ground. “Is that really what he's known for? Flirting? He doesn't seem like the type.”

A heavy sigh left Meg. “Ask Than. He might be more willing to endure your rambling and answer questions. I am not.”

“You know, I think we really need to work on your patience.” Still, he flicked up his blade of the underworld, and lunged first.

–

As the Fates would have it, Thanatos was already at the House. Even more fateful, still, was where he stood–not by the river Styx, no, but by the garden’s gate for a change. Death's presence on that side of the house seemed…odd, despite his infrequent visits to the lounge. Never before did he show interest in a coworker, neither, not unless it was his twin who needed some firm and stringent guidance.

“Admiring the flowers?” Zagreus asked, and Death flinched.

“No, I–” He sighed, and spared a look over his shoulder. “What do you want, Zagreus?”

The shorter one shrugged, and stood beside his age-old friend. “Came to find you. Is that so odd?”

“If you're going to shove more nectar in my hands, then you can forget it.” Thanatos looked away again and scowled beyond iron bars. “You've made your bed.”

Zagreus stifled a sigh, and rubbed the back of his neck. “I–well–in all honesty, I had a question, one that I'd hoped you could answer.”

“Then ask.”

“Right to the point then.” Zagreus cleared his throat and shuffled closer to Death. “Who exactly is the new gardener? Meg said you might know.”

Thanatos graced him with a wide-eyed stare. “I thought you'd know by now.”

Zagreus shrugged. “I wouldn't be asking if I knew.”

“He is–” Death paused, his jaw tightening, tendons threatening to snap. “Why do you want to know?”

Zagreus convinced himself not to pry. “We haven't had a new servant of the House in, well, eternities. Father wouldn't allow just anyone in here.”

“Sure, but don't you think you should ask him yourself?”

“It's hard to catch him. He's quite flighty, as Fate would have it. Must be the wings.”

“Must be.” Zagreus swore he heard the inkling of a smile on those words. “Well, I don't think it's fair for me to spoil the introduction. But I will say this–he was a servant of the House in life, and now continues on in death.”

“Really?” Zagreus couldn't quite wrap his head around it. How could someone be devoted to the house before even arriving?

“Yes. He made my job easier, in some regards. Assisted, at the very least,” Death said.

“Huh.” Zagreus crossed his arms and scuffed his sole against time-worn stone. “Guess that explains that. I don't suppose you'd be willing to go into elaborate detail regarding what exactly our avian gardener did in life to earn yours and Father's favour? Or, even just his name?”

“No.” A luminous wash of turquoise licked off Death's shoulders, his scythe. “Ask him yourself. I've work to do.”

And with the toll of a bell, he was gone.

–

It took a while to catch you again. Apparently, you kept to a strict, self-imposed schedule that Zagreus couldn't even begin to understand despite its simplicity. Nyx told him you arrived come morning, at the very least. That may have been helpful, if Zagreus could tell the damn time in the underworld.

So, he resorted to guessing; if he could not find you through the convenience of your daily routine, he'd swing by whenever he died. He was bound to run into you at some point.

And he did. It was when he wandered to the lounge, eager to deliver a wealth of fish to the head chef, that he caught the ghostly sound of feathers against leaves.

Zagreus backed out of the lounge in time to see your curious glance. A rush pulsed through him–finally, finally, he'd get his chance to interrogate you.

“Hey!” He called.

“Hey,” You called back.

“Just--don’t go anywhere. I need to hand over some river denizens and then I need to speak with you,” Zagreus rambled off as quickly as he could.

Your brows furrowed, but you offered a shallow nod. “I'll wait up.”

With that, Zagreus sped by the gossiping Meg and Dusa and a gaggle of other patrons to all but throw his catch to the head chef. It was a good haul today. Hopefully that meant–ah ha.

Zagreus rolled the bottle of nectar over in his hands. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he sang, and ran off, tucking the gift away before approaching the iron bars.

You were toiling away, a little farther in the garden than before, but not too far to escape the prince's presence. It gave him a chance to take a good look at you: simple black chiton on a well-muscled frame, wings full of bronze feathers, wild hair tied back into the smallest of ponytails. You looked quite ordinary, save for the wings.

But your eyes had been strange: they glowed. Not with the morose cold of Ixion, but with the exact opposite. Warm. Bronze. Sunlit, maybe. He'd never known sunlight, but you must have kept a drop of it in your very soul.

“So?” You said as you meandered back to him. You walked with unbothered confidence, much different to Zagreus’ sprightly impatience. “What important matters must we discuss?”

“Your name, first of all,” the prince requested. “I am Zagreus, son of Hades and--"

“Prince of the underworld,” you added. “Well, I figured you were him. Good to have a proper introduction, I suppose.” You took a breath. “As for me, you'll call me (Name).”

Zagreus repeated the name. It held a fullness in his mouth, something sweet and foreign, too much like the fig you'd offered him not too long ago. Maybe you were the minor god of figs (wouldn't that be something?).

“Pleased to meet you, then. I trust the garden will be well-kept in your capable hands. And wings,” Zag said. “Oh! And, ah, here--a token of thanks for your hard work.”

Your brows raised and Zagreus’ chest filled with hope; for once, your blank mask changed, and you looked less like a gorgon-born statue and more like a human. Somehow, it gave him relief.

But your expression crumpled into furrowed brows and narrowed eyes. “Nectar?” You wondered aloud.

Zagreus nodded and slipped the bottle best he could through the gap. “Yes, I…I hope you will take it, if it pleases you.”

You examined the bottle as it slipped into your hand and leaned a shoulder up against the gate. “Odd. Why is it in the underworld?”

The tension left Zagreus’ muscles as you accepted the gift. “Not a clue. Maybe Olympus ferries some down here from time to time to try and liven things up.”

“Hah.” The mock laughter almost sounded genuine. “Dionysus would, from what I've heard of him.” You held the bottle up, watching the light reflect shards of gold and ghostly greens. “He's not so bad, that god of wine.”

“You've met him?” Zagreus wondered.

“No,” you admitted. Your light-filled eyes found him again. “But I've met gods, when I once lived. No man should have to meet them. They bring misfortune, even the supposed good ones.”

The prince took a sure step forward, and your eyes steeled. “Well, you're right about Dionysus,” he assured instead of scorned. “He's good. I'm sure he's had his moments, still. But I get on with him well.” I'm sure you would, too, he decided against saying; the more he took in your features, the more he realized the god's work carved into you, painting you unnatural colours and robbing you of something only humans could have. He didn't think you'd much enjoy being forced into a hypothetical with them.

“Then I shall take your word for it,” you said. “And I will pretend this bottle comes from Dionysus, to make it more palatable.”

“Well, whatever pleases you.” Zagreus smiled and leaned against the wall by the gate. “But, if I may ask, which gods have you–”

“Boy,” Hades’ voice thundered, echoing down the hall. “Do not disturb the rest of the House and distract them from their duties. Unlike you, they do not wish to disappoint.”

Zagreus clicked his tongue and looked over his shoulder. “Yes, of course, Father. I'll get right to ignoring every blasted person in this damn House. Perhaps I'll consider a life of solitude while I'm at it!”

“Do not test me further, boy.”

Zagreus rolled his eyes, but gave in, finding your (gentler?) eyes once again. “Well. I'd more than happily argue with my father all day–or night–about this, but I wouldn't want you to bear the punishment.”

You nodded a little and glanced from the prince back down to the bottle. “I appreciate this, princeling.”

“It's nothing, really.” Though Zagreus did indeed beam with delight. “Well, then I'll leave you to your work.”

“Be sure to come back. I need to return the favour,” you said as you turned. “Until then, princeling.”

#cw: death #cw: suicide #cw: dubcon #male reader insert #male reader #zagreus x reader #zag x reader #zagreus hades x reader #zagreus hades game x you #hades game reader insert #hades game x reader #zagreus x male reader #hades game male reader insert

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foone · 1 year

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We build bases on the moon. Colonize the planets of the gas giants, terraform Mars and Venus, build orbital habitats around everything with enough gravity to hold it up. We invent FTL, and send ships named after dreams to every star we have cataloged. We have rulebooks and plans and endless ideas of what we do when finally we meet another spacefairing race, but it never happens. We don't hail any vulcan cruisers above the skies of Epsilon Eridani and get in no laser battles with a star destroyer in the scarlet light of Wolf 359. No one responds to our endless messages sent to the heavens.

Life? We find that everywhere. If a rock is big enough to hold onto enough atmosphere, we find something growing there. Maybe just a moss or some protokarotic slime, but there'll be something growing there. We spend centuries cataloging the flora and fauna (and everything in between) of a million stars, and never meet anyone who can say hello back.

Not yet at least. In the unending sunset of the Mu Herculis system there's the Peterson's Mermaids who are just developing language and starting on metallurgy. The vampires of Fomalhaut b have begun to write down numbers, and we expect them to have a full language sometime within the next hundred thousand years. There's no animal life on Gliese 499 d, but we have reason to suspect the clonal organism inhabiting most of the northern forest is verging on sapience. And we don't even have time to get into the theory that 55 Cancri B (the red dwarf orbiting the star Copernicus) is a living being in it's own right.

There's plenty of life to study. Lots to learn. But we never meet anyone we can greet in friendship, and there's no star gods out here in the black. We've looked everywhere.

Humanity takes decades to come to terms with the reality of the situation. But we do, of course. We can't give up now.

We searched endlessly for the ancient aliens with all the answers, who built hyperspace portal networks before our sun even burnt, and couldn't find them. We settled for locating our brothers and sisters amongst the stars, another race that had fought their way up from the trees and into the stars, and couldn't find them either.

We always dreamed of finding a parent we could look up to, or a sibling we could share the sky with. They weren't there.

Humanity settles into their role. It wasn't what we hoped for, but we'll be the big brother/big sister to the life of the universe. Not the parent, no. We didn't create them, and we don't control them, but we'll protect them. We'll help them when they fall, and let them make their own mistakes when they need to. But we're here to be the role model and the helper and the partner in crime, the one we wanted but never had.

We keep searching, of course. And our observers on a thousand planets report that there are hints of an ancient race, older than writing, mentioned in the myths of endless cultures. Gods from the skies who stopped the flood, who ended the plague, who taught them to plant a new crop, who stopped the war just as the bombs began to fall, and who led them to a new land when the star began to flare.

We investigate these rumors and myths and stories, just in case we missed the Ancients we always wanted to find. But at the heart of these stories, there's always a description of the helpers: bipedal, two arms, two eyes, no fur, no wings. And if the species has developed art and writing, there'll often be a drawing of a figure, standing alongside a local god or great leader, and nearby the legend will read "humans".

Art historians and religious studies scholars are amused at how often they give us halos. Someone even suggests redesigning our force-suit geometry to reinforce the impression, but cooler heads prevail. We're not doing this for praise or worship. We're doing this because no one could do it for us.

Millenia later after we've been joined among the stars by our sibling races, a mermaid and a vampire are idly chatting while they wait for their turn through the portal network around Fornax A. "What drove the humans to do all this? Why did they take it upon themselves to search every corner of the universe and decide to protect and shelter and guide the many younger races of the stars?". The mermaid shrugs, which is hard to do without shoulders. "I think they just wanted friends."

The vampire looks out the observation window, at the thousands of ships from hundreds of spacefairing races, waiting in line or jumping through phase gates to the other side of the cosmos. "Well, they've got them now."

There's a beep from a console, and a warning light activates as the ship accelerates towards a shimmering gate. Our children play among the stars, without fear of the dark. There's no monsters there, we checked. There's only us.

#my writing

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siconetribal · 4 months

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Beyond the Bookshelves (2)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: When you're forced to work in pairs/groups when you don't want to work in pairs/groups, work life, slice of life

Summary: You're a Resource Management Specialist at S.H.I.E.L.D. normally referred to as “The Librarian”. You've been assigned the nightmarish task of digitizing all the physical resources currently owned by the agency, with a few new computers and one extra helper.

A/N: Thank you to all the readers who have loved this story so much already, I did not expect so man tag requests! I'll do my best to live up to your expectations in this story that is pretty much writing itself. If I missed anyone who asked to be tagged, please let me know!

Please comment/like/reblog. If you'd like to be tagged moving forward, please let me know!

The lovely banners used in this fic are from @cafekitsune.

The walk back to the library was longer than usual, but that was because you were now burdened with a task that was nearly impossible to complete with what was at your disposal. Not only was there so little provided, the personnel allotted was the complete opposite of what was necessary. It would have been laughable had it not been so pathetic. You, someone who normally worked with a set number of others, (most of which were virtual) was now forced into a group with two other members whom you have never even properly spoken to.

Loki probably hates me, he has to hate me. The man-person-god-prince-whatever-he-is has never even uttered a word to me until today! You thought back to the very first time you ever met the silent and brooding raven haired Asgardian.

It started off just like any other day, quiet and peaceful. It was just you, the books, and the sun. Though it was a state-of-the-art facility, the library was given a more soothing design with wooden shelving and tables, soft carpeting, comfortable seating of chairs and sofas, table lamps, and desks for laptops and computers to promote productivity and security. There were a few high-tech things, such as the book trolley being robotic and the security measures equal to the rest of the complex; but overall it evoked a sense of tradition.

You were leading the robot trolley filled with books through the shelves, returning items to their proper place, when you heard the chime at the door. Peeking your head out of the aisle, you were awestruck by the handsome young man whom you have never seen before, slowly walking in and looking around in what you could only describe as pure wonder. There was a sparkle of life in those blue eyes and the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. Setting the book in hand back on the trolley, you stepped out and gave a big smile.

“Hello, my name is Y/N. I’m the librarian. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You cheerily greeted him, but only received silence in return as he walked further into the room without even a passing glance. There’s no way he didn’t hear me, right? I didn’t shout, but I wasn’t quiet either. He seems to be really excited about the library, so maybe he was too busy looking around? She opened her mouth to let him know she was here to assist if he needed anything, but he was nowhere to be seen. “I guess he really was just that eager.” You muttered to yourself as you finished your task and made your way to the main desk.

Who is he, anyway? He looks oddly familiar, but I just can’t put my finger on it. You dug through your memories, trying to find a name to the face. When it was clear that it was not something that would come to you right away, he let it be for now and tried your best to see if the newcomer was still here. Had it not been for the occasional sightings, you would have sworn your mind was playing tricks on you. When he finally settled on a few books, you waited for him to come to the desk to check out.

“Excuse me, sir!” You shouted after him as he went straight towards the door. His nose was already buried in one book, and two more were under his arm. It was too late. The alarm at the door began ringing, and a female computer voice came through the speakers.

“Please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk. I repeat, please return the books to the library or check them out at the main desk.” You watched his head snap up and look around for the source of the disembodied voice when holographic floating arrows directed his attention towards you. You gave a slight wave and put on your best welcoming smile once more. He looked down at the books he held briefly before making his way over to the desk.

“I guess you didn’t hear me, I was trying to get your attention before you left. It’s fine, people make that mistake most of them the time when they're busy. May I please see the books?” He held out your hands, but he deposited the stack on to the desk and pushed it towards you. Ok, you pulled them closer. “Your ID as well, please.” You held out your hand once more and the man simply stared at you, bewildered, with scrunched eyebrows and a growing frown. Lifting your lanyard up, you pointed to your pass holder, which held your ID. “Your ID card, the one that gives you access to the various parts of this facility.” The continued silence was deafening as one of his hands slipped into one of his pockets and he pulled out his ID and placed it on the table. “Uh, thank you,” you mumble as you pick up the piece of plastic and tapped it against a panel to the right of your monitor. Loki? You stared at the name for a moment, the gears slowly turning in your head as you scanned the books one by one before handing them and his ID back to him. “You have two weeks to return or extend your borrow time. Please do not damage them or return them late, you will incur some fees if so. Thank you, I hope you enjoy them. If you need any,” you began to strike up conversation once more, but he took the books and left without a word, leaving you to awkwardly watch.

“Talk about intimidating! I had no idea they brought him here!” You let out a heavy sigh and plopped back into your chair. “I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him without those big gold horns! Did he really just ignore me, though? Maybe he’s shy? I don’t recall ever hearing him speak, though,” you muttered to yourself, swinging left to right. “He must’ve proven that he’s not dangerous if he’s allowed to be part of the Avenger’s team.” You shrugged and let the topic slide for now. You would give him time to grow accustomed to you…or so you thought.

The encounters that followed were nearly identical to the first. He would come in and completely ignore you, read for hours, check out books, and leave. Not a word came from his lips, and he only ever looked at you with you were not sure whether it was disdain or disgust. At some point, you completely gave up on speaking to him and simply took note of the books he liked. When he would go searching for something of interest, you would set a book that you believed he would enjoy beside the sofa he usually sat. It was clear she chose well, since he would always read and check it out. With all this in mind, you had come to the conclusion he cannot speak for some reason, and you were a rude stranger constantly chattering on to him. Not wanting to spoil his time in the library, you quickly adapted and remained silent in return.

You dryly laughed at the memories that dropped on you like bricks. You were clearly thinking too highly of yourself, since today you had heard him speak quite clearly. Why would someone remain quiet for so long? After all attempts made to strike up conversation? There was only one valid solution: he hated you. The reason, you were not sure, but it was the only thing that made sense, and that meant you only had one Asgardian to rely on for assistance in your assignment.

Thor can only do so much since he is a main team member and one that is sent out on multiple missions globally. You pinched the bridge of your nose. Even if they forced Loki to assist, he’ll also be sent on various missions as well. I’ll have to wait for them to return every single time because those take priority over what I need to do. Then there’s training for the missions, training to keep working well as a team, meeting, and the press! The work is never going to get done! You wanted to rip your hair out from frustration as you roughly tousled it about and let out a loud groan of frustration once inside your sanctuary, the library. “And this is all if they say yes to helping me out. I doubt Fury is going to demand it, and Agent Hill isn’t going to go out of her way to persuade them. Just forget it, Y/N, fix the report and file it. Then just go on with your day just like you always do.”

“Thor, Loki, thank you for taking the time to meet with me.” Agent Hill greeted the brothers that came into her office.

“Of course we would come. It is not often that you call for anyone other than Stark or Rogers.” Thor gave an amicable smile, while Loki simply took a seat in one of the chairs in front of her desk. “What is it that you wish to discuss with us?” Thor took the seat beside his brother.

“I won’t take much of your time, it is a new assignment that only the two of you can assist us with.” She took her seat once more and faced the two of them. “Director Fury has given a task to our Resources Management department, the lead of which works here at HQ with us. She is the Librarian. I’m sure you have seen her most of all.” She looked towards the younger prince.

Loki kept a passive outwardly expression while his mind quickly tried to pull out the information of this librarian. He was no stranger to meeting a multitude of people, but he was not foolish enough to assume he would be able to memorize everyone’s name and face. He was a prince of Asgard, the only people he needed to know of in detail ere dignitaries and other royals. This librarian was hardly someone he would have considered amongst the two categories.

“So what if I have?” He coolly questioned, unsure of what the agent was trying to get at with all of this. Is this the reason she requested an audience with us the week before? What task could they have possibly given such a department that requires our assistance? I am not some scribe! He wanted to snap at Hill, but he held his tongue. Though he was an Avenger now, he was still not fully trusted by anyone. He knew even Thor had his reservations, but they knew how the Mind Stone worked. They knew he was not lying, but they were clear in stating they did not know him and this chance was only given because of his brother, Thor.

“Well, it will make things easier for us. She needs assistance in translating all of our texts into English. The department needs to create digital copies of all our books and paper resources so that we can access them anywhere and any time. We do not have the means to simply assign large groups to this task, because it would lead to suffering in on ground missions and recon. The both of you have the ability of AllSpeak which can translate anything you say to English. When you are available, please assist the Librarian in translating the various texts to help speed up the process.”

“This is a side request?” Thor asked, wanting to clarify the priority of this.

“Yes, we do not wish for this to hinder any missions you are needed for. We are requesting you head to the library when you have the time to speak with her and set up a tentative schedule so that she can report back to Director Fury by the end of this month. By that time, she will have the necessary equipment as well. If he approves, then we can move forward in starting this task.”

“You want us to dictate books to her? So she can type it up? Do you not have programs that can instantly translate for you?” Loki frowned, crossing his arms in disapproval at this waste of time.

“Though there are plenty of translation software programs out there, none of them are a hundred percent accurate. They may translate directly word for word, which could destroy the concept of the passages. It may attempt to try to understand the concept, but get it completely wrong. Both of you will be able to read the text and understand the context of it, which will help her type a more accurate translation.” Thor loudly hummed as he considered the task. It was not something he was rather fond of, however he wanted to be of assistance if this would help the organization.

“I am to deployed on a mission with Rogers and Stark in a couple of days. I am not certain how long we will be away. Is it possible to extend the time of meeting with the Librarian?”

“I am to head out with the spider and bird tomorrow evening and return in four days.” Loki added.

“Very well, I will have her look into your schedules and reach out to the both of you. If it cannot be done together, I will have her meet with you separately. Your missions will always be a priority, and she is well aware of that. Thank you for your assistance, I’ll inform her of this development.” Agent Hill stood from her seat and the two brothers followed, stepping out of her office and making their way towards the common room.

“Have you actually met this Librarian, brother?” Thor was the one to break the silence.

“I have not the faintest clue on whom they are referring to. No one speaks to me in this sterile place, how am I supposed to meet anyone?” He scoffed. Who would want to talk to a monster such as me? “It doesn’t matter, we will meet this woman at some point and better understand this waste of time that we are being dragged into. If you’ll excuse me, I have a debriefing to sit through.” He turned down the hall on their left, leaving Thor with the harsh words of his reality.

Tags: @vbecker10 @huntress-artemiss @softestqueeen @thegodofnotknowing @princess-ofthe-pages @firedrakegirl @rcailleachcola @cabingrlandrandomcrap @lotrefcp @lwtannie @kats72 @kneelingformyloki

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tarjapearce · 1 year

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Lips anon! Oh my, that was quite a treat! That cherry gif tho 😳

Miguel is totally a sucker for her naughty side hehe

Imagine Miguel having a particularly rough day. Cherry Baby notices and cheers him up with a kiss. She can't help but notice his eyes are on her chest after. She promises to ask for forgiveness before she hooks the front of her dress down for her breasts to spill out.

Miguel's eyes widen, and he's at a loss for words. But before he can say anything, she fixes herself and clears her throat before getting up.

"I'll be tending to supper now--"

"Meet me here tonight? Same time as last time?"

Her cheeks flare red.

🤭🤭🤭 I love that we are exploring Cherry's sexuality, like she's slowly stopping being apologetic about it. 🤭

--------

Miguel's headache was rampant. The sun had been particularly hot, Agustín had a small backtrack in his training that almost got one of his helpers injured, your dad's finances were a mess that he had to fix. And of course, the fucking cherry ontop. Your mother.

At first her looks and comments rolled out of him like his sweat, unbothered by them. But then, after her finding out about his glances towards his daughter, she made sure to belittle him in every occasion she could, not wasting a chance. Even though you would apologize later, little sweet thing you were, they were growing tiresome and annoying.

You could only see him passing, a serious look in his face after your mother had just told him

"I'm glad people understand where they belong."

Why your mother was so set into giving him a hard time was beyond you, but of course, if the comments kept going, he'd surely leave. You followed to the barn and saw him sitting on his usual desk. He had even restored the small and tattered space and made it his office.

"Hey" He looked up with a small smile, hiding his headache behind his hand.

"Hey" It was curt, but gentle.

You sat on his lap, cheeks already redden and kissed him.

"I apologize for mom. She's... ugh. Stupid at times."

"Me está hartando. (Im growing sick of it.)"

You cradled him and he relaxed under your touch

"You're an amazing man, okay? You working hard was just the spark for me." You pecked his lips and cheeks, showering him in affection.

God, you were sweet. His Cerecita.

His hands roamed gently on your lower back. Your brain propped up an idea.

Oh lord, forgive me.

You'd mumble before slowly unbuttoning the front of your dress, His eyes were on you to then follow your chest, they widened with interest as you were freeing your breasts before him. They popped out to his eyes only.

"Imma tell dad about this. Mom needs to calm down."

He didn't hear you quite well, his attention on the pair of soft mounds before him.

You kissed him and stood up, fixing your dress.

"Meet me here tonight? Same time as last time?"

You giggled as you nodded.

You were certainly killing him.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #💋 anon #t writes✨#Miguel Ranchero

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ramayantika · 3 months

Text

Shaam aur Shyam

Krishna’s sakhis have now grown up to become mothers. Vishakha, Kamini, Madhura and other women are now doting mothers to young boys and girls. She has seen how they feed sweet butter and milk to their naughty children, how they lovingly braid their daughters’ hair and scold them when they perform mischief.

The little ones often run to Yashoda’s large cottage, for that is where they find the best butter and cream. The large pillars of Nanda’s house serve as a hiding spot for the children of Vrindavana to play even after Krishna’s departure.

Today is just like any other day. Yashoda has tended to the cows, looked after the grains in the storage and the butter and cream inside the kitchen, which shall be sold the next day.

It is evening. She hears the distant sound of jingling bells. There is an ache in her back because of old age. Though she has helpers but she still prefers doing tasks on her own. Placing her fist on the aching spot, she raises a pot full of white butter and holds it by her hips and hand, her eyes distantly looking at the dusty roads and the green forests of Vrindavana.

One of the helpers carries the butter-laden pot from Yashoda and makes his way to the storage room. His eyes drift towards Yashoda’s face and there is a pitiful smile on his lips before leaving Yashoda to her thoughts.

A fragrant breeze blows by and she can hear the jingling bells nearby. The young mothers of Vrindavana have begun walking outside their houses, their eyes waiting to catch a glimpse of their young cowherds who were gone since daybreak.

Yashoda’s heart thuds. She walks near the window and stares at the distance. Slowly, she sees groups of children with herds of cows emerging from the dense forest. The boys are whistling at the young calves. Some gently pat the soft skin of the cows and lead their way inside the village. The naughtier boys who still haven’t experienced exhaustion go around wrestling with their friends or pranking some poor lads, their enthusiastic laughter drawing a fond smile over Yashoda’s lips.

The boys finally reach their mothers. Some reprimand their boys for wrestling with their finds and getting scratches over their skin. One of them is feeding a delicious looking laddoo. A little girl hugs her brother’s leg.

So many children, so much of love, but there is no sign of her Kanhaiya.

Kanhaiya is now Dwarkadheesh Sri Krishna, married, a kingmaker, and a great politician. Yashoda does keep tabs on her Shyam’s whereabouts though her darling son hasn’t sent any letters after leaving the soil of Vrindavana behind.

The evening sun spreads a warm glow over the quiet and sublime village. Everybody does miss their Krishna, Shyam and Kanhaiya. They no longer talk about him much, just to avoid the pain of separation gnawing at their heart every day, but his friends did make sure that their children will know of their great friend, their Kanha who has made them so proud of the man he has become today.

But what of the mother’s heart? He may be a God to the world, but is her little Krishna for Yashoda. Shyam who would run inside the house after coming from the forests, leaving behind muddy footprints no longer prances around. Kanhaiya no longer plays pranks on the poor innocent milkmaids of Vraja. There is no one to steal butter from, nor there is Murlidhar to play melodious tunes that bring a divine serenity to the soul.

Krishna, her little one, her heart now lives to the western coast of Aryavarta, very far from the land of simple cowherds and milkmaids, away from the sweet innocence of childhood and his mother.

Yashoda’s arms stretch to the air as if her darling would come home rushing to embrace her.

And just like every day in all these years, cold air brushes her arms and warm memories of her sun flit by.

-- XXX --

Sorry for the low quality fic, but i haven't written anything nice for a while. There was a lot of drama in college, hostel and life and couple that with academics and dance practice

This may not punch enough in the guy :(

Taglist: @swayamev @jukti-torko-golpo @navaratna @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @rhysaka @krishna-priyatama @krishakamal @krsnaradhika @kaal-naagin @ramcharantitties @houseofbreadpakoda @aesthetic-aryavartik

#samridhi writes #krishna #fics

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