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freyito · 1 month

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ɢɪʀʟᴅᴀᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛʜɪʟʟ

✩ inspo: RECENT BOOTHILL LEAKS

★ summary: booty as a girldad...

✧ a/n: THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS TO BOOTHILL'S STORY!!!!! THESE ARE BASED OFF OF BOOTHILL LEAKS!!!!!!!!!!! HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!! HEAVY SPOILERS!!!!

also i dont normally write stuff like this but oh my fucking god HE HAD A DAUGHTER. here's the fluff i promised after blue veins i guess. dont get too comfortable with it ;)

✦ like my work? feel free to send a request !

🗒 cw: gn reader, written before boothill release/2.2, BOOTHILL LEAKS, he's a good father. sorta, not proofread

✎ wc: 932

Boothill’s censorship comes in handy with the new addition to the family. Granted, he’s really good with watching himself around kids, regardless. He’s really good with kids, he becomes a softer person around them, even softer than he is with you. He’ll let them hang off his arms and draw things on his body, pick them up, and do that thing where he’ll throw them up in the air, spin them around, anything he can to play with the kids.

He starts to come back from missions faster, and spends more time with you and your daughter. He goes from ‘Trouble waits for no one!’ to ‘Trouble can wait a couple more days…’. He makes any little excuse to see her, and by Aeons, if you need a break, he’s more than happy to step in.

He is a total fashionista, too. He loooooooves dressing his daughter up in cute little dresses and overalls, braiding her hair and tying it up in bows. He’ll also let her play with his hair, no matter how frazzled he comes out. He’s content being her model, allowing her to put makeup on him as well. Sure, he’ll look silly, the brightest light blue eyeshadow caked on his eyelids, baby pink cheeks and deep red lipstick, but he feels pretty.

Of course, Boothill still can’t stay around as much as he’d like, he doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding him. He doesn’t want to risk the IPC finding her, specifically. He is too afraid of reliving the same scene, he often dreams of it, and there are times where he cannot tell the difference between his little girl and what was.

That means he’s protective. Even a little scrape and he’s worried, but he tries his best not to suffocate her. He’s worried, yes, but he gives himself space, for his sake and hers. He knows nothing good can come from an overbearing parent.

When she first started to walk he damn near cried, it was the first time you’ve seen him so soft and sappy. Yes, it was an ugly cry. He told everyone he knew that she WALKED! She walked to him! And he almost cries every time.

He’s also managed to keep the guitar he had made for his daughter, and he gifts it to your guys’ daughter. Not because he hopes that she will grow up to be what was, but because he believes it’s a nice memento. Somewhere out there, she’s watching you two build a family together, and she’s watching your little girl dance and play and giggle and even strum that guitar. And she’s happy.

Speaking of, he loves teaching his daughter guitar. Having her sit in his lap while he just strums, or showing her where to put her tiny fingers for certain notes. She’s not quite able to get it, but she laughs all the same, and that couldn’t make him happier.

Keeps every little drawing she makes up on the fridge. You’re starting to run out of space for magnets. Even if he’s not there, he wants her to know she’s an ARTIST. In every sense of the word. From preschool finger painting to elementary school drawings and so forth. Also keeps some folded up drawings in his wallet. His favorite is a stereotypical children’s drawing of you, him, and the house. Except he’s riding a pretty damn cool metal horse, (she named it ‘verminantor’, because she said it was cool. not ‘terminator’, no. ‘verminator’. make sure you get it right. Yes, Boothill named one of his bikes that) shooting his guns towards the sky. A pretty accurate depiction, you have to say.

He’s also really competitive for her. If she’s in any sports, he’s the dad screaming at the top of his lungs to ‘GO GET EM!!!!’ or ‘WIIIIIN!!!!!!’. He’ll get into verbal scuffles with other parents when they ask him to be quieter, because his baby deserves the best, and if the best is the loudest, then that’s what he’ll be.

Boothill is also an amazing storyteller, he can prattle on and on about whichever star system he’s been in for hours, it’s really handy when sending your daughter to sleep. Other kids really like his stories as well, he does his best to keep away from the violent parts (about 70% of his stories), and focus on how beautiful the planet was, or something like that. Most of the time he’ll pepper in stuff about a prince or a dragon or knights (which turned out to be true) to keep it entertaining, but pg for the kids.

He also spoils his daughter ROTTEN. He’ll come back from his little ‘sidequest’ with a bunch of gifts for both of you. He’s got all sorts of stuffed animals for his daughter, shirts, rocks, literally anything he could find that reminded him of her. Anything he could find that he knew she’d like.

He raises a rough n rowdy kid, essentially. The kind of father to let her roll around in the mud ‘cause she’s just havin’ fun’, who brings bugs home just for fun and names them all sorts of cowboy-esc names, (her favorite being Buck Bucksley– ‘it sounds like pa’s favorite word!’ she says, and you shoot him an angry glare. He looks away and shrugs it off, with a ‘I didn’t do nothin’.’) who’s favorite activity is looking for worms in the dirt, a kid who gets up quickly and dusts herself off when she scrapes her knees. And Boothill’s damn proud of her, absolutely gleaming with joy at any little accomplishment.

#⁺◟freyito #boothill leaks #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #boothill x reader #boothill hsr x reader

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callsignlucky · 2 years

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talk to me, lucky (part 2)

summary: You're Maverick’s kid. You’re also Bradley Bradshaw’s best friend—or at least, you were. What lies between you two now is uncharted territory.

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw/mitchell!reader

wc: 2.3k

a/n: sooooo likeeee i was genuinely expecting like three (3) people to read this. I'm so glad you guys like it, that means the world to me, so I'll continue this little series as long as folks want me to!

This part was purely self indulgent with the goal to make a Pete Maverick Mitchell so dad shaped that it might fix my own daddy issues. (didn't work but a girl can dream.)

Also!! I am purposefully trying not to comment on physical appearance! The reader is female, but her mother is intended to remain ambiguous. There is a lack of accessible fics on this website and want I POC to be able to enjoy this as well!

<- part 1 |part 3 ->

The Hard Deck fell silent as soon as my hand made contact with his cheek. It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. All eyes were on us, but the only ones that mattered to me were Bradley’s.

They were as brown and as big as I remember, and he raised his hand to cup his cheek, brows knitted together in confusion as he stared at me. That only served to make me angrier, and I forced myself to take a step back before I hit him again and got myself into actual trouble. He was at a loss for words, and I was afraid if I said anything I’d reveal more of myself to the pilots to our left than I’d like. Without so much as a murmur of an insult, I turned, collected my phone and keys from the table, and made a beeline for the front door. As I was walking away, I heard Lieutenant Seresin laugh, making some quip to Bradley along the lines of what the hell was that about, Bradshaw?

My eyes found Penny’s, who knew and understood and looked at me with sympathy before patting my dad’s arm in goodbye as he slid off his stool. That made me feel rotten. He’d been so excited to reconnect with Penny, and here I was making a scene and ruining his evening. I bet he was thanking God the last name on my flight suit was my mother’s instead of his.

The air outside had cooled since the sun set, and I managed to speed walk down the block to where I parked my car before a hand caught my arm. I didn’t dare turn around, tears hot in my eyes, my heart still in my chest as I held my breath and waited. Much to my relief, the voice that spoke belonged to my father.

“Why don’t you ride home with me? You’re too upset to drive.” He said softly, and I shook my head, feeling more and more like I was nine years old as the seconds passed.

“I’ll walk.” I snipped, chest tightening with guilt at my tone. I was mad at him too, as much as I hated it. I blamed him for Bradley leaving, all those years ago, but I forgave him after a week. My father was all I had left, and I wasn’t prepared to lose him over an action he felt morally obligated to take. And Uncle Ice might have had something to do with me forgiving him so quickly.

Dad sighed from behind me. “You can’t walk all the way back to the house.”

“Who says I’m going back there?” My voice quivered, and even as he gently tugged on my arm I refused to turn around, arms crossed over my chest. The thought of going back to our base issued housing, that completely staged two bedroom home void of memories or light or emotion or Mom was already suffocating. Dad was quiet for a spell, probably thinking, before he inhaled sharply and spoke up.

“Alright, how about we go to the gas station for some slurpees and drink them at the beach?” His tone was light, and I didn’t have to be looking at him to know he had one eyebrow raised with that little smirk on his face. I perked up a little, and he tossed his arms around my shoulders from behind. “How bout it, Birdie? Or are you too grown to hang out with your old man?” He shook me a little, and I rolled my eyes with a small huff, turning in his arms. He had me with my nickname and he knew it, so I mustered the best pout I could.

“Can I get a large?” I asked, and Dad smoothed down my hair gently with a nod.

“Of course.” He stepped back and held out his hand, waggling his fingers and his brows at the same time. I laughed and rolled my eyes, taking his hand, and together we walked to where he’d found a spot to squeeze his bike. Like all the times I’d had before, I waited until Dad had slung his leg over the bike and walked it backwards before I slid on behind him. My arms wound around his middle and I unceremoniously shoved my face into his back, and I could feel him laugh as he eased the bike into a cruise. One hand came from the handlebar and clasped over mine, and I smiled faintly into the leather of his jacket as we picked up speed down the road.

I was one of the luckiest girls alive to have Pete “Maverick” Mitchell as a father. His military career alone opened more doors for my future than would’ve ever been possible without the Navy. Beyond that, he was—in my humble opinion—the best dad ever. Growing up, my father always put me first. He never accepted a promotion that would take him away from me more than he had to be, and after mom died he accepted a position that essentially grounded him so he could stay stateside, sacrificing his love for flying in order to raise his child.

In those years he never missed a ballet recital or softball game or debate competition, and he always made sure I went on whatever field trips my school was carting us off to. He made sure I had nice clothes and nice shoes and a reliable car and always, always made sure I knew how much he loved me.

Pete Mitchell thought I hung the moon from the second the nurse put me in his arms, and it has been that way ever since. He acted like a loving father should and then some, because that love always translated over to Bradley, too.

It was the same with me. Ever since I learned how to talk, some adult would smile at me and ask me what my daddy did for a living, and I’d smile with all my teeth (some of them missing on occasion) and say “My daddy is a hero!”, and I meant it every single time. I still do.

Dad and I ended up on a slice of beach far from the prying eyes inside The Hard Deck. I abandoned my socks and boots and rolled my jeans up before plunging my painted toes—the only femininity females were allotted in the Navy—into the cooled sand. I balanced my cherry Slurpee between my knees, eyes on the moon as it reflected off the water’s surface. Dad and I sat there in comfortable silence for a long while, just listening to the waves crash in.

“Are you mad at me? For slapping Bradley?” I asked finally, my voice quiet, lips wrapped around my straw. To my right, relaxed in the sand, my father shook his head.

“Not angry, just confused.” He pushed around the blue raspberry slush in his cup with his straw, eyes on the horizon, like always. “I’m trying to understand why you hit him. That’s not like you, and Bradley’s the last person I’d expect you to be violent with. When I saw your pictures next to one another in the debrief, I thought you’d be excited to see him again.”

Guilt hit me like the waves I was staring at. “I was, when I found out B and I both got pulled for this deployment. I was even more excited when I found out you were coming too, but that wore off pretty quickly when I remembered Bradley hasn’t spoken to either of us in years.” I set my cup down and leaned forward, hugging my arms around my thighs and watching my toes wiggle free of the sand before burying them again. “He abandoned us. We’re his family and he left, over something trivial.”

“Have you put yourself in his shoes?” Dad asked, and upon receiving my twisted up nose and furrowed brows in response, he took another sip of his drink before setting it aside and lying back in the sand. He opened up one arm and beckoned me forward, and suddenly I was six years old again after a nightmare as I lay down and rested my head on his stomach. His hand slowly began to work through my hair, his other arm propped beneath his head. “The only memories Bradley has of his old man are ones he learned from everyone else. He knew his dad was a pilot, he knew he was a hero, and as soon as he got old enough, he decided he wanted to follow in his footsteps. That remind you of anyone?”

I closed my eyes with a soft sigh, shrugging my shoulders. “No.” I muttered, folding my arms, and my head bounced with my dad’s little laugh.

“Well,” he drawled, twirling some of my hair around his finger, “it reminds me of Little Mav.” I grinned with my eyes still closed, turning my head away so he wouldn’t see. Little Mav was the nickname I had earned from my father’s fellow service men and women. I was his shadow whenever I could be, accompanying him to work with wide eyed wonder, amazed at all the things he could do. Uncle Ice had originated the nickname when he first met me at the ripe age of three, claiming I was twice the ball of energy that my father was and ten times cuter. I had him wrapped around my finger, too, which came in handy years later when my father tried to prevent me from enlisting. He never tried to pull my papers like he did with Bradley, but he did try and talk me out of it more times than I can count. Eventually he accepted the fact that I was determined to be a pilot, just like him, but was afraid my last name would set me back due to his reputation. While he was highly decorated and well respected within the Navy, the last name Mitchell tended to stiffen the spines and lock the jaws of quite a few admirals. So, thanks to our dearest Admiral Kazansky, I was able to enlist under my mother’s last name. I was grateful for it—the last thing I wanted was to be judged based on who my father was. Or worse yet, to be handed things because my old man was Maverick.

“That still doesn’t excuse what he did.”

“Would you have stuck around if I pulled your papers and set your career back as long as I did Bradley’s? Because believe me, I wanted to.” He wasn’t kidding and I knew it because yes, he never tried to have my enlistment papers pulled, but they had caused more than a few arguments before my father (with the help of his wingman) came to terms that I was a grown adult who made my own choices. It scared the hell out of him, having me up in the air, but he wasn’t going to stand in my way and risk losing me. He’d already learned his lesson with Bradley. I lay there quietly for a long moment, feeling my throat tighten up and my eyes sting with the threat of tears.

“He left us.” I murmured, choking out the last word and it was painful. “I…” Two words followed that, ones that I couldn’t force my mouth or my brain to conjure into reality.

“I know.” My father whispered, smoothing his hand over the top of my head with a heavy sigh, and I was so grateful I didn’t have to say it out loud. “That’s why you have to forgive him.”

“I don’t know how.” I whispered, sitting up when my father did and looking back at him. His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that had escaped, before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“You’ll figure it out, kiddo.” With a grunt he stood, holding a hand down and using it to pull me to my feet. I stooped down and scooped up my shoes and my Slurpee, before an arm was slung around my shoulders and we headed back up the beach. “In the meantime, I’m gonna take you to your car and pay my tab at Penny’s. Don’t wanna get in any more trouble with her than I already am.”

To that I smiled wide up at him. “Ooooh, you have a crush on Penny Benjamin.” I sang teasingly. “Try not to mess it up this time, Pops.” Dad grinned down at me, a look of mock offense on his face as he placed his free hand on his chest.

“Sometimes I think you’re Goose reincarnated.” He mused, and my smile softened. I rested my head on his shoulder, switching my things to one hand so I could wrap an arm around his middle.

“You think he would’ve liked me? Uncle Goose?” I asked quietly, and my dad sighed with a nod, one of those bittersweet smiles on his face.

“Oh, I happen to know for a fact that he loved you.” He squeezed my shoulder and I nodded.

“I’ll have to apologize to him for slapping his son.”

“If Goose is out there somewhere, I’m confident he’d agree that Bradley deserved it.”

I hummed with a slow nod, exhausted. Tomorrow was our first day at TOPGUN, and it was bound to be a big one as I faced the consequences of my action. “I hope Goose is with us. I’ll need him tomorrow.”

“He’ll be there, Birdie.” Dad assured me quietly, and if either of us had been looking up at the night sky, we would’ve seen the shooting star that passed over our heads at my father’s promise.

taglist! :)

love u guys frfr

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw/reader #rooster/reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw/reader #pete maverick mitchell #Pete Mitchell is dad shaped I will die on this hill #rooster top gun #rooster #top gun #top gun imagine #penny benjamin #goose top gun #nick goose bradshaw #tom iceman kazansky

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lady-charinette · 11 months

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Convince me to watch Buddy Daddies, if you please?

*sips tea*

I will make a powerpoint presentation if this very biased, very comprehensive list still doesnt convince you.

Reasons to watch Buddy Daddies:

the songs are catchy (listen to SHOCK by Ayase, you'll be dancing in your living room or crawling on the walls)

its a hitmen trying to parent action rom(?)-com with very relatable fresh parent moments, yakuza domestic violence scenes and a short if on the nose critique on Japan's bogus complicated paperwork process while Kazuki and Rei try to enroll Miri into daycare and forging getting all the neccessary documents and forms together

features a motherly, overzealous best friend with past trauma-coded hitman Kazuki, who's more the 'brains' aka strategist of a hitmen duo together with deadpan, possessed-by-a-cat-spiritiually hikikomori who knows his way better around a gun or 100 than he does in a grocery store Rei.

the best assassin ever doesn't know how to cook for shit, his signature dish is french toast

the mothers of the other kids Miri plays with at daycare oggle Rei and Kazuki (understandable since they're two hot single dads ahem)

there's a mom group chat where the chat explodes with messages like "OIL BARON?! I KNEW THEY SMELLED OF OLD MONEY!", "they r hot :D" & rumors about the family situation in general

the jokes/compliments the mom's give to Rei "he's very cool! he has that hitman aura!"

Miri's biological dad gets killed during a deadly altercation with Kazuki and Rei in a shootout, her only other biological relative is her mom, who abandoned Miri in order to pursue a singing career with an abusive boyfriend but is trying to get around & wants Miri back

Kazuki is a deadly housewife

central themes: family relations, blood doesn't mean shit, the horrendous struggles of raising a kid with 0 knowledge of how to raise kids, sacrifice, implied stigma of two men raising a child alone + stigma against single mothers, generational trauma & overcoming trauma as adults, sometimes the only light at the end of the tunnel is your completely platonic co-worker who offers to cut your hair, a warm bath and gets your life together so you don't die alone

Rei has an undercut

Miri is the cutest ball of energy and sass that only a small child possesses

some boy has a crush on Miri but gets the Death StareTM by her two overprotective Papas

the tough, cutthroat life of a kindergartener

the overlapping themes of how important family is & how biological family can have the types of people in your life you absolutely want and have to cut off in order to be healthy, adjusted adult

love being the driving force to overcome obstacles, grief being the love with nowhere to go and the suffocating emptiness being replaced by a mismatched found family of two assassins and an orphan toddler who cook together and win races together

the food looks good

how grief and generational/familial trauma can cripple people in different ways and how traumatized people can heal together and become each-other's strength

alcohol is not the answer kids (oh and killing too)

the concept of motherhood: Ep 3. feat. Kazuki's sexist comment about mothers that are incapable of hating their own children. Misaki (Miri's mom) resents her daughter for destroying her dreams, Kazuki says that raising a kid is supposed to come naturally to a mother. He changes his tune later when he sees how difficult it is raising Miri & how Misaki genuinely tried until she was disappointed and traumatized by her own life & the arrival of an unwanted child.

the concept of fatherhood as introduced by Miri: "A papa is someone who will save you from trouble!". Whereas the fathers through the rest of the cast can be either described as "tormenters", "absent" or "sir"s.

good character building for almost all the characters

Bad Guy Ogino gets killed in a very poetic way, *mwah*

speaking of: creepy assassin Ogino keeps a notebook of people he's killed & what their last words were. Basically the teenage girl journaling experience but for deranged assassins

all in all you'll fall in love with the characters and laugh and cry until you dehydrate yourself

Send me another ask if you end up watching it & tell me what you think! :D

#buddy daddies #bd #miri unasaka #kazuki kurusu #rei suwa #anime rec #ask #anon ask #anon

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spells-and-liquid-luck · 1 year

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A part 2 to the snape daughter selling potions; free basically (planning with George) say they'll tell her dad about her secret business if she doesn't go to the yule ball with Fred. she grudgingly agrees, (she's friendly with him, a very younger teasing sibling vibe) and her dad basically freaks out in the calm snape way. she just replies with 'you wouldn't get it, it's young people stuff' and leaves her dad wondering if he was like that

Potions & Promises - Fred x Snape's Daughter

Can I get a dreamless sleep potion? I've been having really strange dreams that the gnomes that I had de-gnomed from his garden last week had been chasing me with tiny little pitchforks." Ron explained his dream with sheepishly. Those dreams were so strange that he almost didn't want to help Hagrid in slight fear that the gnomes would actually make an army and decide to attack him.

She couldn't help but to give him a questioning look as her brain pictured his dream. "Um, surr. Here you go Weasly." She handed him the potion vile as he handed her the money and he quickly jogged away, but as everyone knew where there was a Weasly, there were always more close by.

"Hey, Ms. Snape." He teased as she rolled her eyes. "Do you need something or are you going to stand next to me all day?" She jokingly asked which made George lightly chuckled as his lips curled into a mischievous smile.

"I have a proposition for you." He wrapped his long arm around her shoulders. Her eyes squinted in an annoyed glare.

"I already told you. We will not be in business together. I really don't need you making potions that will accidentally blow someone up." Her eyebrows slightly raised in concern as she thought of the very real possibility or this happening.

"It's not about that. It's something else, and I'm sure you would love it." His excited demenor scared her a little because the twins were known to have very outlandish ideas. "Uh yeah sure." She said with pure sarcasm which failed to catch George's attention as he was way too happy about his idea even if it sounded absolutely ridiculous.

"How would you like to be the lucky girl who goes with Fred to the Yule Ball?" She laughed which took George by surprise. "Do you really think I'm planning on going to the ball? I'm busy and besides I don't want to be around so many people it'll be suffocating." She huffed.

"Aw c'mon. It'll be good for you, and Fred hasn't asked anyone yet. You don't have to kiss him or anything. Just go, even if it's just a friendly favor." She thought about it do a moment. It's not like she didn't like Fred, infact she had been harboring feelings for him since her 3rd year. "Ballrooms aren't really my scene." She said with hesitancy. "That's fine, then I'll just tell your dad that you're breaking school rules and having a side potions business." George stated in a matter-of-fact tone. Her eyes held nothing but panic. "You wouldn't." She warned. "How do you know that I wouldn't?" His teasing tone was enough to sway her, even if she called it a bluff. She really didn't know if he would really say anything to her father, but she did know how hard it was for him to keep a secret.

She lifter her hands up in surrender. "Fine. Fine. I'll go, but I'm doing this as a favor." "Uh-huh." George teased not believing her. He may joke a lot, but he was observant. A pink blush dusted her cheeks, but George managed to not see.

George smiled as he held out his hand for her to shake. "I did say this was a proposition, so you have to make if official." She laughed at his business-like gesture and shook his hand.

George quickly ran up to the dorms as quickly as possible to tell Fred the news. "Looks like you're not going to the Yule Ball completely alone Freddie." George looked up from his book. "What do you mean Georgie? Has someone asked me? He looked up at his twin with a puzzled yet amused expression as he began to sit upright I'm his seat.

"I may have noticed you taking a liking to none other than professor Snape's daughter, so I may have pulled some strings with her and she has agreed to go with you. She said as a favor, but I can tell she like you too." His tone was teasing and his face held a cool expression as he casually stated that Fred's longtime crush has agreed to go to the ball with him.

"Well, if she agreed, then that's excellent, but I feel like I should talk to her myself don't you think? Fred stated in a hurry as he quickly put his jacket on. "Fred, wait. Here. I got these before I came here to tell you." He handed some really pretty purple flowers. "She loves purple." Fred said with a smile. He took the flowers and quickly exited the room and walked down the halls of the stone walled castle with a suffer sense of confidence as he went looking for her. His quest to find her came to an end as he saw her in the courtyard talking to some students. It looked like she was about to leave for class, so he picked up his pace to go meet with her. "Hey Fred. She greeted him smiling. "Hello." He replied back. "Have you heard that I'm your date to the ball?" She smirked as she teased him and watched his face go from elated to slightly panicked as his face began to match the color of his hair.

"I have heard, but I thought that I should ask you formally myself. It's the principle of the y'know. Can't have a lady thinking that I'm lacking in manners. He tried to sound like his usual confident self, but the feeling of his heart was about to beat out of his chest as he felt the anxiety fill his veins.

She looked up at him and nodded. "Alright then, go ahead." She smiled in amusement. He nodded and jokingly cleared his throat. "Will you please do me the great honor of being my date to the Yule Ball? He quickly put his hand out carrying the lilac flowers. Her eyes lit up when she saw the flowers as Fred handed them to her. "Yes, I will go to the Yule Ball with you." She replied. "In all seriousness, I promise it won't be as bad as you think. I know you weren't planning to go, but I'll try to make it as painless as possible."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He put his hand on his heart for emphasis.

"Pinky swear?" Fred looked at her in confusion. "Pinky swear? What is that?"

She held her Pinky out and grabbed his hand. His heart rate picked up again as he tried to hide his forever crush on his friend.

"You're supposed to wrap your pinky around mine to make it official. It's a muggle thing. I thought Harry or Hermione would have taught you this by now." She said with laugh.

"I also promise that ai will tey to have fun and will he the prettiest that I have ever looked considering you see me in my Hogwarts uniform 80% of the time. He smiled kindly at her as he examined her hand as they let go of their pinkies and kissed the back of her hand. As he let go, he said the words that changed how she felt about him almost instantly. "Darling, if you looked any prettier you would be mistaken for an angel.' She felt that this was the moment. The moment that she'll remember for a lifetime. The moment that she fell in love with a Weasly, but of course it wasn't in her nature to say such a thing out loud. Instead, a sly grin made its way across her face. "I didn't know you had such feelings for me." She teased. "How long have you felt this way? Maybe since my first year here huh? Did you see a white light cascading around me when I entered the great hall for the first time letting you know that you fell hopelessly in love with me." She clasped her hands together near her heart to add to the dramatics. "Please don't make me regret asking you to the ball." He groaned as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, c'mon Fred! You know you're just dying to kiss me." She teased again again a smile. Her smile soon faded as she was meeting the eyes of a familiar gaze. "What was that?" The voice of her father rang out in an irritated tone.

"Nothing, dad. You know..it's just stupid teenage stuff. You wouldn't understand." She did as she waved him off and she briskly began walking away.

"Weasly." He called out. "Yes, Professor. Fred answered, almost stuttering on each syllable. "I'm watching you." Is all he said and walked away. Snape stopped at a nearby corridor as he stood with a small grin thinking back to when he began to have those feelings about a girl.

Tag list: @flamey-0

#hogwarts #snape x daughter #fred x reader #thanks for the ask!

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wktlltkw · 5 months

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David from afraid of monsters and my hcs.

I barely found the strength to write about David. I tried to translate this text, so I hope that the English here sounds good. I'm sorry for the mistakes.

‼️TW: "happy" house (I'm not sure, if I should write there tw or not)

___

—David, you know that he won’t come? — this woman is again trying to convince me of something... I knew that this was not so. I'm not little anymore. I'm already thirteen.

—Call him, please. Mom, — I didn’t stop trying. I repeated the same thing over and over again, as if she didn’t understand anything, — call him. Mom, I'm begging you. Call him.

—He doesn’t need you, David, don’t you understand? — no, I don’t understand this. I don’t want to understand this, and even if this is so, let him say it himself. Let him say something, damn it, and not remain silent.

—Mom. Call him. Give me your phone and I'll call myself. Mom, — I don’t know if it was weakness, but asking again and again, I feel as if she is suffocating me. It was as if she had picked up the phone and wrapped this thin wire around my neck, just so that I would shut up and stop pestering her. But we both know that I won’t leave behind. Even if you strangle me, I will do the same and ask again. You know that, mom? The lump in my throat makes me raise my voice in emotion.

—Okay, — okay?

Mom, standing with her arms crossed, walked to the shelf where our home phone stood with a dissatisfied face. She dialed the numbers, pressing the receiver to her ear. Even from a distance I could hear beeps. Even from here I could hear her calm breathing. The silence was becoming too loud, and I was just trying to hold back so as not to make a scene again.

—Hello? — her voice sounded calm, but with irritation. I know you're tired of me. But I'll be leaving soon. And you will be left alone, mom. And your house will rot without me. Like all your bile. I'll leave soon.. — Have you forgotten that you have a son? You could have called at least once, — I didn’t like it when they quarreled. I immediately approached, extending my hand. I wanted to talk to him before he hung up, before he got angry about her. — I’ll give him the phone now, — it seems as if I can’t even breathe. The phone was in my hands. I heard someone else's breathing on the other end of the line.

—Hello? Dad? — my hands were shaking.. I tried to fix my gaze on the thin wire that I wanted to wrap around my throat myself, but I only wound it around my finger. Scary.

—Hello, what did you want? — dad. I dreamed of hearing his voice for so long, but now I don’t feel such joy. This is not enough.. This is terribly little.

—When do you come? I'm on vacation from school now, you promised that you would take me away for the winter.. Do you remember?

—David, how old are you? — I don’t believe in this caress. I don't believe he will say anything that will make me happy.

—I don’t understand, what kind of question is this? Dad?

—You are already a grown-up boy. Take care of your mom, you are such a friendly family, right? I won’t come, I.. — I didn’t let him finish and hung up.

—I told you, — my mother’s voice was very close.

—Go to hell, — I said nothing more. I returned to my room.

That evening I did not spare my hands. I didn't care that I could cause serious injury or just be left with scars. I wanted to break all my knuckles, I wanted to break my fingers, otherwise not my mother, not the wire, but I would strangle myself. I'm not a part of this family anymore.

#aom david #david leatherhoff #afraid of monsters #cry of fear #writing #writers on tumblr #fandom #fanfic

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ageofpiracyrp · 1 year

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Theo Seong

Pronouns: He/him

Role: Entertainer (musician)

Age: 28

Romantic and/or Sexual Preference: Gay

Species: Erkuss

Home Planet: Kraysha

Faceclaim/Humanoid Appearance: Hwang Inyeop

True Appearance: His eyes are red.

Backstory: As a child, Theo had big dreams that would hopefully take him far away from home, where his entire life was already decided for him–take over the family business. Theo wanted more than that though. He wanted to bring the used guitar he spent years saving money for around Kraysha and perform the songs he wrote in the safety of his bedroom. He wanted to experience something new and be known as someone other than the local diner owner’s son, but that wasn’t the life his dad wanted for him.

The Sunrise Diner was almost like his father’s actual first born son. He poured nearly all of his savings into the old, run-down restaurant with an apartment above it and redid the entire space himself, trying his best to create the perfect life for his family. He had the idea to tap into Kraysha’s fascination with Earth media and recreated a traditional 50’s American-style diner, down to the checkerboard floor, red booths, and the jukebox in the corner. To Theo’s father, they were living in his proudest working. However, to Theo, it was suffocating and only reminded him that if he didn’t take his life into his own hands then he was destined to become the owner of The Sunrise Diner. “This will all be yours one day, Theo,” his father used to tell him, as if another option didn’t exist.

When Theo finally finished his certifications, he had his sights set on Different City where he would try to get into the music scene. When Theo broke the news, it was the first time he and his father really fought, but it was enough to break their relationship. Theo kept all that resentment and desire for something different buried for so long that it exploded out of him the moment his dad told him he couldn’t go to Different City. His dad always assumed he would follow the path he laid out for his son. He assumed Theo was happy at home. Theo was too afraid of disappointing him to correct him–until he saw his one chance to leave being taken away from him. He didn’t need his father’s approval, he had money set aside for the move, so he packed his bags, his guitar, and hopped on a bus to Different City.

At first, it felt like Theo was living his dream. Different City gave him the opportunity to meet people from not only all over the Maeyr, but all over Kraysha. His new found freedom allowed him to experience music in a way never could at home. He could go to open mic nights, concerts, and audition for bands. It was everything he could ever hope for, but he had lost his father in the process.

That idyllic picture of his future crumbled when reality kicked in, and he realized that just because could play guitar and sing didn’t mean he was going to be anything other than a broke wannabe musician. Record companies didn’t even listen to his demos before tossing them aside, and the closest he ever got to fame was open mic nights at dingy bars or busking on the streets. Still, Theo stubbornly stayed put, refusing to return to Rungung with his tail between his legs. He would rather be a failure in Different City than stuck in The Sunrise Diner.

When Theo received the news that his father died of a heart attack, he suddenly realized how much time he wasted being stubborn. They never repaired their relationship, and Theo would never get the chance to. His dad was just gone, and he was his only family left. The only thing he left behind was his precious diner. Maybe it was grief or maybe it was a reality check, but Theo finally left behind his life in Different City to return to the home he used to resent so much. It felt like he had to honor his father somehow, and the only way he could imagine making up for those lost years was to take over his diner.

His father’s ghost was all over his diner, every piece of him ingrained in the wood and décor, and Theo felt like he had to preserve it exactly as it was. Since the day Theo’s father opened the restaurant, the menu and the interior never changed, and they had almost the same employees, so it wasn’t hard for Theo to do what his dad always planned for him–step into his shoes and take over the business. It wasn’t at all what he wanted, he missed music, but he was so overcome with the guilt over never rekindling their relationship that he felt like he had to stay. He sucked it up and dealt with it for about two years, until one day Henry Astrea, his ex-boyfriend’s father, gave him Robin’s phone number to reconnect. He learned all about Robin’s life on the Prosperity, traveling the galaxy to smuggle goods. It wasn’t a life Theo ever considered for himself, but when he found out there was a need for a musician, he felt that urge to run away all over again.

Theo never fully made peace with the loss of his dad, and he didn’t want to disappoint him by giving up on the diner again, but his dad was gone. He was never coming back, and Theo couldn’t sacrifice his happiness for closure that he was never going to get. He sold The Sunrise Diner to one of his dad’s most faithful employees, Bonnie Derringer, and applied for the position on the Prosperity, ready to give music a second chance.

Skills: Theo has the typical erkuss abilities, like shared memories and electro-magnetisim. He’s also a talented singer, song-writer, and guitarist. He’s a good cook after learning from his dad, and obviously his specialty is American breakfast food. If Al ever needs help with pancakes, Theo is his man.

Played by Sarah; 30 ; she/her; mountain time

#erkuss #character: theo seong #entertainer #Taken

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iridescentlemoncandy · 2 years

Text

Trajectory - Raising Hell [Osborn]

Part 2: 10 Years Ago, Midsummer

"He would eventually abandon me, too."

TW: Sexual Abuse, Death, Gun, Blood, Knife, Violence

It had been four years since I first moved in with Ye Chuan.

When a mother and son moved into the neighbourhood not too long ago, the rumours around me began to circulate again. They said I was an orphan and a monster that no one wanted. My parents supposedly gave up on me because I am so incredibly bad-behaved, as they put it.

I've always ignored the disdainful glances people have cast my way. They couldn’t hurt me. I realised that the ones at fault were not myself but rather the others. But I couldn't help but think about the rumourmongers right before bed. It made me think about the people they mentioned in those rumours. Over time, I began to feel angry at myself for even considering it.

Did I not just say that we would have nothing further to do with one other? How come I kept having dreams about them? Were those years of happiness with them the reason? If complete strangers heard my story, I figured they'd be furious and condemn them as unfit to be parents. Their departure was, in any case, greatly anticipated. It would be fitting if there were reports of their unfortunate demise one day. In no way could I afford to miss them.

For this reason, I would always feel an immense amount of self-loathing whenever I woke up from a dream involving them. I despised my own contradictory nature. Morally, I should despise them, so I couldn't tell anyone else. The more I isolated myself, the less I wanted to talk to anyone. I was on the lookout for a safe haven where I could either completely conceal myself or feel safe enough to reveal any and all details of my life. Sooner or later, I'll get out of here and find that place of freedom.

Hence, even after Ye Chuan repeatedly asked that I call him "dad," I proceeded always just to call him by his name.

I knew, deep down that he would abandon me soon after. I wasn't under any pressure to try extra hard to win his approval out of fear of being abandoned. But I know that he might not love me if I didn't act this way. Over and over, I assured him that if he ever had second thoughts, he could always get rid of me. Because I didn't want to come home to an empty house after school.

These four years, I had been counting down the days until that day finally came—until I was in junior high.

In regard to my education, I'd never let Ye Chuan have any say. He was quite conscientious, acting as a responsible parent figure. Even if I got myself into some serious problems, he wouldn't be there to bail me out. There had never been a feeling of freedom like it. And the more they told me to stop being such a wild monster, the more satisfied I became. It was as if I was no longer held hostage by this world.

When I sat on the school fence and took in the sky at twilight, I was able to let go of the remembrance of aimless wandering and the irrational desire for mutually assured destruction. I managed to get through it.

A piano tone suddenly came into my ears. It sounded rushed and discordant. Listening to it for too long will make you feel like you're being suffocated.

I had to get in there and see what was going on. It was the school’s music room. There was a tiny gap between the door and the frame, so I peered inside. Despite the passage of time, I could still vividly recall the scene. I could see an opened piano lid. The principal was sitting on the stool. There was a female student in school uniform in his arms.

The student's cries were muffled as the notes he played built to a crescendo. Suddenly, I recalled the boys’ discussion from this morning's class: "The Piano Room Game." Whenever they mentioned it, they would cover their mouths and laugh in a sleazy manner. Finally, I was starting to get it: this is what they meant by the piano room game.

All of a sudden, my throat felt constricted. With a feeling of nausea rising in my stomach, I hurried to the nearest sideway and almost threw up from disgust. I hadn't given Old Man Chen much thought lately, but I immediately recalled the night he became a corpse, where there was festering frostbite on his face. According to the two persons, Old Man Chen passed away before they were there. His body succumbed to the cold.

I dragged him to the hospital door by pulling on his empty sleeve as if I were pulling on two ropes. The distance, thankfully, wasn't too far. I couldn't help but turn around and take one more glance as I left. I noticed the two trailing footprints on the ground, leading to Old Man Chen's shoulder from his head as if he hadn't lost his arms. As I continued to look at it, I imagined them rising and clasping the principal's throat in a death grip. It was so constricting that it turned crimson and eventually collapsed.

When I told a teacher, he gave me a reassuring look and said that the whole thing was merely a mentorship. I stood there for a long time before realising that something was seriously wrong with this establishment. It was rotten to the core.

And they can rot all they want; I will never submit to such idiocy.

Later that evening, I made a choice. I emptied the chamber of Ye Chuan's homemade wooden rifle. It looked remarkably similar to the appearance of a real gun.

I scaled the fence surrounding the campus. With the gun in my hand, I picked up the pace. The sound of the waves striking the window made me feel increasingly rebellious. I will use my own flesh and blood to sever this tendon in its entirety, reversing the balance of power, exposing their corruption, and leading them to their demise.

“Don’t move!” I pointed the gun in his direction and gestured to the table, telling him to write down his offences.

To my surprise, he didn't put up much of a fight and just did what I asked, clearly convinced that my gun was real. The shock made him appear helpless, leading me to believe he was. Maybe he was simply having a moment of confusion and would come to his senses soon. As I reluctantly put the rifle down, blood spurted from the back of my hand. Behind the knife is a satisfied look, indicating that it was a deliberate act.

There was a cost to my compassion. When I was forced to the floor, I considered the situation amusing. Even though the other party's intention was clearly to kill me, I still thought about the possibility of forgiving them.

I was trampled so hard it hurt, but it awakened me more. Only one thing came to me when I thought about regrets. No, I refused to destroy myself. I will take up my spear once more and vanquish them.

Part: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6]

#light and night #osborn #xiao yi #光与夜之恋 #萧逸

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ittybittywordsmith · 2 years

Text

couple of modern day moses’ searching for the promised land

CHAPTER ONE

Ms. Mariana Navarro James 1632 Mulligan Street New York, NY WZ10023

Ms. Navarro James,

On behalf of the Magical Congress of the United States of America, the Department of Magical Security has reviewed your application and is pleased to invite you to join us at the Auror Academy this coming fall. We are thrilled for you to join the ranks of the nation’s bravest and brightest. We look forward to your attendance on September 1st.

Mariana Navarro James has always known that she wanted to be an auror. She had declared it with utmost confidence to every vocational counselor, friend, and nosy old biddy who had inquired about her future since she was five. And of course, how could she not? What else could a kid ever dream of being when they had the Director of Magical Security as their dad and grew up snuggled against his chest, listening to him recount his adventures of the week?

(It was only in the last year or two that it had occurred to Mari that perhaps her father had tidied the stories he told her, sanitizing reality until it was an appropriate bedtime tale for a little girl. She had taken some advanced History of Magic courses in her last few years at school and had eventually come to the realization that some of the more terrible events in their recent history didn’t match what she thought she knew. Sometimes the bad guys won. Sometimes the good guys never made it home again. Sometimes the mundane becomes a nightmare. That thought had shaken her a little, but then again, she supposed they weren’t known as the nation’s bravest for nothing, were they?)

In the end, it wasn’t just the stories or the long shadow of Scott James that had drawn her to this field. Mari was eighteen, fresh out of Ilvermorny, and certain she knew what she wanted from her life. She wanted excitement, she wanted adventure, she wanted meaning. She wanted to know that the things she did made a difference. And the letter Mari had just opened in the foyer with trembling hands – it was everything she knew she wanted. The first step of the rest of her life.

So, quite rationally, her first reaction was to stuff the letter in her sweater pocket and dart out the front door before anyone had even seen that she had come home.

Mari rushed down the sidewalk she had jogged up only a few minutes before, trying hard to not look too much like she was fleeing the scene of a crime. She had no idea where she was going – only that she needed distance, room to breathe before she suffocated to death. She turned random corner after random corner with no specific location in mind, and eventually her panicked heartbeat began to calm. She drew in deep, needy breaths and slowed down, but she continued to let her feet take her where they would. What was she doing? Why was she being like this? It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected the acceptance letter, of course she had. Her dad would have told her if anything had gone wrong with her application process–

A car honked aggressively, followed by an impressive amount of swearing, and Mari jumped, jostled out of her thoughts. She blinked and looked around, taking in her surroundings for the first time since she’d run out of the townhouse. Oh. She’d somehow made it into the city proper. She must have been walking longer – or perhaps just faster – than she’d realized, to have made it this far. She almost never came out this far into the city on her typical runs. Usually she liked to use running as a way to clear her head, but the noise and distraction of the congested New York streets battled with the noise and distraction in her own thoughts, almost always resulting in nothing more productive than a pounding migraine.

Mari began to slow down, to let her brain catch up to what her feet had been doing, and was immediately shoulder checked by a woman behind her with a large purse, complete with very sharp brass hardware. “Ow!” she complained as the purse’s buckle smacked her hard enough to leave a bruise. The woman didn’t even glance back. Mari scowled, but kept up the pace to avoid being run over by anyone else. It was only a momentary distraction, but in that moment, the realization of where she had subconsciously been heading smacked into her harder than the purse.

Oh. Duh. Jacob’s apartment was only a few more miles away.

In the couple years since her brother had moved out of the townhouse, Mari had rarely gone to visit him on foot. There was a period of time after she’d gotten her Apparition license where she’d taken to popping up right in the middle of his living room, but it hadn’t lasted long – Jacob had instituted a ‘Front Door or Floo Entry Only’ policy after she’d caught him eating cold pasta in his boxers for the third time. Still, Mari felt pretty confident that she was going the right way as she took in her bearings with this new context. Oddly, she found that having this destination alleviated some of the pressure on her chest. Taking a deeper, steadier breath, Mari increased her speed to an easy jog and wound her way up the streets of New York.

It didn’t take long to find the right building. Mari jogged to the front door and punched a code into the adjacent keypad – a code, mind you, that her brother had no idea she knew, which she took as concrete evidence that she would be great at investigative work.

The door swung open with a short, sharp beep!, and as she ducked inside, Mari caught her reflection in the window. She wrinkled her nose. Her hair was back to its natural color – a mousy dark blonde that Mari insisted automatically made her fifteen percent more boring in any conversation. She had gotten the hang of changing her hair color on a whim and keeping it that way without much thought before she’d even started school, but sometimes when her attention was thoroughly engrossed elsewhere, she slipped and the natural color came seeping back without her even noticing. That wasn’t something she was willing to deal with today.

Mari glanced around the lobby – once she was suitably convinced that she was alone, she closed her eyes and concentrated. With a little pop! that was almost definitely just in her mind, she felt the change take over. She glanced back in the window, and her reflection this time was sporting her pulled back ponytail in her preferred color of bubblegum pink. She managed a little smile.

Much better.

Turning on her reflection, Mari bounded up the stairs two at a time. By the time she made it to the fourth floor, she was wheezing – she leaned against the railing for a moment, fighting for her breath. It had been unnecessary and had certainly worked up a sweat, but it made her feel better to have a reason she understood for her erratic heartbeat. Mari gave herself ten seconds for her breathing to become less dramatic before she pushed herself off the railing and stumbled down the hall. She knocked at the door marked 4D and leaned heavily against the doorframe while she waited, her gaze down to the floor as she regulated her breath. One breath. Two breaths. Three. Then the door swung open.

Mari glanced up, a flippant greeting to her brother already on her lips – and immediately, she found herself snapping ramrod straight. “Atticus!” she said in a bit of a gasp. “. . . hi!”

Stupid, Mari chastised herself. Stupid, stupid. It had never occurred to her that her brother’s roommate might answer the door, and now here she was in front of him, sweaty and breathing hard and probably not the best she had ever smelled. Rationally, Mari knew it was a dumb thing to be worried about – she’d known Atticus Prewett since she was a little kid, from back when Jacob first started bringing friends home to visit over the summer. He’d certainly seen her in worse states, but that didn’t mean Mari wasn’t cursing herself for not taking the extra minute to lengthen her eyelashes or make her breasts a little perkier when she was fixing her hair downstairs.

Atticus blinked blearily at her, tugging absently at his worn, crinkled shirt. Clearly, she’d woken him up – probably better for him, really, since it wasn’t exactly what Mari would call early in the day. He gave her a lazy, somewhat confused smile, and even with the disorientation in his expression, Mari felt her stomach do a small flip in response. “Uh, g’morning?” he said, half reply, half question. He glanced over his shoulder at the fireplace in the living room, dark with cold ashes. “Is our floo out again or something?”

Mari felt her cheeks flush, but tried to comfort herself that, after her sprint up the stairs, she was probably already so red with exertion that he wasn’t likely to notice the difference. The thought wasn’t all that comforting. “Uh, n-no, I, um. . . I was, y’know, just in the neighborhood,” Mari stuttered, embarrassed. She shifted back and forth from her heels to her toes, awkward, before the words she needed finally came to her. She looked past Atticus into the apartment. “So, uh, is Jacob up yet?”

To her surprise, his expression fell. Mari’s brow furrowed slightly and she nearly asked if Jacob was alright, but Atticus spoke first. “No, he’s been at Vanessa’s all week,” he replied with a shrug. “He hasn’t been around much lately.”

“Oh,” Mari replied, her voice hitching a little in surprise and disappointment. Jacob had always been good to talk to. He never got impatient with her rambling, no matter how many tangents she went on – it was why, when her head had finally cleared enough for her to figure out where she was going, she had come here. Jacob had always had time for her. . . except, of course, that had been before he’d gotten himself a girlfriend. Pursing her lips, Mari considered heading back home – but the thought sent a panicky thrum through her chest, and she knew right then that she wasn’t ready for the scene that awaited her at home, when her parents found out she’d gotten her acceptance letter. No, Mari couldn’t go home, not yet. . . her gaze fell back to Atticus, still looking a bit like an abandoned puppy.

Well, she was already here, wasn’t she?

Mari walked past Atticus into the apartment, perfectly uninvited. “Got any water?”

Atticus looked after her with a frown. “Sure, come on in, I guess,” he muttered under his breath before closing the door. He made his way into the kitchen. “Tap okay with you?” Mari gave an acquiescent shrug in response. She was parched enough now that he could have juiced a shoe into a glass in front of her, and she still would have drank it. He grabbed a somewhat dingy looking glass from a shelf and filled it in the sink before passing it to her.

Mari took it with a nod of thanks and perched herself on a wobbly barstool, looking around as she rehydrated. She caught sight of the living room – there were scattered sketchbook pages everywhere, covered with half-realized drawings, and a crumpled blanket and pillow on the couch. She raised an eyebrow and looked back at her begrudging host. “What, did you sleep there last night?”

Atticus cringed and raised an arm to run a hand through his dark hair, exposing a few inches of midriff. Mari tried not to be too obtuse as she stared, but subtlety had never been a great skill of hers. She’d have to work on that at the Academy. “Uh – more like I slept there this morning,” he admitted, looking a little sheepish. “I sort of hit a block with the novel, and I was up all last night trying to figure it out. All I managed was a pile of wasted paper. Normally I would have bounced ideas off of Jake, but. . . y’know. . . he’s been preoccupied. . .”

Oh, the novel.

Mari couldn’t help a sympathetic look. Jacob and Atticus had been working on a graphic novel together since they were sixteen and now, seven years later, it was still coming along at a trudge. Jacob was the writer, Atticus was the artist – and what an artist Atticus was, although Mari could never admit that out loud without sounding like a doe eyed lovesick schoolgirl. Jacob was good at what he did too, she guessed, and for a while, it had almost seemed like they might be able to actually put something together. But then they had their graduation exams, and then they’d had to go out into the world and find jobs, and then Jacob started his apprenticeship with their grandfather, and then he met Vanessa Thornwood (who Mari was convinced stole her brother’s heart, brain, and testicles to keep in a bottle around her neck), and the longer time when on, the more progress had slowed to an almost nonexistent crawl.

And yet, neither of them could give up on it. Certainly not Atticus, if his expression of tired frustration was anything to go off of. “What do you think the problem is?” Mari asked gently, her own problems already fading to a distant glimmer in her mind.

“I don’t know,” Atticus sighed, leaning against the counter with a defeated hunch to his shoulders. “I think I’m just. . . in a rut? I don’t feel like I have any new ideas, or at least, nothing worth playing out. So maybe – maybe that’s it. Maybe I’ve just used them all up?” Mari sipped her water and nodded sagely, trying not to overthink the situation. She knew Atticus only saw her as his best friend’s little sister – or, worse, as practically his own little sister. The vulnerability he was showing now was the kind that you can only get between childhood friends who have known each other almost as long as they’ve known themselves, the ones who have seen you at your worst and most embarrassing. It was the way he would have opened up to Jacob, or any of their old school friends, nothing more. He sighed again. “I know that must sound dumb – but it’s like I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

Without thinking, Mari reached out a hand to rest comfortingly on Atticus’s arm. He didn’t even glance up at her touch. “It’s not dumb,” Mari said firmly, before taking a second to reconsider. “Or, well, it does sound kinda stupid–” That got his attention, and Atticus looked up at her, looking vaguely hurt. Mari winced. Oh Circe help her, why was she so bad at this? “What I mean is, uh – maybe you just need some new inspiration. Go see some new sights, hear some new sounds. Have an adventure or something. You can. . . refill the barrel, or whatever you artist types need to do.”

Atticus scoffed lightly, looking at her like she’d just suggested they picnic on the moon – a lovely idea, of course, but completely unrealistic. “I can’t just up and ‘have an adventure’, Mar. I’ve got, like, adult shit to take care of. I have a job. I have rent. And besides, what about Jake? He’ll be at your granddad’s all summer, preparing new wands for the next school year. And all of his free time is going to be spent mooning over Vanessa. It’s not like I’m going to be able to convince to just up and leave for a month–”

“So? Who needs him?” Mari replied with a sniff, slightly less enthused now that her heartfelt suggestion had been met with stark incredulity. Still, she persevered. “And I know you have all that grown-up bullshit to deal with, but come on – that’s just an excuse. You can find someone to stay in your place for a month or two, some rich kid right out of Ilvermorny or something. And as for your job, you hate that place anyways.”

Atticus blinked in surprise. “How did you know that?”

Mari tapped the top of her nose playfully and winked. “A lady never reveals her sources.” The truth was Mari only had one source, and it was Jacob, who tended to relent information after an extended period of constant annoying questions. That was how she knew that Atticus had for a short (and surely meaningless) while dated the lovely hostess at the fancy white tablecloth restaurant he waited at. That was also how she knew they had broken up six months ago, and he still had to see both her and the bartender he’d caught her with every day when he went to work. After that, it was only a hop, jump, and skip away from the conclusion that Atticus probably hated his job.

See? She was good at sleuthing.

As for her current proposition, Atticus still didn’t look convinced. Mari had only been talking out of her ass, really, when she’d originally made the suggestion – but the more they went back and forth, the more sure she felt that this was the right option and the more determined she was to make Atticus see that as well. Her mind, unbidden, went back to the folded up acceptance letter in her pocket, and her breath hitched for just a moment. Was it possible that she could kill two birds with one stone? Before she could doubt herself, Mari spoke again, trying not to sound too eager. “What if– what if we . . . ran away? Together?”

Atticus looked at her sharply, clearly alarmed, and seemed to notice for the first time that she was touching him. He pulled away from her gently and shifted to put some distance between them. “Mari. . .”

Panic flooded her system and Mari launched into damage control mode. “Not like that!” she blurted out sharply, her voice a little higher than usual. She winced and cleared her throat before pushing through in a voice that was a closer approximation to her usual, casual tone. “I meant, uh– you’re not the only one who could use a change of scenery, y’know. I want to spend my last summer of freedom doing something– something totally insane. I want to be crazy and spontaneous one last time before I’m tied down with all of that bullshit too, and I can’t just live my life anymore. So. . . what if we went off on separate adventures, together? Just to keep each other company and make sure the other is alright and stuff? Would that be so bad?”

Atticus still looked dubious. “You don’t have school friends your own age that you would rather do this with? One last hurray and all that jazz?”

And honestly. . . Mari didn’t. Oh, sure, she had friends and all that, she wasn’t a complete loner – Vee would be down to go to Hell and back as a lark, if she asked, and the girls from her dorm were always up for a good time. But if she took this trip with them, it would wind up being something silly and juvenile – one last beat of her school days before she gave it all up. The idea of going with Atticus. . . that felt different. Bigger. Like– like the first step of the rest of her life?

(Mari might have laughed then, at how that thought now in this ridiculous context didn’t scare her nearly as much as the same thought she’d had earlier this morning, but she didn’t want to freak Atticus out by explaining, so she held herself back.)

“Nope,” Mari replied cheerily, completely confident. “Can’t think of anyone.” Atticus rolled his eyes and looked away from her, his gaze settling on the window. The view wasn’t much, just the gray stone of the too close building beside them, but Mari could tell he wasn’t really looking at it. He was considering her offer, really considering it. . . and in his own way, she could tell he needed this as badly as she did. He just needed one last push. She gave him a few moments of peace, and then wheedled in a singsong voice, “Also, I have a bank account my parents have been adding to since I was a kid that is begging to be blown through with irresponsible abandon.”

That drew an unexpected laugh from Atticus, and for a moment, Mari beamed with pride. Atticus could be so serious sometimes – it felt like a victory, to be able to make him laugh. But the joy she felt from his laugh was nothing compared to what she was about to experience in the next few minutes. “Okay,” Atticus agreed suddenly, nodding to himself. “I mean. . . yeah. Sure. Okay. What the hell, right? It’s not like I have anything to lose.”

For a moment, the world stopped turning. “Really?” Mari asked breathlessly, unsure that she could actually believe it. But Atticus was just looking at her – no correcting her misinterpretation, or laughing that she had fallen for such a joke. Just Atticus, serious and somber as a headstone; except, of course, that headstones never have smiles slowly creeping into their expressions. Mari gave a wide grin in response and, to keep herself from doing something phenomenally stupid (like launching herself into his arms), she downed the whole remaining glass of water. She might have choked, but who cared about something as stupid as that at a time like this? “Okay then!” she said in a tone of declaration, jumping down from the barstool. “We leave tomorrow, first thing in the morning! Show up at my place bright and early, seven am on the dot. No sleeping in. Bring everything that you’re going to need for the next two months. And bring plenty of sketchbooks!”

“Tomorrow??” Atticus said in alarm, scrambling to keep up with Mari’s sudden decisiveness. “Like, tomorrow tomorrow? You don’t think we need a little more time to get affairs in order and shit?”

“Tomorrow!” Mari shot back in a tone that brokered no argument. She strode to the door in her best imitation of the long, confident walk her mother used when she wanted people to get out of her way. “You said you would go, and it’s too late to turn back now.” Mari opened the door, and glanced back to see an awestruck Atticus still standing in the middle of his kitchen in his wrinkly pajamas. That was a sight that she would end up seeing a lot, she suspected, over the next two months. Her grin brightened. “See you in the morning!”

Mari closed the door behind her without waiting for a response. For a moment, she didn’t move, her brain too preoccupied running over what had just happened to consider anything so much as directing her feet to walk forward. She had really did just convince her brother’s best friend, the object of her ridiculous schoolgirl crush, to run away with her to nowhere in particular for an entire summer. It didn’t feel real – and yet, it was starting to feel more real with every passing moment. She laughed and pushed herself off the door, making her way merrily back into the real world. Tonight, she would let her parents celebrate her acceptance into the Academy. Tomorrow, she and Atticus would leave everything behind. And after that–

Well, who knew what would be waiting for them after that.

#writing #my writing #tgswide #multichapter #future timeline #canon #character specific #mariana navarro james #atticus prewett #jacob navarro james #genevieve navarro #scott james #blackinkpen #couple of modern day moses’ searching for the promised land #rp #hp rp #look I wrote something how fucking wild is that

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beehivebabbles · 2 years

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couple of modern day moses’ searching for the promised land

CHAPTER ONE

Ms. Mariana Navarro James 1632 Mulligan Street New York, NY WZ10023

Ms. Navarro James,

So, quite rationally, her first reaction was to stuff the letter in her sweater pocket and dart out the front door before anyone had even seen that she had come home.

Oh. Duh. Jacob’s apartment was only a few more miles away.

Much better.

Mari glanced up, a flippant greeting to her brother already on her lips – and immediately, she found herself snapping ramrod straight. “Atticus!” she said in a bit of a gasp. “. . . hi!”

Well, she was already here, wasn’t she?

Mari walked past Atticus into the apartment, perfectly uninvited. “Got any water?”

Oh, the novel.

Atticus blinked in surprise. “How did you know that?”

See? She was good at sleuthing.

Atticus still looked dubious. “You don’t have school friends your own age that you would rather do this with? One last hurray and all that jazz?”

Well, who knew what would be waiting for them after that.

#marji #mariana navarro james #atticus prewett #the all american road trip #couple of modern day moses’ searching for the promised land #52 week challenge #look I wrote something how fucking wild is that #hp universe

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almond-t0fu · 11 months

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It's like 3:19 am and i can't sleep because of the dream I just had...

At first the dream was normal, way too normal. I was just doing what I do daily and mom and day we're talking with eachother. Dad said that he has to find something in the bedroom so he told me to go outside and closed the room's door and I did. I was happily walking around the living room (living room is connected with the kitchen and there's a small balcony in the kitchen) i didn't notice anything weird untill I went near the balcony (not too near) and i saw two hands holding the railing and trying to reach inside the balcony. It was a fucking man trying to get inside our home. I tried to run back to open the bedroom door but I was so scared that i couldn't, at last I did run but right before opening the door and he almost touched me but i managed to open the door and my mom just held me in her arms as dad did something. My brother came out of his room and he started to comfort me along with my mom.

Now the scene changed a little. There was this guy who just appeared out of nowhere and said that he will protect is from them and I was like "protect us from who??" he pointed towards the balcony that was in the bedroom. (The curtain was opened) and we could see a short person standing behind the curtains. The guy went near him and the short person just jumped from the balcony. My mom opened the bathroom and we could see someone standing behind the small window (well it's not possible in my actual house). The guy told us there a lot of people watching us and he will protect us from them. Why? I have no idea. I don't know the rest cuz I was so scared I had to physically wake myself up. This is not the first time I'm having this type of dreams. These days I'm constantly getting dreams that are very suffocating.

#i am so scared right now #i usually wake up at 4 to listen to music or do school work (study for tests)#but knowing that dream situation happened in that same room just spooks me out.#random post

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orangeseoks · 2 years

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Trouble Maker // j.jk

part threeーpart two; here

[ disclaimer! ]

this is of pure fiction and is NOT to be taken seriously!

genre ;; fluff, smut, angst | hybrid au

pairing ;; jungkook x reader, hybrid!jk x reader, (kinda) namjoon x reader.

notes ;; jungkook is a horny mf, reader is a virgin *cOuGh*, mentions of abuse, a few fights happen here and there, namjoon is a complete dork, (y/n) and namjoon are besties uwu, eventual smut, jk randomly finds porn, masterbation, (y/n) fights with her family + daddy issues, highschool is hard, jk has a virgin kink, surprise heats, jk has wet dreams (ovo; ).

warning ;; there may be quite a bit of fob in here, idk

[ unedited ]

Sighing, I heave myself up my long driveway, the backpack on my back seeming much heavier than it was a mere twenty minutes ago. “Just a little further,” I tell myself, droplets of sweat pricking my brows, it is quiet warm tonight and I am wearing a thick sweater. That clearly isn’t helping.

I groan loudly once I reach the top of the driveway and poorly jog to the backyard, unlocking the unitーdumping my backpack carelessly in the doorway and sliding the door closed behind me, locking it again. “Kookie!” I call out, un-tying my shoes and kicking them off before dragging my bag to the kitchen, deciding to put away the small amount of groceries I’d purchased.

“Jungkook?” I repeat, concern lacing my words, normally he’d be trying to climb up my leg by now. Gulping, I place the few cans of fruit salad and beans in their respective spots, quickly running into my room in search of my precious little bunny.

“Come on, this isn’tー”

I’m instantly cut off by a small grunt and movement underneath my duvet, I roll my eyes and pull back the covers, a beaming pair of dark doe eyes staring back at meーasking for forgiveness. I chuckle and raise my brows at the guilty bunny curling in on himself, “now.. what were you just doing mister?” I ask with a hum, picking Jungkook up and fixing my bed up.

“You can’t just do that, what if you suffocate? Heck, I don’t even know how you got up there,” I mutter, switching the tv on and taking a seat on the sofa, the remote clutched tightly in my free hand. I watch the tv with interest, keeping a tight yet gentle hold on Jungkook in my lap, chuckling at the current scene.

“Did you see that?” I ask the bunny in my palms, lowering my head to look him, his piercing little gaze causing me to pout and huff out a breath at his rudeness. “Just because you can’t talk back doesn’t mean you can look at me like that,” I complain.

As if he’d understood my words, Jungkook grunts and kicks my wrist, nipping at my skin afterwards, I yelpーtossing him onto the cushion next to me, scanning my hand to see if Jungkook had torn any skin. I sigh when I spot the little scratch running from the back of my hand to my forefinger, “you’re so mean Jungkook-ah.” I whine, standing to get a plaster from the bathroom.

Upon my return to the living room, I see Jungkook curled in on himself, his ears covering his eyesーa tiny pout on his cute little lips. I sigh and look down at the guilty little bunny, sitting myself beside him and picking him up, “stop pouting.” I chuckle, watching as he climbs onto my chest, snuggling into it. A small, barely noticeable smile falls onto my lips as I gaze fondly at the bunny in my arms, what am I going to do with you? I think to myself, petting the fluff ball gently.

knock knock

I blink and place Jungkook down before getting up and walking to the front door, sliding it open to reveal my dad. Sighing, I raise my brow at him, “what?” I ask, noticing how his eyes glaze over the area around me, “your sister drank all the milk, you have some?”

“I- well, yeah, but not much, I haven’t really bought any this week, I might go shopping with Namjoon this weekend..” I respond, allowing him to push me out of the way and casually stroll into my house and into my kitchen, taking out a bottle of my milk. I scoff and clench my jaw, “how much do you need?”

“Not much, just a cup.”

“Okay, hurry up, I have shit to do.”

He only grunts and take the glass of milk he’d poured, leaving without saying a word, I merely sigh and lock the door behind him, harshly closing the curtain before stomping to the kitchen and throwing the milk into the fridge.

“Angry old man,” I grumble, scuffing back to the sofa and turning my console on. It isn’t much, just and old Playstation since I couldn’t afford a more up to date one. Humming, I plug in the controller and memory card before switching to the AV channel and selecting a game.

Soulcalibur or Kingdom Hearts?

Tapping my chin in thought, I stare at the two games I have deep interest in and settle with Soulcalibur, a little slash and bash before bed never hurt anyone.

With a triumphant yell, I hit the air with my fist and grin, “kiss my ass Inferno!” I shout happily, a feeling of relief washing over me knowing I finally finished Nightmare’s story. I yawn, checking the time on the small clock I had set up, “bed time.” I tell myself, allowing the game to save as I climb to my feet to turn everything off.

“Jungkook,” tucking the controller away, I duck down to pick up the extra one I’d taken out for my little bunny to see the little fluff ball cuddled up next to it. I smile and gentle pick the two up, gently cradling a bunny in one hand while the other is busy putting a controller away.

Once I’ve managed to successfully finish the task at hand, I stroll into my room and tuck Jungkook into the little bed I made him from a old couch cushion and a doll blanket. “You better not crawl into bed with me,” I playfully warn him, turning away to change into my nightshirt before climbing into to bed and scrolling through my social media feed until I doze off.

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aajjks · 3 years

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Passion;

synopsis. you were yoongi’s everything, his biggest blessing and he’d do anything to keep you.

pairing: yan!soft husband!yoongi x fem!reader.

warning: GORE. YANDERE, DARK, MURDER, DESCRIPTIVE GORE, BLOOD, KNIFE, CRYING, INSECURE READER, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME.

REPOSTED PLS SHOW LOVE AND SUPPORT!

VIEWER DISCRETION IS HEAVILY ADVISED.

note. HAPPY YOONGI DAY!!!! WOOHOOO ITS YOONGI DAY AKA THE MOST BLESSED DAY IN THE WHOLE YEAR. Okay so fun fact, TODAY IS MY DADS BIRTHDAY TOO JAJAIAUH SO DOUBLE BLESSED DAY! I just wanted to write something for our birthday boy! if it’s not so good then I’m sorry! ENJOY! I wrote this in 15 minutes eeek.

masterlist.

your husband was a very hard working man, he was simply made of passion. He was the most passionate person you knew. and you admired him for that.

He did everything so passionately. his way of loving and cherishing you was dreamy. like how you’d always dream of marrying someone who’d treat you like a queen, loving you so unconditionally that it all felt like a dream.

it really did. sometimes like a dream and sometimes... like a nightmare.

Your relationship with your husband was bow at a bumpy road. only because of your insecurities. but every couple in the world went through the same issues that you were going through these days. right..?

sighing loudly you stirred the cake mixture one last time, trying to distract yourself.

not today Y/N...not today.

yoongi was a blessing in your life. while, you were a curse to him. you got everything but what did yoongi get? a good for nothing pathetic wife?

actually... that woman was right.

putting the cake batter in the oven, you came back to the living room, your mind was still on things... were you not enough?

maybe. leaning your head back against the couch, tears were starting to build up in your tired eyes. “G-God. I’m really the worst.” barely managing to choke that out, a broken sob left you.

those words were getting to you. that woman was right... you didn’t deserve min yoongi. You didn’t deserved to be called his wife. she was right. He just pitted you.

She was right. He wasn’t in love with you.

the waves of sharp pain in your head wasn’t allowing you to think clearly. being too emotionally fragile, you let things easily get to you.

You were pathetic. really, yoongi was so unlucky to have you, who’s wife cries on the day of their husbands birthday?

and you were too distracted to notice that your husband was finally home.

home to you.

oh, just how much was he raging.

yoongi was absolutely boiling with anger. The room was dark, Blood painted the walls in messy strokes, the feathered splatter of arterial spray.

It dripped down the walls, pooling darkly into the carpet. As he approached the scene, the floor made a damp squelch noise, like water being pressed from a damp sponge, and viscous crimson liquid welled up warmly between his toes, staining the skin. the blood curling screams of the dying woman ringed around the suffocating four walls.

“You stupid little bitch. you really tried me this time.” yoongi laughed like a psycho as he stabbed the bloodied knife again into the woman’s guts. “shut the fuck up!” growling at the pathetic sounds, yoongi twisted the knife deeper into the females stomach.

“god fucking damnit. how are you even able to scream, I literally just cut off your tongue..?” tsking, yoongi grumbled. he needed to hurry.

It was almost time.

“I can’t fucking believe this. Today is my birthday and my beautiful wife is waiting at home for me and I’m here waiting for you to finally go to hell.”

drops of sweat were running down on yoongi’s face. little stains of blood also evident on his pale skin. “How fucking dare you say all of that bullshit to my Y/N!?” screaming at the now deceased woman, yoongi stood up. Gazing at the blood oozing out of the pale corpse’s body. he smirked.

he had his revenge.

“well, she had it coming. it’s going to be such a memorable birthday. now I better get home to my queen.” he shrugged as he threw his knife away.

and walked away, to come home to you. his passion.

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stellocchia · 3 years

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Headcanons for the Chats:

Everyone does, in fact, have a Chat that follows them, but it’s never as cool as they would like you to believe

Techno for example has one single pig that follows him at a distance and writes messages in the snow. They’re quite treatening honestly but Techno can’t read what they’re writing half the time because he always forgets his glasses

Tommy is a Big Man and of course he has the coolest Chat ever! What was that? You wanna know what it is? Well it’s most definitely NOT random music that plays around in the air, no sir! He can connect with it a lot better when he has a jukebox and music discs playing, but there are never really any words spoken, it’s just weirdly fitting music

Tubbo has his ominous text as Chat. He can see it only sometimes, but it’s always there, enderwalk Ranboo can see it all the time and so could Ghostbur. Michael can see it often as well and he knows that his dad’s Chat likes him a whole lot. Tubbo’s Chat can be helpful at times, but a lot of it is honestly uncomprehensible screams in the void, not like Tubbo will see it anyway, right? And when he does he honestly doesn’t mind

Puffy’s Chat appears as written words in her diary, meaning that she cannot see it unless she has the diary at hand and open. Her Chat is not too happy of being ignored 23 hours a day, but sucks to suck I guess...

Wilbur’s chat sends him messages through smoke. Be it from a fire or a cigarette they can come through. Less fortunate they can communicate only through smoke signals, not by morphing the smoke into words and Wilbur most definitely doesn’t have the patience to decipher what they’re saying most of the time. Everyone else can see his Chat as well, but only Tommy can interpret it and he’s always surprised by how fond they are of him, it’s nice

Ranboo gets his ender particles as Chat, but that’s what they are, light particles. Some of them have figured out how to communicate through morse code by shining more or less, but with how many there are it’s honestly very rare for Ranboo to catch anything amidst the confusion...

Phil’s Chat is one single crow that comes by sometimes to drop a letter on him and then caw at him for a bit. The letter often contains very concerning stuff, like that time he received a very detailed letter on Wilbur’s opinion on eating sand. Wilbur didn’t write that letter it just appeared. Phil suspects that his Chat can read minds or something like that and wonders why the heck it always uses it to unsettle him. The crow will often appear without a letter as well and just caw at him for a few hours before disappearing once more

Quackity’s Chat is actually interesting because he sees them as numbers through his blind eye. They can be probabilities or little numeric messages and they actually help quite a lot with his casinò nowdays since they’re always there and mostly helpful. He used to think he didn’t have a Chat before loosing his eye and that always made him quite envious of all those that did. Well, better late then never I guess and at least that fight with Technoblade wasn’t a complete loss...

Foolish’s Chat appears in reflections on golden surfaces. They appear as still images, giving him insipiration for his builds. Sometimes they can be little scenes from his dark past, he doesn’t like those times, doesn’t like how the red hue surrounding them ruins the beautiful gold blocks their reflection lays in. It’s becoming more frequent since he joined Las Nevadas, so Foolish hasn’t been looking at gold much recently

Fundy’s Chat is an explosion of colors and shapes in the corner of his eyes. They’re not very communicative but they do their best to cheer him up and keep him company. Ghostbur used to see it as well and was always plesantly surprised by seeing how much blue there was when he was around, it was very calming. With how down Fundy’s been lately hs Chat has been extra colorful to try and cheer him up, often taking on the shape of a familiar radish looking fella

Dream used to have a Chat a long time ago, but he got rid of it in time, they were too much of a distraction and he didn’t have the time for it. Now that he’s in prison he wishes they were still with him, but it’s far too late for that now

Sam’s Chat appears as redstone stains in the floors and walls. Sometimes they can be words, but it’s rare. Most of the time they’re just geometrical shapes. They never appear while he’s in Pandora’s Vault and he really wishes they did because the emptiness feels suffocating. Quackity sees his chat as well and they once called him “son” to his face. He’ll never admit it but he’s weirdly fond of them

This is all I could think about for now! I may add more as I think of them, or any of you can add more if you want!

#dream smp headcanons #dream smp #technoblade #tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #quackity #awesamdude #fundy #foolishg #philza #wilbur soot #captain puffy #dreamwastaken #long post #my favourite out of these is definitely foolish #my precious child <3

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yandere--stuck · 3 years

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Grim - Yandere!Grimdark!John x Reader

[Warnings: Suggestive, graphic body horror, mentions of blood and gore]

---

John had watched you die. Not long after he had died himself.

He had seen the dead body of his father, lying on the floor beside Rose's mother. The scent of wine mixed with the stench of blood and death, making the Heir wrinkle his nose in disgust.

He didn't know why he didn't cry. He didn't cry at a lot of things. He didn't know why. Maybe he never learned how.

Or, maybe, it was the comfort of your presence at his side. The feel of your arm brushing against his, the sound of your voice hitching in shock. Even if he no longer had his father…. At least, he had you.

Maybe Dave had been right, the game had been bad news. They probably shouldn't have played it. Really, it had only brought ruin into their lives - into the lives of all it touched.

But it's not like they were the only harbingers of the apocalypse. And if you all hadn't played it… He could have lost you. It's not like he wanted to die, or that he didn't care about his dad or his friends, but you were the most important thing in the world to him.

Really, the main reason he had wanted to play was to finally see you, one on one. Rose was his best friend, but he felt disappointed that you weren't his server player, and jealousy at Jade being your client player. But, finally, to close the loop, he was your server player.

His excitement in seeing you, taking in everything about you, made him lose himself, and he ended up smashing his face against the screen of his laptop. The exhilaration and euphoria of seeing you and serving you almost overpowered the terror at the prospect of you dying, of you not making it to your planet in time.

But, you did eventually make it. The relief made John's heart burst with joy, hugging his laptop to his chest, trying to imagine the warmth of the machine was your own body heat. He made goo-goo eyes at you through the screen, resisting the urge to kiss the pixels that made up your form.

He had to continue making progress, but he was terrified of you getting hurt - so, he alchemized his glasses to include a screen that displayed your status in the game. This way, he could check up on you and carry you with him, outside of pesterchum, at least.

Vriska kept pestering him, eventually convincing him to fall asleep on his quest bed, saying something about "god tiers", apparently it was something even higher than the usual tiers on one's echeladder.

The next thing he remembered was awaking on some sort of chess board-esque battlefield with some little chess guys on it. Luckily, he was able to borrow his dad's car in the meantime (good thing his dad had gotten on his ass about *finally* getting his driver's license… Though, did he really need one if he was controlling it with his new windy powers?) And he had even managed to reunite with dear, sweet, precious Liv Tyler! Though… She was a lot more robot-y than before.

The thought of sharing her with you made him absolutely giddy! And the idea of you being a co-parent to Casey… God, it made him smile so hard his face hurt!

And! He had even gotten a cool hammer! You'd certainly be impressed by his strength and his cool moves. John would prove himself to be a great, protective boyfriend for sure!

A looming darkness caught his attention, and he felt himself pulled toward it. It seemed to come from a large castle shrouded in darkness. It didn't seem to be natural, like from a thunderstorm. It didn't seem to be from a fire either, the darkness neither smoky nor smelt of burning.

His eyes widened as he focused on something in the midst of the darkness - and he let out a gasp when he realized it was you!

He kicked into gear, rushing to meet you. You were dressed in your dream planet pajamas - and you looked so cute in them! As you turned, hearing him approach, he had to fight the urge to not fling himself at you, pulling you into a tight embrace as he spun you around in his arms.

He shook himself out of his daydream as you spoke to him, explaining that you had seen the darkness, as well, and wanted to investigate. It seemed to be coming from within the castle. Of course, John offered to accompany you inside. If anything went south, he'd be there for back-up!

He had to hide his grin and blush as the two of you ventured in, you sliding up beside him for reassurance.

Walking through the cavernous halls of the castle, you were horrified to find the bodies of so many innocent people strewn about, blood and viscera covering the walls and floors. The bodies, as alien as they may have been, were clearly. This was a massacre.

But, beside you, John felt… Nothing. It was sad, sure, but… You were still alive. And that was all that mattered, really!

You jumped when you stumbled upon a living person, John moving in front of you protectively. You held your breath as the figure turned, revealing…

Rose?

Though, she looked much different than what little you had seen of her. Her skin had turned a ghoulish gray, her eyes as black as night, and her eyes seemed to glow, illuminating her face. And a darkness seemed to surround her. It emanated off of her, stretching above her like tendrils.

Could… Could Rose have done this?

John seemed completely unfazed, greeting Rose with a wave, saying something about her "finally going grimdark."

Rose let out a noise that sounds something like a giggle, her lips quirking upwards. She tried to speak, but the words that came out… They weren't even words, you think. It sounded fuzzy, but also incredibly, painfully loud. It didn't sound like any noise a human could make, like TV static blaring in your ears, or switching through radio stations with no signals. It was suffocating and loud and- everywhere. It felt as though Rose's voice was everywhere, all around you, inside of you.

You were sure you let out a scream, but you only heard Rose's voice - even as you screwed your eyes shut and clamped your hands over your head, all you could hear was the noise…! It felt as though your ears were starting to bleed.

John's hands clamped down on your shoulders, bringing you back to the moment. You breathed heavily, chest rising and falling heavily as you tried to ground yourself.

Rose's eyes were full of guilt and concern, a pained expression on her face as she turned away.

As you tried to ground yourself and recover, you barely noticed John caressing your shoulder with a thumb. Nor did you see the deadly glare he sent to the back of Rose's head.

It's not like he didn't love Rose, but he loved you far, far more. If she ever hurt you again… He couldn't be held responsible for what he'd do.

The both of you followed Rose through the castle, the girl not able to bare turning around to face either of you. Still shaken up, you kept your head down, not wanting to look at the bodies or gore. John held you close to him, stroking your arms up and down to comfort you.

He had to fight not to smile, the feeling of your skin on his was electric.

Eventually, Rose guided the both of you out to a balcony of sorts - and you stopped dead, gasping in horror.

John's father and Rose's mother… Both dead on the ground. Murdered.

You couldn't help it, you turned to face John. The man's face was one of shock, his breathing shallow as he processed the scene in front of him.

His dad… He couldn't believe it. He had just seen him. He was right there… He felt his heart break.

Oh, and what was worse… You had to see something this awful! Oh, you poor thing! He had to get you away from here…!

But, everything happened so fast. All at once, a figure appeared - a man with the face of a dog and the body of one of the many, murdered chess people, armed with a sword. Instinctively, you stumbled back - and John turned, reaching out for you, terrified of losing you.

Before he could even call out for you, his words got choked up in his throat, replaced with nothing but blood. Pain exploded from his abdomen and his back, ocean eyes widening as they focused on the sword going straight through him.

The figure pulled the sword free, the Heir grunting in pain as his organs were ripped apart, blood gushing from his open wounds. As John fell to his knees, trying desperately to hold himself up, he spat out blood onto the white, marble floor. Slowly, he sank to the floor, eyes growing dim as, in his last moments, he tried to find you.

---

Coming back to life, John found, was a lot like waking up - the slow awareness of consciousness, the disorientation. A sudden burst of energy hit the man as he felt himself be rejuvenated, colors exploding across his vision. He blinked as he regained his sight, the world fading in from white. He swiveled his head, trying to find you.

In the distance, he could see Rose and the dog-man battling over the battlefield, blasting off magical attacks at one another. His heart pounded in his chest.

If she was there, then where were you?

Looking down, he surveyed the balcony. The body of his father, Rose's mother, and-

Oh. Oh, God. God, no, please!

The Heir felt tears strain at his eyes, his mouth pulled into a pained, horrifying grimace. He fell hard to his knees, kneeling above your body.

"No, no, please!" He choked out a sob. "Please, please, wake up!"

John clutched at your body, fisting the fabric of your pajamas in his hands as he shook you, desperately trying to get you to regain consciousness. He could feel his eyes and cheeks begin to sting with tears. His breathing was shallow and fast, having to use his powers to try to even it out.

He sobbed, all words incomprehensible by now. He let out sobbing screams as he clutched your body close to him, already feeling the warmth leaving you. He pressed, desperate, messy kisses to your lips and face - but, it was no use. Your real body and dreamself had both died.

He doesn't think he had ever cried before now. Only you made him feel so strongly. He loved you. He only loved you. He needed you. He couldn't lose you.

He couldn't.

Without you, life was meaningless. You were his only reason for playing this game. His only reason for doing anything - for living, for breathing. You were perfect. You were everything.

But, without you, there was no point. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair!

Grief and rage filled him to the brim. He grit his teeth and he screwed his eyes shut, eyebrows knitting together.

The air tasted of electricity, and without his knowing, the dark clouds that swirled from above dripped down and encircled him like an inky blaze.

And John let out a scream.

Or, at least, he had tried to. His cry had been cut off by inky, black tendrils forcing their way inside of his open mouth. The tentacles came from everywhere, from the gloomy clouds from above the darkness that surrounded the man.

The eldritch beings that had given the Lalonde her current state had felt power within John's rage and sorrow, as well. The outburst had drawn their attentions - feeding off the darkness within him. They would remake him in their image, as well…

John gagged as the tendrils snaked their way down his mouth and down his throat, his neck bulging from the amount of vines forcing their way down his throat. John could barely breathe, writhing in desperation to get air into his lungs. He tried to use his powers, trying to suck in air through his nose in an attempt to somehow get oxygen through the vines' air-tight hold in his throat - only to let out a strangled, muffled scream as tendrils slipped up into his nose, reaching up into his brain.

If he could have, John would have gurgled or spit up around the tendrils, but he didn't even have the ability to do even that. The Heir's limbs spasmed as he tried to reach up to yank the tendrils out, only for more to snap the man's arms against his torso. Even more came to wrap around John's legs, restraining his legs and tying them together.

More tears bubbled up from his eyes as he felt the tentacles curled around his legs, thighs, stomach and chest - almost caressing him, as if gently teasing him. The tender touches only served to contrast the agony of the tentacles spreading further into his body, ripping through his throat and into his stomach and intestines.

The pain was so unbearable that if he could have, he would have puked, but the tentacles blocking his throat and mouth would have never allowed him to do so.

John swore he could feel himself bleeding internally, but in truth it was the feel of the darkness spreading all throughout his body, taking hold of him, corrupting him. He could the darkness clog his arteries, wrap around his bones, fill him up to the very brim with itself - somehow, despite the unknowable agony he was in, John had managed to stay aware, but only barely.

Until, the tentacles that had filled up his nose plunged deep into his brain. The man's body jerked wildly, twitching and spasming as the darkness overtook and corrupted his mind. Dark grey overtook and crawled up his skin. His dark hair slowly turned from his natural hair to a stark white. His eyes, forced to say open, lost their irises and pupils as they were lost in an impossibly bright, growing white.

As the tendrils finally burrowed completely into John's body, deep inside him - a horrible scream erupted from his body, making the ground below him shake and crumble, inky darkness flowing like smoke from his open, shrieking maw, now filled with fangs.

---

You awoke with a start, taking deep gasping breaths. God, your head hurt, and your back wasn't exactly feeling any better. Felt like you slept on stone… Rubbing your head, you looked down, confirming that you had, in fact, slept on stone. It had a distinct symbol on it, and looking at the front of your new outfit, it seemed to share the exact color and symbol.

You stilled suddenly, blinking, realization washing over you. An ominous presence seemed to loom over you, making a shiver crawl up your spine. You turned, and jumped in place.

It was… John. Or, what looked like John. He grinned, looking upon with an eyeless stare. It reminded you of how Rose looked before. Had… Had whatever happened to her, happened to him, too?"

"John… What's going on?" You asked, eyes flitting around in confusion. Somehow, John had taken you all the way to your planet after you…

You…

You died, hadn't you?

"John…?" You settled your focus back on him, letting out a gasp as he pulled into an embrace.

A rumble seemed to emit from within his chest… Was… Was he purring?

You settled into his hold, trying to hide your nervousness. "What happened back there? What happened to you?"

John's expression flickered to one of nervousness, before opening his mouth to speak.

You let out a yell of pain, the sound all too familiar to you. It suffocated you, overpowering even your own yelling, incomprehensible, ear-bleeding static that seemed to drill straight into your eardrums, into your mind, and your very being.

You had only realized John had stopped attempting to speak when he clasped his hands over yours, easing them from your head and holding them in his own. Whimpers bubbled up from his throat as he leaned forward, nuzzling you.

You laughed nervously, detangling your hands from John's to pet at his now-white hair. "It- it's okay, John. We… We just need to find out how to get you back to normal, okay? And then, we can get back to Rose and the others and-"

You were cut off, letting out a soft grunt as John pushed you back down onto your quest bed. A powerful purr rumbled from within him, leaning down to kiss and lick at your neck.

You were stock still for a moment, before letting out a shocked laugh, not knowing how to react. Your hands wormed your way to his shoulders. You chuckled, trying to push him off of you. "John, I- now's really not the time-"

In one swift movement, the grimdark Heir was able to pin your wrists by your head, letting out a playful growl as he straddled you.

"John…" You could whimper, voice dying out.

John only responded by diving in, kissing and licking hungrily at your neck and shoulders, occasionally pressing hungry kisses to your face and lips, swallowing your whimpers and moans.

John's purrs seemed to surround you on all sides as he dug his teeth into your neck, claiming you as his own.

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oskarwing · 3 years

Text

I really wanna talk about the parent child relationships in Midnight Mass

I’m not sure if I’m good at writing this sorta Meta but here goes nothing. Very many spoilers follow.

Let’s start with the adults:

First we have Erin who suffered so much at the hands of her mother and later because of her mother’s abuse. We don’t get much detailed info on Peggy Greene but from what we can gather she was a lot like Beverly Keane, who seemed to idolize her (though that probably got easier for her after Peggy was gone), in her self-righteous over-pious manner. She just happened to be Beverly with an alcohol problem and a daughter who she could take all her anger at life for not working out her way for God loving her just the same as everybody else out. The dove scene is really such a good scene. But Erin was stronger than her mother, stronger than the abuse that was about to repeat itself and when she found out that she would have a child of her own she left and tried her best to give her kid a better life than the one she had. And she found the strength I think with the help of the same God her mother most likely used as legitimation for her abuse (don’t get me wrong I believe it was Erin’s own strength but she also clearly found something in religion that helped her gather it) and it helped her to carve out a path for herself and her unborn child.

Sarah’s relationship to her parents is such an interesting one because we get to see the end of it. The man who she believed to be her father has been dead for a long while and her mother is suffering through the late stages of dementia. And Sarah showed up for it. As a doctor she most likely knew what would be happening as soon as Mildred started to show the first symptombs but she wasn’t going to leave her mother. That kind of care for an elderly parent shows something that is proven in Mildred’s character time and time again: She is a very devoted parent and the love between mother and daughter flows both ways in every scene they are in together, after the birth of her daughter her world turned around Sarah and she loved her with all she had. There are a few scenes that show that Mildred’s understanding of the duty she felt towards her family came from the old values of her time. She wouldn’t have taken off with John and their child not for a lack of love but because in those times, in catholism still at least where I’m from, you can’t just marry a priest. You can’t just have a child with a priest eventhough you’re married and then fuck off with him. As a woman, as a wife and mother you have to stand with your husband, stand with your child and you have to stop running after fantasies I’m sure Mildred had. I’m saying this all from her perspective btw, I don’t necessarily think running away with John, in the way he wished to, would have been good for Sarah but honesty might have been and her old fashioned values were also what kept her from being truly honest with her daughter. To John on the other hand Sarah is a fantasy, a dream he couldn’t reach. His daughter, his baby, so close and yet so far away getting to watch her grow into an adult but never being able to really be her father as in her Dad instead of her priest. And it’s painful to him, he clearly loved Mildred, loved Sarah but he was also kinda selfish in his love that in the end took Sarah away. At first he isolated his child by starring at her giving her the creeps and the feeling that she had done something wrong that he knew she was gay and dissaproved and then he took it upon himself to ‘cure’ Mildred in the same way he was. Sarah wanted to take care of her mother wanted to be there for her in those final months and John decided it was up to him to give Mildred a youth potion to make it so she’d never die. And with that he took away from Sarah what is without doubt a hard but for many people a very important last part of the relationship between child and parent. John was a complicated man and would maybe have been a great Dad he certainly showed a lot of fatherly love for his altar boys but he couldn’t have the family in the way he fantasized about and in the end it was that fantasy that made him act the way he did.

Riley Flynn causes his parents a lot of pain. Him killing that girl in the beginning, his alcoholism, him simply not liking the place, the home they build for themselves through hard work causes the Annie and Ed so much pain and financial loss and you can see how tired they are, how much guilt they feel for failing their son. Ed calls out his own guilt and says that he doesn’t belive it could be Annie’s fault because ‘your mother’s a saint’ but what I truly love about Annie and Ed Flynn is that they both aren’t saints. As a mother Annie is very much overprotective and suffocating, wanting to keep her children on crocket island and hating the notion that they might leave her, even though she is kind and sweet and loving. And while Ed seems rather checked out as a father but he is the more honest parent, never talking down to Riley and telling him as it is, telling him about the pain he caused him while also admitting to the guilt he feels. The Flynns are flawed people even in their religious practice (I think the way Annie speaks about Ali showing up at church when Hassan seemed to be nothing but nice to her spoke very loudly to the fact that Annie is rather misguided sometimes) but they are good people at the core of it and their parenting might have been part of Riley’s way into alcoholism but it wasn’t only them. There were things they couldn’t change and things they had no influence over like his heart being broken by Erin running away, the sort of people he went out on parties with and so many other things... Yes, they may have shaped their son in a way that made him vulnerable to addiction and the party scene of the stock and tech market and brought him to the point where he killed a child but it doesn’t happen through parenting alone and they also shaped him in the good ways. Him not losing himself when Pruitt changes him, him being brave enough to warn Erin, him standing up for what he believes in those things were also shaped by Ed and Annie. They are one of the best example of flawed but good hearted Christians I have seen in recent media and their portrayal was one of the most heartbreaking ones.

Now the kids:

Let’s start with Leeza. Little Leeza Scarborough who before it comes to her wonder gets treated with pity and overprotectiveness from her parents and the island community at large. Leeza was injured by Joe Collie transforming him into the island’s villain and her into the ever present victim. What happened to her is without a doubt horrible and I understand why Wade and Dolly started to become these overprotective parents, why they were so easily sucked in to John’s and Bev’s scheme. Their little girl was almost taken from them eventhough Wade is the mayor, one of the most powerful people on the island he had no influence over what happened to Leeza even was the one who took her out that day and what followed the accident was as we can gather from their conversation with Sarah a lot of pain and financial burden though they say they would have done it all over for Leeza. In fact a lot of places in crockett island are wheelchair accesible and I am sure that Wade as mayor made it so (I can’t really imagine that a small place like the island was very inclusive though I may be wrong). After Leeza is healed they don’t want to question in don’t want to think about what might have been the cause for it. In fact they stop questioning anything after that point, after Leeza walks again they are completely vulnerable to Bev’s manipulation and them letting that happen, them just going along with everything, Wade protecting John after he kills Joe long after Leeza forgave him and with her forgiveness send Joe on a better path is what in the end makes them lose her. Because Leeza isn’t that little victim who needs pity and help, she is a strong minded, strong willed young woman with a lot of wit who similar to Erin finds strength in her faith but in a way that isn’t devotion without question and when the Easter vigil is held she doesn’t follow her parents eventhough she loves them deeply. She forgives them I think, because that’s what Leeza’s character is about in it’s core but her parents were two of the instigators behind what happened on the island, without Wade’s protection John and Bev couldn’t have come as far as they did and they put their trust in them because they loved their daughter so much they didn’t stop to question if maybe what made Leeza walk again was also a bad thing.

Ali and Hassan don’t have it easy and I as a white person really can’t speak much on the racism and religious discrimination they face. I can say this I think: The first line spoken about Ali before we even really get to look at him is “You didn’t invite Aladin” and already sets us up for what both of them know: They are the outsiders. Not only because they just moved to the island but also because in their faith they are different from their peers and religion can often be a community building event for people before it is anything else. Ali starts balming his father a little for that, for not trying to fit in more with the community, for moving after his mother’s death and then not trying to be closer to the people around them and for the pain all the pain the two of them went through before Crockett island. It isn’t oly peer pressure though of course that brings Ali to St Patrick’s. Sure, Ali wanted to be part of the community but also desperately wanted to believe that there was a devine power who could if he just did it (it meaning faith) the right way he might find a way to avoid the pain of his parents. Hassan knew that and he warned him that that wasn’t how it worked. Hassan was a protective Dad and maybe he overdid it from time to time but his worries were never without reason, his need to keep his son safe from a world that hated him for a crime that happened when he wasn’t even born yet never unfounded and him wanting to make sure his kid kept the memory of his mother alive never anything but the wish of a griefing man and loving father. In the end when they pray together there is peace in them. They face their ends with the dignity Ali’s mother would have wished for and they face it as father and son. While Beverly the true religious terrorist of the story burns away without it.

Warren is the youngest Flynn and it is never directly stated yet omnipresent that his coming of age happens in the shadow of his older brother’s mistake. Annie warns him away from drinking when he goes out he in fact doesn’t drink. He never drinks because of what his brother did. Warren would have been 12 when Riley killed that girl and so he would have seen and felt what his brother’s actions did to his parents fully without being yet old enough to maybe see the nuance. Annie and Ed probably try to right the wrong they believe to have done in parenting Riley with Warren and that’s a lot for a kid. I do think it’s pretty usual that parents of multiple children especially when there’s a larger age gap try to do better with the younger children, but that isn’t fair is it? Warren is his own person not a second chance to do it over. And yet seemingly he does what is asked of him. He’s alter boy, he’s charming and helpful and sweet, he doesn’t drink (even when he does smoke pot) and he helps his father where he can with his work. But in the end he feels guilty because he thinks he wasn’t enough and says at that last dinner he would have been different if he had known he wouldn’t see his family again. But Leeza is right they know and they love him and Warren deserved to not be perfect all the time.

Littlefoot saved Erin and Erin payed her back with all the love she had. She was never born but she gave her mother the strength and willpower to leave. In her speech to Joe Leeza said he reached through time and took things from her she didn’t even know she had yet.When Erin left her husband she reached through time and saved Littlefoot from a childhood like hers and when John gave Erin the angel’s vampire’s blood he reached through time and took away her child, a child who would have been loved and cared for. A child with an amazing mother and probably a great step-dad. Littlefoot’s story is tragic because she never got one.

#midnight mass #midnight mass spoilers #parents in midnight mass #I dunno man I just really love how they showed all these examples of parents

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