#the worst part is I asked my deities if it was okay first

[myceliumtoaster]

Guys if you see a spider don’t pick it up,

I know it’s friend shaped but apparently a lot of them are actually venomous (wish I could tell this-morning-me this)

Y’all should’ve seen the urgent care doctor’s face when I explained that the spider was friend shaped and I just wanted to pick the little guy up for a just a little bit—

[m0rbidmacabre]

The Offering

Summary:

Vessel, a character tormented by his inner pain and trauma, seeks solace in sleep, personified as a deity. Despite his suffering becoming increasingly visible to his bandmates, Vessel struggles to communicate his feelings, even to his closest friend, III. After a particularly distressing encounter with the 'voice of sleep', Vessel and III decide to forego band practice, opting for silence and comfort instead.

Notes:

dipping my toes into the world of Sleep Token - This is probably going to end up being pretty dark but for now, enjoy some loving cuddles and angst.

The Offering  

Chapter 1

ao3 link

Sleep is a deity that lives inside us all, they are a mirror of our emotional connection to the world around us. Our pain, trauma, love, healing. What they are not is a healer, a helper, a friend. They reflect your inner subconscious. They only have the power we give to them; they represent the worst and the best parts of who we are as humans.

Vessel had been within sleeps grasp for as long as he could remember, he worshipped the deity that had promised him salvation, hoping that one day his insufferable pain would vanish, that his trauma would be healed.  Although Vessel’s pain was much more apparent now, not only to himself, but to his fellow band mates.  it plagued him, his black cloud of pain...  It was constantly in his skyline.   

Vessel was sat in the dark, his mind unable to rest, his head swimming in the dreams that had just plagued him.   

“Do you think it will ever stop? Do you think it will ever go away…”  Vessel spoke out into the night, his head in his hands as the sweat from his nightmares oozed out from his pores.   

“Soon proselyte… first you must show your true strength... you must prove that your ascension will be worth it” a voice answered him. It echoed through the room, reaching only Vessel's mind. His heart began racing and his palms grew sweaty as he heard the voice of sleep.  

“You answer me now?!” Vessel shouted   

“I cried for help, over and over... you've ignored me... FOR MONTHS. All I want is for the pain to go away…I'll do anything you ask. Please, Sleep. Help me...”. Vessel's voice breaking as he confesses his desperation to the deity. His tears spilling down his face as the room fell to silence.   

The darkness held it’s claws closer to Vessel's throat longer than he admitted to his band mates, he was never one to make them worry, he wanted them to look up to him, to follow him like he follows sleep, but his lack of rest was becoming visible, his irritation showing.  

The day light crawled through the curtains and so did the tap to vessels door.   

“Yeah…” Vessel rolled over to face the door, still lying in bed... His brain not once finding peace.   

III walked into the room “Hey Ves, are you okay? We’ve got to practise this afternoon”.   

“I’m fine, I just… I don't know” he shook his head burying it into his arms.   

“Hey, it’s okay. We understand. This is all new for all of us… you have a lot on your plate… we are in this together” III said as he slid onto the bed next to Vessel enveloping him into his long arms.   

Vessel leaned into III letting his arms wrap around him, taking in his sweet scent of his shampoo. Strawberries.  He felt safe here, in the arms of someone who loved him, who kind of understood his traitorous path. III was always more than a good friend, he was his go to person.  III pattered Vessel with kisses, as vessel felt the tears beginning to fall. The tiniest sob making its way out of his mouth as III pulled him in tighter.   

“You don’t have to pretend with me Ves, I got you” III said III softly, trying to encourage his friend to bare his soul to him.  

Vessel didn’t reply, he didn’t say a word... He didn’t like to look weak, even to the people he loved… no explanation was offered for how he was feeling. As always Vessel closed himself off, even to his band mates.  He just sat quietly wrapped around III, the room quickly falling back to silence as they held each other.  III placed a kiss on Vessel’s forehead, as he sat back on the bed, pulling vessel and the blanket with him.   

“Maybe we should call off band practice today…Stay in bed… you don’t seem yourself” he whispered.  

Vessel just nodded his continual silence, leaving his opinions out of it, he knew full that band practise was important, but today... After hearing sleep talk to him last night... He just wanted to be in silence, to hear that voice reply over and over in his head. He was sure he was going to lose his mind.  

“I tell you what, I’ll get the others.... let’s get cozy and watch something shall we? What about pizza? ” III said to Vessel hoping for a more reasonable answer.  

“Okay...” Vessel agreed, always the quiet type. III smiled. Vessel may only have just agreed with his idea, but it made it his day that his friend was opting to spend time with them overspending time alone.  

“Okay, okay, okay.... wait here. I’ll go get everything ready. It’s going to be amazing Ves.” III kissed Vessel on the forehead and got to his feet like a dangly puppy dog that hadn't grown into his overgrown legs yet.  

Vessel sat in silence, alone once again in his room. The quietness only brought his thoughts back to sleep, his mind racing as if sleep was still inside his head, poking around... Prodding at his life force from the inside. His mind flashing memories of his past that he had long tried to leave behind him, he wrapped the blanket III had left around him. The smell of his strawberry shampoo still lingering, bringing him comfort while he was alone. If his band mates only knew just how much he needed them, they were his inner circle, his protection from himself. The only people who knew who the real Vessel was. The world would never get to meet him, not really... Not truly, they see his mask. A mere projection of what they want to see. They never see the true person he is, and that's how Vessel liked it. He wanted to spread the message of sleep, spread words of hope... spread the feeling of pain that he had felt within himself through his stories. Not to heal others pain, no... but a way to heal his own. It was selfish in a way, a way for him to get over his own trauma that haunted him, a reflection that could heal him and bring him closer to his deity...  

“VES, VES, you coming out? We've picked a movie...” III shouted.  

Vessel lifted his head out of his arms, where he had tucked himself up in thought. He unwrapped himself slowly, each limb creaking and cracking as if he was older than the deity he serves. Keeping III’s blanket firmly wrapped around him as he stood.  

“Coming... Coming...” He shouted back to III.  

He walked out of his bedroom and into the living room, II, III and IV already sat around on a mismatch of blankets and pillows that III had laid out for them. It looked like a small fort had taken over the living room with the tv as its centre piece. III had made a little cozy den for them all to hang out in, III was forever the one that made sure the others were looked after and he never ceased to surprise Vessel with how kind and caring he was. Vessel just stood at the door, looking at them... their gazes drifting to Vessel, shiny smiles firmly adorned their faces. He smiled back, a welcomed smile from the torture of his own mind.  

“WELL, come on... were waiting for you....” II tapping the spot between him and III with a laugh, as Vessel just stood looking at them all, as if it was a picture he didn't want to lose.  

Vessel laughed back, an awkward smile appearing. He climbed over a pile of legs and arms, finding the perfect spot between all three of his band mates. Sitting down with crossed legs. It took only a moment before they were all interlocked, tangled in a sweet form of comfort. Each touching the other. Each knowing that through the pain and trauma... they always had each other.  

Notes:

Find me on Socials: Tumblr: @m0rbidmacabre X: @M0rbid_Macabre Instagram: @morbid.macabre Facebook: Morbid Macabre

[floatinginzerogravity]

I did an Analysis of the Murder Drones Pilot for my friends and am deciding to post it: Pt.1

Okie, It's Murder Drones explanation time

okay, first of all, I've waited LITERAL MONTHS to do this, and WILL be pointing out every tiny detail, and would very much love to do this with every episode. (I am happy stimming so much right now)

If you don't feel like reading all this, I can provide a condensed version. I will just send a wall of text, I will fill it with my theories and goofy bg details, I will send excessive screenshots of the characters, and I will not feel shame. Be warned

so, The year is 3000 something, and humanity has been colonizing other planets, using half-sentient worker drone robots to mine them. Humanity then blows up the planet by accident (oops)

Just for clarity, this is not earth, it's a completely separate planet around 70 light years away called Copper 9 (Side note, it's technically impossible for a moon to have rings. oops, the show is scientifically inaccurate, it's ruined now/j) Anyway, the core collapse killed all humans and turned the atmosphere into a "toxic death storm" (description lovingly borrowed from N) The Worker drones, now free from human control, discovered their sentience. They build a society based on the human one before it, with families, schools, and all the other stuff

The Robot Sentience side tangent: Liam Vickers, show creator, when asked about the Drone's sentience- "It was kind of a basic, limited version... the disaster that happened on their planet that kind of left them kind of stranded, kind of played into their adaptive AI abilities.... You need a sort of intelligence to not fall over... it expands to keeping them alive in various circumstances" Basically, they were programmed to do certain tasks, and when humanity was wiped out, their goals changed and they were given the space to find their own sentience. Sentience can also occur if they're in an environment that promotes sentience or if their damaged/corrupted in some way

JCJenson (in Spaaaaccce) (aka the company that created the drones and runs colonization. The name of the company is also, apparently, based on a cleaning company. BCBoston or something) Decides they don't like sentient AI running around and sends Disassembly Drones to Copper 9 to wipe them out

(Text: "CALCULATING, MOST PROBABLE DEITY TO PRAY TO)

The implication here is that the blue guy threw his child when the attacks started. (I think the fandom named him Bob or something similar) This is the first example of the A+ parenting of Murder Drones characters.

V's just perched on a lampost lol. Very Creature™️ of her

Bg text #3 I guess

[Text: Photo cred: some dead dude lol] [Text: "dying is stupid and also dumb" -me, idk]

[Text: How do we fix this in a complicated Sci-fi way] So, Uzi wants to fight, and everyone else wants to hide, basic plot stuff, moving on

Her railgun has stickers lol

[Text: "Violently opposed to biological life" The rest is readable]

Khan (Uzi's dad) being the worst™️, an image collection

Something that will forever irk me until the day I die is why a robot has Testosterone????? Don't they not even have biological genders, or biology, like, at all???? I don't think robots need hormones, bud

I once saw someone point out that this is probably one of the first times someone has been nice to Uzi, as she has no friends, is bullied, and her father is a bit neglectful <- Understatement (I do want to say that Khan isn't as bad as most of the fandom seems to think he is. Doesn't mean he's good either, though)

Baby's first "Bite me", I'm so proud. (Fun fact, in Spanish she says "Jodete", which translates to "Fuck you!" )

HSDHJDSFNJKDSHJDFHGJFGBKJDFDKJG WHY DO YOU HAVE HORMONES?????? YOUR FREAKING ROBOTS???!!!!!! WHYYYYYYYYY (Plot: Uzi says that she plans to sneak out to find the last part for her railgun, and in the next scene she is waking up at 3:00am to do just that) Now time for deciphering Uzi's sticky notes

[Text: To do: >Talk to source

>...

>(I can't read the rest)] [Text: RESEARCH: How to turn "REALLY sad all the time" into "Look really cool"]

[Text: LIMAL NO 4EYA!!!!!] <- I have no clue what this means [Text:Murder ??? Matter ???? really at c?????] <- Again, no clue what this means

[Text: Uzi Dos-] [Text: Yeaahhhh, I'm not reading that]

Location: Khan's closet where Uzi steals the "Door Master" key from

"Yeah, everyone has a picture of their family where one member is mysteriously ripped out in their closet."/s -Liam Vickers, paraphrased from a reddit AMA

[Text: WDF of outpost 9 [Having faithfully made a slab of metal that can be a wall but also not a wall, on the 11th day of December, three thousand and ???]

[Text: You cannot be murdered by scary robots when .... a door, (unless they open it) A scientific]

I find it interesting that the DD's are referred to as "Murder Drones," which is not their technical name. It seems to be something only the WD colonies use

Fun fact: this line is a bit of a meme in the MD community

Plot: Uzi manages to lie her way out of the WD colony, enters the Corpse Spire, and finds the required part for her railgun. As she goes to leave, she's attacked by a DD, who she defeats with her railgun, only for it's head to regenerate.

[shearlin]

Word count: 2395

Chapter 6: Wind

First || << Previous || Next >>

A day late but it's here!

This is a silly chapter, a tiny break from having angst in the first section :) I really like it. It inverts the formula of the previous chapters but I think it turned out okay.

A bit of a behind the scene update: I... might have scrapped 5k words of the 9th chapter because I didn't like how it was turning out. I've planned out and locked a new outline for it, but yeah I am really slow to write something new (that's the reason I've prewritten this fic before posting it excluding that last chapter, because 9 weeks is plenty of time, right?) and I hope I will be able to finish it on time, but... yeah :/

Anyway, Wind chapter is here! Enjoy :D

Barely a day has passed and Legend was already fed up. Worst part? He only had himself to blame.

He was justified as far as he was concerned. Not only was Ravio clearly going through his stuff and renting his adventure gear - again - they also only had a half an hour or so to spare to make a detour to his house and allow Legend to swap his gear and for all of them to restock potions and arrows at Ravio’s shop. They were in the middle of pursuit of a group of monsters. Who knew, what would the horde do if they let them get too far ahead or if the chain would be able to go back to his house once they finish the job.

The standard argument he had with Ravio almost every time he returned home after the merchant decided to move in, about whether the rental of his old gear was a good idea or not took him… more than they realised. 

So he kind of… shoved everything in sight into his bags and stormed off.

Well, not everything everything. He had a very good and clear reason to pack every single item he did and to leave those he didn’t behind.

If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.

If he could just remember what those reasons were now, that would be great.

So here he was. In another Hyrule, a day later, in the middle of the clearing where they made a camp to rest in for a day or two after the hard battle, trying to sort through the haphazardly grabbed items and somehow make his bag manageable again. He swore to every deity he knew the name of, if he would reach for one thing only to take out something completely different that was in its spot one more time- he was going to lose it.

“Need a hand with that, vet?” Four asked, keeping his distance outside of the circle of chaos around the other hero, doing impressively well to hide his amusement at the situation.

Four, among the others, tried to appeal to his reason when he was stuffing six-adventures-worth of items into his pouches. Only the fear of possible retaliation from the man with an entire arsenal in his back pocket stopped the ‘I told you so’s from spilling out.

“Do not touch my stuff,” he growled in response, putting all his seeds with the slingshot and the seed shooter - I never use scent seeds. Why do I still keep them with the rest? - and fishing out yet another shovel from the pile on the left, from between the different rods and canes. He knew he wanted to bring a backup to avoid the awkward situation from a week ago, when they were lacking in the equipment department but by Din this was an overkill.

Maybe they had a point. Maybe talking with Ravio distracted him too much after all…

“Why do you even have this many shovels? And why did you brin-? The question died on smithy’s lips at the murderous gaze Legend sent his way. “I’ll umm… I’ll be over there if you change your mind.”

With that, Four retreated to Sky and Hyrule on the other side of the camp, the three of them watching the whole ordeal from a safe distance.It didn’t mean he was left alone. Oh no. Far from that.

Read the rest on Ao3!

[vin-sommerfugl]

Telling you about my worst experience with a tarotist!!!! [FROM INSTAGRAM]

Guys if I'm completely real with you, I am excited to tell you about this because I like gossip and I want to let it out of my system. This was a horrible experience and I hope more tarot readers, read this one.

So I think It was in April 2022 (?) Something like that. I was participating in a reading give away with some account that for me was completely trustworthy and everything. I manifested so hard and it was so for me, that I won the first place of this giveaway.

So, yes, the day of the reading arrives. I was feeling so excited, because my questions were very interesting and I was needing very much to know about these topics. I was at the lowest point of my life, I need you to know this. In that time, I was so in touch with witchcraft and spirituality, and I was not a beginner anymore (or that was what I was thinking), I knew some stuff about this, so my first question was: "I am seeing a lot of signs that a God is reaching out, who is it?" Guys I was so depressed that I needed a divine support/supporter.

The tarot reader does what they do and they say: "there are two gods that are reaching out to you. They are Gods of death, one of them is a Goddess and a God". They never told me who was it, neither the God or the Goddess.

They go right to the next question and I ask: I am manifesting a guy, I would love to be with him, he is the one, he is my type, completely. Will this guy come to me at the end of the day, like some day when I'm ready? They said: Okay so this question have something to do with the previous question... I'm like: What the heck? They said this time: "let's talk about the offerings of these Gods, the God is offering you this guy, like just as you want it, with all the qualities, the virtues, the traits you want him, out of the mold, just made as you desire". At this point, I'm completely flabbergasted, this exceeds my expectations. "The Goddess, on the other hand, offers you knowledge, a lot of knowledge, nothing about this guy", It didn't surprise me, of course.

They say this time: "if you choose the God, he's going to give him to you, if you become her practitioner and you make offerings to him, he will give you this boy as I told you, but there is a situation here. A relative which you consider close to you, is gonna die soon in a tragic car crash, this is not because of you, this is her destiny, her time is over". They proceed to describe her and I already knew who was it, my anything who was too young TO FREAKING DIE was the person described. Can you imagine the weight this put on my shoulders, all the anxiety, the sadness? I was already low low but this? Destroyed me. I wanted to puke so hard. The tarotist continued and said: "You will meet him (my manifestation guy) in the trip to this situation with your relative" and adds details and blah blah. "If you choose the Goddess, the Goddess will give your relative a paceful death, she will die while sleeping, and the guy will appear eventually in this trip but maybe not as you wanted that much detailed, he's going to reach you anyways" I was SHOCKED, SHOOOOOCKED, PARALIZED, SCREAMING, AND PUKING INTERNALLY.

So, about half an hour later, we are done and I cannot even breath well, I didn't sleep not even a minute that night, I made my mom cry because I was too sad that it was so evident, I wanted to k word myself, literally.

Okay, so let's talk about the aftertime shall we? I chose one of them, I made them an altar, everything, my relative never died (she will, but maybe not soon) the guy never showed up and the one of the Gods never did neither. Not even in my dreams, in my room, in other part of my house, NEVER. All the anxiety I lived through was for nothing, the pressure, everything. This experience made me stay away for a year and a few months completely from spirituality and witchcraft, I couldn't hear any of that or hear anything related to deities, for sure it was a trauma. Did I do something wrong? And that's why he/she was never shown to me? Maybe but my relative's situationship? I do not concede that, nor do I forgive what was told to me.

I was afraid to judge the tarot reader because they told me that they worked with Hecate, I was scared to even think about them in a bad way, but I reflected and I think that the deities know very well that I have a lot of respect for them and I am only a human, I don't know what happened that day, but it was horrible and maybe it was part of what I harvested or something I had to learn.

Tarotists, be careful with how you say something to someone, I know that we are responsible for what we ask you and what we want to know, but still. Thank you for reading.

[beuatifulbuttercup]

Idea I just had and if I had any writing talent in fanfics I would write:

also this was not beta read so prepare for bad grammar lol

Luke had just betrayed the camp. Tension was high and the counselors were trying to assure younger campers that things would be okay. Some of the campers who are going to join Luke are biding their time until the night. Lou Ellen was nervously sitting in the Big House waiting for Chiron who had called her there. He enters the Big House quietly and goes up to Lou Ellen.

"Lou Ellen do you know why I called you here?" Chiron trotted up to where Lou Ellen was sitting.

"If this is about Luke I swear I had no idea! I-I didn't do anything!" Lou Ellen said frantically. Who could blame her? She was a daughter of a minor deity, a chthonic one at that. People had a tendency to blame her and her brother, Alabaster, when things go wrong.

"I know Lou Ellen, and I believe you. However, you are correct in thinking that Luke's recent actions are the reason I brought you here today," Chiron sighed. He was looking everywhere but at Lou Ellen. His normally wise and cheerful eyes seemed darker and his brushy brows were furrowed. "I alongside Mr.D have deducted that multiple campers will follow Luke. It is highly likely that they knew of the plan and knew that they would betray camp."

Lou nodded. She had come up with the same conclusion when she found out about Luke. She may only be 10 but she was incredibly street smart especially for her age. While she didn't buy into the rumors of who may or may not betray camp (mostly because they were all the children of minor gods and unclaimed kids) she knew there was at least some merit in the rumors. "You don't think that I'm going to betray the camp, do you?"

Chiron smiled slightly at that. "No Lou Ellen, I do not. There are many reasons for why but I won't go over then right now, there is a more difficult matter to discuss at the moment."

"Is it about my brother?"

"Sadly it is," Chiron replied. Lou Ellen took in a deep breath. She loved her brother and was very defensive over him almost as much as he was with her.

"Al is way too smart to join Luke! He w-would never do that!" Lou Ellen practically stood up from her her seat. But deep, deep, deep down inside her she felt like she was trying to convince herself more than Chiron.

"Lou Ellen, I understand this is hard but this is not a baseless accusation. Alabaster, along with Luke, Ethan, and Chris have all been seen sneaking out of camp. Argus told me. At first I did not think much of it, Luke was a cabin counselor and has been here for five years after all. I trusted him and he always came back with all four half-bloods alive. But since Luke attacked Percy and both Ethan and Chris have left I do not believe it was so innocent," Chiron explained thoroughly. Lou Ellen fidgeted with the pins on her satchel. "Alabaster is the only one that has not left. I believe something or someone is holding him back.

Lou Ellen's eyes widened in shock. She felt her mouth get dry and her heart began to pump. "It's me, isn't it?

Chiron nodded sadly. "I am afraid you are. I believe Alabaster is going to try to recruit you to join Luke."

Lou Ellen didn't say anything, she couldn't figure out what to say or how to say it. This was different than all the other times the campers called them villains . This was Chiron explaining a situation and the worst part was it all made sense. It made sense why they snuck out. It made sense why Chiron would think that. And it made sense on why Alabaster stayed. That was the worst part. She couldn't think of a way to argue with Chiron because as far as she could see he was right. That is what hurt. Lou Ellen felt herself choke up and she took a shaky breath.

"I understand that this is difficult. I am so, so sorry that this is happening to you Lou Ellen," Chiron said as he reached out to put his hand on her shoulder. "And I'm sorry for asking you this. Alabaster will try to recruit you and we think it would be wise if you said yes."

"Why?"

"Normally we would ask an older camper however I do not know where they are meeting. You are a safe option," Chiron said in advance.

"Chiron, what are you talking about?" Lou Ellen asked.

"Mr.D and I think it would be smart to have a spy."

This came from multiple thoughts I had. The first was how Silena was low-key a bad spy because she got caught/gave herself up. Then it went to how a good spy never gets caught. Then it turned into a question; how did they know to check the labyrinth. Normal answer, well it was probably smart to check them since they could lead to camp. Fun answer, there was a spy working for them who told them that they were using it. Then spy Lou Ellen was born. Do I think it is a little weird that they chose Lou Ellen who would be super young, yes. Do I also think it makes some sense and offers a cool plot, also yes.

[walkingwiththegods1]

Why not feeling to Gods or Spirits, at all... Is not really a bad thing?!  (Or... Why the contrary, is sometimes a real problem!)

  I readed a few notes a few weeks ago, of people talking of feeling left behind or insecure; because they can't feel to The Gods, so I decided to wrote my experience; so they doesn't feel that way, because at least; all that can't feel The Gods, are the vast majority; and the rest of the Pagans said that they can really contact to Deities, but mostly speaked of the good side. I’m not very vocal about me, and neither of my personal experiences; but, by knowing the pain of my fellow pagans; I decided to left my apprehension behind: I will speak of the not so lovely parts, today.

   I'm a Psychic, since I can remember: I can see Spirits since I was very little, and with the pass of time; I started to feel energies, and being affected by them.

  The First Deity that contacted me, was Artemis; that never leaves me alone in my house, while my brothers and sister played far from me; and I feel less afraid around her. Many years later, the second Deity that contacted me; was Loki. (I didn't knew it in that moment: He had to saves me six years later, to realizes that the voice I hearded when a was a very unhappy kid; giving me courage while I was looking to Sirius, was his!) The third Deity that appeared in my life, was a Goddess from The Caribbean; that helps me to defend myself; when both the private school and my house, were turned for me; in hell! By the time I was 17 years old, I have already 12 Deities that regurlarly; contacted me. The reasons of why they passed from unexpected guesses, to permanently staying; are an complete mistery to me, till this day. (...Maybe is because, I never was a normal human being, by start...)

   But, in that time or today; well... "Not all is rosy!", as you may think: There is a Deity, that doesn't care if the moment to contacted me; is really a very bad timing for me, and; I had even pass some very unnerving moments, during that interventions. That Deity, has a name...

   ...That Deity, is called: Guabancex!

   The story of why The Goddess of The Hurricanes, contacts a simple mortal girl; is something I will tell in other day, but... What I can say, is that her energy is something that I can hardly ignore. It took me YEARS, to acted almost normal around other people; when she started to speaks to me, or started to mades me see visions of things to come; but, in the meantime... Many embarrasing moments. (People known or even unknown, asking me if I was okay; while she was around with this huge energy traspassing my body, or; when she was showing me," The next horrible disaster that will 100% strikes, and destroys everything... And, to anyone!")

   The worst moment, (And when I started to take measures) was 10 years ago...

   I was in a Medical Center, making some tests; and while I was waiting for my ticket number, while looking at the screen; it happens: Her energy, suddenly appearing; and the only thing I did, was pleading in my mind; "...Not here! ...Not in front of everybody!..." It didn't work: The vision she makes me saw, plus her energy; puts me in a weird state: Aware of the world around me, but... Aware of the vision, too! The worst part, is that I was seated inclined while this was happening; so nobody will saw that I was trembling enough, that to somebody with a sharp vision and close enough; could notices. A man in his mid 40's with glasses notices it, and asked me: "Are you, OK?!" (He looks alarmed... So do I!)  The only thing I could do, was a lie by saying to him: "I'm Okay! Just... I feel a bit cold, thanks!"

   After I backed to home, I feel awful: I hate lying, but telling the truth; wasn't a good idea, neither! What I could have said?! "I'm just in trance from visions of a Goddess, from a culture that died out more than 500 years ago?!" RIGHT... (...If I wanted to spend two or three days in jail accused of witchcraft, been locked for life in a Mental Facility; or... Been killed by some Christian Fanatic, that thinks that I talk with Demons!)  

   After I recovered a bit, I talked to her and told her; to "NEVER BACK TO DO THAT, AGAIN!" (It seems that works: I can still feels her energy and see her visions, when I far from home too; but... People never back to ask me if I'm ill, or to look at me in a suspicious way; again...)

   I have seen Evil Spirits too, mostly scaring me; chasing me, harrasing me; and even trying to ended my life, since I was a kid. (I will save you the horrible details, but I think this happened to me; because I'm able to feel Spirits, in ways that most people can't even imagine; and sadly... That turns me in a sort of "Spirits Magnet" for both, good and bad spirits)  

   The thing with Guabancex?!... Well... It really, SUCKS!  But... In my general terms, between number 1; (Not the worst thing that ever happen in my life) to 10, (the worst thing that ever happen in my life) then...  Is definitly, a 6!

   So, if you are dealing with the fact that you can't feel Spirits or Deities; and even started to feel a little envious or doubting of their love, then remember this: Better see them in sincronicities and with symbols while you are awake; or in your dreams, than having to train yourself to fake being "normal"; when the Spirits or Gods show up to you; while you are around of people, with the possibility that they will reacts badly against you; if they know that you have this kind of ability... Or being left alone or mocked, 'cause nobody wants to be around of, "The weird young that talks with Spirits!"

   ...We live in a World where, being different; is bad... And being weird, is still... "A sin!..."  

    Be grateful, if you can't feel The Spiritual World; so strongly: It means, that you can still hang out with your love ones; and do many things you love to do, and still be able to blends in The World; when you feel the need to be in it, too. (...Is something I don't know if I could ever have or do, someday.)

 Have a nice day in being different, unique; and in be perfectly you!.. So Be It!

[cottageshadowwitch]

You're right, I didn't ask for my friend's input regarding my path or the deities that I work with. It was so random and I was at work at the time and we're super busy so all I could respond with was, "How do you figure?," because there's a part of me that wants to know more just to see where this person's frame of mind is. I forgot that this is the same person who believes in starseeds and indigo children. I'm pretty sure that I just did the equivalent of a smile-and-nod because I was just really surprised and had never heard of this one before and I have a difficult time trying to tell people off on things that I am not familiar with. To me it definitely holds a dangerous mindset that can have terrible consequences. I fully agree with the whole speaking for deities because that was my first thought. Had this been a random person I'd have likely told them my thoughts but given that it was a friend that I had forgotten was even into this stuff, it threw me off. I feel like I really need to say something to my friend because this is just adding on to a bunch of things that are constant red flags. If I am not mistaken, this is the same friend who also thinks that L*lith is a goddess and is okay to work with and works especially for her. I just wish that I could be as vocal and as strong as you or as I talk to my dad about these issues because when it comes to confronting people who are my buddies, I just get scared, and I know that it's the wrong response to have. What I NEED to do is have the same fire and conviction that I did when I finally went off on a person for trying to tell me what Anubis thinks and how repainting a figure of Anubis is like defacing the Bible, and the person wasn't even a pagan or a witch and thinks that the Burning Times happened and that Wicca is an ancient religion and I just need THAT fire of a response. Even if I lose a friend. Because, honestly, whenever stuff like this happens, it just immediately makes me feel uncomfortable and less willing to share my pagan path with even my friends.

"I'm not sure if I mentioned it in my last ask, but my friend brought up Irish and Scottish heritage being something that the Egyptian deities just love working with due to a Princess Scotia and that person founded Scotland and Ireland. I haven't found anything that states that this was anything more than a myth/legend. But somehow, if you're this, the Egyptian deities just love working with you more. As she told me, the deities she works with from Egypt "call her people 'the sons and daughters of Scotia'." Mind you, she's American, like me and has Irish heritage. I do not. I just feel a really strong connection with Anubis that feels like it came out of nowhere and I feel really anxious about people feeding me stuff that just feels dangerous. I likely had the worst response ever to her, which was just trying to find out more about what she believed in and in the end the conversation went nowhere. For the last two weeks I've been dealing with getting sick twice, my dad getting sick, and work which has had my stress and anxiety level way too high, so I haven't been able to formulate any sort of intelligent response. That and the fact that I'm concerned that when people tell me "don't let anyone dictate to you your pagan path and how you work with your deities" also applies to my friend and so I shouldn't judge, There's a part of me that wants to just take my whole connection with Anubis to her just to see how she'd react to it, but at the same time, it's a highly sensitive and serious matter for me that I haven't even brought up in its entirety with my bestie for the fact that I'd rather work on it by myself and I'm just, I guess for a lack of a better word... scared."

I feel like it's always more difficult to confront friends than strangers or familiy members (as long as one isn't dependent on them anymore that is). So please don't feel bad if you weren't able to voice your thoughts and feelings during a talk.

There is always the option to circle back to that when you've thought about it and feel like you want to talk about it. And there's also always the option to not talk about something. You're allowed to agree to disagree. If that friendship makes you not feel good or safe I'm wondering if it's a healthy friendship for you to stay in though. And I'm saying this as someone who has let go of so-called friends and has also kicked a family member out of her life as a teenager.

So I know how that's being easier said than done but so far there are no regrets and it has helped me greatly. Not saying you should break off the friendship though!

Hopefully you were able to relax and recharge these past few days. Even better if you're still able to do so until next year.

[snowy-equinox]

Food Offerings & Libations for Deities

One recurring beginner pagan question-quickly-turned-pet-peeve is “Can I give this deity X?” It implies offerings are risky things, victim to a deity’s pickiness. There is a too-common fear among beginners that the “wrong” offering will anger the deity at worst and cause hiccups in the relationship at best.

However, just saying you can give anything to a deity can be dismissive of the impacts different offerings can have. I’d argue offerings fall into a hierarchy, and the better question to ask is not “can I give this to Deity?”, but rather “Does this offering match the energy I want for this interaction?”

Small footnote: UPG (unverified personal gnosis) means a part of one’s practice they believe in that has no historical basis. SPG (shared personal gnosis) is when multiple people believe in the same facet, but it has no historical worship.

UPG – Poseidon has no historical association with strawberries. I gave Him strawberries in exchange for a favor, the favor was fulfilled quickly, so I now believe that Poseidon really likes strawberries.

SPG – Many modern Hermes worshipers offer coffee to Him because it fits His energetic nature, but He has no historical association with coffee.

First things first, there are very few limits on what can be an offering

My rule of thumb is that as long as it’s edible, it’s good. I wouldn’t give a deity something rotted, moldy, expired, or out of the garbage.

Most deities do not have any offerings that would offend Them; you can give Them pretty much anything. Even something modern like Twix or Red Bull would be accepted!

There can be exceptions, like offering Jewish entities non-kosher food or giving Aphrodite pig products, but it’s usually common knowledge among Their worshipers, so if in doubt you can always ask if there’s anything you shouldn’t give.

First Rank – Non-UPG/SPG Offerings

The most informal offerings are those that are mainly given because they’re on hand. These are offerings of convenience, usually due to the pagan being in the broom closet or being unable to acquire a more deity-specific offering.

If you can’t afford a formal offering, or if it just isn’t available to you geographically or legally (18- Dionysus worshipers, I see you), this option may feel lazy but an offering is an offering at the end of the day! The gods understand your limitations.

This offering is also good for anytime you want a small or casual interaction. Remember those cartoons where the kid asks for Christmas everyday, only to realize that things are only special when they’re infrequent? Non-UPG/SPG offerings allow us a more convenient offering for our smaller interactions, so when we desperately need to ask for the Big Stuff, those formal offerings feel like grander gestures.

Second Rank – Historical Offerings for the Pantheon

These offerings are a step up from the first, mainly because they’re slightly more personalized. Many pantheons had “default offerings” which could be given to any god in that pantheon.

Many of them are usually staples, like bread or alcohol. This means that they can be wonderfully easy to get, and they’re often common enough that if you’re a minor in the broom closet, your parents will have some in the house somewhere.

Some pagans will forego the non-UPG/SPG offering rank entirely, preferring to only give historical “default” offerings as their casual offering. This is valid!

Third Rank – Deity-Specific Offerings

This is the most formal, and most personalized, of the offerings. These are offerings you associate with the deity, whether it’s historical, UPG, or SPG.

Anytime you want a formal interaction, these types of offerings will be your best bet for creating that mood. Remember that the energy of a situation can be modified by our psychology and mood; giving Apollo slices of a chocolate orange will likely feel more fulfilling and pagan-y than giving Him some Sour Patch Kids, though both are modern foods.

Again, it is 100% okay if you cannot provide these types of offerings. While they may be best for formal situations, other offerings will work well, especially if you focus on the interaction itself instead of kicking yourself over the offering.

At the end of the day, whether or not an interaction was successful depends on the interaction between you and the deity. Yes the offering is a part of it, but it’s not as make-or-break as some people seem to believe; it’s just a bit of generosity. The gods want to connect to you & your energy, and to do that, They just need you.

🍂 Happy Paganism! 🍂

[coal15]

Here's a teaser for ch.8 of All Roads Lead Back, tentatively titled Pride Before The Fall.

The staredown. 

Fraud versus Faithful, who will blink first?

After processing his initial shock at being found out, the Metatron’s usual smug confidence returns. He glares at Aziraphale and without averting his eyes calls out to the retreating co-conspirators behind him, “get back here!” 

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. A wise motto. The ideal scenario would have been for the Metatron to admit he’d been outplayed and surrender without a fight. Luckily for the side of good, however, Muriel, Aziraphale, and Crowley had sense enough to realise the odds of such a dream coming true were slim indeed. Hence the rest of their elaborate ploy. 

Look worried, Aziraphale reminds himself. No no, not worried yet. Confused. Yes. Look confused. 

“Aziraphale, do you know how easy it is going to be for us to turn all of Heaven against you? We need only tell the other Angels that you attempted to undermine my voice-God’s voice-as part of a treacherous plot to usurp the Almighty. I mean, can you imagine such a wicked thing!” The Metatron shudders. “And  I assure you most of them will hold true to faith, just as they have since I took over the show.”

Michael and Uriel resume their place behind the blasphemous leader who holds their allegiance, and Aziraphale can plainly see their confidence is restored.

All going as expected so far. Brilliant. 

The Metatron gives his stupidly obedient minions a polite nod before continuing the villainous monologue. “After all, what is a deity without faith? Nothing. And in the place we have her trapped she is nothing. Merely a concept. One that I have embodied quite effectively for well nigh on a thousand years now.” 

“A thousand? Y’mean literally, it’s been that long?” Crowley asks, genuinely surprised. Of course he’d assumed the Metatron’s invisible insurrection happened some time back, but a thousand years? Insidious or not, he does have to admit successfully maintaining such an illusion for so long is an impressive feat. Not an admirable one, of course. But undeniably impressive. Though his heart does break a bit, knowing how much the revelation must upset his Angel. 

“Yes I mean literally, you presumptuous fool! One thousand years." The Metatron’s appetite for power laps up the defeat of his enemies like tasty morsels.  

“Beware the blinding effect of arrogance, Metatron,” Aziraphale cautions. “Only God’s chosen could possibly create flesh and blood life out of nothing, so once we demonstrate-”

“A demonic illusion, nothing more." The Metatron waves away the warning with an indignant huff. “Lifelike, perhaps, but given your choice of lover . . . ” his eyes flick briefly to Crowley, “it does seem a more likely story than God sharing her most exclusive power with another being, wouldn’t you say?” 

Okay, NOW look worried . . .

“In fact, I can make the case that God only allowed this Demon back into Heaven as a test. In her depthless grace she so dearly wanted to believe his change of heart was genuine, but alas . . .” The Metatron sighs heavily in an artificial a show of sadness. “Instead she has discovered not only does he still belongs to Hell, but has even managed to lead one of our purest Angels astray. The Supreme Archangel himself turned agent of Satan.” He grins, calm and unworried. "Who do you suppose has the upper hand now, Aziraphale?”

[lavendertales]

In the eye of the beholder—Alfie Solomons x f!reader** (part 3)

summary: things get more intimate between you and Alfie albeit the danger and you both come to realize your future together needs to be discussed.

word count: 3.2k

WARNINGS: cunnilingus, face sitting, unprotected piv, hints of breeding kink.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: last part! thank you so much for all the support and feedback! hope you enjoy this, my lovebugs!

gif: @michaelgreys​ 

It must’ve been hours since the incident and Alfie still wouldn’t look at you. Well past midnight now, he was muttering some apparent nonsensical things to himself whilst looking around your house for things he hadn’t asked you about.

Now more than ever, you needed him. In all of the ways you once deemed as impossible.

“Alfie.”

No response; he placed a blanket at the foot of your bed and was staring at his gun still, grunting alongside his murmurs. You walked over to him and placed a hand on his sturdy, broad shoulder to get his attention.

“Alfie,” you repeated, stronger this time. “Look at me. Please?”

“I should’ve shot them fucking dead sooner,” he replied, head lowered into the ground. “The whole lot of ‘em. Shot their fucking brains out and watch them splatter all over the fuckin’ walls before they even had a fuckin’ chance of getting close—“

Then you noticed it. He was hunched over, head in the ground, teeth clenched and hands froze on his gun. You’d never seen him this angry and incoherent and you began fearing he’d get hurt somehow.

With shaky hands, you took the gun from him and placed it on your nightstand, intertwining his fingers with his. That’s what ultimately broke Alfie down and made him look at you, so beautifully disheveled he felt the need to thank whatever deity above for the gift of eyesight.

“Alfie, I’m okay,” you said, recognizing the fact that he was, to some extent, also in shock, only he was reacting differently. “I’m alright, thanks to you.”

“That fuckin’ wop of Sabini came into my shop—my shop, alright?! And they were going to fuckin’ kill you! You! They’ve had worse in mind, don’t you think otherwise, luv… they would’ve done unspeakable things.”

“But they didn’t. You saved me.”

Alfie laughed, the sound edging on hysteria. “You got in this mess… because of me. I didn’t reckon you was stupid and not realize—“

“I am not stupid, Alfie Solomons. Watch your tongue.”

First time he’s heard you be firm, yet feisty and he had quite the craving for it. But the pain and anger he felt mere hours ago overshadowed anything else.

He nodded repeatedly, seemingly carrying a mental conversation with himself, and then he looked at you. His emerald eyes were suddenly tired and they carried guilt.

“I would’ve torn them apart limb by limb,” Alfie groaned. “Took out their tongues, feed them to dogs, then cut off their balls… and then kill them. That was no fucking way to treat a woman. My woman.”

You suppressed a gasp, allowing him some space to decompress albeit the fact that you held his hands tightly into yours.

“No one, and I mean fuckin’ no one… lays a hand on you. Ever. In any way.”

“I think they’ve got the message,” you told him sweetly. “They’re gone now.”

“You shouldn’t have seen that. I never wanted you to be a part of this nonsense.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Alfie broke the hold you had over him to pace around the room, clearly still deep in thought.

“You’ve seen the worst of me,” he said. “You’ve seen what I do, the people I deal with… and this is not even the worst I can do. There you have it. So the question is now, luv… why are you still here?”

Nearly breathless, you remained still and drew a deep breath before you spoke again.

“I thought it was obvious.”

“Enlighten me.”

“I love you.”

The silence that came after your declaration was earsplitting. Alfie frowned, unable to believe his ears. He approached you in two quick steps and you gulped, standing your ground.

“I do,” you continued boldly, yet awfully fragile considering the events of the night. “I… I never felt safer or more cared for than when I am with you.”

“It doesn’t make any—fuckin’ sense, now does it? How can you—“

“Love does not make sense! It’s not rational. It’s… crazy and… messy and passionate and fragile… all at once. Love… consumes you, fills you up and gives you strength and weakens you at the same time.”

Now that Alfie could understand. He’s never felt more secure in anything in his life ever since you showed up at the bakery and each moment he got to spend with you was an endless source of goodness.

But when he saw that man pointing the gun at your temple, his hand reaching below your waist… he lost all sense of reality. It was that treacherous moment that brought him the knowledge true to your words. Love was strength and weakness, confidence and weakness all wrapped in one big, messy lump.

“So if you’re going or fire me and ask me to leave… at least you should know where I stand,” you said softly.

“I don’t deserve this.”

You frowned, closing the space between the two of you further. “What?”

“You.”

You could see the pain and desperation on his face. There was no mask to be worn anymore. Alfie was too exhausted and—oh goodness—terrified to pretend he was the same big, threatening man the whole town knew him as. You realized how terrified he must’ve been to feel all those things, to allow himself to care so deeply that he was ready to disembowel someone without a single trace of remorse.

You said nothing as you finally reached him, cupping one of his cheeks and watching his reaction. Alfie closed his eyes, shutting them as if in pain, and then you grabbed both his cheeks, thus forcing him to look at you. You sought his eyes with need, craving comfort and intimacy.

“You do,” you told him at last. “You deserve good things as well.”

“You’re no… good thing. You’re the best thing in my life.”

Alfie opened his eyes, locking with yours; his were emanating remorse and softness while yours were simply desperate. Desperate for his touch, his warmth and all that he could offer to you.

You smiled, caressing his the soft flesh of his cheek with your thumb. “I’m here, Alfie. And I love you.”

Alfie muttered your name, still insecure, but you took the lead.

“You don’t have to say it back or anything,” you reassured him. “I just… wanted you to know.”

Alfie had a way with words; harsh, menacing words, that is. Soft-spoken ones, declarations of pure intentions and feelings were certainly not in his agenda, so you wanted to spare him the effort. It was futile anyway, when all you craved was to feel him.

You saw eye the eye—or so you chose to think—because the next moment, all you knew were Alfie’s plush lips on yours. You opened your mouth, let him swallow you whole and explore your cavities; you could feel everything he felt, from fear and affection to impatience and neediness. The kiss grew from tender to desperate in a matter of seconds, as if Alfie was afraid he might lose you if he’d let you go. Your hands cupped his cheeks as he pulled you in, gluing your body to his. You turned into a puddle under his touch, in his arms, and felt a shiver run down your spine when Alfie’s hands roamed your back, eager to touch you.

Alfie broke the kiss to draw in a quick breath before moving his hands to the back of your thighs and hoisted you up without a problem and carrying you to your bedroom. Your eyes never left his, even when he gently dropped you to the edge of the bed, your legs dangling off of it. You watched him as he reached to the tie of your pants, dragging them down, followed by your underwear. Air got stuck in your lungs, refusing to exit your body as you stared at him, kissing his way up your legs and thighs, spreading your legs apart.

“A-Alfie—“

He hummed, not noticing your nervousness at first. When you said his name a second time, more decisive rather than with pleasure, he looked up from in between your legs and remarked your expression.

You froze. You had no idea how to explain it to him, or how you should even begin. But Alfie’s intellect came to your aid.

“Don’t tell me no one’s went down on you, luv,” he said incredulously.

You shook your head.

“How many brought you what they thought was pleasure before?”

“Two.”

“Cunts.”

You finally exhaled, more amused than anything. Anticipation had you in a cold grip, making you squirm and tremble with excitement.

“Those are no men,” Alfie continued, one hand gripping the pillowy flesh of your thigh. “A real man eats well.”

You felt Alfie’s ragged beard tickle the inside of your thighs as he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your cunt first, then he started to work his way to your center.

The first lick he gave was tentative, languid and careful. You instantly moaned, head backwards in an already mind-boggling ecstasy that you’ve never felt before. Alfie’s touches grew more confident with each of your moans and he began lapping at your folds, his nose nudging your bud. You grasped the sheets and moaned louder; his warm mouth buried into your core was more than you could handle. He licked dutifully, adding a finger to his ministrations, and your hands immediately went to his hair, tugging once in a while by accident. But the gesture did nothing more than spur Alfie on, make him grunt right through you and eat you alive.

“Fuckin’ hell, you taste like heaven,” Alfie grunted from down below, his thumb rubbing your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Every word you knew fled from your mind; there was nothing to know but Alfie’s mouth, expertly pleasing you, and you fleetingly realized that you’ve never known pleasure before. What you thought was good twice before, paled in comparison to Alfie. Every flick of his tongue sent you into overdrive and soon you started to frantically rub yourself on him.

Alfie’s grip over you tightened and just as you felt an unfamiliar burn in your lower belly that had you craving for even more, he stopped. You couldn’t even protest; the bed sunk with his weight as he pulled you over him, your legs on his either sides of his face. Completely taken aback, you struggled to catch your breath as you stood atop of him.

“Go on, luv,” Alfie encouraged you. “Ride my face.”

“Wh—What?”

“Take what you want.”

Albeit your insecurity, when Alfie’s fingers dug into the warm flesh of your thighs, you allowed yourself to forget everything and live in the moment.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth when Alfie pressed his mouth against your cunt again. He devoured you like a starving man and grabbed your ass to guide you with your movements. You quickly got the hang of it and forgone all of your inhibitions as you began rocking yourself on his face. Alfie was straight-up drinking from you and groaned huskily, sound that reverberated straight through your body.

The hot feeling returned, pooling in your belly, ready to be detonated. The release you didn’t even realize you so desperately craved hit you like a tidal wave. You came with a loud cry of his name, one that inflated his confidence and ego, yet Alfie kept lapping at your folds even as your legs were shaking on top of him. You started to get worried after a while, thinking how the man touched and pleased like he had been deprived for years and how he didn’t even bother coming up for air.

“Alfie…”

Your voice trailed off, unable to collect your thoughts into one coherent sentence. You clumsily removed yourself from his face, watching in shock as he licked his lips with utmost devilish delight. “Now that was a fuckin’ treat.”

Your ears reddened, flattery nesting easily in your chest. Alfie held you in his lap still, rising up to meet you in a fiery kiss, far more desperate than before. You felt how hard he’d grown, briefly admiring his dedication to you. When you broke the kiss, you did so only to stare at him for a little while, admire his strong yet beautiful features. The look in your eyes was more than just that of awe, it was gratitude, love.

The kiss deepened, making you unable to notice the precise moment Alfie flipped you over, crashing atop of you and guiding himself to your entrance. Your gasps and moans were a sweet serenade to his ears, and it still took him aback to have someone as wonderful as you think so highly of him and feel such strong emotions for him. He felt unworthy, even if you were so wildly responsive to his touches, spreading your legs eagerly for him and thus awakening some primal desire to cherish and possess the highest of treasures: you.

“Please… please,” you barely breathed.

“What you need from me, luv?”

“I want you. Please? I—I need to feel you.”

He could’ve easily came just from hearing your sweet pleas, your lovely yet desperate voice calling out to him like a siren.

Alfie was only a man, after all. He had weaknesses, and you were his biggest one. He couldn’t resist you under any form. So when his hand spread your legs once more and the tip of his cock, almost weeping by then, was pushing past your entrance with utmost care in the world, he knew he was a goner.

You pushed your head back on the pillow, eyes closed at the sensation, mouth agape as Alfie pushed into you. His warm breath lingered on your face, and you could tell he was just as erratic as you were. Usually a big talker, you noticed that in such an intimate moment, Alfie didn’t have much to say.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” he muttered, giving you an experimental roll of his hips that your mouth wide open at the sensation.

You bit your lower lip as Alfie started to move; you felt each languid drag of his cock through your walls, each motion setting you afire and taking you one step closer to the highest mountain of pleasure.

“Hear me, my luv? All mine.”

My. All mine.

The words got stuck in your brain on a loop and you nodded frantically, one leg around his waist and pulling him by his hair. Alfie leaned over and kissed you again—and again, and again, and again until he was running out of breath and his hips were clashing against yours in a more rapid pace once he deemed you were ready to feel him fully.

He was pushing inside of you more rapidly while your hands roamed on his back, fingernails digging into his muscles the more your walls contracted around him. You were getting so close that all you could do was breathe through your mouth.

“All yours,” you finally whispered in a frenzy.

Alfie grunted with pleasure and happiness, feeling his body burn. The sounds turned into guttural moans and, during the last few seconds of sanity, he slammed his hips into yours in hopes of bringing you to completion before him.

And it worked; you came with a loud moan and his name staining your lips, and Alfie followed mere seconds later with a shocking declaration.

“I fuckin’—love you—so fuckin’ much—“

Forehead pressed against yours, Alfie came, the feeling of his warm seed spilled inside you a forbidden pleasure of some sort. You welcomed all of him, every single drop of his passion and love he gave to you, and you reached for his lips again. God, you could never get enough of them.

Time was futile after that. Neither of you knew how long you’d spent there, with Alfie still inside of you and pecking your face adoringly and you caressing his cheeks.

“Did you mean it?” you asked eventually in the night. “When you said—“

“What did I tell you before?”

“That you never say what you don’t mean.”

“That’s right.”

You smiled, feeling full and content as if yesterday’s events hadn’t occurred.

“Am I still fired?”

Surprisingly, Alfie chuckled at your remark. “I may be a lo’ of things, but I’m no monster. Can’t fire someone after spending the night with them. Would be quite disrespectful of me, don’t you think?”

“Does this also mean you want me here, instead of some other filthy town?”

This time, Alfie was the one who caressed your cheek. His touch was gentle, as if he was afraid you’d crumble right underneath it.

“Always assume I want you here, with me, little one.”

He kissed your forehead before pulling out of you, leaving you with a terribly empty feeling. When he returned with a cloth to clean you, something inside of him revered the sight of you dripping with both your arousal.

“Perhaps one day it will stick,” you said, catching his attention.

“You want—?”

“Maybe.”

Alfie pressed the cloth gently onto your core, trying not to comment on that remark. But in his mind, the seed had been planted and thus an idea was born that very moment.

That night had been long. You and Alfie continuously found each other time and time again, flesh burning and itching with your presence, new throes of passion shouted with each thrust, each flick of the tongue and fingertips touch. The words I love you had been tossed around more than you would’ve ever thought possible; either whispered or moaned, you spent the night having Alfie buried balls deep inside you and reassuring him that you were undeniably his.

“No one’s gonna lay a finger on you, my luv,” he whispered as he removed a stray lock of hair from your face. “Ever.”

“I know. I feel the safest with you.”

You buried your face at his chest, his musky scent and the warmth of his skin wrapping you in a blanket of comfort. You allowed silence to intervene between the two of you and rest peacefully there while you enjoyed having Alfie’s arms wrapped tight around you.

“Marry me.”

You lifted your head and stared at him with disbelief. The first rays of sunshine were barely coming in through the window, beautifully illuminating the landscape that you and Alfie’s body painted together in the messy bed, and you could easily see the delight and seriousness displayed across his face.

“Are you serious?” you chuckled.

“I never say what I don’t mean. We went over this, luv.”

“I know. I know. I just… I wouldn’t have thought you’d ask me… that in such a moment.”

“You reckon there’s a better moment than this one right now?”

You supposed there wasn’t. It was just you and him, in the privacy of your home, the intimacy of your sheets, at the crack of dawn. A smile rose from the corners of your lips as you pulled him in and kissed him sweetly.

“Don’t leave me hangin’, my luv.”

“I think it’s obvious, Alfie.”

He chuckled, returning the kiss and feeling a ridiculous amount of happiness.

Alfie Solomons hasn’t truly known happiness before, but he was starting to think this right here was it. Pure bliss.

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[yandere--stuck]

The god of sleep has no dreams of his own. When Hypnos sleeps, it grants him the opportunity of visiting those of others, drifting along as on a gentle river. It’s comforting. Shards and glimpses of lives that aren’t his own, of people and places that won’t ever mean the same to him, the visions indirectly threaded by his fingers. There are far too many dreams for him to make, which is why most aren’t. He brings them to sleep, and their bodies do most of the work.

Regardless, it is his domain. Every mortal needs to sleep, whether they like it or not, which makes him an inevitable part of their life. A third of every human’s day rests in his hands. As payment, all he wants to do is observe, to be in their company. (Hypnos likes humans. They don’t notice him in sleep, or worship him in their days, but he doesn’t mind. It’s easier to handle being ignored when it’s not their choice, when it’s impossible for them to notice him, rather than his mom’s cold eyes passing through him like he’s a sliver of mist.

At least when he’s among the dreams of the living, he’s less alone. There’s no judgement, but no praise either.) With how many mortals and dreams there are to go around, it’s rare for him to visit more than once. Though it’s much rarer for anyone to take note of him. Most people aren’t aware they’re dreaming while doing so, being swept along by their dreams instead of having control, but you’re not one of those. You’re blessed with lucidity, morphing bits and pieces of the experience as you go. Most importantly...

You see him. You laugh. “Well, I didn’t think I was lonely enough to make up some guy to keep me company… Guess you learn something new every day!”

In one motion, you pinch his chin between your fingers and pull his face towards yours. He lets out a surprised noise, at the fact you can touch him in the first place, and the movement itself. And it’s a high and squeaky sound, one that makes him want to curl up in his blanket and slip from this dream to the next. You make no comment on it, only smiling wider.

“Ooooh, your eyes are golden! So pretty… Glad my subconsciousness has good taste, at least.” You add the last part to yourself, laughing again.

You don’t think he’s real, just some made up character of your dream. It’s no surprise you aren’t aware that you can’t dream about someone you’ve never seen before. For now, he’s glad to have you believe that. It’d be more humiliating if you knew a god was making such a fool out of himself, heat rising to his face. His tongue is limp in his mouth. When was the last time someone called him pretty? Had anyone ever called him that, and touched him so carelessly? You save him from the burden of speaking up first.

“What’s your name? Do you have one?”

He hesitates. If you knew who he was, you wouldn’t treat him the same anymore. “I don’t! But, um-!“

Hypnos knows and accepts what others think of him, knows that he’s no good at his job or much else, but if there’s one thing he would excel in, it would be here. He straightens his back a bit from its usual slouch, the tips of his feet grazing the ground as he floats. “I’m here to make sure you’re going to have a grand old time, you know? I know aaaall about having fun in dreams! Why, you could call me an expert! At your service.”

He does this stupid little bow, and immediately regrets it. You laugh, but not at him, and people don’t usually find him this entertaining, he thinks, and if you keep this up, it will become one of his favourite sounds.

“Alright, mister dream expert,” You say with a grin. “What did you have in mind?”

He helps you float like he does, and assists you at conjuring up whatever idea pops into your brain. Hypnos expected you , but that’s not all you do. You try to ask him questions about himself, even if you supposedly don’t think he’s real, and you actually listen. And when you tell him about yourself in return, he does the same. It’s fun, he’s having a good time, and he’s disappointed when he’s jolted awake because of someone walking too close past him. He’ll have to apologise for suddenly disappearing next time. (Next time? Does he want there to be a next time?)

Hypnos makes a habit out of visiting you. You’re not always aware you’re asleep, sometimes your dreams are the same as any other human’s. He savours those days too, at the insights into your life it offers him. However, it’s most enjoyable when you look at him with bright eyes and talk to him, and laugh at things he says and joke around at this side. There’s a warm tightness in his chest around you, he’s happy, he is, but also impossibly nervous to mess up and have your smile turn into a sneer. It’s surprising you even still want to be around him, if past experience is anything to go by, he isn’t any good at not annoying people. But you’re different. You haven’t insulted him at any point, either! You must really be some blessing.

Hypnos thinks he likes you. A lot. He’s never thought of it before, whether this is allowed or not. Never considered the possibility of forming a close bond through dreams. Hypnos decides that it is, and who would he even ask, isn’t he the deity of sleep? He’ll make his own rules, number one being that it’s totally a-okay to have dream friends! That you visit and think about all the time and spend all your time thinking up new fun ideas for! And sometimes you scratch their name into the margins of your lists while zoning out! He’s getting off track. (And, well, this all seems more like a problem exclusive to him…) What he wants most is to have you down here with him, to touch you and feel something, to have you around while you’re awake and asleep.

But to do that... It would be an offense to all sacred rules to meddle directly with the path the Fates had set out for you. Perhaps they’ll have some mercy on him for being family. Either way, he’s going to falsify your cause of death in the records. He's tired of being a bystander in your life. Hypnos doubts whether you can even remember him when you wake up. He isn’t exhausted in his normal way however, it’s no tugging at his eyelids or yawns hidden behind an open palm. This hurts. It’s an ache, an empty hole beyond his ribs. Your warmth needs to fill it, he’s sure. He wouldn’t be able to stand and watch as your life blossomed, how you would inevitably love someone else, be happy and forget about him all together. (It’s unfair. He's never had anyone that wanted be anything of his. Not a friend, not family, not a lover. And now you’re here, the first to not see him as a disgrace, and now he should let himself be stopped by some old rules?) Because compared to what someone right there with you could give, what did he have to offer? If he believed everyone else, he had nothing of worth to give anyone. All he had was this love, what he thinks is love. But you laugh with him, you seem happy, and what he knows of human life is suffering. So many terrible deaths, so many unresolved emotions, so many wishes that never came to be.

Hypnos could save you from it all. You would never have to worry about anything again. But he knows how much humans fear death: It’s reflected so often in their worst nightmares, after all. The last thing he wants to do is scare you.. How surprised you’ll be at suddenly finding out he’s real, not just a figment of imagination!

He’s giddy. The two of you could have be together forever! (And if you didn’t love him back, why would you smile at him like that? Why did you always say you were happy to see him return? He has neither experience in friendships or relationships, but he shares those sentiments, so you must love him too. Otherwise… He doesn’t want to think about it .)

So he visits you. Hypnos floats above your bed, watching down upon you. He caresses your face as you rest, watching you through lidded eyes. You called him it first, but you’re pretty too. He doesn’t care about your hair being a mess, or the dried drool on your chin, or how you lay in a weird position, legs and blanket all tangled up. Your soft breaths are adorable, and he wants to coo at you, to make your face turn warm instead of his.

The thought of his brother seeing you and taking your soul makes him uncomfortable, he wants this vision of you to be only his.

Your eyes crack open with a little groan and before you have the chance to struggle or cry out, he presses a kiss against your forehead, forcing some of his raw power into your frail, mortal body.

It shouldn’t hurt. He asked. Your form was never meant to take godly powers, it’s too overwhelming, destroying you from within, and you go limp within a second. It’s like you fell asleep. A sleep so deep you will never awaken again. (i know hypnos doesn’t govern dreams his sons do but i had an Idea,, hope u enjoyed!!)

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(THIS IS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE OH MY GOSH!!!!! You're so talented, this is written so beautifully, it's amazing!!!!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!! SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO POST!!! I've had a busy past few days ^^; I also hope it's okay that I had to edit it, or it'd be a big block of text, hehe. Thank you so much again!!!! 💚💚💚)

[dodo-begone]

Scrambled Eggs

Pairing: yan!Ranboo x reader, Yan!Tommy x reader, Yan! tubbo x reader, Yan!Purpled x reader

Request: I raise you: Hnfnnnnnnnnnn more Yandere minors but this time you're with the eggpire already (not on purpose but you get the idea)

Word count: 3k

Warning: yandere, the egg, obsession, cult (egg), kidnapping, cursing

A/n: this is all platonic. Nothing romantic. also oop this went a lot longer than i thought it would- I got really into it. Also uploaded this and didn't proof read it. I know there's at least one mistake in there- sorry in advance.

Ranboo

When this poor lad finds out you’re currently in the Egg’s clutches, he was shocked. Oh my gosh, didn’t you love him? Did you actually love him? If you really loved him, you wouldn’t have let the Egg gain control of you. That’s how “the power of love” works. Right?

He’ll go to you, begging and doing his absolute best to reason with you. In all honesty, trying to reason with you was as productive as asking Santa Clause for that new ferrari model-

But that didn’t stop him. He was too far to properly think things through. Now why don’t you come home with him? It’s not safe for you. This “Egg” doesn’t actually care for you. He cares for you though- You end up chasing him off, saying that you were happier with the Egg than anytime you were with him. Oh how the Egg has brainwashed you. It’s so bad for you, can’t you see? He’ll go through the cycle of attempting to save you a few times before it becomes too much for him.

Eventually he just goes to Phil, ranting about how you were controlled by the Egg now and he was scared for your safety. Oh god Phil what can he do to save you? Phil please help him, give him some guidance- anything! And after Phil? Well, he’d pray to any deity that’d listen. Only asking them to save you from your current plight. You weren’t safe and he loved you so much, he can’t lose you too.

Phil tires of this cycle very quickly. It’s pathetic how much Ranboo is upset by your situation. But he’s your friend and he cares for you so much; you’re a constant in his life. How can he not love you? So he’ll just give in during one of Ranboo’s pleading stages, saying that he’ll help Ranboo rescue you- which makes Ranboo very pleased. If it was this easy to end this toxic cycle, he would’ve done it ages ago.

They plan your rescue for weeks, almost a few months. Everything had to be absolutely perfect; any flaw that could allow the Egg to repossess you needed to be resolved. As time passed, Ranboo grew more anxious. He kept visiting you during the planning process, just to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe.

When the plan was finally put into motion, his anxiety grew more. What if there was something that they miss? Something they didn’t account for? Phil had to remind Ranboo, multiple times, that you needed him. And he was here to save you. Ranboo couldn’t afford the time to hesitate, he had to take action. Plus if something went wrong, they always had Techno to fall back on. This got Ranboo back in the mindset, ready to save you again.

Something that was unavoidable was physical conflict. A fight started between the eggpire and the rescuers. It was rather rough and unfortunate that you got involved. You were fighting against them, rather fiercely as well. Leaving you mostly unharmed was nearly impossible when you were so determined to have their heads. But they managed. And they succeeded; they defeated/subdued the eggpire, you came out with only a few scratches and they got you away from the egg. All in a day’s work.

Once they got you “home” (specifically Phil’s house since it was far from the Egg and provided the most on-site protection), they started the recovery process. They had to restrain you to the bed, tying you up so no harm could come to you or them. Another unfortunate thing, but a necessity.

You were feral, thrashing around and snarling. Demanding that they release you. You had to get back to the Egg, the Egg needed you and you needed it. Though time passes with no change and you eventually tire, finally being subdued from exhaustion. Ranboo volunteers to keep an eye on you once you’re deemed “stable” (as in “not trying to actively leave”).

Phil is Reluctant to leave you in Ranboo’s care, but he was tired. The day had been long and rather draining. But Ranboo seemed so eager to help you, stay with you. So he, although reluctant to do so, leaves you in the care of Ranboo. They agreed to work in shifts before he left.

As he leaves, he gives you two a final look. Ranboo moves his chair closer to you, learning in and starts to talk to you. Honestly, Phil could care less about what conversation you two were having. He was only there to rescue you. There weren’t any ties between you two besides Ranboo, a common connection. All that mattered was you getting cured, out of the Egg’s clutches.

Tommy

This boy? When he’s told the Egg has you in its possession, he vehemently denies it. There’s absolutely no way it could’ve gotten you. I mean do they realize who they’re talking about? They’re talking about you- one of the strongest people on the smp!

Though a small part of him doubts that. Whispers that yes, you’re strong. But not strong enough to protect you from a danger like the Egg.

There’s absolutely no possibility that you were taken by the Egg. I mean come on, as mentioned above, you’re hella strong. You fought in so many wars and never fell for any of Dream’s lies. The last one is mostly why he believes the Egg doesn’t have you. If you can defy Dream’s manipulation, then the Egg should be no different. Right?

And so many people didn’t like him, so this had to be a joke. It was laughable, unbelievable. They thought they could get him so easily? Oh how wrong they were. Here, he can easily prove them wrong. Prove that it’s a prank. Mostly needs to prove it to himself though.

So when he walks around the smp, he keeps an eye out for you. He does it everywhere and eventually wanders to areas less frequented by him. That’s the level of “delusional” he’s at; you’re just hiding somewhere, far from him. This is a mean prank you’re pulling and very effective if the wanted product was a panicked Tommy.

Finally throws in the towel when he can’t find you anywhere after a week. He asked everyone on the smp for your location and got one of two answers; they either haven’t seen you or they saw you in the Badlands, near the Egg’s domain.

Now he wasn’t scared to go into the Badlands to look for you. Oh absolutely not! He was, in fact, absolutely terrified of the Egg. His reasoning for not going there boiled down to “the Egg doesn’t like him and wants him dead” and “there’s no way the egg got them”.

Enough time passes and he finally starts to accept the idea that the Egg may actually have you. When the thought pops up to look for you in the Badlands, he doesn’t question or fight it like before. Now accepting it with open arms, he heads to the Badlands. His worst fear will be laid to rest. You won’t be there.

Oh how wrong he was. When he gets closer to the Egg’s lair, he finally catches sight of you. It’d been weeks since he last saw you, and was ecstatic when he found you. A closer, more in depth look decimated any joy he had.

You were definitely a part of the eggpire with the signature red iris that obscured your natural eye color from the light. And it was also obvious that it was working you to death. Your body looked so much weaker than it ever had, besides grave injuries. Absolutely drained of all, fucking demented, lifeless were just a few things to describe your current state. It was so hard to look at. He knew he had to save you because the Egg was slowly killing you.

He executed the best plan he could conjure up in that little pea-brain of his; he’d “kidnap” you. A very simple plan, in all actuality. When the other eggpire members were away from you, he’d lure you away with just his presence. The Egg absolutely despised him, he was well aware of that. That’s why you were most likely chasing him, but he liked to believe you were coming with him willingly. Breaking from the Egg’s control.

Okay so he hadn’t planned on where he’d take you- BUT he did know you had to be taken far, far away. Far from the smp and especially the Egg. He’ll stop when he believes you’re too far from the Egg’s influence. A place you can finally rest and break free from the Egg. After that? Well it was obvious; he’d do everything in his fucking power to ensure that the Egg could never get ahold of, control or bother you again.

Tying you to the bedpost should be sufficient for now, right? Oh don’t worry about the long chain on it. It’s long enough for you to get into the bathroom and get business done. He’s a really considerate guy, huh? It’s only there to prevent you from running back to the Egg, he swears.

And look! You’re slowly becoming yourself again. It’s happening slowly, but Tommy can see the progress that’s already being made. And that makes him overjoyed.

Tubbo

The news of your disappearance couldn’t have come at a worse time. He had been told about one of the nukes being stolen and then the news that you were kidnapped right under his nose? Absolutely worse. All he felt was absolute rage and despair. First the nuke and now you? How could this get worse!

Finding out how you were taken can, apparently. Jack recounted how he last saw you with Bad. But it wasn’t like “oh they’re just chillin like homies”. No, it was about how Bad was carrying you to… somewhere. It was unclear where they went. Rather unfortunate how Jack had to deliver the news of two horrendous incidents at the same time.

Tubbo wanted to scold Jack for not stopping Bad, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. Well it was but wasn’t all at the same time. Telling Jack how he fucked up severely wouldn’t help the situation, and neither would yelling or any other destructive form of anger. Keeping his cool was his best option to solve the current crises.

He gets to work on solving both issues asap. Jack volunteers to find the missing nuke which left Tubbo to find you. Jack taking up the nuke issue was a blessing; he’d rather have Jack find the nuke than risk your safety.

Now since he’s left to look for you, he needs a plan to locate you. His best option? Getting help from the other residents, of course! They were more than happy to assist Tubbo. All of them get told the same story; the recount that Jack told Tubbo of the last appearance you made.

It isn’t long into the search before results were made. Puffy came back with your location. Your situation was less than favorable. Adding you being in the Badlands and so close to where the Egg laid, it was all clear. It appeared that you were under the Egg’s thumb. After all, if a friend calls out to you, a normal person wouldn’t just ignore them. And Puffy said she wasn’t too far away from you when she yelled for you. So something was obviously wrong.

Tubbo decides to give the Badlands a little visit. To give his own input on the situation, if you’d call it that. In all honesty, it was just to see you and see if the tales were true. Sadly, they were.

The next best thing would be to plan an escape for you. So the first attempt is him just trying to get you to leave on your own accord. And that plan was unsuccessful, which was less than surprising. Then he tries to physically drag you back. A hilarious sight, but another plan that was doomed to fail from the beginning. As a last resort, for that visit, he pulls out the puppy dog eyes and alligator tears. You were unfazed by his tactics. There go his immediate plans of freeing you.

Eventually you tire of his behavior and chase him away. You spare him some last words before you part ways though. “I don’t need to leave the Egg. I’m perfectly fine, so just leave me alone”.

That really made him upset, but he wasn’t going to give up on you just like that. No, you were his best friend. Best friends don’t give up on each other so easily. They stick with each other and get the other out of a nasty situation. And this was one nasty situation you got pulled into.

When he gets back, he relays all of the discoveries to the others. It was undeniable, unanimous; you had to be rescued. As they all talked it over, a smile grew on Tubbo’s face. Tubbo’s change in mood was dismissed easily; he was just excited to get his friend back. They weren’t half wrong with that.

Tubbo was more happy that it’d be easier to contain you. He could easily get you where he wanted you and keep you there under the pretense of “keeping you there for your safety”. And all he’d have to do is volunteer to care for you…

Purpled

Surprisingly, he meets you through the Egg. Well, properly meet you. Originally, he joined for the money. Some of the eggpire members were rather wealthy and paid handsomely for his services.

So to elaborate on how he “knew” you. He first found you when you first appeared on the smp. Being toured around by Dream. So logically he goes up to greet the new member. You want to make good impressions on people as soon as you can.

You two only exchange names before Dream starts to shoo Purpled off. Dream gives the excuse that you were his friend. Not Purpled’s. His. He didn’t know you well and this was his server, so he’d obviously give the best tour of it. Plus you two were also catching up on things you two had done.

Dream’s behavior peeved you. He was being rather rude to this stranger and rather irresponsible. If he was trying to seem good, he was doing a poor job of conveying that.

You argued with Dream to allow this other person to come along with y’all. The argument doesn’t last long before Dream finally shoots it down and pulls you away for the rest of the tour.

Purpled was awed, felt so loved. You argued back at Dream of all people, and just for him. To defend him and let you come along with him. God you must be an angel in disguise, a true treasure. People as gracious as you are hard to come by nowadays.

After that, he does his best to become your friend. He does all the research on you that he can and watches your behaviors. Noting what you like and what you do throughout the day. Just the normal stuff, ya’know.

Without you knowing it, you had become such a precious thing to him. You’d become his best friend. Yes you two didn’t talk often at all, but you two were still friends. After all, he knew everything about you. Your favorite color, your favorite place to hang out, which genre of books you like, what muffin you get at Niki’s bakery, how you like your tea and coffee. Just the normal stuff a best friend would need to know.

Also collected things of yours. Things you came in contact with. If you left them, that meant you didn’t want them. And if you didn’t want them anymore, then they were free for the taking. This was all obvious stuff.

Another surprising thing; he became too busy with the egg to even notice your disappearance. With how much he was around you, he would’ve noticed you go missing within seconds. Yet he wasn’t around to keep you safe, now was he? No he wasn’t. He was away collecting some of the dumbest things for the egg.

He was rather annoyed when he was told of the soon-to-be new member of the eggpire. Great, another egg freak he’d have to deal with. Right now, he could really use a pick-me-up. Visiting you wouldn’t hurt- apparently it can because he was almost immediately put to work after being told the news.

After prepping for the initiation process, he was more than peeved. It’d been weeks since he last saw you. It was some of the worst weeks of his life. All he needed right now was you- oh boy.

Well he wishes were granted because there you were, being inducted into the egg cult. Man he should’ve been a bit more careful on what he wished for, but whatever. You were here now. Once it’s all over, he goes to properly greet you as an eggpire member and tours you around. So since you like the egg and he likes the egg, you wanna keep talking?

Will do everything in his power to keep you under the Egg’s control. If anybody comes in hopes of rescuing you, they’d have to deal with Purpled first. They’d usually never get past him, defeated by his hand and sent away.

It was in “your” best interest to stay with the egg. Really it was his, but you believed it too.

Those egg-cult freaks kept preaching about how the Egg would give people anything they asked or craved. Now that you were here, Purpled supposed it was true. After all, you were what he wanted after all. He is best friend by his side forever. What else could he ask for?

[wicked-mind]

The Angel and Devil on your Shoulder

Summary: One day you wake up with an angel and devil on your shoulder. And for some reason, they like to air all your feelings out to the one person you’re trying not to like. Bucky.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: (+18 only. This contains sexual themes. Minors DNI and exit now.) Sexual themes. Pining. Implied sex. Swearing. I think that's it.

All Writings Masterlist

Note: This is a little different and out there but it was so much fun to write. Lucy is basically just all my dirty thoughts lol (: not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

Any and all likes, comments, and/or reblogs are deeply appreciated (: I love that shit.

Bold for Lucy (Represents Lucifer)

Italics for Mickey (Represents Michael)

*Gifs not mine

You weren’t sure exactly when it happened. It surprised you as much as anybody. You just woke up one day to see two pocket sized creatures staring back at you on the pillow. You shrieked and threw yourself from the bed, grabbing the nearest gun you had hidden in your room and pointed at them, “What in the fuck are you?” You stammered out, breathing hard. One was what looked like a small woman dressed in a devil costume, tail and pitchfork included. The other was a small woman dressed in white with a small halo around her head. They honestly looked like cartoon characters of the sort.

“We didn’t mean to scare you.” The one in white said with a small smile, suddenly floating up in the air to float in front of you.

“Yes we did.” The devil looking one said, folding her arms with a wicked smile on her lips as she stayed laying on your pillow.

“Shut up, Lucy!”

“Make me, Mickey.”

You lowered the gun a little, wide eyes flickering between the two, “What the hell is going on?” You breathed out, wondering if you’d lost your mind.

“My apologies. I’m Mickey.” She said with a small curtsy and a smile, “That’s my sister, Lucy. We are your deities.”

“My what?” You ask confused, your brain trying to catch up with the fact that there were two tiny fairy-like people just floating in your room.

“Deities. You know, divine status.” The one named Lucy suddenly floated over and perched itself on your shoulder, “Usually humans don’t get any deities. We are pretty much reserved for gods and such.”

You looked at the small person on your shoulder before reaching a hand and flicking her off, sending her flying before she stopped midair floating and huffed at you, “Then why are you here?”

“We don’t know. We’re just your deities.”

“Well can you not be my deities?” You ask, looking back to the angelic one, “I’m not a god or a divine person so you two can just go back where you came from.”

“No can do, boss lady. You’re stuck with us.”

That is how you were introduced to your two deities. Lucy, the devil on your shoulder and Mickey, the angel on the other. You first had to make sure you weren’t going insane, calling Wanda incessantly until she came into your room with a concerned look on her face to see you pacing around. You had made Lucy and Mickey hide somewhere in the room before Wanda arrived. You paused when Wanda asked you what was wrong and looked at her, “Okay, first you can’t send me to the looney bin because I’m not crazy.” You pause, “Well maybe I am but I don’t want to go to the looney bin.”

Wanda tilts her head at you still with a confused look on her face, “No looney bin, gotcha.” She said slowly, “Now what’s going on?”

You let out a deep breathe before muttering a “come on out.” to the two deities in hiding. They slowly floated up from under the bed and floated towards Wanda who was staring at them with wide, yet confused eyes, “What are those things?”

“I don’t know, Wanda!” You say, “They just were staring at me when I woke up. They say they’re my deities.”

“I’m Mickey!” The one in white beamed, moving closer to Wanda and taking a seat on her right shoulder.

“And I’m Lucy.” The red one huffed out, floating over to Wanda’s right shoulder and kicking Mickey off Wanda’s shoulder.

Wanda stood in silence for a moment just staring at the two deities before smiling slightly, “They’re so cute!” She said before looking back to you, “Can we keep them?”

You groaned. Of course Wanda thought this was cute and not at all weird, “As much as I want to say no, I don’t have a choice. They say they’re stuck with me.” You inform, watching them float back over to you and sit themselves on either of your shoulders.

You figured out that Mickey was the parts of you that wanted to do good, be good. The part that cared and gave helpful advice while Lucy was the complete opposite. She harbored all your temptations and dirty, dark thoughts. The rest of the team figured out your secret eventually. Steve and Sam found you talking to yourself on the couch before seeing them sitting beside you asking all the questions about TV. They thought it was funny and Sam had many jokes about the angel and devil on your shoulders.The worst one was Bucky when he found out. He was a player, always having different girls up in his room almost every day of the week as well as make flirty remarks to you anytime he was in the room and that was before you had the deities. He loved the little devil on your shoulder. It got all worked up when Bucky walked in a room trying to make suggestions towards you about running your fingers through his hair or jumping his bones until your face was hot and you stormed out of the room. Luckily, you eventually figured out that you could give them orders. You once told them to leave you alone and they disappeared into thin air giving you about three hours of peace before they returned.

Now the whole team was out on a mission. Leaving you around with the person you didn’t want to be left alone with. Bucky. You were trying your best to stay away from him, especially when your deities were around. He got you so worked up which only made Lucy get worked up as well. As much as you were trying to stay away from him, there were moments where he managed to track you down. Like this morning when you were walking out of your room to head down to the training room. Bucky was walking down the hall with nothing but a towel on which made you freeze in your tracks as Lucy started fanning herself on your shoulder in a swoon, “Why are you walking on my floor with nothing but a towel on? Your room is upstairs and has it’s own shower, Barnes.” You scowled, folding your arms.

“Ah, c’mon, Y/N! Maybe if you’re nice he’ll accidentally let the towel slip.” Lucy’s words earned a smack from Mickey before she returned her arms crossed as well, mimicking your scowl.

Bucky put that signature panty-dropping grin on and came closer to you, staring down into your eyes as he towered above you, “You know, sweetheart,” He began, making Lucy giggle on your shoulder, “Maybe you should listen to your devil sometime. She’s got all the good ideas.” He finished before walking around you and to the elevator, disappearing through the doors.

“You should’ve kicked him in the shin.”

You and Mickey both look over at Lucy as she floated off your shoulder and in front of you, “What?” You ask.

“He could’ve dropped his towel if you kicked him in the shin. Then we could see the rest of him.”

You scowled at Lucy, “Shut up.” You told her before continuing on your way to the training room. You started with some weight lifting before moving onto punching the bag while Lucy and Mickey sat behind you on the ropes of the boxing ring bickering as they usually did. They both fell oddly silent and when you turned around to check on them, there was Bucky again towering over you inches away, making you jump, “Holy shit!” You gasped out, “You need a fucking bell, Barnes.” You hissed out at him for scaring you.

Bucky clicks his tongue at you, taking a step forward until you backed up against the boxing bag, a smirk growing on his lips as he had you cornered in, “Now, now Y/N. I’m not sure how your angel would feel about that kind of language.”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Mhmm…”

You leaned over to look around him, glaring at your deities before straightening back up and looking back up at him, “What do you want? I thought you were done with training this morning.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at you, “Keeping track of my schedule, doll?” He asks, reaching out a hand to brush a strand of hair that was stuck to your lip away and tucks it behind your ear.

You scowled at him, crossing your arms across your chest, “As if. Did you forget about the towel thing already?” You sneer out. You couldn’t deny it though, his light touch to your cheek made you blush and a shiver run up your spine. Bucky was hot but to you he was also a walking cesspool from all the women he had flaunting over him. At first you had the biggest crush on him but that quickly turned to slight disgust mixed with your crush. But when he was standing over you like this, lightly sweeping away a strand of hair, your knees felt weak and your breath hitches in your throat.

“Oh I couldn’t forget the face you made when you saw me nearly naked. It was the most beautiful look I’ve ever seen.” Bucky grins down at you, taking another step closer so your bodies were almost touching and he reaches up his arms over your head to rest his hands on top of hanging punching bag, practically cornering you in, “Came to see if you needed any help.”

You stare up into those stupid, pretty blue eyes of his, biting your bottom lip at how close he is. You eventually advert your gaze from his eyes and look around him, anywhere but that hypnotizing stare, “No thanks. I’m just about done.”

“Oh booooo! You two should wrestle. That’d be hot.”

“Lucy!” Mickey began then paused, “Yeah you have a point.”

“So you’re on my side now about tall, dark, and handsome?”

“He may talk like a devil but he looks like an angel.”

Bucky grins, his eyes never leaving yours as he listened to your deities’s conversation, “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your little deities think I’m the best of both worlds.” He leans his face down, closer to yours. He was so close that he could capture your lips in a moment if he wanted to and you wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop him, “You just gotta give me a chance.”

You stared back into his eyes before moving your gaze down to his lips, watching his tongue flicker out and sweep across the bottom one lightly which cause you to let out a jagged breath. You quickly remembered who Bucky was and ducked down under his arms and away from him, “No thanks, Barnes. I’m not going to be just another girl that sneaks out of your room when you’re done.” You say, going over to the bench and picking up your water bottle and making your way out of the training area.

“Who said you’d be just another girl?” Bucky tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants as he watches you go, waving to your deities as they passed him to follow you out, “And who said anything about sneaking out, darlin’? I’d let you stay all night and every night after!” He called out before you slammed the door behind you. What he said was true though, Bucky would give up all the one night stands and flirting with other women if you would just give him a chance. He honestly liked you, almost to the point where the crush had grown into being in love with you. And now that you had a little devil on your shoulder that spoke all your dirty thoughts, he knew you felt some sort of the same way. He hadn’t brought another woman home since Lucy started making remarks and he noticed you would blush and quickly exit a room. He never thought he had a chance with you, thought you disliked him. But now he had a chance.

You made your way to your bedroom, shutting the door behind you and let out a deep breath before touching your cheek where Bucky had swiped some of your hair away. It was like you could still feel his touch and it sent another shiver down your spine.

“Is she okay?” Mickey asks, tilting her head at you as she and Lucy sat on your pillow.

“I think she’s getting all warm and fuzzy.” Lucy snickered.

“Warm and Fuzzy?…. Oh!”

“Shut up.” You groan, tossing your water bottle on the bed before making your way to your bathroom and shutting the door behind you to have some alone time from your deities. You pulled off your sweaty clothes from your body before turning on the shower and stepping into the warm water. You closed your eyes and tilted your head back into the warmth, your mind immediately floating to how good you felt with Bucky so close to you. The way his words rolled off his tongue like velvet. And oh god, the way his tongue danced across his bottom lip as he stared right into your eyes. You quickly shook the thoughts from your head and scrubbed yourself clean of sweat and his touch before turning off the shower and pulling a towel around your body. You brushed out your hair in the bathroom before walking out into your bedroom, freezing when you saw Bucky sprawled across your bed talking to your deities. You gripped the towel tighter around you, your eyes wide, “What are you doing?!”

Bucky looked over to you, tilting his head as he ran his eyes up and down your body that was only covered by a towel, “You saw me in only a towel, figured it’s only fair if I saw you.” He teased, placing his arms behind the back of his head on your pillow with a grin set on his lips, “Better than I could’ve imagined, sweetheart.”

You frown a little at him, picking up a book from your desk and throwing it at him which he caught with ease. Damn super soldier reflexes. You watched Mickey and Lucy slowly float from over on the bed by Bucky to sit on your shoulders, “Well can you please go so I can get dressed?”

Bucky set the book down on your bedside table before sitting up on your bed, keeping eye contact with you with every movement he made, “I’ll go on one condition.” He smirked over at you, licking his lips again.

“I hope that one condition is to join him in the bed. Yum.”

You tilted your head to glare at Lucy who quickly made a motion to zip her lips shut before returning your gaze back to Bucky who was standing from your bed and making his way over to you. You back up until your thighs hit the edge of your desk and he’s towering over you once again, “What do you want?”

“Oh he’s close-close.”

Bucky kept walking towards you until he was almost flush against your body but left a little space between. His blue eyes pierced down into yours, the smirk never wavering from his lips, “Have dinner with me tonight, doll.” He says, reaching up a hand to brush his vibranium knuckles across your cheek, making goosebumps crawl up your skin and your knees almost buckle, “Just you and me.”

“She’s getting warm and fuzzy again.”

“Warm and fuzzy over dinner?”

“She’s probably thinking about dessert.”

You shut your eyes tightly at the words of your deities, why did they have to always speak up on what you were feeling at the most inopportune times. You opened your eyes again when you heard Bucky chuckle at their words, meeting his gaze that had been unmoving from your face, “Fine. Dinner. Just dinner.” You mumble out to him, “Now can you please go so I can get dressed?”

Bucky beams at your response, “A deals a deal.” He replied, but didn’t move away from you. He tilts his head as he gave you another look over, biting his bottom lip and scrunching his nose slightly at the sight before meeting your gaze again, “I’ll be cooking. Meet me in the kitchen at six.” He said before learning in and leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek before turning and leaving your room, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he left your room, you walked on shaky legs over to your bed and sat on the edge with a groan. Bucky doesn’t do dinner, let alone cook dinner for the women he brings back. He’s usually on one mission when it came to women and that was to get them in and out of his room as quick as possible.

“Is she okay?”

“Shit, I’m not. Did you see him bite his lip? I almost fainted.”

“Yeah that even had me swooning a little bit.”

“I’m surprised her underwear just didn’t fall off right on the spot.”

“She isn’t wearing underwear.”

“Good point.”

“Okay! Time out!” You yell at them, glaring as your eyes flickered between the two deities. They both looked at you before disappearing into thin air, giving you some peace and quiet to process the deal you just made with Bucky. You took a deep breath, “It’s just dinner.” You tell yourself, throwing your towel into the hamper and changing into some jean shorts and your AC/DC tank. You decided it would be best to just avoid Bucky the rest of the day until dinner then you could go back to avoiding him. You tried to read to waste the time but your mind couldn’t stop drifting to the way Bucky kissed your cheek. It was soft, gentle and hesitant as if he was trying to be some sort of gentleman.

“You’ve read the same page six times.”

“I know.” You mutter out. Your deities had returned after an hour of peace and silence, but luckily they were behaving for the most part. You had another hour before you were supposed to meet Bucky in the kitchen.

“She’s thinking about Bucky.”

“Ooohhhh…. Good thinking?”

“Sexy thinking?”

“Is there a difference?”

You groaned and brought the book up to your face, hiding in the pages, “I don’t know what he’s doing. I feel like the mouse in a game of cat and mouse.”

“I’ll be his mouse any day.”

“Well, maybe he actually likes you?”

“I don’t know if he’s capable of liking anybody in that way.”

“He hasn’t brought anybody back to his bedroom since we showed up and I started airing out your dirty laundry.”

You look over at Lucy, “How do you know that?”

“He’s nice to look at. Sometimes I go stare at him.”

“He invited you to dinner. He hasn’t done that with anybody else before.”

“And he’s cooking. Hopefully naked cooking. Or nothing but an apron on, that’ll work.”

“Yeah, I know. Bucky doesn’t do dinner for his flings, let alone cook for them.” You pause for a moment, “Oh my god, is this a date?”

“Seems like a date.”

“You should put on a skimpy dress.”

You frown at Lucy, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Nothing is wrong with what you’re wearing.” Mickey glared over at Lucy, “You wear whatever you’re comfortable in.”

“Thanks, Mickey.” You mumble out, putting the book down on your bedside table.

“I’m just trying to get you laid. Skimpy dresses work.”

You sigh, standing up and looking at yourself in the mirror, “Maybe I should put pants on instead of shorts so he isn’t eye fucking me.”

“Just more layers for him to strip off of you later.”

“I don’t think covering your legs will work. You were wearing leggings and a hoodie in the training room and he was still trying to undress you with his eyes.”

You bite onto your bottom lip as you look at yourself in the mirror. What was it about you that Bucky liked so much to where he was going to make you dinner? Ask you out on a date? Sure, he’s always made flirty comments with you but you thought that was the normal. He’s never made any towards Natasha which you thought was because she’d kill him in a moments notice but then he’s never flirted with Wanda either. You were the only one in the facility he bothered to flirt with and get all worked up. Maybe he did actually like you? And Lucy just confirmed it so now he was headstrong on asking you out?

Eventually the time came and you slowly walked out of your room and made your way to the kitchen, stopping when you see the table had been set with a nice white cloth, some candles, two wine glasses with a bottle of wine, and some bread.

“Definitely a date.” Mickey whispers in your ear.

Bucky turned from the stove to see you, a grin forming across his lips. He was wearing black jeans with a dark blue henley that seemed about two sizes too small on him, “Hey, sweetheart. Dinner’s just about ready.” He said, walking over to the table and pouring some wine into the glasses before walking over to you with one and stretching it out to you, “We are having steak, potatoes, and some salad. I hope that’s okay. You look beautiful by the way.”

You took the wine glass and nod, “That’s fine.” You say back to him before biting your lip. Beautiful in simple jean shorts and a band t-shirt? You couldn’t sense any lying in his voice and he was looking at you with soft, sincere eyes and a smile, “Thanks. You look good too.”

“Oh, steak. And wine. And candles. You know what they say about steak.”

“What?”

“When a guy buys a girl the most expensive thing on the menu, usually they expect at least a blowjob.”

“Oh. That makes no sense. Why does steak equal blowjob?”

“Oh my god.” You say, closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose with your free hand, “You two. Gone. Now.” You hiss out at your deities. Once it was silent for a moment, you opened your eyes to see they had disappeared and Bucky standing there with an amused grin on his lips.

“Just so you know, doll, I don’t expect anything.” Bucky said with a grin down at you, stepping closer and gently placing a hand on your hip, “Just wanted to treat you to a nice evening.”

You bit your lip again, the same shiver running up your back as he touched your hip and you wondered if you knew what he was doing to you. You watched him for a moment before speaking, “James, is this a date?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow at your question, “You don’t have to consider it one. But I sure do.” He told you, “I’ve always wanted to ask you out, Y/N.” He said with a sincere smile before turning away and going back to the table to grab the plates and head to the stove to dish everything up.

The whole time during dinner, Bucky was nothing but a gentleman to you. He didn’t make any snide, seductive remarks. Instead he spent his time telling you about himself, answering any question you asked honestly. He asked you questions about your hobbies, which he already knew mostly everything about. He asked what books you were currently reading. You had never seen this side of Bucky and for a moment you forgot everything about him being an annoying flirt. It wasn’t until dessert that he turned on flirt back on. Bucky pulled out a slice of chocolate cake he must’ve picked up from a bakery and sat beside you, cutting a pice off with his fork before holding the it in front of your face, “Open up, sweetheart.” He told you, that grin returning to his lips.

You give him a look but opened your mouth and took the bite of chocolate cake, smiling a little, “That is so good.” You say after swallowing the bite. You bit your lip for a moment before taking the fork from him, slicing off a piece and holding it in front of him like he did for you, “Open up.” You say with a teasing smile.

Bucky grins but parts his lip, his teeth scraping slightly against the fork as you pulled it from his lips. He chewed a little before swallowing the piece and leaning a little closer to you, “Mmm. That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” He purrs out to you.

You blush slightly at his velvety voice, “Yeah, it’s really sweet. Really good.” You reply slightly stumbling over your words, watching him lean in a little closer to you.

“I could think of something sweeter I’d like to try.” Bucky breathed out to you, his face inches from yours now. He took the fork from your hand and set it down on the table without breaking eye contact before lifting his hand to cup your cheek gently. He didn’t move closer to you though, instead scanning your face as if to ask for you permission.

You bit your bottom lip, able to smell the chocolate on his breath as well as the wine. You stared into his eyes, not moving away from his touch or away from him being so close to you. You swore you could hear your heart pounding in your ears, “Then try it.” You whisper out to him.

Within a second after your words, Bucky’s lips were on yours. It was gentle but bruising. His other hand quickly came to rest on your thigh, sneaking up until he reached your hip. He didn’t stop at one kiss, instead he kept laying sweet kisses on your lips, deepening each one until his tongue traced your bottom lip begging for entrance which you happily parted your lips for. He groaned when his tongue danced with yours, pulling you off your chair in one swift movement and onto his lap to have you straddle his waist.

You pulled away for air, not knowing when your fingers got tangled in his dark hair. You look down at him from where you sat on his lap, taking deep breathes as his eyes met yours. His hands were gripping onto your waist and he was licking his bottom lip as if to taste any remnants of your lips.

“Been thinkin’ about doin’ that forever, doll.” Bucky groaned up to you, “First time I saw you… I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about making you my girl.”

“Me too. That was hot.” Lucy said, sitting on the top of the counter with Mickey at her side.

You blushed and hid your face into Bucky’s shoulder at your deities’s words.

“Don’t stop on our account. We are just here for the show.”

“What show?”

“The show of them having hot sex on the table.”

“I don’t think we should watch that show.”

You lift your head to look over at your deities with a glare, “Go away. There will be no hot sex on the table.” You hissed out at them before watching them disappear again. You look back to Bucky who was staring up at you with an amused grin, “I meant that.”

“No sex on the table?” Bucky chuckles out, pulling your hips against his making a small gasp escape your lips, “That’s fine, darlin’. We can start in the bedroom and work our way out here.”

_____________________________________________________________

Permanent Taglist: @buckypops @bibliophilewednesday @stcrryslibrary @redhairedfeistynerd @princessnnylzays

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

gods and the mortals they worship

A/N: honestly this idea started out due to the fact that scott and jack are gonna be housemates, and a friend and i were like "haha what if c!scott moved into Innit Hotel with jack" which turned into "haha what if c!scott was the god of mcc but he just seemed like a Dude to everyone else" which made my brain go brrr and think "haha what if god!scott and goddess!kristin met for tea" and then this fic happened. it got much angstier than i intended it to whoops

Warnings: implied/referenced temporary character death, grief/mourning, hugs, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: Kristin, the goddess of death. Scott, the god of champions. Two deities that at first glance, have nothing to do with the other. But all the same, the two deities are close friends, meeting for tea and talking about the mortals they adore. However, some conversations painfully remind them of the mortality of their loved ones.

-

Kristin rather enjoyed it when a fellow deity joined her for tea. Not many would, XD was a little wary of her, being her opposite in a sense. And his sister Drista visited her often enough, but the young goddess was a bit on the rambunctious side, which was expected for the trickster. But the deity's whose visits pleased her the most were Scott's. The god of champions was always lovely to chat with, and she looked forward to each event he organized- always rooting for her husband's team, of course.

They met for tea weekly, but this visit... something seemed off about Scott. He seemed cheery enough, talking about how he had recently moved into the Innit Hotel with Jack and the other servers he was drifting between. But there was a melancholy expression on his face for a brief moment as he traced the flower pattern on his teacup, and a lost, faraway expression would come over his face from time to time. These were expressions Kristin recognized all too well- grief. She saw it in the faces of many mortals when she called their loved ones to her side- and it was unnerving to say the least to see such an expression on a god's face.

"Who are you mourning?" she asked, startling Scott slightly. The god's ever color-shifting eyes refused to meet her.

"The loss of my mcc team, of course," Scott countered with a half-hearted smirk. Kristin gave him an expression of disbelief, and the smirk melted away to something more downcast as he fiddled with something on a chain around his neck. A ring.

"Oh Scott," she said softly.

"Tried the married life thing. It was nice, for a bit. But it was a modified hardcore world, and it didn't end well. For him... or for me," Scott said, hand drifting to his throat with a grimace. Kristin set down her tea, placing a comforting hand on Scott's shoulder. Scott had a unique position as a god- he was one of the few who felt the sting of death. As he willingly lived among mortals most of the time, his godly power had to be diminished to do so. Which meant he could die- but it would never truly stick for him. Granted, death didn't really stick for most of the crowd he stuck around with. They would be reborn into other servers, maybe retaining impressions of the ones before- but Scott was the only one who truly remembered each server he had been on.

"I'm so sorry. Is he..." Kristin trailed off, unsure if she wanted to know if Scott's husband had been reborn into a different server.

"He's on another server with me now. Empires SMP. Calls himself the Codfather these days. I keep hoping he'll remember... but I don't know if I want him to," Scott said, eyes watery.

"Why not?" Kristin asked. If she was in a similar situation with Phil, she absolutely would want him to remember her.

"Because what kind of god can't even keep his husband alive?! I couldn't protect him before, who says I could do it now. Besides with my luck, by the time he'd remember me, I'd only lose him again. Why waste the effort on more heartbreak," Scott said, something vengeful in his tone. The aura around him tinged red, and Kristin drew her hand back with a jolt. Scott took notice of his surroundings, and with a sheepish smile his aura shifted to something more neutral and warm.

"That's why you're hiding in the Dream SMP with Jack, isn't it? You don't want to risk him remembering," Kristin asked softly. Scott let out a sigh.

"I'm not... hiding, exactly. Just lying low, somewhere where I don't have to pretend I'm not a god," Scott explained with a faraway glance.

“What if you were to tell this... Codfather," Kristin suggested. Scott wrinkled his nose in disgust in the name.

"Jimmy. His name is Jimmy," Scott corrected, sounding reverent as he murmured his name the second time. It was almost silly, a god worshipping the ground a mortal walked on- not that Kristin was one to talk. But then again, Phil wasn't exactly mortal.

"Then why don't you tell Jimmy the truth about who you are," Kristin prodded. Few knew the truth about Scott's godly status- Phil, most notably, and Wilbur. And now, she supposed, all who were on the Dream SMP. Otherwise, most knew Scott as someone who had a connection to the god of champions, and carried out his invitations to the games- not that Scott himself was the god in question.

"I... I don't know. Maybe it's safer for him if he never knows," Scott said with a sigh. Kristin squinted at him suspiciously.

"Scott, I've known you for centuries. Tell me the real reason you don't want to tell him," she said pointedly. Scott laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. With a deep breath, his expression settled into something more solemn.

"I don't want things to be different between us. I liked the way it was, on that modified hardcore world. We had a flower valley, with a pond and overgrowth and- and his silly insistence on wanting to protect me, like I was the fragile one, not him. I even experienced a brief afterlife with him, after we had lost all our lives on that world. And that... that was beautiful. But then things reset, and he was reincarnated. And how could I not follow him?" Scott said wistfully. His eyes shone with bittersweet tears, a fond smile on his face.

"You truly have the heart of a mortal, my friend," Kristin said with a soft smile. Scott chuckled, shaking his head.

"Well I certainly can't let anyone know that, think of my reputation," he joked. Kristin laughed.

"Oh please, we all know how much you cherish your champions," she teased.

"Don't tell a soul," Scott said in a mock-serious tone.

"Oh please, the only souls I know are dead ones," Kristin replied with a chuckle. Scott laughed too, but it fell short as his eyes landed on the flowers that decorated the teacups.

"I think the worst part is that he sees me as an enemy. I guess rightfully so, I pushed him away because I was afraid of letting him back in. I don't think I'll be able to look him in the eyes if we end up on the opposite sides of a battle," Scott said, voice fragile as the delicate teacups on the table before them.

"Maybe there's still time to make amends. You could extend some token of peace towards him?" Kristin suggested gently.

"Maybe. I just..." Scott trailed off.

"You just want to mope around in a world of constant hardship and destruction?" Kristin teased lightly, smirking. Scott laughed.

"I guess the Dream SMP isn't the greatest place to hide out," he said, still chuckling. Kristin was relieved to see her friend back to his more genuine smiley self, multicolored eyes glinting with amusement.

"Maybe not. Are Phil and Wilbur staying out of trouble?" Kristin asked, picking her tea back up to sip at. Scott laughed again.

"Staying out of trouble is asking a lot for your family. But I think Phil has forced Wilbur to make friends with Ranboo," he replied, picking up his tea as well.

"Oh? How did that go?" Kristin asked.

"Not sure, honestly. I think they opened a burger place? I've mostly been keeping to myself in the Innit Hotel," Scott said with a shrug.

"I'm sure Tommy loves that," Kristin said dryly.

"Oh yes, cussed me out until I threatened to not let him on mcc anymore. He changed his tune pretty quickly," Scott laughed.

"Doesn't Jack actually own the hotel now?" Kristin asked.

"Yes, but Tommy doesn't seem to know that," Scott answered with a sigh, shaking his head.

"I'm sure he'll get over it. Probably still a little jumbled from being brought back," Kristin muttered, unable to help looking miffed at that. She wasn't exactly fond of people being torn from her domain, especially by an overzealous mortal and the god who he eerily resembled. Although she couldn't exactly blame XD, the book had called him and he was forced to answer.

“Maybe life and death shouldn’t be toyed with anymore,” Scott said softly, after a few beats of silence. Kristin thought of Scott’s struggles with death and rebirth, then thought of her own family. Her husband who survived and lived, never dying- and her son, who fought and died, but ended up living.

“You wouldn’t see me complaining,” Kristin replied, voice coming out more melancholy than she meant it to. Scott looked to her with brows creased in sympathy.

“What a pair we make,” he said with a humorless laugh. Kristin laughed too, just as bleak as Scott’s own laugh.

“The goddess of death whose loved ones live, and the god of champions whose loved ones lose,” she said, voice forlorn. Scott set down his tea, dropping his gaze from Kristin’s.

“I do tend to be drawn towards the lost ones, don’t I?” he said with a weak smile.

“Nothing wrong with rooting for the underdog,” Kristin pointed out with a shrug. Scott looked at the flowers on the teacups, and his smile was a bit brighter this time around, less sad and bittersweet.

“I guess not. Maybe you’re right, maybe there is time to smooth things out with Jimmy,” Scott said, looking back up at Kristin.

“Good! Being mopey doesn’t suit you. And telling him the truth couldn’t hurt either,” Kristin insisted brightly. Scott rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

“Okay Mumza, no need to get on my case. I said I’d try and smooth things over, not reveal that I’m an all-powerful god that was married to him once because I like playing mortal,” he replied, dragging out her nickname with a teasing grin. Kristin grinned back.

“I guess your situation is a little different than when I told Phil I was a goddess,” she said semi-sheepishly.

“Phil was also hopelessly head-over-heels for you when you told him. Jimmy is decidedly not,” Scott pointed out with a laugh.

“Oh Jimmy will come around eventually. If he knows what’s good for him,” Kristin said, sipping at her tea. Scott blinked at her in confusion.

“Are you threatening my ex-husband?” he asked, tone so adorably baffled that Kristin couldn’t help but laugh.

“All I meant was that he doesn’t know what he’s missing. Any man would be lucky to have captured your attention," she clarified with a teasing grin. Scott flushed in embarrassment, the aura around him tinging pink.

“You’re acting like an embarrassing mum trying to convince her son to get out there and start dating,” Scott huffed, trying to play off his flusteredness.

“You’re the one who called me ‘Mumza,’” Kristin pointed out, still grinning.

“This is rude, I’m being attacked and you’re twisting my words against me now-” Scott cut off with a laugh, unable to keep up the mock-offended act as his aura shifted back to being a neutral warm color. Scott finally looked the most himself that he had been all day- aura full of warmth, a smile on his face, and color-shifting eyes sparkling.

“Oh, whatever will you do?” Kristin teased. Scott shook his head, picking up his tea and finishing it off with one last sip before standing from the table.

“I think I’m gonna leave, actually. It’s about time I head out anyway,” Scott said. Kristin looked at how low her own tea had gotten, and sighed before standing with a gentle smile.

“Well as always, it was wonderful to have you. I hope everything works out,” she said softly, holding out her arms. Scott hugged her without hesitation, and Kristin got the feeling he was silently thanking her for her advice through the hug.

“See you next week?” Scott asked after he pulled away.

“I look forward to it,” Kristin replied. Scott smiled, giving a two-fingered salute before disappearing in a burst of color. The lightshow faded, leaving Kristin in her rather gloomy domain. The loneliness after a fellow deity left was always the worst, and the heavy conversation from before didn’t help matters much. Scott and Kristin were very similar beings for two deities that ruled over extremely different things- both of their hearts were too big, too smitten with mortals. Scott could at least compete alongside mortals if he so chose, but Kristin was in a plane of existence that her loved ones could only reach through tragedy. Perhaps Scott had it worse- Kristin could at least distance herself from mortals, while Scott stubbornly refused to. But all the same, Kristin was hopeful that things would work out for the god of champions. And maybe, things would work out for her family as well.

-

MCYT Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[maggies-scribblings]

Yarning For Her

Adrien is smitten with the girl who's always been there, in the row behind him. But when his plans to ask Marinette out unravel, a secret throws him for a loop…

Written for the Miraculous Writer's Guild April Event 2021: Followers sent five emojis as prompts to the @mlwritersguild Tumblr for the writers to pick one to write for. I chose the emojis sent by @ladycat1: ✨ 😊 👀 👩🏻 🧵

Canon compliant up to Season 4, Episode 4: M. Pigeon 72.

👩🏻

It was finally happening. The event everyone was waiting for… well, everyone except the main protagonist of said event.

Marinette could feel it, though she could hardly believe it. She noticed Adrien looking at her with more intensity, when he thought she wasn’t looking. How he had trouble finding the right words when talking to her. All the tiny gestures of attention, like offering to help with a difficult subject or a complex art project, or praising her outfit every day, even if she’d worn it several times before.

Nino could tell, too: questions about Marinette and her favourite colour, food, flower, or whatever else were whispered in his right ear all day.

Actually, the whole class noticed Adrien’s marked change in behaviour. His cheerful hellos were now stuttered in Marinette’s general direction. His head hid on his shoulders whenever Marinette sighed or yawned, as if his neck couldn’t handle her fresh breaths. Even his athletic skills were now replaced with an unexplained jerkiness. The fact that the weather was warmer and the girls’ gym suits gave way to short shorts and strappy tops might have had something to do with it.

In short, Adrien fell in love with Marinette. Hard.

👀

When it started, Adrien couldn’t exactly tell. Ever since that first day of school, Marinette had held a special space in his heart (most of which had been stolen by Ladybug the previous day). She was one of his first and dearest friends.

But now… after getting to know Marinette, her loving and kind nature, after seeing her helping others without asking for anything back, after finally noticing how pretty she was… he wasn’t so sure.

That day at the pool was definitely a turning point.

First there was that unplanned double dive. During those milliseconds when they were falling, Adrien’s thought process went something like this:

Danger!—Why is Marinette here?—Protect!—Wow, she looks so cute in that swimsuit!

As they hit the water, their arms instinctively reached out to the other as they sank, swirling back up to the surface in a soft embrace — just like that night in New York, when they had danced floating in the air, under the full moon.

And when they were leaving the pool, Adrien was so happy and surprised to see she still had the umbrella he’d given her way back then! Sweet as always, she offered to give it back to him, even though it was raining and she had to walk home.

She was standing next to him (she linked her arm in his!) when that pesky umbrella decided to close on them, and they were pulled even closer for a few seconds. Very close. He could smell the chlorine in her hair mixed with the scent of sweets that always surrounded her. He thought he felt her heart beating faster and faster. Maybe it wasn’t. His heart certainly was. He could feel her warm breath through his shirt, and it drove him a little crazy.

When they said goodbye that day, he could hardly take his eyes off her. He even bumped his head on the car door frame. Ladies and gentlemen, here’s the charming, elegant model Adrien Agreste, unable to enter a car (come to think of it, he seemed to have a bit of a problem with doors whenever Marinette was around).

✨

The few weeks that went by did nothing to sort out Adrien’s feelings about the two black-haired girls in his life. His days were mortifying, his nights restless. On one such night, Adrien tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn’t come. The full moon and bright stars shining through the window frames painted his room with grid patterns, a constant reminder of his confined life.

Adding to that, his mind was racing with memories of his (now frequent) clumsiness and embarrassment at school. He recalled the fumble of the day: going into the classroom while trying to look cool, he managed to snag his bag strap on the door handle, causing him to jerk back and hit the ground on his butt in front of the whole class.

Adrien groaned and turned again. Worst thing was, he had no idea how she felt for him. She kept sending mixed signals. Her behaviour towards him wasn’t as weird as it had been, but that didn’t mean a lot. He’d even asked her a couple of times. He remembered the time they visited the wax museum, when she said she didn’t like him like that.

“What’s the matter, kid?” Plagg yawned from his side of the pillow, annoyed by his bearer’s restlessness. “Who is it this time? Spots or bakery girl?”

Adrien didn’t bite, going back into his musings instead.

His mind turned to Ladybug… These days, Spots occupied a much smaller part of his thoughts. He still got the occasional butterflies in his stomach when he saw her, or when she praised him and his humour. She would always be his first love, and not an easy girl to forget… but she was right, of course — she was always right — as long as they had enemies, they couldn’t reveal their identities, much less deepen their relationship. Back when Bunnyx first showed up, they found out that there would be a new Hawkmoth and countless akumas in the future, and who knew when that would end?

Plagg was still grumbling about sleep and cheese. Adrien playfully flicked his kwami’s ear.

“Shut up, Plagg! I’m trying to sleep!”

“Very unsuccessfully, I might say,” Plagg flew out of his reach. “You sighed four-hundred and fifty-eight times in the last hour.”

“Come on… can’t you see I’m in turmoil here?” Adrien turned his back to the kwami. It was no use arguing with a deity, no matter how minuscule.

“Four-hundred and fifty-ni—” Plagg’s teasing was interrupted by a pillow hitting him.

😊

This wouldn’t do. Adrien couldn’t stand his own indecisiveness any more. He decided to ask Marinette out, that very day. After a reviving shower, he got dressed and looked in the mirror. The dark circles around his eyes were evident, but he hated wearing concealer to school. He might as well add a couple of details to his usual get-up: a pair of Gabriel’s new collection sunglasses and his favourite blue scarf.

He arrived at school early, and while most of the class was either chatting in the courtyard or going into the classroom, Marinette was nowhere to be seen. Adrien went into the locker room, and lurked behind the last row of lockers while students got in, got their things and left.

Finally, the hurricane that was late-for-class-Marinette thundered in, scolding herself for oversleeping as she got her books for the morning. When she closed the door, there was Adrien, leaning against the cabinets with his best Chat Noir smirk as he looked over the rim of his sunglasses and greeted her.

“Good morn—”

He didn’t have time to finish his line, as a very startled Marinette squeaked and grabbed his free arm to spin him around and pin him to the lockers with an elbow to his throat.

It took a few moments for Adrien realise exactly what had happened, before she released her hold.

“I’m sorry, I… panicked,” Marinette said, as she stepped back and continued to gesticulate wildly and mumble more awkward apologies.

Still frozen in place, Adrien managed to adjusted his crooked sunglasses.

“Marin—” he had to clear his throat. “No, I— It’s o-ow!”

Adrien tried and failed to step forward, as he heard a ripping sound — his scarf was caught in Marinette’s locker, and the momentum slammed him back into the metal doors with a loud bang.

The proverbial stars that blurred his vision cleared up to show Marinette very close to him, fumbling with the lock to release the scarf.

“Sorry, so sorry, I’m such a klutz!”

“It’s okay, no harm do—”

Adrien stopped talking when he saw that the scarf had a large rip, disappointment obvious upon his face.

“Oh no!” Marinette covered her mouth as she saw the damage. “Your scarf! I ruined it!”

At this point, Adrien would usually smile and say something like ‘it’s okay’ or ‘no worries’, but he couldn’t lie: he really loved that scarf. It was his favourite colour, warm and cosy, yet light enough to wear on a spring day, and a rare thoughtful gift from his father. He pouted a little as his fingers traced the tear.

“I can fix it!”

He lifted his eyes to Marinette as she got on her tiptoes to unwind the scarf from his neck.

“I can make it look as good as new. I know you’re worried, after all it’s your dad’s birthday gift,” she rambled as she delicately folded it, “but I have leftover yarn— I mean, I think I have the same colour, and it’s a simple pattern.”

There was something odd about the way she worded that, but Adrien dismissed it. He must have made a weird face, because now she had a concerned expression.

“I mean, if you trust me with it… I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t after I destroyed it. ”

“No—I mean, don’t be silly, it was an accident… I shouldn’t have sneaked up on you like that!” He managed a relieved little smile. “Still, my father might be upset if he saw I ripped it. Are you sure you can fix it?”

Marinette’s eyes averted his for a moment, as she returned the folded up scarf.

“I’ll do my best! I’m not a pro like your father, but I’m sure I can make it as good as new in no time at all!”

They agreed to go to Marinette’s place after school so that she could start working on it right away, then ran off to class as the second bell rang.

Not exactly the way I planned it, Adrien thought as he scrambled onto his seat, but I guess it worked!

🧵

Adrien reclined in the chaise-longue and looked around Marinette’s bedroom. It was the total opposite of his, huge and aseptic and cold. On the contrary, these walls had warm colours and pictures everywhere, and it smelled amazing, fruity shampoo mixed with glue and ink from her many design projects, mixed with sweets from the bakery, and everything about it was so welcoming and cosy and so… Marinette.

“Yes!” Her delighted voice interrupted his reveries. “I knew I still had it!”

Adrien chuckled as he saw Marinette triumphantly holding a ball of light blue yarn, then get several needles from her yarn basket and sit at her sewing station to start working. He switched seats to her desk chair and rolled close to her.

“Can I help?”

“Sure! Let me just…”

Marinette picked up a long, thin knitting needle and started to thread it on the scarf, just above the tear. She was so concentrated and her movements so careful and precise, she might as well be defusing a bomb. Adrien noticed her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth and wondered what her kisses would taste like.

“There. I have the brakes on, now let’s get going.”

Marinette found the end stitch at the corner of the scarf and cut it. Giving Adrien the end of the yarn, she continued.

“Hold this. Make a ball while I unravel it.”

“Huh? Un-what?” Much as Adrien trusted her skills, he panicked. “Won’t you make it worse?”

“No, because I’m holding the knitting with this,” she pointed at the longer needle she had threaded through the scarf.

Marinette turned her chair, so they were sitting face to face, knees almost touching, and started to quickly unravel the bottom part of the scarf, while he rolled up the thread in a ball, both enjoying the comfortable silence. He noticed a small piece of fabric falling from one of the edges and bent down to pick it up.

“What’s this?” Adrien thought out loud while examining it.

As soon as Marinette lifted her eyes from her work and saw what he was holding, her eyes went wide and her cheeks red.

“Oh, it’s nothing—” she tried unsuccessfully to snatch the fabric from his hand. “Probably just the washing inst—”

It was not an ordinary washing instructions tag. It was tiny and had been woven into the knitting, so discreetly he’d never noticed it before. He turned the fabric over to see a recognisable signature.

Marinette

“Wait— you made this?” Adrien picked up the other end of the scarf from her lap and examined like he’d never seen it before. “Wha—? How? D-did my father buy it off your website?”

So that’s why she was so confident about fixing it. He searched Marinette’s face for an explanation, but she just shook her head and kept looking down, unravelling the loops one by one.

“No— of course not— your site wasn't set up back then, we only took those photos later…”

Adrien thought back to the time Nathalie handed him the present, neatly packed in a box with a ribbon. He’d never seen that kind of care in his father’s presents, just standard gift bags with expensive pens, straight from a corporate catalogue. His train of thought was broken by a couple of tears falling on his hands.

“Marinette…” he murmured, lifting her chin to look into her misty eyes. “Did you make this for me?”

She nodded with a tiny smile. He moved his hand from her chin to cup her cheek, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“Was this supposed to be your present for me?” Another nod. “How did this mess happen then?”

“I…” Marinette had to clear her throat and finally looked at him. Something in her eyes changed from avoidance to determination. “I wanted to give it to you personally, but I couldn’t gather the nerve… then one thing led to another, and I left it in your house, and I even signed it, but…” she shrugged.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I just… couldn’t. You were so happy with the present from your dad. I couldn’t ruin it for you.”

Adrien made a mental note to find out exactly what had happened, then set all his negative feelings aside. His heart was too full of love to think about anything other than the girl in front of him.

“Oh, Marinette…” he softly chided as he hugged her. How could this girl be so selfless, on top of everything else? She cared for him, really cared for him, even back then. “I wish you’d told me.”

He released the hug and pulled her closer, into his lap. Marinette set the scarf on the sewing table and put her arms around his neck. Her tears were gone and a hint of a smile played on her lips.

“That way,” Adrien caressed her nose with his, “I would have thanked you properly.”

“Oh yeah?” Marinette breathed, her lips very close to his. “You can thank me now.”

They closed the distance between them, their lips melding into a sweet kiss, then another, and then a few more. Adrien’s heart was beating so fast he could hardly bear it. Then he remembered he should probably breathe at some point.

“Wow.”

“Wow.”

“If that’s the way you thank a person for a present, I’ll start giving them more often,” Marinette joked.

“Not anyone.” He pecked her lips. “Only you.”

They kissed again, this time more passionately. He kissed her eyes, the tip of her nose, her forehead, her neck, then back up to her lips…

The scarf was left forgotten on the sewing table. It could wait a few more hours before repairing.

Fin

Thanks to @hari-writes and @deinde-prandium for the beta read! ❤️

Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated. English is not my first language and I tend to use UK English. If you catch any inconsistencies, please let me know.

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