#want that grumpy gnome so fucking bad.

[forcedhesitation]

tonight. I complete the balding gay boyfriend collection. I will right the wrong to which I was made to bear witness to. I've three of four men romanced already. all that remains is kissing that sad little wizard...and moonrise towers is just on the horizon.

[masterqwertster]

From the Situation prompt list, I'd love to see something using #8: "Who did this to you?" wherein one or more of the Hells is directing that to Ashton.

(It was so hard to choose just one, I got so many plot bunnies for the emotional support rock)

I realize this is the kind of prompt that leans into angst or hurt/comfort, but my brain refused to let Ashton play ball in that category, so have some humor instead. And you can send in more than one ask/prompt if you want to. I don't mind.

"What the fuck?!"

Imogen recognizes the voice as Ashton's, but it's several pitches higher than the genasi usually talks. When she turns around, she can see why:

Ashton has somehow been reduced to half their normal size.

Fearne looses a delighted gasp as they all take this new situation in.

"Oh my goodness, you're just too cute!" the faun exclaims. The light in her eyes and the way her fingers twitch have their suddenly miniaturized Ashton taking a wary half-step back.

As Orym and FCG herd the rest of Bells Hells out of the busy street for whatever conversation needs to be had, Laudna finds she can't really disagree with Fearne's assessment. Ashton is cute at this size. Being a few inches shorter than Orym just sort of does that, she supposes. There's just something about smallness that equates to a certain level of cuteness, even in grumpy rock people.

"How did this happen? Who did this to you?" Orym asks, all concerned business.

"How should I fucking know? We were walking down the street, then bam! I'm way too fucking short," Ashton rants, eyes uneasily shifting around as their fists clench and unclench.

"I dunno know, seems like a good height for you to me," Chetney taunts, comparing his own height to the shrunken genasi, grin widening as his hand hovers over their crystalline hair.

"Fuck off," Ashton growls. Which drops his voice into its normal range rather than the usual deep warning tone. "I can still easily break you in half."

"Yeah, righ- OW! Fuck!"

Chetney pulls back, nose bent and bleeding from the swift jab Ashton delivered. They raise a challenging eyebrow at the old gnome.

"Whatever. I let you hit me," the woodworker grumbles.

"Keep telling yourself that," Ashton retorts.

"Well, it looks kind of like when Prism made Orym big, except in reverse," FCG comments, finishing a circuit around Ashton for an assessing look.

"If it is the same spell, except smaller instead of bigger, it shouldn't last too long," Imogen tries to reassure Ashton.

"Fan-fucking-tastic. I'm still short right now," he grumpily says.

"That's not so bad. Lemme show you," Fearne says. Then, without so much as a 'by your leave,' she scoops Ashton up under the arms, grunting because somehow, even though he's smaller than Orym, Ashton is still heavier than the halfling.

"See? Isn't this nice?" Fearne hums, gently swaying back and forth as Ashton struggles in her grasp.

"...No," Ashton refutes as they resignedly flop over her forearms, legs dangling free.

Orym gives his shrunken companion a commiserating look.

"Just be careful, Fearnie. You don't want Ash falling back on you when the spell ends," he gently warns the druid.

Fearne hums in placid agreement, continuing her whimsical sway.

Soon enough, the spell fades. Despite the warning, Fearne still almost gets squashed beneath Ashton's restored bulk.

She sighs. "Well that was fun while it lasted."

"No it fucking wasn't."

[in-ky]

An Old Scent [1] - Negan x Reader (A/B/O AU)

Summary: During summer break, you decide to come back home to visit your dad, Rick. Over the course of your stay, you realize that your dad's friend is pretty hot.

Warnings: Eventual smut, A/B/O dynamics, cheating, age gap, Negan

A/N: yay first fic! this will have four parts! i hope everyone enjoys. this is an au where the apocalypse never happened. 3.2k words

I squinted as I stepped out into the bright Virginian sun. People swarmed all around me, creating the steady hum of airport ambience that I had grown accustomed to over the years. I had just gotten off a four-hour flight home from college and all I wanted to do was shower and curl up in bed. But I couldn't. Oh, no. First I had to endure a fun thirty-minute car ride with my best friend since second grade. I scanned the curb in front of me for her small black car and caught sight of a tall woman waving at me. I grinned and walked forward, tugging along my baggage behind me.

"Ugh, it's so good to see you, Bee." I sighed as I enveloped my friend into a large hug. She let out a laugh and swayed us gently.

"It's good to see you, too," She hummed, rustling my hair "I forgot how short you were." Bee was an alpha; tall, muscular, and very quick to remind me of our differences. Of course, it was in a 'joking with love' kind of way. I was an omega; small, rounded, and very quick to punch her gently in the abdomen.

"I forgot how much of a jerk you are." I quipped, huffing and wheeling my bag to her trunk.

"Oh, come on, babes, don't be like that," Bee laughed, opening the driver side door and waiting for me to walk back to my side. "Now get in, we've got a lot of catching up to do."

---

"How are your heats going?"

"Jesus, that's what you want to start with?" I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. Bee shrugged.

"We don't have to if you don't want to," She clarified, turning out onto the street "I'm just saying, I know they've gotten pretty bad as we've gotten older. Did you try out those tips I sent you?"

"Yea, I did," I said quietly, looking at the trees rushing by on the side of the highway "They worked for a while but..."

"But you need an alpha," Bee sighed, finishing the sentence for me.

"That's the plan for this summer," I agreed "Might finally settle down."

"You know, I'm always here if you need me." She said with a wink. I scoffed at her.

"I'm not that desperate," I laughed, shoving her lightly "Not yet, at least."

"Anyone take your interest back in Colorado?"

"Not really," I hummed, tilting my head in consideration. "There was this one guy. We dated for a few months but towards the end he became a total knot-head. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I thought it was cute at first, but after I started to miss a few classes...well, that shit got old pretty quickly." Bee made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh, men," She grunted, wrinkling her nose "I'm glad I never went through that phase. I'm perfectly happy with chicks, thank you very much. Much less of a pain in my ass."

"Oh, they're not so bad," I smirked "I think it's just alphas in general." She glared at me momentarily and I stuck my tongue out at her. We drove in a comfortable silence for a few moments, just enjoying each other's company. That was always something I loved about Bee. We never had to fill every second with chatter, we could just exist together in the same space and be just as content. She started to hum along to the song that buzzed softly from the radio and my eyes tracked a hawk. Soon enough, we reached our exit and Bee turned the car onto a smaller road, starting the countdown to my arrival home.

"Are you excited to see your dad?" Bee asked, killing the silence.

"Yea, I am," I smiled. We hadn't always had the best of relationships, but the distance that college gave had done wonders for us. A few texts and calls had worked perfectly for us. When he invited me to stay a few weeks during summer I gladly accepted. I wanted to see just how well our relationship had strengthened. Plus I knew he really needed someone.

"How's he doing?" There was genuine concern in Bee's voice. A few months ago, my mom had revealed that she had been having an affair with one of dad's work buddies. She left with him and took my brother down to Georgia.

"I think he's okay. But you know dad, he's not really an emotions guy. He was starting to get some closure but then the divorce papers came in the mail. That really hurt him," I told her, twisting a strand of my hair around my finger. "I just don't know how Lori could do that to him, you know? She won't even let Carl up to visit. The new baby's cute, though. Looks just like Shane." Bee hummed in acknowledgement.

"Well, tell him I said hi, alright?"

"Will do." A few more seconds of silence passed. Until we stopped at a light. Bee looked up and spotted a billboard that sported a very familiar, very handsome face.

"Holy shit!" Bee shrieked, slapping my arm.

"Ow, what the hell?" I hissed, grabbing my shoulder. She pointed frantically at the sign.

"That guy! Isn't that, shit- the hell's his name?" Pulling my eyes from my lap, I let them settle on the object of her excitement. All of the color drained from my face. It was an add for a law firm. There was an old geezer posing proudly on the left, and to his right, was the man who haunted my wet dreams for the majority of high school.

"Negan." I gulped.

"Yea, your dad's hot friend you never shut up about." Bee groaned, pressing on the gas and moving us away from the sign. Negan was a lawyer/make-shift-law-professor and baseball coach at the local community college. He had a sort-of contract with my dad's department. Many times I had come home after school to the two of them puzzling out a case on the kitchen table. Negan was an alpha of alphas, something that got my little omega heart (and other things) pumping until I couldn't breath. His humor and dominating persona made me blush a deep crimson color any time I saw him. Sometimes I would spend hours sitting on the stairs just listening to him talk to my dad. His voice was something else. I had gushed to Bee about him countless times during our times at high school. But I hadn't seen him since my graduation party.

"I wonder if you'll see him again," Bee teased, nudging me again to pull me out of my trance of memories. Then, she did a dramatic gasp. "What if he's your mate?" It was my turn to slap her in the shoulder.

"He's older than my dad!" I squealed, burying my now-blushing cheeks in my hands.

"You're an adult I don't think it matters."

"I think he's engaged."

"Just 'cause there's a goalie doesn't mean you can't scoooore." Bee pulled a face at me and I returned her grimace.

"Whatever, you're lucky we're almost at my house." I huffed, falling back into my seat with my arms crossed over my chest.

"Oh, yea, omega? What are you gonna do?" I rolled my eyes as she laughed off my grumpiness. We rolled to a stop in front of my driveway and a leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks so much, Bee, I really appreciate you," I grinned, popping open the door.

"No problem, babes," She winked, unlocking the trunk "But I swear to the gods, you better fucking call me and give me updates on everything, especially if you run into Mr. Hotcakes." I rolled my eyes once more and promised her I would before closing the door. I retrieved my bag and gave her a wave as she drove down the street. When she was out of view, I took a deep breath and turned around, walking up the driveway to the front door.

I knocked heavily on the dark oak door. While I waited for someone to answer, I decided to look around at the home I had left behind about a year ago. My childhood home had changed now and then over the years, but there were still some iconic pieces of memories in the front yard that could never be forgotten. My personal favorite was Eddie the garden gnome. He was a standard gnome: small and stout with a large white beard that led into a pointy red hat. His eyes were shut and his mouth was curved into a smile. However, he was missing a nose. I grinned as I recalled the unfortunate mishap that caused Eddie to become deformed. I was about twelve, and carl was five. He had gotten a kid's baseball from Negan for his birthday and had begged me to teach him how to play, since I was on the local softball team at the time. I relented and set it up in the front yard. Eddie was our outfielder. Eddie didn't have a mitt. Well, he did, but it was his face. Carl absolutely smashed the first pitch I tossed at him and hit poor Eddie right in the face, shattering his round, pink nose into pieces. Carl bursted into tears and I had to promise him that he did not in fact kill our precious protector of our house. Lori ran out frantically and comforted her son before giving me a thorough chewing out for damaging Eddie. We never used the set again. That she knew of, anyways. Negan always let us play in his yard, though. I smiled at the memory, but the clicking of the lock to the door pulled me from my train of thought. The door swung open and I was met with the smiling face of my father.

"Sweetie, I'm so glad you made it!" He laughed, pulling me in swiftly and squeezing me tight.

"It's good to see you too, dad." I croaked, letting out a small chuckle. I tapped on his shoulder as a signal for him to let go.

"How was the flight?" He asked as he stepped out to grab my bag. I told him it was good but that the screaming kids had given me a bit of a headache. He gave a small laugh and gestured for me to enter. I thanked him and he rolled my bag in behind me. We exchanged a few words but as soon as I walked through the kitchen into the doorway of the living room I was hit by a wall. Not literally, no, but rather a wall of overwhelming scent. It was a delicious swirl of campfire and whiskey, with a hint of cigarettes and leather. I paused for a moment, my eyes forced closed and my lungs taking a deep breath of the intoxicating air. Colors danced across my eyelids. My whole body was flooded with warmth and my toes tingled. I felt safe and calm, and there was something else; something deep within my stomach that I couldn't quite identify, something I never felt before. My eyes snapped open when I felt my father's hand rest firmly on my shoulder.

"I hope you don't mind, sweetie, but I invited company over while I was waiting for you to arrive," He smiled at me. I got a good look at him then. He looked the same, his hair was a bit longer, a bit greyer. But his eyes were different. They were darker, rounder, rawer. I gave a soft smile and told him it was fine. He guided me into the living room. It was then I realized where that deadly smell was coming from. Or, rather, who it was coming from. "Negan, you remember my girl." In that moment, I held my breath as I scanned Negan. He looked fucking amazing, just as he always had. Perfect dimples guarding a charming smile, all surrounded by a gorgeous salt and pepper beard. His hair was longer than it was when I had left, not slicked back, but it still framed his face perfectly. Negan's body was draped casually over the sectional couch, legs crossed at the ankle on the ottoman. His arms were on the top of the couch and his wrists were dangling. He knew he was hot. That bastard. I suddenly became aware of his eyes raking over my form and I shifted from one foot to the other.

"'course I do, Rick," Negan said, voice silky and deep. I couldn't help but let a small shudder run down my spine. All I wanted to do was kneel down in front of him and curl up at his feet. I forced my inner omega down, shaking the thought from my head. "How could I forget the little slugger?" I cringed inside at the nickname. Especially the use of the word 'little'. I begged that he didn't still see me as the kid down the street. Instead as a grown woman. A grown omega.

"Hi, Negan." I greeted with a small smile, swallowing to relieve my dry throat. Now that I was next to him, his scent was clogging all my senses. I gripped onto the couch and lowered myself onto the cushion, hoping to ground myself. It helped, just barely. My heart was pounding, my instincts telling me to submit to this man in front of me. Why, though? Why now? He had never smelled this good before. No alpha had. Was I getting close to my heat? I did have a stomach ache, but that could be from Negan alone.

"Hey, sweetheart. How's college goin'?" Negan asked, sipping on his drink. He kept eye contact with me the whole time. Rick handed me a glass of soda and I thanked him.

"It's good!" I said after taking a sip, thankful for the hydration in my coarse throat "Towards the end it got a little hectic, but I was able to stay on top of everything, thankfully."

"You're studying film, right?" He asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

"That's right," I grinned, crossing my legs to relieve some of the pressure the movement caused to build up in my lower abdomen "You still teaching law?" This caused him to chuckle. Literally music to my ear.

"If that's what you want to fuckin' call it." Negan sighed, falling back to his original position, hands resting in his lap "I talk, the kids kinda listen. I just do it for the coaching job, really. You remember how much I love that damn sport, right?"

"Baseball?" I asked, raising a brow "You mean the only thing you talked about at all of the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners you were invited to?"

"Touché." Negan grinned. Goddamn that smile. Butterflies erupted in my chest, beating hard against my ribcage, begging to throw myself at his chest and bury myself in him. Rick cleared his throat and smiled at me to get my attention.

"I want to know more about your college experience!" He beamed, rubbing a hand through his beard "Any special alphas you've got your eyes on?" I heard Negan choke slightly on his whiskey. A small bubble of pride rose in my chest. I laughed at his words.

"Dad, I don't think Negan wants to hear about my love life."

"Shit, doll, I don't mind," He grumbled "I don't get to hear any drama now-a-days"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, tilting my head "You argue for a living. Your job is to literally deal with drama."

"Yea, but that's complex drama," He growled, waving his hand dismissively "I wanna hear simple, schoolgirl 'he loves me, he loves me not' kind of bullshit."

"Well sorry to disappoint," I snorted, running a hand through my hair "but no, there's no one I have an eye on." Dad's smile turned into a frown.

"Shame." I heard Negan whisper. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to hear it. It was quiet, barely above his breath, and he said it while twirling his whiskey, following the words with a large gulp.

"You really should start looking, dear." Dad said with a sigh "You know it only gets harder as you get older."

"Dad please, I don't..." I cut him off "Listen, I appreciate you trying to understand this stuff, I really do, but I don't really want to talk about it with my father." He looked at me with an understanding smile.

"Sure," He nodded "But if you ever need anything, anything at all, you just let me know, alright." I nodded.

"Well, this sure has been fun, Ricky-boy," Negan grinned, getting to his feet and stretching his arms far above his head. "We do have that big court case in the mornin', though, and I need my shut-eye."

"Big case, eh?" I asked, rising from my seat as well. Dad nodded and excitement sparked in his eyes.

"You should come! It's an open court and I would love for you to see what I do. I know you always wanted to as a kid, but your mom made you wait until you were older. Well, now's the perfect time!" He rambled, grasping my shoulders.

"W-Well, I dunno, I don't want to be a distraction," I stumbled, taken aback by my father's display of enthusiasm. I turned to Negan, as if asking for permission. He just laughed.

"Oh-o, doll, I don't get distracted. Not in there, not anywhere. Don't you worry about a goddamn thing. You should come, Rick seems like he really wants you to."

"Okay, then," I grinned, nodding in commitment "I'll see you there in the morning then." I looked up to Negan and we locked eyes for a brief moment. But in that moment, something within me quivered. He brushed up against me and smirked down at me.

"See you tomorrow, sweetheart. It was nice to see you. You're lookin' great." It took all my willpower not to let out a whimper as he walked past me, taking his glorious scent with him.

My dad said that he should also get some rest, but that I could stay up as long as I wanted to. I was pretty wiped from my flight so I opted to follow him up the narrow staircase, tugging my bag behind me. I hugged him goodnight and stepped into my room. It hadn't been touched since I left last summer. The forest green bedspread was still perfectly tucked into the mattress and two plump pillows were perched at the head of the bed. My muscles ached for the soft release of sleep. I put my suitcase down by my dresser, taking a moment to smile at some old photos of me and Bee as kids. I showered and brushed my teeth before getting into the comfortable bed. I looked up at the ceiling and giggled softly at the glow-in-the-dark stars shining overhead. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I wasn't thinking of anything in particular, but for some reason, all of my dreams were plagued by the sweet smell, sound, sight, feeling, and taste of Negan.

[liptonsbabe]

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! Reader

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Summary: Molly knows about the reader’s relatives and she’s not so sure to put her trust in a girl that had just betrayed her own family

Word count: 1.9K

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Hi! i’m so happy that you guys liked this thing! thank you so much for your support and, again, if you want to keep reading this let me know. Same note as ever, english not my mother language, so tell me if something’s is wrong.

Chapter 2: Not your family

The next morning turned out to be quieter than you imagined.

You slowly got out of bed and looked at everything around you noticing how quaint Bill's old room was. The ceiling was lined with grainy wallpaper with stacks of photographs of Quidditch players hanging from the reeds that moved from side to side, simulating the playing field; the right side of the room had a huge hole behind the small stool that tried to hide it, and from that hole a small garden gnome was sleeping peacefully with a small piece of cloth on top of his head. You stood up, walking towards the huge window that gave you a beautiful view of the Weasley's garden that at that moment was covered by a thin layer of drizzle that had fallen during the night.

Molly's fruit trees gleamed under the faint rays of the sun and you saw how a doxy from between the leaves poisoned Mrs. Weasley's apples, causing them to fall from the tree branches in a thick black mass with a foul smell coming out of it. You shook your head, excited to witness a very different way to wake up.

Even though several minutes have passed since you woke up, the house continued to remain in a strange silence that made you think that the family had decided to leave the burrow with the intention of buying more supplies or something like that. You knew that Bill wasn’t at home precisely for his obligations within the Order, so you didn’t worry about looking for him around the room, so you decided that a better option was going down to the dining room and know what was happening.

As you went down the spiral staircase, you cursed in a whisper when you forgot to put on your slippers before leaving the bedroom cause the floor was so cold that you slipped a couple of times. Back in the days, when you were still welcome in your parents' house, you had many servants who did all the things for you - putting on your shoes as soon as you woke up was one of those things - but now that your life had changed so much, you assumed that you would have to adapt and start taking care of your own needs.

Your curious eyes roamed the walls covered in family photos that caused a big warmth in your chest. In each of those photographs, all of Molly's children appeared along with their father, smiling for the camera and sending effusive greetings. A pic was hanging at the fireplace were Molly and Arthur were carrying a small white bundle crying his lungs out. You assumed it was Bill as his parents seemed too young back then and even as a small baby, you could recognize those tantrum features anywhere.

A giggle escaped your lips when you noticed a funny sequence from that same photo in which, even with Bill crying in his mother's arms, his father tried to carry him for a moment to calm him down, however the baby's cries didn’t stop. The baby was so annoyed that he ended throwing up  the milk ration that he must have had before the photo session on his father's neat shirt.

You laughed because you knew that William's impertinence was something he had carried with him for several years now.

"Bill hates those photos." You jumped in your place scared to see Molly standing behind you. Your cheeks turned red “He says that it’s embarassing but i think that’s nonsense. He was an adorable baby”

"he was," you answered, looking anywhere but into Molly's shrewd eyes. "but I guess displaying them in the fireplace isn’t the right thing to do."

“Is it not?

"No, they should be at the front door where everyone can see them”

Molly giggled as you watched the sequence of photos over and over again. A silence settled between you, but surprisingly it was not an awkward silence, but one that was allowing you to create a bond that neither of you expected. Mrs. Weaslsey brought up a rag, wiping it around the corners of the photo from the dust.

"Arthur and I had to save up for months to take those pictures," she mentioned wistfully, "we just had Bill and it seemed like a good idea to welcome him into our family with a gesture like that. Arthur was new in the ministry and wasn't earning too much, but we had that quirk and decided we could afford to skip certain things to pay for the pictures. It cost us ten galleons and it still took us four months to gather them”

“Oh” You didn't know what to say, but you just kept looking at the photograph feeling a bit uncomfortable. You never had those problems at home because your family was insanelly rich thanks to the inheritance in life that your grandfather Tim had left to his son and later to his grandchildren. Even the descendants of your grandfather's servants came to work in your house, reason enough for you and your siblings to grow up with no sense of responsibility other than your own wishes. Molly sighed remembering those times when life seemed to be easier.

"So when Bill asked me to remove it from the fireplace, I refused. He doesn't know how hard it was to raise that money, but I think he has nothing to be ashamed of, he was too adorable!

"I don't doubt it for a second, Mrs. Weasley."

"You can call me Molly," she said, walking back to the kitchen where you continued watching the way the pans moved back and forth preparing breakfast. You were not very good at cooking - in fact, you had never cooked before- however, that didn’t stop you from offering your help. So you took a pan, placed it on the stove, and decided that you would find a way to make a good mountain of strawberry-filled pancakes just like your dear nanny did. Molly observed you carefully. "I think that now that you are living with us it is appropriate to have a more cordial treatment.My son told me a lot about you”

“Just the good things, i hope”

“Kind of” You stopped mixing ingredients to look at her carefully” He told us a bunch of marvelous things about you and how you two met. Actually, what worries me the most is what he didn’t tell us”

And there was the recrimination you were waiting for. You were aware that it had to arrive sooner or later, however, you would have been grateful that it did it when Bill were by your side to give you the opportunity to defend yourself properly. You cleared your throat uncomfortably, knowing that what Molly needed to hear from your own lips was which family you came from. You continued your task with the pancakes, turning out as bad as you expected.

"I'm sorry it turned out this way, Mrs. Weasley."

"Molly," he corrected.

"Molly" you smiled slowly "But believe me when I tell you that it was me who asked William not to mention anything about my last name or where I come from. I know that in this case, with the war above our heads, it is necessary to be certain of the people who enter your family and I apologize for that, it's just ... Bill is very important to me” Molly's eyes narrowed “Since we met ... I have found a home in him and well, all that feels when someone is in love. "Mrs. Weasley shook her head, understanding the feeling." I have experienced the rejection before. When people know that Tom Riddle is my family ... they run away in fear, curse my family and even walk away from us, as if sharing a blood bond makes us as evil as he is.

“And it’s not like that?” Molly asked with a hand on her neck. She didn’t want to be like the others and judge you without knowing the full story, just as she had promised Bill the night before that she would, but it was so difficult not to remember the death of his brothers by Voldemort’s hands and to pretend nothing had happened in the past. You sighed because the eggs you cracked on the bowl got mixed with their own shell “ I've heard of the Grants before, they're all Death Eaters, including your siblings!”

“It is difficult to have to choose a side  when you don’t have your own convictions”

"And you have it?"

You looked at Molly in pain. Of course you expected those reactions from Bill's mother, she was within her right to be upset that her oldest son never told her that he was in a relationship with a girl who seemed to have the most fucking powerful and evil wizard in the world as a great-uncle. No, Molly wasn't mad, she was deadly angry, she felt like she was bursting!

Her hands became fists and without knowing how, you found yourself between the wall and Molly's big arms from one second to the other. The pancake batter was forgotten, as was the woman's promise to treat her son's girlfriend in a good way.

"How is it possible ..." Molly questioned in an agitated voice, pressing your arms against the wall, "... that a single deer leaves the nature of its own herd?" How can you ensure that one rotten apple even in a gold container doesn’t rot the others?”Your breath caught at the questions of the woman in front of you. Once again, you were aware that your presence wouldn’t be good news to them, but at least you hoped they understood your motives before judging you “Explain to me, (Y/ N) Grant, when have you seen a pig away from his equals?”

Your words caught in your throat at Molly's fierce question. Bill had talked a lot about the temper of his mother. Even if she could be really grumpy at times, she was in general a very sweet, pleasant and maternal woman with everyone; however, you didn’t fit into that generality because it seemed that the woman was determined to kill you with her own hands.

"If my presence bothers you so much, then you shouldn't have let Bill and I to stay here."

“He's my son! All I want for him is to be happy, and that's why I don't understand what he managed to see in you”

"Maybe the same thing you saw in your husband." Molly's lips twitched in anger, but you didn't stop. You hoped that she would at least understand what your words meant, because that would make it easier for both of you to try at least get along better, even if Molly seemed not to want to do it under any circumstances. How is it that this haughty little girl dared to compare herself with her dear and wonderful husband? "I'm sorry, but I don't think this conversation is going to take us anywhere."

"If someone betrays his own family ..." Molly stopped you before you walked out the front door. The others got down the stairs, seeing the scandal formed in the kitchen “The rest of us can't expect too much, can we?

Your eyes blured.

[yandere-sins]

There is a serious lack of the yandere dragon shifter content! (Especially the bakugou dragon shifter if you can...) So is it possible to have a rich like this where the reader is a mage or magician in search of ingredients and meet a dragon who becomes infuriated with her (or them if you are more comfortable)

You shall get what you ask for, if you want she-pronouns so be it there’s no being more or less comfortable about pronouns. The only time I need some more directions is if you want a gender neutral darling do the dirty with the yan, then it helps to know what to expect down below, you get it? Otherwise, if you want to request a female darling then be proud and request that. Also I am mostly writing x reader anyway, and for that it doesn’t really matter most of the time. Enjoy your scenario!

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You were no newbie to the forest. Ever since you were a child, you wandered the dark greens with your grandfather, and later on, with your teacher. Over all these years, you had grown into a respectable mage yourself, people came to your door for help, and you could summon the darkest threats there were; make them follow your instructions! But going into the forest on your own was a necessity, despite always presenting you with something unexpected.

The reason you had to go into the forest was simple: Your potions needed ingredients. Sure, you could have just magically made them appear in your laboratory, however, many did not know that ingredients that were made by magic had almost none of their substances needed for spells. It was easier to explain with self-grown plants in a garden; the one from the convenient market were good to eat, but those you harvested and collected yourself would always be better.

So you set out on your own. You didn’t have an apprentice in a while after the last one had an unfortunate accident with snake poison. Thus, it was on you to make sure your shelves were filled with everything you needed to make your potions and provide people with. To be honest, you found it quite pleasant to get out of your dark, filled-to-the-brim with junk and necessities home, scouting the thicket and breathing in the refreshing forest air.

Carefully you decided where to set your foot. You still remembered the few instances you accidentally ran into a fairy or almost got drowned by a mermaid while picking algae from the lake. Those things happened, but they were no pleasant occurrences, and you preferred to not run into them. However, with a calm mind, you wandered around, picking what you needed. Never more than you actually needed, making sure the forest would be able to reproduce it on their own. That was a law for magicians like you, and you were more than happy to follow it.

“Let’s see,” you mumbled as you brought up your notebook where you had written down the things needed for a very potent sleeping potion for one of your customers. You were almost done gathering everything, aside from one more flower which petals had a sweet smell, soothing even raging minds. As such, it most commonly grew in places where wild beasts lived, but much to your relief, this forest had long been abandoned by those, only leaving the occasional fairy or gnome behind.

There was no way you’d have a run-in with something worse like a werewolf or a dragon.

At least, you were quite sure of it until you managed to reach the clearing where the flower grew. You were so sure of it, you ignored the roaring snoring filling the air as you drew closer to the flower’s whereabouts, merrily humming a little song and focusing on your steps. That was, until you reached out for the flower, finally knowing how the earth around it... breathed.

You just stood there, not moving a muscle. There was no immediate sight of anything, but you knew it. You knew that beneath your feet, a monster laid, as big as the clearing itself, as dangerous as snake poison. The only ones possible of laying down in a field of flowers, resting for so long that their magical energy would make the flowers start growing around and on them, were dragons. Despite really not wanting this thought to be right, you knew that there was nothing in comparison.

For a mage like you were, it wasn’t anything to take on easily. Dragons were wild, untamable, and, most of the time, grumpy. The age, you assumed. They tended to be very territorial and get butt-hurt over every little thing... like you, picking one of their flowers. The worst, however, was that even if you retreated now if you were to be noticed, the dragon surely would hunt after you, and you’d lead it back to your little village.

So all that was left as an option was to retreat quietly and make sure you wouldn’t be noticed. For a moment, you got upset that you would have to find another, less convenient flower spot now or do the potion without it. For at least three years, no monster had closed in on that clearing, and yet, now that you needed the flower, you had run into such trouble retrieving it.

Backing away slowly, you walked a while backwards, eyeing the creature still hidden beneath the field of flowers. You were just about to spin around and make a dash for it, hide somewhere in the dark corners of the forest when your foot got caught ever so slightly. Nothing that made you lose your footing, but widened your eyes nonetheless, the shining silver of a claw revealing after you got stuck on it.

The next few moments happened fast, too fast for your human eyes. A flinch, then a growl, and suddenly, the earth broke loose as something erupted from beneath it, a tall, slim body, covered in scales and shining brilliantly in the sunlight.

For a moment, you were mesmerized by it, absolutely awestruck. Seeing a real dragon definitely was better than any portrait painter could put them on a canvas. You realized quickly that it wasn’t just wondering about the creature before you that kept you in place. More so, it was fear. Even when it’s snout came dangerously close to your face, you couldn’t turn and run away.

“Look at you, a smelly little human thief,” it snarked; the perks of being an intelligent creature was it’s ability to speak. “Did you think my flowers were free to take?”

“Where does it say those are yours? Can’t be helped if you sleep on them.” Perhaps, you should have tried a friendlier approach, but it wasn’t like this creature was full of manners either. Against your expectations, though, it only looked at you before suddenly erupting into deep, growling laughter. There was no way to discern if it was actually amused or if it was laughing to mock you, but you took your chance to turn and run, not waiting for a comeback.

“Where are you going?” you heard behind you as you reached the border of the clearing. That suddenly sweet and luring voice made something in you snap. Without thinking, you stopped to look back, the earth around the clearing still torn up, but instead of a dragon, a man stood at the clearing, arms wide open. “You got some nerves, fucking waking me to tell me the flowers aren’t mine and then run away without even taking any. Takes some guts. Here.”

Sweeping down, he picked up one of the few flowers that hadn’t been destroyed by his dragon form, holding it out to you. Aside from the way he spoke, everything suddenly was so tempting. You hadn’t noticed before that the dragon was a shifter, which automatically gave him natural sympathy from you as a human. Their dangerous skill that even a mage like you couldn’t deny.

They were terrible, and you knew it. Everyone told you about how bad shifters were, only ever turning into a human to do bad things. They naturally looked so much better than your average human, too beautiful, too perfect. Their voices were so lovely that they could lull you to sleep, and they emitted the feeling of security that many men and women sought after, making them perfect targets to be kidnapped and, in the worst case, bred or eaten.

But here you were, the little town mage who had never seen a shifter before. The flower in his hand was calling to you to take it back with you, and his voice lured you. Despite resisting, you did have the urge to throw yourself into his arms, like a good, willing target.

Instead, you kept eye contact, holding out your hand for the flower as you approached. His eyes were the only thing reminding you what a beast he was, wild and dangerous, fire burning in them like you could only see in dragons. Yes, you should have just left, but you felt like he actually... accepted your retort. As if it hadn’t been so bad to stand your ground, and that feeling made you confident. Confident that you could handle this situation.

When your finger finally reached around the stem of the flower, he let it go, and immediately, you felt something sharp and painful drill into your forearm. Shocked, you could watch long sharp claws catching a blood-red color as he dragged them down your arm, your body instinctively moving forward to stop the pain.

And that’s when he snapped for you, lifting you up from the ground as if your weight was a joke for him. Throwing you over his shoulder, you were confronted with the feeling of a strong arm pinning your legs to his chest. “Fuck, I hate humans like you. Always talking back, thinking they are in the right.” Giving your rear a rough slap, you yelped before trying to kick your legs unsuccessfully.

He began to move, his shoulder pushing into your stomach so harshly, you felt like throwing up. But before you could complain or say something, you had to watch as the ground before you slowly distanced itself from you, the peaks of the trees soon what came into view. Your still ‘okay’ arm, clutched desperately between the bleeding one and the shifter’s body, trying to find something to hold onto.

“What- Where! Let me down! How dare you!”

“Your really want to be let down now?” Pulling you forward, you landed on his hands under your arms, noticing how your legs struggled in the air without any halt. Finally, you could see his wings and slowly realized what was going on, gulping as you felt helpless in his grasp. “S-Stop this madness! Get me down on earth again!”

“No,” was his simple answer, your cheeks suddenly squishing against his chest as he tugged you in and wrapped you in his arms. Convenient to carry you, yet not helping your problem of feeling helpless. “Not until you learn how to properly behave, Human.”

“I’m not an ordinary human!” you complained, hearing a mocking, “Oh?” rumbling from his chest.

“I’m a mage--”

“And I am so scared. Mage’s are my favorite breakfast.”

A loud laugh erupted all around you, and this time you were sure he was mocking you. “How dare you, you are so rude!” Pounding your hands against his chest, he only laughed more. “That’s it, bare your teeth, little Mage. I love it when my food resists.”

That’s bad, you thought. That’s really, really bad. Magic wouldn’t help against a magical being as he was, and you looked down, seeing the forest, and then your village pass by as he dragged you off. Not like there was anyone who could have helped you in this situation.

“What’s your name, Mage?” he asked, ten minutes into you struggling against him with his arms never tiring. “Why would you want to know?!” you hissed back, and he grunted in response.

“My mother taught me to know the name of the things I put in my mouth; the fuck you care?!” Stretching out your neck, you tried to see his face, but his expression was denied to your gaze by his chin. All you could see were his ears. They seemed unusually red, but you hadn’t looked at them before to compare if that wasn’t normal for a red dragon.

“Just so you know, but the person eating you am I. Katsuki Bakugou. You better speak your last prayers now, Human. And make them good.”

“Well, to say it in your words: Fuck you, Dragon!” Being defiant had helped before. Maybe it would do it again, you hoped.

This time, the rumble in his chest was short as he laughed, different from the ones before. “You’re gonna be my favorite to crush,” he announced, the grip around you tightening until you gasped in pain. Your struggles ceased as you passed out while he carried you off to the no-mans-land that was his home.

He hated to admit it, but the tactic of his friend of simply laying in a bed of flowers and waiting had really paid off, and he was more than overjoyed to have caught someone like you. Having you keep his lair warm would be more than he expected from his endeavor. Katsuki simply loved a bit of a feistiness in the humans he captured, ensuring that you’d give him a good time playing with you before the end of your little togetherness would draw near.

He would make sure to enjoy every second of it.

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After-writing-comment: Well, this sounded better in my head than it turned out to be. Maybe I will rewrite it sometimes from his POV but we’ll see. It’s 2k words long so it would be a shame to just trash it, so I decided on posting it anyway. Sorry if it isn’t what you had in mind either anon!

[lisinfleur]

Santa’s Roots

The request:

Author’s Notes | Some historians claim that Santa Claus’ figure was inspired by Odin. What if it was true? For a certain Modern Viking, it is! Inspired by Harbard’s interaction with young Ivar in the series. I hope you’ll like it! Universe | Vikings Pairing | Ivar x Reader Info | Modern AU, made for Patron’s Holiday Event Words | 1092 ⁑ Warnings: Religious re-readings, unconfirmed comparisons, and sources.

"Why do we have to make this stupid trip?"

Of course, he was annoyed. Even more, because he was planning a trip with Y/N to spend the Christian Christmas in a tropical country enjoying the heat; and now he was forced to drag his limp pained leg through the snow of the Santa Claus Village in Rovaniemi.

Yeah. Lapland.

In the fucking FREEZING FINLAND!

"It's Yule and Christmas and no matter how you look at it, Ivar, it's a family holiday and we'll spend it together."

He loved his beautiful mother, but sometimes that need she had for them to be all together all the time was suffocating. After growing older, he was starting to understand his father's constant trips and to wish Aslaug would do something like fulfilling Sigurd's emptiness and his lack of motherly attention.

But this time, not even Sigurd had escaped that torture. And for the first time, they were both grumpy and moody at the same time.

At least, Y/N had come with him. Sigurd's girl was waiting for him with her family at the beach they had planned to go to together and that trip had forced him to delay. Ubbe as well was grumpy: dating Björn's ex-wife, he saw his hopes to send Torvi's children with Björn that year going down the drain. After all, what kid would want to exchange Santa Claus' village for a trip to the boring Mediterranean with daddy's brand-new chick?

Hvitserk was the only one having fun along with Y/N and the children - the bastard was finding every source of food, candies, and delights through their ways, putting so many smiles on Y/N's face that Ivar was asking all the gods to get his brother fat at the end of that cursed trip. Or at least some good, long and intense diarrhea, so he would have something to laugh at in the middle of all that red, black, gold, and white mess.

"Sorry!" A gods damn dwarf?

Gnome?

Grinch... No. Elf! A gods damn elf stumbled on his crutch, almost taking Ivar's balance, forcing him to stop his already slow steps to straighten the damn titanium braces under the trousers with a loud grunt of anger.

Because of course, his day wasn't doomed enough. No. The pain of that cold shitty place wasn't enough. Nor the elves everywhere, nor the repetitive music, nor the children's noises, fake gift boxes, bells... Not even the irritant bells weren't enough! Someone had to fucking misplace his braces to get him left behind by his whole family...

Kinda his fault: Ivar had walked slower than them all the whole time, trying to get himself distant and leave clear he wasn't happy. Even Y/N had started walking with Hvitserk since his mood was so terrible that not even her was able to hold it this time. He couldn't blame them for avoiding his presence enough not to notice he had to stop...

But where were they after all?

They wouldn't just disappear like that in a matter of minutes.

Ivar had just lowered himself for a moment to straighten the braces... How come they had managed to disappear in the middle of that fucking colored place?

For a moment, Ivar's heart filled with a cold sensation that spread all over this spine. He searched his pockets. Of course, his cellphone hadn't a single bar of signal in that place. His blues ran around searching for his brothers, the noisy children, his mom, Y/N.

And then it was when he realized...

There was no one to be seen.

The noisy children had gone. The elves were gone... Everything was, all of a sudden, silent, except for those bells.

With his crutch, Ivar walked around some steps, trying not to get lost in whatever the fuck was happening around him. But with a few steps forward, as if everything wasn't strange enough, a thick fog started to move around his legs, covering the place, flying ghostly through the gift boxes and colored trees.

Ivar felt the urge to get the heck out of that place. With some effort, he started walking at a quicker pace not observing when the decorations around him started changing from the usual plastic balls and ribbons to colored flowers, painted pine cones, straw animals... His eyes betrayed him, but his ears weren't failing: the bells were becoming higher. And higher...

"I don't know what kind of stupid prank is this! But I don't like it! I didn't pay for this package! I want this to stop right now!" he yelled.

Just to almost lose his balance once again when a horse exhaled behind his back, forcing him to turn around in a quick movement that cost him a grunt of pain, bending Ivar's body over itself when his hand touched the knee of his right leg. The braces had made a loud sound indicating it was a forced movement and now his knee was horribly aching once again.

However, the pain was something usual for him. Unusual was to see Santa Claus not dressed in the traditional red clothes... Unusual was to watch the old man coming down from a horse... Wait. How many legs did that fucking horse have?

And how the fuck did he have a horse? Shouldn't it be reindeers?

And a sled?

"What in..." Ivar started, swallowing dry and lifting his face to see the man in front of him was smiling.

A visible and open smile in the middle of the big and voluminous white beard covering his jaw and cascading down to his belly.

"Hello, Ivar," the man said with a surprisingly cozy voice, causing Ivar's face to twist in a frown of pure surprise, full of wrinkles on his forehead that earned one of the usual laughs from the white-bearded man.

"What the heck?" Ivar said, straightening himself even with pain on his leg. "Who told you my name? And why the fuck are we alone in this place?"

The man continued calm and smiley despite Ivar's clear annoyance.

"I know many names, boy. And I know you, since you were, in fact, a boy," the man said, looking down to Ivar's legs. "They still ache a lot, I can see."

Ivar's frown gained two more wrinkles on his forehead.

"What? Where do you know me? Who are you, man?" he asked, fully annoyed by what he was sure was a ridiculous prank his mother had paid for him to fall on, in the hope he would, somehow, like that trip into the middle of the freezing nowhere.

But the man just laughed once again, touching Ivar with a gentle pat that soon became a heavy hand weighing on Ivar's shoulder, forcing his whole attention to detail he wasn't able to notice before but now was clear like crystal in front of his eyes.

That man... That strange Santa Claus...

He clearly didn't have one of his eyes.

Ivar's blues were somehow attracted into the emptiness of that missing eye. And he swore he could hear the bells stopping, and crows cawing. The fog became stronger, but Ivar couldn't stop looking at that empty hole on that man's face until something formed into the dark.

Something that made Ivar's blues large when the voice of that man sounded once again, rumbling into Ivar's chest like a clap of thunder.

"I know everyone that was and everyone that will be. I'm the one who was and remains. And after you're gone, I'll still be here, until the wolf comes to swallow me whole. But before you go, I can still grant you a gift, son. Let us say you were good this year," the old man joked.

His words filling Ivar's ears while his eyes were locked at the image into that man's empty eye-hole.

"Yggdrasil..." Ivar mumbled.

And his eyes blinked, seeing the whole man once again in front of him, smiling.

"Odin?" he asked.

Receiving nothing but a new pat on his shoulder and once again, the traditional giggle that came along the whole noisy environment around, all at once invading Ivar's ears like a wave of noise and mess once again.

"Ho ho ho... Merry Christmas!"

Standing in front of him was nothing but an actor, fully dressed like the old Santa. Nothing different from the usual along with the fake gift boxes and all the rest Ivar could see when he turned his head, confused, searching for that whole illusion he was thrown into one second ago.

Was that a delirium? Was that somehow real?

"What's wrong, Ivar?" Y/N's voice woke him up and called his attention causing Ivar to once again turn himself too quick to look at her.

Another clang from his braces. Ivar waited for the wave of pain...

But it never came.

"Are your legs ok? Are you in pain, love?" she asked, fully worried.

But Ivar looked shocked down to his legs, feeling nothing. Absolutely no pain. Like one of his best-bones' days...

The days he used to say were gifts from the gods into his life.

"I... I... I think I... I'm fine I just... For a moment..." Ivar gasped with the words.

His eyes were still searching around for that image so vivid of Odin he had seen. He was sure he had seen! It was real!

And he took his pain away for a day...

"You see? The cold is starting to freeze Ivar's brain! Can we go home or at least somewhere warm now?" Sigurd complained.

The kids coming closer to Ubbe with their hands full of candy canes from Hvitserk's bag.

Everyone was so close... They didn't have disappeared.

But Ivar was sure he was the only one who saw that man.

"Are you ok, Ivar?" Y/N asked again and Ivar finally focused his eyes on her.

"I am. I'm just... I think I just need some warm chocolate and we can stay a little longer... For the kids, I mean."

"What?" Sigurd complained immediately. "See? Frozen brains!" he said, pointing Ivar's head.

But Ivar just approached Y/N's, speaking low, almost like a secret.

"Do you believe this thing about... Santa and Odin... Being the same person and stuff?" he asked, causing Y/N to smile.

"Oh, this is why you're so bothered, isn't it? Babe, don't be like this, uh? Some historians say that our Santa is somehow inspired by Odin with his eight-legged horse, granting gifts to his followers and knowing who was acting bad or good along his way. If it makes you feel more comfortable then think about this place as Odin's village!" she joked.

Getting a small curve from Ivar's lips.

"Come, let's get you that hot chocolate, uh?" she said, enlacing his arm with her own and starting to walk at his pace towards the coffee shop Hvitserk was already entering for what? The third time?

Ivar's eyes looked back at that man dressed as Santa Claus, complimenting everyone. His steps showing him his legs weren't aching at all anymore. Whoever it was, Santa Claus, Odin... It had really granted him a gift for that day.

The Santa turned looking at him once again.

And Ivar could swear that one-eyed man winked at him before it was nothing but the actor once again.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" the man yelled.

Santa Claus' Village... Odin's place... It wasn't that bad to make that trip after all.

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[funnygirlthatbelle]

11, 20, and 38 for Breena!

What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

As obvious as it is, child abuse is a big one for her. Also hypocrites! Doing something bad is one thing, but doing something bad when you’re against the thing you’re doing? Unacceptable.

Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures?

Hm, does my forest gnome druid like animals? Just a little bit 😆 She’s a huge nerd about animals and absolutely loves all beasts except wasps because fuck wasps. And while her parents never let her have a pet, I have a lot of feelings about post-grad Breena adopting a grumpy old Maine coon almost as big as her and naming him something like Mr. Wiggles.

What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc?

Well, our girl has glasses, so super sunny days can get a little annoying. I think her ideal day is partly cloudy but mostly blue skies, a light breeze, maybe about 65 degrees? Definitely some end of May/early June vibes.

[fluffyglass]

THE MR. RUDE APOLOGISM MASTERPOST

you may be asking "Oh dear god what has Finn gotten up to this time?" well, that my friend, is a very valid question! The answer to which is as follows: He's rewatched every single TMMS segment with Mr. Rude in it to prove that he's done nothing wrong!

After many many hours of rewatching, I've come to some conclusions on the depressed tomato man. I'll give a quick rundown here, then throw my episode by episode analysis under the cut.

Season 1

Mr. Rude is in 30 episodes in Season 1.

In only 3 of these episodes does he do anything wrong.

In 4 of the episodes where he's innocent, Mr. Fussy yells at him for no reason.

Season 2

Mr. Rude is in 30 episodes in Season 2.

In only 6 of these episodes does he do anything wrong.

In 1 of the episodes where he's innocent, as well as one where he did do something wrong, Mr. Fussy yells at him for no reason.

Conclusions

In total, Mr. Rude only actually did anything wrong in 9 out of the 60 segments he's in, which is 15%. That's less than a quarter of the time. Even counting the three episodes I was unsure about, that's only 12/60. 20%. Still less than a quarter.

Why have I been bringing up Mr. Fussy? Because this experience genuinely made me not like him anymore. In only one out of Mr. Fussy's 7 appearances with Mr. Rude does he not yell at him, and in five of the times he does - it was completely unjustified.

Now, onto the episode by episode section!

Ah, you wanna see my episode by episode analysis? Well, I'll give you a quick color legend first.

Yellow - Mr. Rude does nothing wrong

Red - Mr. Rude does something wrong

Blue - Mr. Fussy yells at Mr. Rude for no reason

Pink - I have no idea what to put for this one lmao

Also, there's a ton of cursing in here because I wrote these notes as I went along and I don't feel like editing them to be more professional. You get what you get when it comes to Mr. Rude apologism.

SEASON 1

Flying - He does nothing wrong, he just asked Mr. Grumpy to do his fucking job. Though, I will admit, he was a dick about it.

Music - He does nothing wrong, Miss Naughty is a fucking bitch and Mr. Fussy targeted him for no got damn reason even though he has fucking ears and should have heard Miss Naughty going off on her fucking cymbals. Miss Naughty also tried to poison him so

Farm - He does nothing wrong, those bitch ass crows broke his fucking robot I cant believe this.

Booboos - He does nothing wrong, he literally just wants some decent service while he is in the fucking hospital and Mr. Scatterbrain is a fucking moron about it

Mall - He's barely in it and I will admit he is a bit of an asshole in this one but he doesn't do anything explicitly wrong

Birthday - He does nothing wrong, he just wants to buy a birthday present for his homie Mr. Grumpy. In fact, he shows that he cares about his friend because he knows what he would want (and gets something he wouldnt like, presumably as a joke). Hes a caring friend but also a troll.

Superstore - He does nothing wrong, he just wants to return his shitty toaster. It ends up well for everyone involved :)

Books - He does nothing wrong, he is literally just neurodivergent and cannot read social situations

Camping - He does nothing wrong, he tried to warn everyone that they were going the wrong way, and then called out Miss Whoops on her fucking bullshit and putting everyone in danger. He then proceeded to fucking die. Miss Daredevil doesnt even give a shit about two of the raft riders fucking dying what the fuck.

Paint - He does nothing wrong, he just wants to finish his painting commission.

Jobs - This is the one I time I'll admit he does something really wrong. He commits multiple driving related crimes, as well as throwing his sandwich at Mr. Quiet, splashing Mr. Nosey and Mr. Small, and taking advantage of Mr. Scatterbrain's stupidity. He also crumpled up Mr. Scatterbrain's drawing of a hamster.

Trains - He does nothing wrong, Mr. Fussy's a bitch ass motherfucker, and he did more good than bad because he rescued Mr. Messy at the end.

Fair - He does nothing wrong, he got a fucking pie yeeted at him of course he wouldn't like it. He does put the pie in Mr. Scatterbrain's face though but he already got it in his face so it's just even now. He then proceeds to be pelted with pies. But thankfully it seems like they're both having fun by the end.

Movies - Yeah he's a bit of an asshole in this one. He puts too much cheese on Mr. Happy's nachos (and then throws them at him). He does get his karma though cause he gets fucking trapped in the popcorn machine someone please save him oh my god.

Dance - He does nothing wrong, he just has taste.

Inventions - He does nothing wrong, Miss Chatterbox just doesnt like him for the way he is which is super fucked up of her. What the fuck, man. He accepts Miss Chatterbox's invention regardless. He then proceeds to be abused by everyone around him. Hes totally justified in being mean at the end.

Amusement Park - Okay yeah he was an asshole in this one, cause he was rude to Miss Calamity about her supposed grooming habits. However, he was also abused a lot during multiple of the bumpers, which I guess counts as karma.

Adventure - He literally doesnt even do anything in this one

Rainy Day - Dude, his entire fucking family died. Give him a break.

Games - He did nothing wrong, he won the fucking game but Mr. Scatterbrain took the credit what the fuck he only had 3 POINTS MR RUDE HAD 4 MR. HAPPY YOU DUMB YELLOW FUCK LEARN HOW TO COUNT

Restaurants - He does nothing wrong, Mr. Fussy is so fucking mean to him I will never get over this he deserves so much better what the fuck

Cars - he's just vibin man

Canned Goods - He does nothing wrong, he just ate some beans man

Collecting - he's barely in it and just kinda vibes

Full Moon - He does nothing wrong, he legit just got kidnapped by some fucking aliens with his alien husband

Heatwave - He does nothing wrong, 6 gay men just casually committed acts of Home Invasion and are going to be arrested for their crimes against him.

Sleep - He does nothing wrong, and I doubt anyone would have even noticed he was asleep if Miss Chatterbox kept her fucking mouth shut. He cant control what hes doing if hes fucking asleep. Even after all that he still clapped for Mr. Fussy, who hates him, at the end. What a champ.

Carwash - He does nothing wrong, Miss Calamity technically fucking kidnapped him what the fuck.

Lawns - He does nothing wrong, he didn't want to take his lawn to begin with and then got his lawn ruined for literally no reason, even after warning Me. Nosey and Mr. Small that their invention was gonna explode. He even gave Miss Chatterbox the joy in knowing she "won".

Parade - He does nothing wrong, he legit just made a float and Mr. Fussy fucking bullied him for it. What the fuck.

SEASON 2

Clean Teeth - Yeah hes a bitch in this one but Mr. Fussy was also a bitch so it evens out.

Airports - He does nothing wrong, he just wanted to go on his flight. Of anything, Miss Scary was more rude than he was.

Game Shows - He does nothing wrong like. Genuinely nothing, and then gets physically assaulted.

Hats - He does nothing wrong, Mr. Grumpy's just a fucking bitch and took credit for both his and Mr. Tickles hats. What the fuck, man.

Robots - He does nothing wrong, he legit just got his baguette burnt wtf

Up and Down - He's fine for the first bit but I will admit hes an asshole in the second one

Gifts - He does nothing wrong, he's just trying to keep Mr. Tickle from fucking assaulting people. Then his entire store is destroyed for no reason.

Sun and Moon - He does nothing wrong, he barely did anything at all

Telephone - I refused to watch this one I just know hes a bitch in it

Washing and Drying - He does nothing wrong, he just wanted his laundry done and he got assaulted at the end. Why is this a trend.

Fruit - He stole Miss Sunshines fucking fruit and then proceeded to endanger everyone around him by driving recklessly. What the fuck, man.

Radio - He does nothing wrong, Mr. Scatterbrain is just a moron, and Miss Whoops is a dumbass.

Supermarket - ???

Cinema - He doesn't do anything wrong, and he looks very nice in his new hat.

Post Office - He doesn't do anything wrong, hes trying his best okay (he also gets covered in stamps at the end)

Pets - He doesn't do anything wrong, he doesn't do anything at all

Dance Dance Dance - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Fussy's a fucking bitch

Trees - He doesn't do anything wrong, someone free him

Library - He didnt even do anything man

Pirates - He doesn't do anything wrong, in fact he is the first to jump in and protect his crewmates from the aliens. He also saves the entire space crew in the end.

Trains and Planes - He doesn't do anything wrong, he barely does anything to begin with

Out to Sea - He doesn't do anything wrong, it makes sense for him to act in his own self interest because he was stuck on a deserted island with those three morons for 30 fucking days. He didn't intend to take the boat, because the tide rolled him out. He is now inevitably going to die.

Next Door - Yeah hes a bitch in this one, but he didnt deserve to get his fucking car crushed.

Lunch - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Stubborn drew first blood.

Machines - This is a weird one. Is he really in the wrong for wanting to go home? I mean, it's safe to assume Miss Giggles is fucking dead if she was taken by a dinosaur. He even vows not to doubt Miss Daredevil at the end and is happy to see Miss Giggles okay

Fairies and Gnomes - even though he thinks it's silly that Mr. Nervous is scared of a garden gnome, he still "arrests" it to make him happy :)

Home Improvement - He doesn't do anything wrong, Mr. Stubborn is just a moron.

Birds - He doesn't do anything wrong, he was even nice enough to invite Mr. Nervous along for the birdwatching trip. He's totally justified in not giving a shit about Mr. Fussy because Mr. Fussy has been nothing bit horrible to him the entire show.

Parks - He does nothing wrong he just wanted a burger

Surprises - Refused to watch this one again, I just know hes a bitch

Wow, that's a lot. Anyways, as a proud Mr. Rude apologist, I conclude that he's an innocent man and doesn't deserve the shit he gets. I can get taking his drivers license though that man cannot drive for the life of him

[malfoysqueen54]

White Flag Part 2

Dean and her grew up together, trained together. Also, absolutely can’t be in the same room without a fight ensuing. When she has to come back and help out the boys and their friends. If she stays too long will all her secrets come out. She swore he would never know, circumstances and their friends and family, they might have other ideas.

Pairing- Dean x reader

Warnings: Angst!, oh and ANGST! Triggers for Alcohol and drug abuse. Anger issues. Dean angry and yelling. (That needs a warning). Eventually smut. Sexual situations, cussing, blood, gore, the usual Supernatural warning.

*Thank You @winchest09 and @emoryhemsworth for looking at this. Love you ladies*

She stood there, glaring at Sam. Never had she been so furious with him. “We always, ALWAYS, tried to save him and you,” she huffed, “you don’t just walk away!” Her voice raised as she finished her sentence, her breathing deepening.

Sam sighed. “We made a promise to move on if one of us died.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW HE IS DEAD!” She bellowed. 

“Y/n,” the young Winchester said gently, trying to soften the blow that Dean was probably gone.

“NO! Fuck you, Samuel!” she growled and spun away. If Sam wouldn’t look, she would. She had to try to find Dean. He may never care, but she did, and she had to try.

After months, she figured if he was alive, he could be in Purgatory, along with Cass too. Two whole rooms of her house were wallpapered with possibilities, littered with maps, lore, pictures, and interviews. The bottle of Johnny Walker was her only friend these days as she tried to figure out how to enter limbo, how to track Dean and Cass. She got maybe an hour or two of sleep every couple of days. Frustration mounted as she couldn’t figure it out. The manic labyrinth of booze, worry, and no sleep had left her unable to put the pieces together. Y/n refused to involve shithead Sam, though.

On the verge of a breakdown, she got a voicemail from Sam: Dean was alive, safe, and had returned. The relief let her slumber for two days before she flew off to see him, only to be confronted with an angrier than usual Dean Winchester. Y/n couldn’t blame him. He didn’t care to see her; no change there. He was mainly pissed at Sam, as was she.

Benny was the only good thing she received from that horrible year. She and Benny got close.

Finding out Dean had sent him back to Purgatory for Sam sent her into a rage again. She dug out all her research to figure out how to bring back her friend. She went to Purgatory alone and convinced him to come back with her. She needed a trusted friend, and the vampire and Y/n had bonded over a few common things.

Dean was stunned to see him and pissed that she went by herself, not telling anyone. When he said as much, she scoffed and rolled her eyes and quipped back, “Like you care, Winchester.”

-------------------------------------------

She was groggy, descending down the stairs, rubbing her eyes as Benny gave her coffee.

“Are you ready to go?” he questioned. 

She shook her head. “No, I have to pick up Jack's gift. I will meet you there tomorrow.”

Benny sighed. “You better.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I will. Now get going! I have to get moving to get his gift.” She shooed him off, moving back towards her room as Benny grabbed his coat, getting in the car without looking back. He would regret that later.

 As Y/n entered, she was surprised by a man in her room, a short man. She dropped her coffee, diving for her dresser drawer and grabbing her Smith & Wesson. Before she could grasp it, a force threw her back against the wall. Her eyes landed on the man who had barely moved again; he turned slowly, smiling sweetly. 

“Y/n, it’s been a while.” It was Chuck. This was not good.

Her jaw clenched, staring at the gnome of a man/God himself. After a labored breath, she spoke. “What do you want, you ass?”

“Well, see, that’s interesting. I want you,” he pointed at her before refolding his hands.

“What? Why?!” Her brow furrowed, asking her question, confused as to what God himself wanted with her.

Chucks head hemmed and hawed back and forth. “See, you’re causing problems for my story. You were an unforeseen consequence for the Winchesters. You’re a plot problem, Y/n,” he explained matter of factly to her, still smiling. That was going to get infuriating.

She had no idea what he meant, yet he was approaching her. 

“See,” he paused, “I have plans for the Winchesters, and you constantly seem to be in the way when it concerns Dean. I can’t have that this time.” That smug smile was still resting on his face.

She eyed him warily. “I don’t know—“

“Don’t lie, Y/n. You always try to save Dean, you intervene, even from afar. I cannot have that. So, you’re coming with me, sweetie.” That deceiving sweet look was still on his face, and she began to struggle against him, holding her against the wall.

“Shhh, you’re going to be fine, but I have to keep you with me. You meddle too much.” Chuck snapped his fingers.

Next thing she knew, she opened her eyes and was in a dark room. It was closer to a swanky home than a dingy warehouse. Her gaze took in the finished wood floors, expensive furniture, and the wilderness outside the door. An even dusting of snow-capped the mountains in the distance. Where the hell did he send her? She was still immobile, and upon further inspection, she found that she was strapped to, well… a cross. How poetic of him.

 Pulling on the restraints was no use, but she struggled against the ropes for over an hour before showing his face again, walking into the office.

“Now,” Chuck began in a cheery tone, pulling his jacket off, hanging it up.

 “Where are we, you shrew?” she snapped quickly, chilly, still only dressed her tank top and night pants.

“Alaska, actually. Very remote, humans can only get here by boat or plane. We’re in the middle of nowhere. You’re not going to scream, and whine are you?” He asked, looking displeased. “I mean, I thought you were stronger than that.”

 Her eyes narrowed at him. “I knew I was an agnostic for a good reason. You are nothing anybody wants to believe in. It’s wretched, really,” her voice snarled at the tiny God.

Chuck’s lips pursed, then clucked, his smile returning. “I really wish I had thought of you as a character. Truly, you have so many flaws to work in, though.” He picked up papers off his desk. “Unrequited love for Dean,” he tossed the paper away. “You’re an orphan, abandonment issues, which both Winchesters solidified, mind you.” He looked up at her and threw that paper aside. “Drugs,” another paper tossed aside. “Alcohol, bad eating habits, promiscuous, you’re actually very cliché, Y/n.” He thumbed through papers in front of him.

Her jaw ground together as she rolled her eyes. “Even the typical… ‘oh, I love the bad boy, and he hates me’ thing,” Chuck looked at her blandly.” Can you be any more pathetic?” God shook his head, throwing it on the desk. “Yet, still, you have become a nuisance, a headache where Dean is concerned.” Putting his fingers against his chin and wrapping an arm around his waist, he circled you as his finger rose into the air. “I know about Butte, Montana.”

Those words sent ice through her veins; she withered in her restraints. Chuck took the time to actually step up into her face for the next part. “I also know how hard you worked to make him forget and yourself.” His voice was like the sound of a whisper from a serpent: she knew she had to comply. She had to protect Dean—hell, even herself—from that memory.

Chuck smirked a Cheshire cat-like smile, knowing he had her. “So, I win,” he winked at her, her body sagging in defeat against the literal cross she was on.

@formulafun @winchest09 @emoryhemsworth @talesmaniac89 @superfanficnatural​ @flamencodiva​​ @janicho88​ @katehuntington​ @waywardbeanie​ @whatareyousearchingfordean​ @pegasusdragontiger​ @thorne93​ @anathewierdo​ @jensengirl83​ @jules-1999​ @deanwanddamons​ @atc74​ @smol-and-grumpy​ @magellan-88​

[melyaliz]

Remember me pt 5

Master List

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x oc 

Notes: This dumbass posted chapter 6 before posting chapter 5... so yeah that happened. so think of it this way. You get two chapters in one.  

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest

DONATE or REQUEST

-0-0-0-0-0-0-- Olive --0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It was the perfect day as they both laid out on the cool grass watching the sunset over the large open-air venue. A plate of bacon cheese fries and two beers between them.

“This has been such an amazing time” Olive sighed moving her hand over so she could get it tangled up in Eliott’s.

“Yeah, best birthday gift ever from the best wife ever,” he said turning to look at her with a smile

“You're welcome” she said, “I had to try to keep up with the amazing gift that is you being in my life.”

He scrunched up his face pulling it back so it made him look like he had a million chins in his golden beard. “I’m ok,” this earned him a soft slap on his thick stomach.

“Oh stop,” she said. They lapsed into silence again just enjoying the Heavy Mental that was playing on the stage. Knotfest had been a full day experience and they were taking a short break from rocking out to have some dinner and just relax before the main event

“So I was thinking” she started “It’s not that I don’t love my job.”

“I know,” he said, turning on his side taking a swig of his beer, his stormy eyes watching her.

“It’s just, I’m actually making pretty good money doing this smut novel thing, and... maybe I can cut back on my hours?”

“Yeah, that makes sense.” He said nodding.

“It may make a dip in our funds though.”

“Yeah but the more novels you write the more money you make. Besides, sports season is about to start up again in a month and I may have some leads on hero work.”

“Wait really?” she turned to him. Excited about the idea of him trying something new. Hero work paid good money too.

“Nothing concrete yet but I say let’s take the leap. You are happy writing and I want you to do what makes you happy.”

Olive smiled biting her lip, her heart feeling so full at the moment.  “You are what makes me happy,” she said leaning forward kissing him.

“Well that’s good because I don’t know if you know this but…” he leaned forward whispering in her ear, “I kind of love you.”

“WHHHAAATTT” Olive gasped pulling back her hand over her mouth in shock. “Are you drunk or something?”

“Maybe you're just beautiful,” Eliott laughed.

“So are you.”

“I guess,” the blonde man said stroking his beard, “if you’re into that gnome look.”

“My hot gnome,” Olive said, kissing him again as the band wrapped up.

“Are you ready?” Eliott asked, pulling away. Olive raised an eyebrow confused, “To open up the fucking pitttt” he said moving his elbows around pretending to mosh pushing himself into Olive who fell into the grass giggling and laughing as she tried to push him off.  

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

They stood there for a few moments. His overwhelming scent and body looming over her. She didn’t feel trapped or worried. He had never given her a reason too. Even if he did have a grumpy face, he always treated her tenderly.

Or at least from the three days they had been together.

So while she didn’t feel uncomfortable she was painfully aware of his body over hers. Her breath shallow as if she couldn’t seem to catch it. It was obvious that he wanted to kiss her and was testing the waters.  The way he looked at her, just close enough that if either of them moved they would touch. The pull so strong it seemed to tug at her very soul.

But for some reason, she couldn’t give in. Her body and mind at such odds with each other it was making her head spin. Her heart racing so fast in her chest she thought it might just come out of her body entirely. Pound a hole right through her

Gently she pressed her hands on his chest. His own hand warm came up clasping itself around her cold fingers as he looked down at her.

“I… it’s late,” she whispered as if breaking the spell, waking him up. For a moment, just the briefest of moments. He looked very putout. Upset.

Looking away he nodded stepping back letting her brush past him toward the bedroom. He watched her go frozen in his spot until she was out of sight. Then letting out a growl he punched the wall where she had been standing. Frustration coursing through her veins like venom burning him from the inside out.

By the time Bakugou had cooled down enough to face her again Olive was already in bed with Dolemite. The cat looked totally content his long thick tail swaying back and forth as he lay curled up next to his owner. Never in his life had Bakugou ever wanted to be a cat so bad. To have that unconditional love like he got.

“Hello” her soft voice came from the bed as she watched him go into the large closet to change coming out in some sweats, shirtless. The sight of him makes her look away for a moment and he can’t help himself, the anger still there bubbling just below the service.

“Can I sleep in these? I mean normally I’m in boxers.”

“You can do whatever you want” was her response as she studied his expression, “this is your house.”

The single comment deflated him. She was always like that. Never engaging him in his anger. Even when she remembered him she would just let him yell it out and then move on. “It’s yours too” he mumbled running his fingers through his hair looking up at her feeling completely defeated.

At his soft comment, Olive felt sick. A sadness washing over her as she looked at the blonde before her. He just looked… so lost. Like a basset hound with those sad eyes.

“Did… you want to sleep here?” she asked hesitantly. They were married, she reasoned. She had loved him once. Trusted him. There had to be a reason she had broken her vow of living the rest of her life alone. There must have been something that had made her be able to find someone who could measure up to Eliott.

He looked so surprised at her question that it reminded her of a child who was just told they could have an extra piece of candy. The look of shock frozen on his face as his eyes went from her to the bed she was nestled in. Then frowning he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“You sure?”

She nodded trying not to laugh at him. He was so grumpy all the time. However her smile seemed to encourage him because with a simple shrugged as if he didn’t care -he did- he lept into the bed almost crushing Dolemite who let out a cry of annoyance. Grabbing the cat he tossed the fluff ball onto the floor before studying Olive. She looked back at him unsure of what he wanted to say then it dawned on her.

“Am I on the wrong side?”  

“It’s fine”

“It’s clearly not.” she said getting up and stepping over him, “Move”

He did, watching her intently as she cuddled up again getting comfortable. He had this intense stair that was slightly unnerving. Olive vaguely wondered if it was just reserved for her or if he looked at everyone like that.

“Katsuki,” she said looking up at him. At the sound of his name, he looked down at her. Still stiffly sitting up in the bed.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you marry me?”  

“What do you mean?” he asked, studying her.

“I mean,” she said rolling onto her back looking up at the ceiling, “You are the number 1 hero, very hot, and seem like a pretty normal guy. I, on the other hand, am some weird girl who apparently now only writes smutty novels.” then sitting up something struck her.

“Wait how many have I written?”

“You just finished your fifteenth.” he studied her totally confused by her sudden shift in mood.

Her eyes went wide, a grin spreading across her face, “Do you know what this means?”

“No what?”

“I get to read my stories without remembering writing them. It’s like… every writer’s dream. I just want to be able to read my story . Well, now I can!”

He couldn’t help but smile because he wasn’t sure about other writers but he routinely came home from work to find her laying on the floor moaning about how she just wanted the story to be written.

“I just want to read my story”

“So hurry up and write it.”

“It’s not that easy ok!” letting out a groan dramatically she pushed her laptop off her stomach. Then rolled onto her stomach before fake crying, face down in the carpet. “It’s HARRRRDDDD”

Fighting back a smile he walked over gently kicking her in the side. Looking up she glared at him through messy hair. “Stop being a little bitch," he said playfully earning him a middle finger.

“You were the first” his voice was soft as he watched her giggling to herself over the excitement of finding her books and reading them tomorrow. Pausing Olive turned confused by his comment studying him.

“Huh?”

“You were the first,” Bakugou said again, his chrisom eyes so intense she couldn’t look away, “You were the first woman I had ever met who just… I liked.”

“Oh,” there was a soft flutter in her stomach as she looked up at him. “So weird but ok.”

“That’s not weird!” he snapped angrily, “You can’t just say that after I say something romantic like that!”

Biting her lip Olive leaned back into her pillows. It had just kind of slipped out. She had never understood why Eliott had loved her and when he had died she had just assumed she would never meet another man who could love her. Who could follow up an act like Eliott.

Looking at the man next to her Olive wanted to tell him she loved him too. Wanted to somehow explain that he must have been someone special. But it sounded fake and forced in her head. “It’s really sweet Katsuki” she finally said. “You have been nothing but perfect this whole time with me. Showing me all these things I like. It’s like you just know.”

“Idiot I do,” he said laying down arms folded over his stomach. His whole body dejected, frustrated trying to find the right words.  “I know that mushrooms make you sick. That you liked weird movies. You have a strange obsession with ugly things.” slowly Bakugou turned to meet her gaze. “You love to watch people and have always seemed to see things no one else does.” it was like he was reading her soul. Going into her brain and pulling out who she was and laying it out in front of her. “I know that you love to get dressed up but after an hour you are back into your PJs. That you are one of the most loyal people I have ever met and even when I’m in the wrong you are on my side. You are the reason I’m number 1. You kept pushing me and finding ways to move me from being number 2. Not because you cared about my rank but because I wanted it so badly.”

“I…” Olive paused unsure how to respond to this. It was incredibly romantic. So soft and gentle. But it was coming from a stranger. It was like listening to someone talking about someone else. There was no history on her side. No context to what he was saying. As if someone had written those words about her and then had an incredibly hot guy read them too her. She felt uncomfortable with his tender words. So unsure how to react to the,.

“Don’t” he sighed rolling onto his back again, “I know you don’t remember so don’t try and make me feel better because I know you want too. I’m not some pathetic guy who needs you to make him feel better.”

“I know this isn’t what you want Katsuki but…” she took a deep breath, “I know I loved you and I know that even if I don’t get my memories back I will love you again.”

“Yeah? and how do you know that?” he asked harshly, glancing at her. Giving her major side-eye as if scared to really look at her after spilling his heart out to her like that.

“Because,” she said, reaching out gently, touching his shoulder in what she hoped was a comforting touch. “I would never commit myself to marry someone unless I knew that our love was forever. I didn’t do that with Eliott and I wouldn’t have done that with you or anyone else.”

He turned then, studying her. She had told him a week after he had proposed that if they did get married that as long as he was alive she would never marry anyone else. That when they said “I do” that she was committing herself to him for life. When she had said it then he had thought it was one of those cultural things where she was trying to make sure he knew what marriage meant to her. But now laying there with her not knowing him at all he realized what that meant.

When she had told him she loved him and that she wanted him forever, she had meant it. And even if she didn’t remember him she knew herself enough to trust that she had loved him. That she wasn’t going to leave him.

Him, not Eliott.

Not anyone else.

Him.

-GET TAGGED- 

Master List

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm

[luci-cunt]

Hi, welcome to my open worm can, here’s me not being able to shut up Cureless and Cynical version @sargent-major-jane​ whyyyyyyy do youuuu doooo thiisss too meee aksdjfl;askdj XDD <33

Ok so first of all, here’s the cast: Izyc, a demon; Walter, a vampire; Lou a werewolf 6 year old

The story starts out with Walter summoning a demon (who happens to be Izyc) because he wants to bring his friend (Caine) back from the dead. Walt’s at this point basically a dumbass rich fratboy and him and Caine had this pretty not great friendship that was super co-dependant and toxic because Caine is not a good person. Anyways, Caine ends up dying, but the circumstances seem fishy because no one will talk to Walter about it so he gets the fantastic idea to bring Caine back from the dead. 

Izyc’s a little ass tho and he’s like “how do you want him?” and so Walter orders one supersized friend resurrection. 

“Alright,” Izyc said, cracking his knuckles and standing up, “which one is he?”

Walter pointed to Caine’s grave and Izyc walked over to stand in front of it. He scanned the grave stone, it was made of lacquered wood, with Caine’s name burned into it. “A wonderful son and friend with an honest soul, he will be missed.”

“Must be nice to have one of these,” Izyc remarked, more joking than wistful, “I think my parents buried me in a Payless box in the backyard.”

“Sorry,” Walter said, not sure what to say. 

Izyc just shrugged, “them’s the apples,” he said, which didn’t make sense to Walter but Izyc was moving on.

There’s just one problem with this whole thing, and that’s the fact that Caine does NOT want to be alive. The reason no one told Walter about Caine’s death in detail was because Caine killed himself, and now he’s back as a nearly unkillable monster. 

So Caine mauls the hell out of Walter’s arm and turns HIM into a vampire. 

Some details about vampires in this world: they’re nearly unkillable. The only thing that can kill them is another vampire. The sunlight thing is a myth, Walt is allergic to garlic tho. Also he’s got fangs, and has better senses. Oh and there’s a wrinkle: the vampiric disease can be transfered thru bodily fluids--I promise this will be important later XDD

Anywhoo--Walt’s a vampire now and he’s grouchy and grumpy about it. he goes all emo and the story flashes forward 7ish years to him sulking in a bar even though he can’t get drunk he just LiKeS tHe BuRn. 

this is where we find out Izyc has stuck around, and that him and Walter hunt monsters. Also that Izyc really likes his pair of jeans. 

Izyc cried out as he hit the ground, scrambling to hold onto something as the gnome dragged him down into the tunnels. His arms hit the sides of the tunnel and stopped him and he cursed. 

Walter was on him in a second, grabbing him by the coat as Izyc held onto his arms and pulled against the gnome. 

“Fucking– catch– fire!” Walter yelled, straining to pull Izyc out of the hole. 

“I like these jeans!” Izyc yelled back, “Ow! Shit!” he yelped, probably as the thing’s claws started digging in. 

Oh also: since Izyc is a demon he’s got some magic powers, most namely: the ability to set himself on fire, the ability to conjure anything in the world as long as he makes a deal, and an immunity to vampire sicknesss. 

Also also: these are gnomes in this universe (description courtesy of Izyc’s bestiology)

Surprisingly large, looks a bit like if a mole and a man decided to shit on god’s face by fucking. Claws for hands and pointy faces with milky eyes covered by big, bushy eyebrows. Does not wear clothing, which is a sight, and known for dragging unsuspecting women into their dens during mating seasons. The species is exclusively male and very reclusive/ meek. Will not inhabit anywhere within a mile of another gnome.

So.... moving on.... Izyc and Walt have an odd relationship, they travel around the US living out of hotels (specifically one that’s run by a man eating ghoul named Klancy who may or may not be 100 years old). 

Some details to know about demons: most of them were desperate people who sold their souls to other demons for something in their life. Then when they die they get stuck in this limbo and are basically hellish office workers. People can summon Izyc, but the only ritual most know just pokes at him and he can ignore it. It’s actually how him and Walt get jobs, someone summon’s Izyc and gives him details and then Walt and him zip on over. 

So Izyc’s got nothing better to do and Walt was his first ever deal so sue him, he’s lonely, he just kinda sticks with Walt. After a couple of years tho they start fucking, and both claim it’s for convenience sake--mostly Walt tho, cuz he can’t have sex with anyone who isn’t a vampire unless he wants to make them a vampire and -- yeah anyways.

Izyc catches feelings though, and he tries to pipe up about it, but then Lou crashes into the story. 

Some details to know about werewolves: they don’t only transform under the full moon, but that is a sacred time for them. They’re very ostracized by the world, forced to live in tiny communities and keep to themselves because they’re “dangerous.” 

One day, a vampire comes through and murders Lou’s entire pack

and the two other packs living in the town with them. 

Lou is the only survivor, and she’s friends with a woman named Luca who mentions a bitchy-but-nice vampire named Walter. 

And so Lou’s grieving 6 y/o brain goes “only a vampire can kill another vampire, this is perfect” and tracks Walt down and twists his heart strings until he agrees to at least check the scene out. 

Details about Luca: she’s Walter’s ex-boyfriend’s step-sister and she’s also half banshee. She’s also also one of Walter’s only friends. 

Some details about banshee’s: contrary to popular belief they aren’t omens of death, rather just really fucked up people. They’re usually the product of a hateful birth and feel emotion so strongly they’ll only be able to feel one single emotion in their lives. Usually people’s first emotions when their born is fear, and thus--screaming banshee’s. However, if you’re only part banshee you feel other emotions but they’re still super strong, so Luca’s basically cracked out bipolar. She takes meds that help but if she doesn’t take them it gets BAD.

Anyways, Walter goes to the crime scene, it goes a little like this: 

It started as splatters, dried and dirty looking on the ground. Then it got thicker, darker, and more concentrated. The walls of surrounding buildings were painted with it, and the street looked like it had been bathed in it. At the end of the street, however, was a schoolhouse, which seemed to be the source of all of it. 

Walter’s shiver had nothing to do with the cold. 

“Hey!” a voice called suddenly, stirring Walter out of where he’d been standing, staring at the school. It wasn’t very large, just a long, single story building that had a lot of windows and big doors. Above them were rusting metal letters spelling ‘SMITH CREEK ELEMENTARY.’ Most of the windows were broken and the doors had been torn off their hinges. The lawn in front of the school – which had probably been grass before – was now torn up and muddied from countless claws scrambling and tearing it up. 

“Hey!” The voice called again, this time closer, “you can’t be here.”

Walter turned to find a man walking up to him. He was wearing an officer’s uniform and his face was scrunched up in annoyance behind a big paper mask that covered his mouth and nose. Walter could smell lavender on it. The officer was also quite a bit shorter than Walter, and he had blond hair and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Walter. 

“I’m on business,” Walter said, “a consultant,” he lied. 

The officer gave him a shrewd look, “we didn’t hear anything about you coming up,” he said. 

Walter sighed, “it’s not my fault your department is useless.” The man’s face twitched. “I’m going back to work now, unless you want me to bother my superior and admit you messed up,” Walter said, brushing past the bristling man. 

“What kind of consultant are you supposed to be?” he asked, jogging a bit to catch up to Walter as he picked his way up to the school. There was a shallow set of stairs leading to the doors. The stairs were dark with blood and Walter almost expected them to be tacky. It had been days though, and they were dried by now. 

“Vampiric expert,” Walter said. 

“What are your credentials?” 

Walter turned and flashed his fangs. All the blood drained from the mans face and he took a few quick steps back. Walter didn’t stop walking, just tore through the caution tape blocking the doorway and went inside.

We find out later on that this is actually Caine’s doing, and Caine goes on a bit of the murder spree, which is what the book devolves into. Before it was some cases, a bunch of undocumented kishi (people with hyena faces on the backs of their heads) run into a wyvern problem that turns into a monster smuggling scandal. Izyc pisses off pirates which results in them kidnapping him to try and make Walt murder a bunch of mermaids, which just leads to the mermaids and Walt eating all the pirates. They meet another vampire named Marissa who happens to also be a warlock and zips them into a pocket dimension that’s like a 1950′s nuclear family where Izyc goes crazy, manages to escape, and then has to get into Walt’s pocket dimension and kill his alternate self.

yknow, the usual. 

This is so fucking long I’m so sorry if you managed to get all the way down here I owe you my whole soul aksjdf;lakjsdf;lkajsdf here’s some snippets: 

[strwbrryeos]

The Magic Shop (M)

SUMMARY; Your mother always told you magic came at a price. You should’ve listened. Well, at least you got revenge on that stupid shapeshifter Yoongi.

Genre : smut, angst, magic!au

Pairing : witch!Reader x shapeshifter!Yoongi

Contains : rough sex, grinding, nipple play, unprotected sex, you’re soulmates Jungkook said so, oral, hand job, creampie, enemies to lovers, major character death, lotta angst, sorry not sorry, dirty talk, praise kink, minor dom!Yoongi, finger sucking

Links removed! Please visit my blog for the master list!

Yoongi can feel the wind rushing under him; it’s almost as amazing as how free he feels. He loves this. Loves as the air bends around him, doing his bidding and keeping him afloat.

His favorite thing, however, has to be the fact that for a time, he can forget about you.

Well, that is until he lands to find you scowling at him with a very grumpy face. Terrible.

“Min Yoongi!” you screech, causing passersby to nearly jump out of their skin.

Yoongi huffs, shedding his owl form for that of a handsome, young man. So much for the freedom. “What?” he groans. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He shoves his way past you and into the store, ignoring the way your eyes burn holes into his back. Or at least, he tries to ignore it. But then he’s acutely aware of how his back hurts and oh my god is that smoke?

“Y/N!” he screams in panic, “stop it! Stop it!”  

“What? You seem―”

“Y/N!” shouts a new voice, distant and annoyed. “Stop setting your coworker on fire!”

With a dissatisfied sigh and a snap of your fingers, the flame on Yoongi’s back disappears, though the new scorch marks on his shirt aren’t much better. “Really?” he asks, and he has half a mind to turn into a wolf right now and snap your neck. Maybe next time.

“Next time don’t be late,” you say with a simple shrug.

“Are you just mad because I bit you last time?”

“You could’ve given me rabies!”

“For the last time, Y/N, I don’t have rabies!”

“That’s exactly what a person with rabies would say.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And I hate you.”

“Ditto.”

You and Yoongi work as you always do: in perfect tandem but complete silence. Part of the reason that the wizard you work for hasn’t fired either of you yet is because, despite how absolutely morbidly you get along, you work fine as long as you don’t talk. The wizard likes it that way anyway.

He hired the both of you about two years ago; you, for your wonderful knack for magic and Yoongi for his healing abilities as a shapeshifter. The perfect duo to run an all-needs magic shop.

It’s too bad you hate each other, though.

The wizard, Seokjin, comes down from his lot, shaking his head at the two of you as he watches you work. “Still nothing, huh?” he asks with a laugh. “You’d think you’d get along better after so much time together.”

“Maybe we would if she weren’t such a―”

“I will literally give you fleas,” you cut him off, causing Seokjin to roll his eyes in exasperation.

“You know, part of what makes a good magician is being able to work with other people,” he says as he begins shuffling through the day’s schedule. “It’s important, especially if you’re gonna be a healer.”

“I have good people skills,” Yoongi huffs. “It’s this one who doesn’t.”

“It’s only when I’m around you,” you reply without so much as looking up from your pot. You turn to Seokjin, changing the subject. “I brewed the first potion of the day already,” you say, gesturing to your work. “The customer will be here to pick it up in about twenty minutes. I can get working on the next one if you want.”

Seokjin nods in approval. “Good work. Looks perfect. But I think I’ll do the next. You get started on the three o’clock appointment.”

“Sure thing.”

“And Yoongi,” he says, turning his attention to the man as he fiddles with his burnt shirt, “I’m pretty sure there’s a unicorn coming in later. Take care of that, would you?”

“You got it, Boss.”

Seokjin throws him a thumbs up, fixing his shirt in the process, before giving a few final instructions and vanishing into the air. You return to your work in silence, humming what is, to Yoongi’s ears, incoherent gibberish. It makes his ears ring, though magic spells always seem to have that kind of effect on his much-too-sensitive senses. Your hands wave in a defined yet random way over the cauldron until it turns the perfect shade of glass blue. Despite the annoyed rumbling deep in his chest that comes from being near you, Yoongi can’t help deny that you always look your best when you’re working. Maybe it’s because you’re not talking either.

Where you deal with the potions and the spells and magic items (seriously, why do talking cloaks even exist?), Yoongi specializes in magical nature, whether it be plants or animals or that really weird growth on a person’s skin that they swear is whispering stupid pick-up lines to them when they’re trying to fall asleep. He pokes around the greenhouse, checking in on his new batch of nightshade and making sure to give the silver orchids extra water. He whistles while he works, and a few of the live-in fairies come to pay him a visit from their gardens.

“How are you, Yoongi?” asks one delicately, fluttering in front of his face.

He smiles at the creature, her wings sparkling in the sunlight but so paper-thin that they’re nearly invisible, and says, “Better now that you’re here,” and the little fairy zips away in shyness. Another fairy appears, opting to sit on Yoongi’s shoulder as the shapeshifter makes his way towards the back of the greenhouse.

“How’s your coworker?” he asks.

Yoongi grunts in response, the thing in his chest growling in annoyance. “Always the worst.”

“Eh, I like her.”

“Still don’t understand why.”

“She’s cool! You should get to know her. I think you guys would make good friends.”

The other fair reappears, taking her place on Yoongi’s opposite shoulder. “Doubt it! Yoongi is nice! Y/N is not!”

“Oh, you’re just biased ‘cause he paid you a nice compliment!”

“I can pay you a compliment too, if you’d like, Novus,” Yoongi says with a soft laugh, and the small creature is blushing, angry at having been so easily charmed.

“Whatever,” the fairy scoffs. “Y/N is a good witch. You’re just angry.”

“And you’re not?” cries his female counterpart. “I don’t understand why you defend her. She doesn’t even come in here.”

“That’s cause this big ol’ shifter here won’t let her. How do you think she gets her spell ingredients?”

Yoongi jumps a little in realization. “So you’re the one that’s been taking from my supplies!”

“It’s not taking if it’s from my own home!”

“I guess,” chuckles Yoongi, really not caring but glad to have solved that mystery. “We’re not gonna be friends, though, Novus.”

“I think you two have more in common than you think?”

“Like what?”

“Well―”

“They don’t have anything!”

“Stay out of this, West!” The grouchy fairy continues. “You’re both here to help people, for starters.”

“So we have one career interest. Doesn’t make her more appealing.”

“I know you both like music.”

“Everybody likes music!”

“And you’re magical.”

“Everybody is magical, Novus!” laughs an exasperated Yoongi. “Look, let me just go water the shrooms and then I’ll leave you two alone, okay?”

“No, no, please take West with you. She never shuts up about you.”

“Novus!” West exclaimes, embarrassed and scandalized. “Be quiet.”

Yoongi only shakes his head, ignoring the bickering fairies that stay perched on his shoulders. A few gnomes come to greet him, but they’re quick to leave, annoyed by the chattering of the winged creatures. After Yoongi attends to the shrooms (during which the damned things wouldn’t shut up about how he and you were destined for life, claiming they could see into his soul), he retreats from the greenhouse and back into the real world.

He finds you in the shop, busily attending five different customers, and he already knows he’s going to get hell for this as soon as they’re done. “Hello, how can I help you?” he asks, rushing down the wooden steps. The customer glares at you before returning a friendly grin to Yoongi.

“Finally some service around here! I need to pick up an order. Heat suppressants for a young hybrid.”

“Sure thing,” Yoongi says, moving to the counter. “Name?”

“Lee Daesong.”

“Got it.”

Yoongi turns around, shuffling through the wooden cabinets behind him. He pulls out a small sack where the name “Lee Daesong” is printed in fine, gold ink. Yoongi hands it the man and he returns a smile and a handful of gold pieces.

“Thanks. Have a good day.”

“You too. Come back soon.”

Yoongi watches as you help an old witch with a spell before escorting her out of the shop, and you close the door with an exasperated sigh, whipping around to face your co-worker. He’s expecting you to yell, but instead he’s greeted with cold silence. You seethe instead, sitting down at your workstation and ignoring him entirely.

He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “Not even gonna talk to me now?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Y/N,” the shifter whines, standing in front of your desk. “For fucks sake, we work together!”

“Unfortunately.”

“C’mon, really?”

You look up, staring him in the eye as your finger flicks the air, turning the pages of the book for you. “You left me to deal with five angry customers all on my own, and Seokjin is probably gonna hear about it and have my head!”

“Look, I’ll vouch, okay? My fault.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, “as if. We all know he loves you.”

“Loves me? You’re his prodigy student!” Yoongi exclaims, and he can feel his blood beginning to heat up.

You stand up, glaring at him. “Whatever. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yeah. Whatever,” Yoongi retorts before stomping off. You hear the distinct slam of the greenhouse door, and you sit back down in a huff.

It’s not like Yoongi is a bad person. He’s a great person. Hell, he’s perfect. And maybe that’s what pissed you off so much about him.

You liked him when you first met him. You might’ve even harbored a small crush on him. But after years of being groomed as the “prodigy student,” the girl destined for greatness, it irked you to find someone so good at magic―and so easily praised by your idol. Working for the Wizard Seokjin is a dream come true, but he never seems to have time for you. He might give you a passive nod after a potion well-done, but all Yoongi needs to do is smile at him and all of a sudden he’s getting cakes and cookies and a new plant to take care of.

Quite simply, you hated that. So you hated him.

The only good thing that came out of meeting Yoongi was the fact that you push yourself to be the best you can be every single day. You practice your magic into long, dark hours, ignoring the pulse of your head after so many spells. Magic flows from your fingers with incredible ease, and everywhere but the shop, at least, you are praised for it. At least something was worth it.

As the sun finally set to reveal a shimmering night sky, Yoongi flips the shop’s sign to “closed,” and you both begin packing up for the evening. Seokjin returns, his arms stuffed to the brim of all kinds of wacky looking plants and contraptions. Yoongi rushes to help him, ending up with a hoard of stuff that piled high and obscured his vision.

You crack a smile until Yoongi says, “I can feel your happiness. Stop it.”

Seokjin sets down his bags before taking the load off, one by one, and ratting off each thing’s use. “This one,” he says, holding up a clear jar with red fluid sloshing around in it, “is siren’s blood. Straight from the Seventh Sea. Pretty isn’t it? See the way it glitters?”

“Gross,” Yoongi says, his nose scrunching in distaste. “I can smell it through the jar.”

“What’s it for?” you ask.

“Really good for curses,” Seokjin replies as he stashes it away. “It’s pretty potent stuff. Good for enemies.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“It’s not to be used on innocent shapeshifters!” Yoongi pipes up, not liking the idea of you having access to such a thing.

“You act as if I would hurt you―”

Both Seokjin and Yoongi interrupt you with a sharp look.

“―on purpose! You didn’t let me finish!”

“The ‘innocent shapeshifter’ is right, Y/N. No curses.” Yoongi smiles triumphantly until the wizard says, “And you’re not allowed to use it to make yourself into some terrifying, super animal, okay?”

“Wait, I can do that?”

“Don’t give him ideas!” you shout.

“Enough, enough,” Seokjin says with a dismissive wave of his hands. “Gods, you two really don’t know when to cut it out, do you? No matter. I’ll see you both bright and early in the morning! Now get out. I can’t stand the sound of you two arguing.”

You and Yoongi give him a sheepish grin and utter your goodbyes before exiting the shop. The streets have a wispy, yellow glow to them, courtesy of the streetlights. You see a few pixies flying near the rooftops, dancing to a tune that you can’t hear.

“Gonna stand there the entire night?” asks Yoongi from behind you, ruining the serenity of the moment.

“Not as long as you’re here,” you reply cooly. You step away from him, turning to head home. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Don’t be afraid to call in sick.”

“And make your day? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Yoongi watches you go, shaking his head in irritation. You hear the sound of him morphing, but when you turn around, his figure is long gone. You shrug, continuing down the quiet street on your own. You pass stores and boutiques, markets and taverns before arriving at a cozy cafe on the street’s corner.

The bell on the door jingles as you push your way in, and a fluffy, two-headed puppy bounds its way up to you. You squat down in excitement, cooing and petting the dog until a shadow appear over you.

“I swear he likes you more than me. One day he’s just gonna leave with you.”

“If that’s the case I can consider my life a successful one. Hi, Taehyung.”

“Dork,” he says with a cheesy grin, pulling you into a hug. “How was work?”

“Terrible.”

“Yoongi?”

“Hate that guy.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes and laughs, walking back towards the counter, his cloak flowing behind him. “He’s a good guy,” he says as he turns on the latte machine. “I don’t know what you have against him.”

You groan. “Can everyone stop telling me he’s such a great guy? I’m over it!”

“Well, he is. Sorry.”

“Taehyungie,” you whine. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. Take my side for once!”

“As your best friend it is my legal obligation to tell you when you should shut the fuck up and make friends with the guy.”

You huff, sitting in a chair with Cosmo comfortably seated in your lap. “That’s it. Cosmo is my new best friend.”

“Fine. Yoongi is mine.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Taehyung shrugs, bringing back a latte for you and a juice for himself. “I’ve known him forever. He’s a good friend.”

“Better than me?”

“No,” Taehyung snorts, “you both are terrible. Always complaining about each other and never doing anything about it.”

Cosmo hops off of your lap to snuggle up next to his owner. Taehyung alternates between heads, scratching them both behind the ears.

“Oh, he talks about me?”

“Don’t let it inflate your ego. He’s just telling me about what a bad person you are. You two seriously need to think about couple’s therapy. It’s been two years.”

“Taehyung―”

“Look, Y/N, in all seriousness, I love you both. Sure, I’ve known you longer, but I’d be lying if I said Yoongi wasn’t a good friend.” He pauses to sip his drink. “But if you both are going into the same career, which is, keep in mind, healing, then you need to learn to work with people you don’t like.”

“Yeah, but Yoongi is―”

“Is a person that you’re spending a lot of time with, like it or not. Might as well make the most of the situation.”

You slump in your chair, suddenly feeling very childish. You love Taehyung, but you hate how he’s always right. He’s too damn smart. “I knew I should’ve talked to Hoseok today.”

“Really?” Taehyung laughs. “The man’s a sadist! He’d be giving you the worst advice possible.”

“Well, maybe that’s what I need.”

“Oh, fuck off, Y/N. C’mon. Try it my way first. Then, if it really, really sucks, you can go talk to the witchdoctor and see what he has to say.”

“Fine, fine. But only because I love you.”

“Mmhmm, I love you, too. Now go. Namjoon’s coming to pick me up.”

“Oh?” you say as you stand. “How’s that going?”

“Would probably go better if you weren’t here when he showed up!” he exclaims as he about shoves you out the door.

“Okay, okay, okay! Bye, Taehyung.”

“Bye, Y/N. Let me know how it goes tomorrow, okay?”

“Will do. Can I take Cosmo with me?”

“Not a chance.”

“Fucker.”

Against Taehyung’s wishes, you show up at Hoseok’s door anyway, and he greets you with a mischievous smile. “Can I do something for you, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “I need a curse.”

―

You take a deep breath before entering the shop, trying to swallow the last of your pride. Taehyung is right, you know it. You just need to be the bigger person.

You climb the steps, and the door opens with a soft creak. Yoongi is already there, humming quietly as he organizes his plants. There’s a fairy napping on his shoulder, but she flies out of sight as soon as she hears you.

Yoongi looks up, expecting a snide remark, but he’s pleasantly surprised when all you say is, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.”

“Do anything fun last night?” you ask as you rifle through the papers that Seokjin has left at your desk.

“I―uh, yeah. Visited some friends.”

“Cool, me too.” You sit down, your eyebrows scrunched in concentration as you take in the information before you. Most of the papers are written in Ancient Draconian, and you can’t for the life of you remember what the squiggly symbol means.

“Hey, uh,” Yoongi interrupts you, waving a hand in front of your face.

You look up in confusion, not expecting to see him standing so close. “Yeah? What?”

“Are you okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just… acting really nice, is all.”

Your cheeks flush and you look back down, averting his gaze. “I just figure that we should be nicer to each other is all.”

Yoongi chuckles and shakes his head. Taehyung. He points to the squiggly symbol on the paper. “Mix thoroughly.”

You pause, not quite registering that Min Yoongi just willingly helped you. “Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

He turns around, going back to work. The fairy from before is now hiding in his hair, eyeing you suspiciously. “She’s up to something,” West whispers just loud enough for Yoongi to hear.

“Don’t be so cynical.”

The two of you are doing your own thing in silence until Seokjin pops into the shop with a loud whap. He stops immediately, watching as the two of you work peacefully. “Did someone die?”

“Nope. Just trying something new.”

Seokjin narrows his eyes, glancing feverishly between the two of you. “It’s weird. I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like us getting along?” you ask.

“What can I say? I must’ve gotten used to two years worth of unnecessary yelling.” The two of you say nothing as he begins his ascent up the stairs. Halfway up, he halts before saying, “You’re not fucking, are you?”

“W-What!”

“No!”

Seokjin puts his hands up in defense. “Sorry, sorry. Felt like I had to ask.” And with that, he disappears.

The air is thick with uncomfortable tension until someone walks in, and you both breathe in relief. It’s an attractive young man, dressed in a suit of fine, red silk and a black robe. He fiddles with his watch before turning his attention towards you.

“I’m here to pick up a potion.”

“O-Oh, yes. Sorry. Uh, name?”

“Jeon Jungkook. Can I also pick up a few ingredients while I’m here?”

“Sure. Yoongi can help you with that.”

Yoongi hops beside you, giving the visitor a gracious smile. “What are you looking for today, Sir?”

“Mm, a few things. Fairy wings, golden nightshade, black shrooms, and a couple of unicorn tears.”

“Sure,” Yoongi says with a nod. “The fairy wings and unicorn tears are here, and if you prefer, you can pick out the nightshade and shrooms yourself.”

“I would like that very much, yes.”

“Follow me then.”

Yoongi leads Jungkook to the greenhouse, and the two of them walk in silence until Jungkook says, “So how long have you and Y/N been together?”

Yoongi stops, eyes wide. “I―uh. What? We’re not… How do you know her name?”

“Oh, my bad,” Jungkook says with a small laugh. “Sometimes it’s hard to tell the future from the present.”

“What?”

“I’m a seer. Sorry if that wasn’t clear. I can see people as they are now and who they’re going to become. Trying to work on seeing people in the past, but that’s a bit tricky. Everybody’s hidden themselves away.”

“So,” Yoongi says as he leads them towards the field of nightshade, “you’re telling me that we… me and Y/N… we become a couple?”

“Should I not have said anything?”

“No I just… We hate each other.”

“Hate? Doesn’t seem like it.”

“What are you talking about? There’s not a single day that she and I have ever gotten along.”

Jungkook smiles and sticks his hands in his pockets. Yoongi thinks he looks infuriatingly calm. “She envies you. You admire her. Your ‘hate’ is just a miscommunication. Plus your souls are practically yearning to be together. I thought it was obvious.”

They stop at the nightshade garden, and Jungkook begins picking his way through them, leaving a dumbfounded Yoongi to process this information alone. “So we’re… soulmates?” Yoongi asks quietly as Jungkook picks his plant.

“Yep,” the seer says quite nonchalantly. “But beyond that it’s kind of blurry. Not sure why.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I don’t know. It’s blurry. What more do you want me to say?”

“I’m not a mage. I don’t know what ‘blurry’ means.”

“It means I can’t see. I can see images. I see you two together. But beyond that it’s all very hazy. It’s blurry.”

“Sounds like a lot of projection to me,” Yoongi replies as he leads the young seer to the shroom patch. “Did Taehyung put you up to this?”

“Oh, you know Taehyung? I love that guy! His dog is super cute too.”

“He did, didn’t he?”

Jungkook laughs again. “Certainly not. Taehyung takes orders. Doesn’t give ‘em,” he says with a smirk.

Yoongi cringes. He did not need to know that. “Here are the shrooms. The black ones are back there.”

Jungkook nods, careful not to tread on any. “Shrooms can see into your soul too, can’t they? What do they say?”

Yoongi knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to give this guy the smug satisfaction of being right. “I don’t know.”

“Hm, maybe I’m wrong then.” He steps back onto the main path and Yoongi begins to lead them back into the shop. “But I’m probably not. Thanks for the stuff. How much will that be?”

“That’s forty-six gold,” you interject from your place at the counter.

“Perfect. I’ll see you two love-birds around, yeah? Have a good day.”

You watch him exit with wide eyes before turning to Yoongi. “Uh…”

“Don’t ask. Guy’s crazy.”

―

At some point, you’re not really sure when, you realize that you don’t actually have to try to be nice to Yoongi. You can just do it. Maybe he’s not all bad.

He still irritates you, though.

“So I hear you two are getting along now, huh?” Taehyung says from across the table.

Hoseok, who had been slurping at his food noisily, stops and looks up. “Yoongi?”

“Yeah. We are. Doesn’t make him less annoying though.”

“How’s that curse going?”

“No need for your curses, Hoseok,” Taehyung replies with a shake of his head.

Hoseok shrugs. “Too late. Already done.”

Taehyung looks at the both of you in shock. “You did what?” he screams.

“Relax,” he says around a mouthful of food. “It’s nothing bad. Just take away something he loves.”

“Hoseok!”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anyone. The thing he loves most right now is an old record player.”

“Or,” Taehyung interjects, “you could, I don’t know, not.”

“Ah, you’re no fun.” He turns his attention back to you. “So tell me more about this Yoongi character. Y’all gonna fuck?”

Taehyung’s face turns at his crass statement, and you slap his arm. “We will not! He’s a friend.” The words were out of your mouth before you could think about it, and Taehyung’s face is absolutely glowing.

“He’s a friend! Oh my gods I have to go tell the whole world.”

“Please, don’t. I hate you.”

“It’s okay. You love Yoongi.”

“Wow, can’t believe she’s all grown-up. Boyfriend and everything,” Hoseok laughs.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you shout defensively.

“Yeah, yeah. So I hear he’s a pretty powerful shapeshifter, right? Super young too.”

“Yeah,” says Taehyung. “He’s got a pretty impressive streak. And you hear the rumors about his family? They say that Min shapeshifters can become magical entities.”

“Aren’t they already magical entities themselves?”

“No, no, like demons. Angels. Unicorns. Mermaids. Dragons.”  

“What? No way. And a healer too, huh? Sounds like you two are perfect together, Y/N.”

“We’re not―”

“Oh no,” Taehyung says, “they’re soulmates.”

“Can you both please―”

“I knew it.”

“Stop it!” you bark, causing them both to stop and look at you. “Nothing is happening! He’s a friend, okay? Yes. That’s it. Now, my break is over, so I need to get back to work. I’ll talk to you guys later, okay?”

“Yeah, alright. See you.”

You shake your head, laughing to yourself as you make your way back to the shop. When the door opens, you’re afraid to find yourself suddenly pinned to the floor and face-to-face with a very mean looking wolf. Your body is frozen in panic, and for a second you forget any magic you had ever learned.

But then the wolf turns into a man, and you’re faced with one happy looking Min Yoongi. “That’s for being late,” he says as he climbs off you before extending you a hand.

You take it, and apparently Yoongi is stronger than you think because he pulls you right up, and now you’re face-to-face with his chest instead. Wow.

“Jerk,” you murmur before pulling away, the slightest tint to your cheeks.

“Aw, don’t be mad. You set my shirt on fire when I was late, remember?”

“Oh, right―”

“And then you said I had rabies.”

You cringe, preferring not to remember the more unsavory aspects of your behavior towards him. “Right. I know. I deserved that. I’m sorry.”

Yoongi laughs, his cheeks crinkling to accommodate his big smile. “Wow, I can’t believe I got an apology out of you.”

“That’s the only one you’ll ever get,” you say with a smile.

The day goes by easily; you spent most of it poured over your books. Seokjin left plenty of things for you to decrypt, most of them being lost spells. Where he acquired them you were afraid to ask.

“It’s closing time,” Yoongi says, appearing beside you. You look up, surprised to see that the world is dark beyond the shop’s windows.

“Oh. I didn’t even notice.”

“You’re too wrapped up in… what is this? Elvish?”

You giggle. “Nope. Mermaidian. Can you believe it?”

“I thought their spells were lost in the sinking of Atlantis.”

You thought so too, but apparently not. “Don’t know,” you say with a shrug. “And I’m not about to ask Seokjin. He does enough sketchy activity on his own.”

“You might have a point. C’mon. I’ll clean if you file.”

“Aw, what a gentleman.”

The cabinet complains loudly as you nudge it open, filing away the day’s receipts. Yoongi swipes up any stray dirt and waters his plants one last time. Your mind is preoccupied with the spells, though, and you’re running through the motions in your head. As soon as you’re finished, you’re back at your desk, trying to comprehend its instructions. You don’t notice Yoongi leaning on the broom, watching you intensely. The way you run your fingers through your hair, or the way your hair keeps falling out from behind your ears. The way you get a slight flush to your cheeks when you’ve made a breakthrough, or the adorable way you whisper as you talk yourself through it.

It’s when you smile to yourself and the thing in Yoongi’s chest damn near purrs that he drops the broom he’s leaning on and almost falls because, well, when did he catch feelings for you?

You perk up, alerted by the noise. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice shaking slightly. “Scared myself is all. I think I’m tired.”

You nod. “Go home.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. What about you?” he asks as he grabs his bag.

“I’ll close up. Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Yoongi departs and you throw yourself back into your work, the solitary atmosphere something of second nature to you. You read the words of the script outloud, the hand motions coming to you naturally, and glittery, golden water fills up your hands. The fairy Novus, who likes to come and watch you sometimes, gives you a cheer, and you file the spell away, moving on to the next.

This one is a bit harder, and you laugh a bit to yourself because, hey, this one is in Elvish. It takes a couple tries (and a lot of frustrated murmuring) before you’re able to get it; thorny vines erupt from shimmering green sigils on the ground, whipping around dangerously like they’re looking for an enemy to strike. You quickly reverse your actions, the sigils vanishing into thin air and taking the vines along with it.

“Old Elvish battle spell,” you say to Novus as you file it away. “Good for enemies.”

“What about this one?” He flies down to your desk, picking a spell written on burn parchment. The writing shimmers, but there’s something deeply unsettling about it. You shrug and pick it up.

“Not sure. Looks Draconian, but it’s not.”

Novus hovers over it for a second before looking up at you in realization. “Oh! It’s an old spell from the Blood Age! It’s like a combination of Draconian and Vampiric.”

“Hmm, sounds utterly terrifying.” You smile. “I’m gonna try it.”

“Do you need help reading it?”

“Yeah, do you mind?”

Novus shakes his head, sitting atop your shoulder as he helps you recite the words. When you’ve learned it fully, Novus steps back and watches the magic happen.

―

Yoongi is halfway through his flight home when he feels it. The thing in his chest growls, twists and turns and he abruptly drops in altitude, suddenly feeling very wrong. It doesn’t take him long to realize that something’s happened to you, and he’s darting back towards the shop within seconds.

There’s an eerie red light emanating from the shop when he gets there, and when he knocks on the door, he gets no answer. “Y/N?” he shouts. “It’s me. Are you okay?”

No answer. The Thing urges him forward, begging him to just kick down the damn door.

So he does.

The door opens to reveal you, eyes closed as you cry out, your feet chained down by restraints that wind up from a terrifying, red portal. Yoongi takes a step towards you before he’s pushed roughly back by a small, purple light.

“Don’t touch it!” Novus shouts. “It’s bad magic! Bad magic!”

“What? What happened? We need to get her out of there!”

“No, no, no,” the fairy cries, zipping around the shop in a panic. “Bad magic, it’s bad magic…”

Yoongi turns to you, and the Thing shouts as he watches you scream in pain, your eyes opening for a split second to land on him before closing again. He doesn’t know what to do. All he knows is that you’re hurting and something is trying to take you from him and oh, gods, why does his chest hurt so bad?

He doubles over in pain, and his head starts to feel fuzzy, like he’s falling asleep. The Thing roars, and he blacks out.

When he wakes up, he’s in his apartment. He does not remember getting there. He also does not know why you’re cradled in his arms, nor does he know why he physically can’t bring himself to let you go. But most importantly, why are the two of you on the hard-fucking-floor?

Yoongi lifts you gently and brings you into his room. He tucks you underneath the covers before tucking you under him, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he pulls you tightly to his chest. He breathes in your scent before drifting off again, his mind hazy.

―

You wake with a start, the previous night’s events rushing back to you at once. You remember Novus. You remember the language. You remember the words. You remember watching as your hands conjured a portal straight from Hell, and you watched as the Devil’s Ropes ensnared your feet, then your legs and hands. You remember a voice, a deep, ugly voice whispering your darkest fears in your ears. You remember blinding pain, coursing through your body as if in your very blood. But most important you remember Yoongi. He was there. He transformed into something terrible, something you never though capable, and he closed the portal himself.

And as everything came back to you, your body shook, and tears fell from your face. You bury your head in the pillow, afraid that when you open your eyes you would see it all again.

But when you do open your eyes again it’s to a soft-smiling Yoongi, gently rubbing the tears off your cheeks. “Don’t worry,” he says, “You’re safe with me.”

You hesitate, all of a sudden unsure of how to act, before rolling into him, body pressed right against his as you cry. He holds you close, stroking you lightly and whispering reassurances until your body stops trembling.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his chest. “Thank you for saving me.”

He leans down and kisses your head, an act that doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you. “What would I do without my favorite coworker?”

You sit up abruptly. “Work! Seokjin’s gonna kill me! I’m―”

“Come here,” he says, grabbing you by the hand and putting you back on the bed. “You’re taking a day off. I’ll tell him what happened.”

“But Yoongi―”

“Good luck trying to argue with me,” he laughs. “I’ll send Taehyung over to check on you, okay?”

You nod, sinking back down into the bed. “Okay.”

―

“I can’t believe it! He’s your prince charming!”

“Shut up, Tae. So he saved me from a demonic portal. Big deal.”

“Gods, you’re dense.”

“What are you talking about?” you groan.

“Okay, tell me, how did Yoongi know to come back for you?”

“Uh, I don’t know, lucky guess?”

“You know, as smart as you are, you can be pretty stupid.”

“Hey!”

“Shapeshifters have what can only be described as a thing in their chest, right? The source of all their powers?”

“Yeah, yeah. This is common knowledge, Tae.”

“Well the Thing is alert to danger when something they care strongly for is in trouble.”

“Okay…?”

“Holy fuck, you’re slow! He cares about you! And a hell of a lot too if his Thing thinks you’re that important.”

“What, so, it thinks I’m like his mate?”

“I mean, weird way to put it, but yeah. Pretty much.”

You lean back, your soup long forgotten. “Woah.”

“Now the question is, how do you feel about him?”

“I actually… I don’t know. I guess I’ve never thought about it.”

“Well, get thinking about it. ‘Cause the truth is out there for him at least. I know you like to hide yourself from people, Y/N,” Taehyung says, standing to clean up. “But do yourself a favor, okay? Don’t hide from him.”

Taehyung leaves you confused and irritated in Yoongi’s apartment, and there’s not much for you to do except pace back and forth impatiently.

“How do I feel about Yoongi?” you said aloud. “Hell if I know!” You flick your fingers in agitation, sparks flying from them every so often. Okay, yes, he’s good looking. Really good looking, but who’s paying attention? He’s got a heart of gold; you’ve seen it firsthand.

But that doesn’t mean you like him, right?

Sure, he can be equal parts infuriating and equal parts endearing. And, sure, the way that little kids and magical creatures alike flock to him is the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, and yes, he has the cutest smile, and wow you wish you weren’t so stupid because you’ve obviously liked him for a while now. Maybe you even loved him. At this point, who knew? Certainly not you.

You flop down on his couch in defeat. You really should’ve seen that coming from a mile away. At least Taehyung did.

The door rattles and keys jingle from the other side of it, and you realize that the sun had set long ago. You sit up, looking a bit frazzled as Yoongi walks in, and he looks just as startled, not really expecting you to pop up like that.

“What’s up?” he asks with a laugh, placing his keys on the counter.

“Not much. Thanks for sending Taehyung over by the way. How was work? Was Seokjin mad? Is he going to fire me?”

“Relax,” he says as he comes to sit next to you. “He felt really bad, actually. He never meant to put that spell in your stack.”

“Oh.”

Yoongi looks at you with a sweet, sincere smile, and suddenly it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time. His pretty, pale skin. The way his hair falls over his head. His deep, thoughtful eyes.

“Something wrong?” he asks, pulling you out of your trance.

“Um. No. Actually. Okay, wow, I just…”

Don’t hide from him.

“I wanna tell you something.”

“Why doesn’t that sound good?”

“No, no, it’s good!” You pause. “I hope.”

“You’re making me nervous.”

“Okay, okay.” You take a deep breath. Taehyung’s words replaying in your mind.

Don’t hide from him.

“I… think I like you.”

Yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you think he’s about to reject you, and you swear you’re going to murder Kim Taehyung until he says, “That’s a relief.” He inches closer to you, and suddenly you’re very aware of your proximity. “Because I think I like you, too.”

Overwhelmed with the incredible urge to kiss the man in front of you, you only hesitate for a second before your lips are on his, and suddenly everything feels right in the world.

You can’t explain it; maybe it’s magic. Something is dancing through you, lifting you up and making your heart race. It’s something to do with Yoongi, you know, but beyond that you can’t tell. All you really care about is the fact that his lips are so soft and you wish you had done this sooner.

Yoongi’s hand slides to your waist and pulls you onto his lap, desperate to have you as close as possible. The thing in his chest is fucking ecstatic, having waited too long. Yoongi bites down gently on your bottom lip, and your mouth opens to let out a small gasp, a sound he quickly swallows back down. His hands are digging roughly into your sides, itching to go farther but afraid to make the first move. You’re wrapped around his neck, stroking the sensitive skin there.

You depart from his lips, evoking a quiet, needy sound from him as you move across his cheek and down his jaw before reaching his neck. You nip the skin, and Yoongi can’t help but grind up into you. It occurs to you that Min Yoongi is hard underneath you, and you’re doing no better, and you grind down into him, eliciting the sweetest of sounds from him.

“Y/N… we can… we can stop.”

“I don’t want to.”

“A-Are you sure.”

You pause to look up at him and nod eagerly. “I’m sure.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold back,” he says, and the look in your eyes tells you that he’s telling the truth.

You lean in close and whisper, “I don’t want you to.”

He growls, wrapping you around his waist as he stands and carries you into the bedroom. He hardly hesitates, stripping his clothes off before ripping off your own. His eyes drink you in, loving the sight of you flushed and spread out before him, and he’s barely begun. He takes your mouth back in his before leaving kisses across your body, making sure to take pleasured time at your nipples.

He pinches one, rolling it between his fingers as he licks and laps at the other, not ever really wanting to stop because the sounds you make are oh, so pretty. But if it’s sounds he wants then it’s sounds he gets as a stray finger finds its place at your folds, flicking at your clit.

You arch your back, yelling out Yoongi’s name, and he hums in satisfaction. “That’s it, pretty girl. Say my name.”

“Y-Yoongi,” you moan as he descends, wanting to taste you for himself.

“You’re so wet for me already. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Please, Yoongi,” you whimper, already so pathetically fucked out for him.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

Yoongi sticks his tongue out quickly, just to see your reaction, but it’s hard to tease you when you’re pushing so hard on his head. You yank on his hair, and he gives you a slap on the leg that says, “Behave.”

You squirm under him as he finally puts his mouth on you, tongue working wonders. He easily slips two fingers inside you and you cry out, the sensation nothing but bliss. He licks at you roughly and fucks you on his fingers, loving the way you twist and turn beneath him.

“You taste so good, baby,” he says before returning back to your dripping center.

“Fuck, fuck, Yoongi,” you murmur as he nibbles at your clit. “Don’t stop.”

“You’re not in charge here, baby,” he says before standing up and giving your pussy a slap. You yelp, gripping tightly to the bedsheets. Yoongi’s face is coated in your juices, and he’s never looked happier. “Come here,” he commands.

You obey, though at first you have trouble, your legs shaking from denied pleasure. “Why don’t you get me ready for you?” You take a hold of his cock, already leaking precum and just begging to be sucked, but as you lean in towards him, he grabs a hold of your hair and says, “Nah, uh, baby. I’m gonna give everything I have to that sweet pussy of yours.”

You nod, not able to find a voice for yourself. You pump him gently, and he closes his eyes and relishes the feeling. You pick up your pace and his mouth drops open, face scrunched in concentration as he tries not to cum in your hand right then and there.

Eventually he’s had enough, and he says, “Lay back, babe.”

Your back hits the mattress without a second though, eager to finally have him inside of you. Yoongi laughs, stopping to kiss you gently. He massages your thighs a couple of times before looking deep into your eyes. He doesn’t have to say anything to ask, “Is this okay?”

You give him a small nod, telling him to go ahead. He chases your lips one last time before lining himself up at your entrance.

“Please, Yoongi,” you plead.

He doesn’t respond, but looks at you through lidded eyes, his body awash with lust. “I’ll try to hold back.” He pushes his way in, and the both of you have your heads thrown back in groans of pleasure.

“D-Don’t,” you pant, struggling to find your voice. “Don’t hold back.”

“Baby…”

You grab his arm in urgency, the only thing on your mind the desperate urge to be fucked. “Please!”

Yoongi nods, withdrawing from you carefully before slamming back into you. The force has him slipping out of you, so he respositions himself and holds you close before entering you again. His grip is tight, and you can do nothing but sit there and take it.

Yoongi fucks into you with abandon, pouring everything from the last two years into his thrusts. Hate. Anger. Jealousy. Friendship. Happiness. Adoration.

He’s losing his goddamn mind inside you, and you’re no better.

Something’s alight inside of you, a fine sheen of sweat coating your body, but it’s nothing compared to the feelings raging inside you. You want this to last forever. “Yoongi,” you say, your mind dizzy with lust, “look at me.”

Yoongi does, a hand on your waist coming to trap your wrists above your head, and he stares right into your soul as he fucks the life out of you. You lean up to kiss him, though it’s more or less just tongue on tongue. The room is nothing but the sound of sex, and you can feel your orgasm approaching.

It starts in your toes, climbing its way up your body until you’re shivering. It starts to coil, centering in your stomach.”Y-Yoongi… Fuck… I’m gonna―fuck―I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, babe. Me too. Just wait. Just wait.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Touch me, please.”

Yoongi’s hand darts to your clit, feverishly working the sensitive bud. Your nails dig into his back, the sensation becoming too much.

“Cum with me, babe,” he says, and that’s all it takes for the two of you to come undone together.

You open your mouth in a scream, and Yoongi sticks two fingers in. You bob your head on them as if you were sucking his cock, muffling the sounds of your orgasm.

Finally the two of you come down, heaving as you collapse back onto the bed. You can feel the cum dripping out of you, but you really don’t give a damn. Everything just feels too good.

“Y/N?” Yoongi says through heavy breathing.

“Hm?” you answer sleepily.

“I think I lied earlier. When I said I liked you.”

“What?”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

―

And you fall in love right back, and Seokjin is so sick of seeing the two of you cuddle at work that he is actually contemplating firing you both.

“I think I liked it better when you guys always argued,” Seokjin grumbles as he rifles through paperwork. Yoongi only grins, stealing a kiss from you on his way to the greenhouse. “Yuck. Definitely liked it better when you guys always argued.”

“Bite me,” you laugh, sticking your tongue out in defiance.

“That’s my job!” Yoongi calls from the other side of the shop, and Seokjin groans in disgust. You scratch at your hand as you continue to work; the annoying itch set in about two weeks ago and still hasn’t gone away. Seokjin takes notice, and grabs it to inspect.

“Still there, huh?”

“Yeah. Not sure what it is.”

“Get bit?”

“I don’t see a bite mark.”

“I can put a salve on it.”

“Yeah, please.”

Yoongi’s traipsing through the water lily garden when he hears Seokjin shout, “Yah! Get some blue shrooms for your girlfriend! I’m doing a thing!”

“Sounds sketch!” he shouts back but does as he’s told. The shroom patch is extra chatty today, much to his chagrin, and they’re all eager to get a word in. He does a pretty good job at ignoring them until a cursed shroom speaks up. They only have one; it’s good for enemies, as Seokjin says, and it’s an ugly, little thing. It’s green and brown and speaks with venom in its voice.

Yoongi is expecting some vicious jibe or harsh remark, but instead the shroom just says, simply, “What do you love most?”

Yoongi hesitates. “What?”

“You heard me.” The shroom repeats itself. “What, in your life, do you love most?”

It sounds like a harmless question, so Yoongi answers, “Y/N, of course.”

“Of course,” the shroom says, and its mouth morphs into a horrible grin as a shrill scream pierces the air. Yoongi looks up in a panic, knowing full well that that’s you.

“What did you do?” Yoongi shrieks, the thing in his chest bubbling in fear and anger.

“Nothing that wasn’t already done.”

Yoongi rips the shroom out of the ground and throws it onto the floor before running as fast as he can. His human legs, he decides, aren’t fast enough and he’s at your side in the form of a big, black wolf. He morphs back into a human and holds you in his arms, searching to Seokjin for answers.

“What the fuck happened?” he asks, panic rising in his chest.

Seokjin looks just as alarmed. “I don’t know! She was just standing here! And then something happened, I don’t know, and now there’s a mark on her hand!”

“A mark? What mark?” He turns to look down at you and finds you sobbing, clutching desperately at your left hand. His heart aches to see you that way, and the Thing isn’t too happy about it either. “Baby,” he says, “let me see your hand.”

“I c-can’t,” you sob. “H-Hurts, Yoongi, it hurts!”

“Let me see. We can make it go away.”

With coaxing from both Yoongi and Seokjin, you’re able to release your hand long enough to show them the source of your pain. A large ‘X’ is embedded in your skin, written in an odd mix of gold glitter and your own blood.

Seokjin frowns, a look that does not put Yoongi at ease, and says, “Let’s put her to sleep for a bit. Then we can try and discern what’s wrong.”

Yoongi doesn’t have nearly half a second to protest when Seokjin is already casting the spell, and you fall limp in Yoongi’s arms. At least you’re not crying anymore. Yoongi carries you upstairs at Seokjin’s behest and lays you on his bed.

“What the hell is that?” he asks the wizard who’s pacing nervously around the room. He doesn’t get an answer when two figures zap into the room.

“Got your message,” Taehyung says, rushing to your side. “What happened?”

“Maybe you can tell me,” Seokjin replies, anger lacing his voice.

“What? Are you trying to imply I had something to do with it?”

“No. But your friend here might.”

Hoseok looks up in shock. “Okay, I am a lot of things but never, never would I hurt Y/N.”

“Look at her hand,” Seokjin says simply, and the color drains from Hoseok’s face.

“What? But I…”

Then he notices Yoongi standing there, and everything clicks into place. He storms at him, grabbing the shapeshifter and thrusting him against the wall.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi growls, ready to tear him limb from limb.

“What did you do?” Hoseok hisses, and Yoongi can only stare at him dumbfounded.

“What did I do? What did you do?”

“What did you do right before this happened? Right before the mark appeared?” Hoseok pressed.

“I… I don’t know! I was having a conversation with a dumb shroom, is all!”

“You idiot! Shrooms can see into the future!”

“So?”

“Gods, you activated the curse!”

“What curse?”

“Ah, the curse, the curse…” Hoseok mumbles, letting Yoongi down.

Taehyung approaches his friend, and he looks quite calm, so Yoongi isn’t expecting him to slap him so hard across the face.

“Motherfucker,” he fumes. “I told you. I told you. Look what you’ve done!”

“She came to me!”

“And all you had to do was say no! It’s easy! One word! N-O!”

“Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on here?” Yoongi bellows over the chaos, his voice reverberating enough to shake the room. Yoongi notices that Seokjin is crying, Taehyung’s eyes are glassy, and Hoseok looks like he’s about to collapse; he’s not so sure he wants to know anymore.

“You tell him,” Taehyung whispers. “You tell him.”

“I… I’m sorry… The curse… You can’t go back…”

“W-What?”

“It’s the Devil’s Trade,” Seokjin says, his voice rough. Yoongi has never heard him sound so wrecked. “Take away the thing your enemy loves most.” Yoongi sucks in a breath. “And you shall have the ultimate revenge.”

“At the time of the curse, you loved a record player the most. She was supposed to ask you about. She was supposed to ask you the question. But then she wanted to be nice to you and started being friends, and I guess she forgot.”

“So you’re…” Yoongi stumbles backwards. He can’t breathe. “She’s gonna… I’m…”

“I’m sorry,” Hoseok mumbles again. “She’s gonna die.”

Yoongi doesn’t even realize he’s crying until he can’t see anymore. All he can see is your broken figure, barely heaving a breathe in Seokjin’s bed. Yoongi does what he does best: he runs. He runs right out of the shop and right into the sky.

Yoongi can feel the wind rushing under him; it tugs on his wings like the hand that tugs at his heart. He hates this. Hates that all of a sudden he has no control, his life seemingly flailing like a flag in the wind.

The worst thing, however, has to be the fact that all he can remember is you.

The thing in his chest tells him to go be with you, to be by your side, but he can’t bear to see you like that. He wants to see you laugh and smile and dance with him. He wants to see you waking up next to him. He wants to see you when he comes home.

But he knows it’s not an option. He needs to be strong for you. 

He lands again, and stares at the building where he knows you’re sleeping. He takes a deep breath and steps inside the magic shop, exchanging his fears for a positive attitude.

[ofsinnersandsaints]

where do you run, chp. 2

AO3

Takes place during episode 71, where instead of Vex and Percy kissing while Keyleth replenished the ground, they have sex the night they defeat Vorugal which is unfortunate for Grog who, in this timeline, shares a wall with Vex.

For bed sharing reasons.

Grog stared at the wall and finally gave up on the sounds coming from next door stopping anytime soon.

When Scanlan made this mansion it would have made sense to give it soundproof walls, but nope, Grog could all too easily hear what was going on next door.

He left his room, glaring at Vex’s bedroom door as he passed it, and wound his way down the hallway to Keyleth’s door. When he knocked, he heard her say come in without even asking who it was.

She was sitting on her floor with books and glass jars surrounding her when he came in. There was a weird urge to lock the door when he shut it but he ignored it, putting his hands on his hips instead. “I’m here to cash in my favor.”

She looked up at him, a confused and distracted expression on her face. “I owe you a favor?”

He nodded and sat down on her bed. It wasn’t as big as his, but it would do for the night. “Yeah, remember the time you barged into my room in the middle of the night and then hogged the bed?”

“I think I remember something about that. It was yesterday, wasn’t it?” Keyleth smiled, shaking her head as she went back to whatever druid project she was working on, “Why? You hoping to hog my bed?”

“Vex is having sex in her room,” he told her dryly. “I don’t feel like listening to it.”

Her brows furrowed in a way which would have been adorable if he thought about her like that. Which he didn’t. “Who is she having sex with?”

“I assume Percy, but maybe gnomes are more her type.”

“And they’re being…loud?”

“She’s being loud, Percy I assume is laying back and thinking of Emon.” Keyleth laughed loudly at the joke, hiccupping as she brought her hand to her mouth and he considered it a personal victory to bring out that sudden burst of joy, especially considering how tough the day had been. “What are you doing?”

“Making healing potions,” she answered, laughter still in her voice as she held up one of the corked vials which had the same coloring as the stuff he routinely poured down all their throats. Not Keyleth though, he suddenly realized with a surprise. He couldn’t remember ever needing to save her. “Pike went down while we were fighting Vorugal, and if we’d all had healing potions we could have brought her back a little bit sooner, and maybe a little stronger.”

She was thinking of Pike, and there were fewer things which hit him closer to the heart than that. He was at a loss for words and cleared his throat, his eyes catching on her new prize. “Guess your fancy new stick doesn’t do everything.”

Keyleth followed his gaze to where the weird piece of wood was propped up in the corner. It was a twisty piece of magic and even he could feel the power emanating from it. “It doesn’t heal, just does damage,” she said, her mouth twisting in a kind of grimace as she looked at him. “Or at least it’s supposed to.”

Grog couldn’t help the grin, realizing his suspicions had been right. Down in the practice pit he’d pretended her earth elemental had injured him, and the bop she’d given him on his forehead had hurt, but she’d obviously realized the truth. They shared an easy smile, comradery and humor flashing between them. “The lightning was pretty vicious, those dummies didn’t know what hit them.”

“We’ll see how it does in a real combat,” she evaded. “Thanks, by the way.”

Grog looked down at her, and belatedly realized she must have taken a bath at some point.

When he’d seen in her in the foyer, with bits of dragon spread out at her feet, she’d been covered in blood up to her elbows. Once glance at most folk would take in their group and think he was the gruesome, violent one, but they vastly underestimated the pretty druid who would happily eviscerate a creature and then dissect it.

But now her skin was scrubbed clean enough he could count the freckles on her face, if he could count that high. Her hair was still a little damp at the ends and there was a clean smell filling his nostrils; the battered leather armor replaced by something dark green and soft.

“Thanks for what?”

“For the Spire.” Her smile was a little crooked as she got up, putting her hand on his knee to give herself leverage. He’d seen her create lightning, seen her pull it down from the sky to hurt the enemy, but this was the first time he believed she had it under her skin.

There was no other explanation for the sharp and electric sizzle from her skin touching his.

She sat next to him while he tried to find his balance. “You basically took on the Yenk all by yourself. If it hadn’t been for you tearing him in half, I might not have a Vestige.”

“I had to fight him,” Grog pointed out, still grumpy about how most of the fight had gone. “That fucker of a dragon kept flying off and I couldn’t get to him. You can turn into air and punch him-her?-in the face. I’m stuck on the ground.”

“But there’s a downside to magic, even with my spire,” she pointed out. “I can only use so much and then I’m depleted, but you? You can hit as many times as you want and nothing can stop you.”

“Unless, of course, I’m fighting something that can fly,” he argued.

“That’s why we’re a team,” she reminded him, bumping his shoulder with hers. “I’ll hit what’s far away and you can finish it off once I bring it down.”

It was pretty good plan and made him feel a little better. “Team badass.”

“Team badass,” she repeated with a grin. “And I haven’t forgotten you promised to teach me how to fight.”

Grog snorted. “I did, and as soon as we get a minute when we’re not actively running for our lives we’ll do just that.”

“Fair enough,” she conceded and they just… sat like that. Quiet and comfortable, hips nearly touching, for a full minute until she sighed.

“Well, I still have an hour left before I’m done with the potions,” but she didn’t sound excited about it. “You’re more than welcome to sleep, if you want. I just have to finish this batch or it goes bad.”

“I don’t mind staying up,” he assured her. “As long as you don’t moan while you do it.”

She turned to look at him, mischief in her eyes as she tried not to smile. “Oh, didn’t you know? That’s step three.”

“Very funny.”

Keyleth grinned, proud of her little joke, and slid back down to the floor to settle near his feet. She started grabbing ingredients and bringing them closer to her as she spoke. “You can’t blame them for it, can you? Vex and Percy, I mean. After everything we’ve been through the past couple of months, I get why they’re doing the now-or-never thing.”

“I enjoy a good now-or-never myself, but I at least have the decency to do it out of the house.”

“I’ve always said you were the most selfless one of the group.” She shifted on the ground, tucking one leg beneath her and stretching out her other leg, the nightshirt barely covered her thighs and he could see a couple of scars decorating her skin.

He tried to remember where she got them, but they’d been in so many fights it was hard to keep track.

“When we get back to civilization you can now-or-never all you want,” she was saying as she added some of the herbs to her metal bowl.  Grog shrugged, uninterested in the prospect and not willing to wonder why.

“Heck, before all is said and done I might now-or-never. I want to at least once before we go up against Thordak.”

It took him a moment to understand what she was saying, and he wished he could see her face but she was staring down at her book. “Say again?”

Keyleth pushed her hair over her shoulder and shrugged, “I’m just saying if I’m going to die, I’d like to understand what the fuss about sex is before I go.”

“Don’t go to a bawdy house,” he advised her.

“Why,” she looked at him with a challenge in her eyes. “And if you say anything along the lines of my being too good-“

“No,” he interrupted, confused by her sudden flash of anger. “Who the fuck said that?”

Her green eyes narrowed at him for a moment before she let out a breath on a frustrated huff. “It doesn’t matter.”

Someone had obviously pissed her off and he’d ask her about it, but she said it didn’t matter, and he had to trust her on that. If someone needed their ass kicked, she could handle it. “I just meant, don’t find some rando because you don’t know if they’re going to be any good. If you’re going to die, the worse way to do it is after bad sex.”

“Duly noted.”

“Now that that’s settled, where are your boots?”

“I don’t know,” she went back to her potions. “I think I threw them over by the bed, why?”

Because she was clean and smelled good and they were talking about sex; he fucking needed something to do with his hands. “When we were trying to get the skin into the bag of holding you tripped.”

“I did?” she glanced up at him. “I don’t remember that.”

“It was your boots,” he told her, and got up to find them. “I figure while you’re making sure we don’t die, I’ll make sure you don’t trip in battle and make a fool of yourself.”

“Thanks,” and she sounded sincere about it. “I always forget you can do that.”

He looked at her, boots in his hand. “Do what?”

“Make things,” she answered as she lit one of her fingers on fire and held it up to the metal bowl. “It’s impressive.”

“You’re literally making life saving potions and lighting yourself on fire.”

Her eyes met his, “Yeah? And? There are a dozen people in my tribe alone who can do this. You’re the only person I know who can make boots.”

“You need to get out more,” he grumbled, searching in the bag of holding for his tools.

“You’re not wrong.”

Grog sat on the ground a few feet away from her and together they worked in silence for the rest of the hour. He was able to fix the broken sole easily enough, but there were a few holes on the sides, and the thread was kind of loose in spots, so he did what he could to patch them up.

She’d need a new pair sooner rather than later though.

“Done,” she announced and he looked up in time to see her rolling her neck and shoulders and when that little gesture got him going he knew he was in a world trouble.

It had just been a while, he told himself, a few months without a woman would do this to any red-blooded male. The fact he hadn’t once thought about biting Vex’s neck, and hearing her have sex right door had caused him irritation instead of arousal, didn’t mean anything.

Next to him, completely oblivious to his internal struggle, Keyleth stared at the mess on the floor. “Screw it, I’ll clean it up in the morning. Are you ready to sleep?”

There was a flash of leg as she stood up and he didn’t trust himself to say anything more than, “Yep.”

Grog got up and headed straight for the bed; when he’d been a kid he’d slept and lived in his clothes. It wasn’t until he’d moved in Pike and Wilhand that he learned some people slept in nothing, or next to, but he could never quite get to that point. If he anything happened, he wanted to be ready, so he wore his pants to bed and usually kept his axe under his pillow.

But nothing could get to them in Scanlan’s mansion so he’d left his weapons in his room, and had walked barefoot to Keyleth’s. The only thing he still wore were his pants.

“Are you okay with the lights off?”

“I can sleep in a hailstorm, Keyleth. It don’t matter to me.”

“I wish I was like that,” she complained, and the room went dark. He didn’t have the belt on so he couldn’t see anything but he could hear her footsteps, the movement of the blankets being pulled back, and the added heat of her body when she settled a few inches away from him. “It always takes me an hour to get to sleep after lying down and if it’s too quiet or too loud I can’t sleep at all.”

Grog was surprised by the complaint because he remembered the night before, he’d gotten into bed and within a few minutes he’d heard her breath even out. He’d been paying close attention, worried she’d have a nightmare or something, but she’d slept soundly until he’d gotten up in the morning.

“Uh, I have an idea.”

“Okay?”

The bed wasn’t big, so it was an easy enough thing to reach out and find her arm, and she was a wisp of a thing so he just pulled her across the mattress towards him. “You know, when you asked me not to jump you yesterday, I kind of figured the agreement was a mutual.”

“Keyleth,” he started, his words clear, if a little sharp. “If I jump you, it’ll be with the lights on.”

“Oh.”

“After Pike died,” the words caught, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest. It would always be a hard thing to remember, how he’d lost her and almost hadn’t gotten her back. Grog cleared his throat and tried again for casual, “She had trouble sleeping when it was too quiet, she said it reminded her of the black, so she’d sleep on my chest and listen to my heart. It helped.”

Keyleth cleared her throat and while she was still stiff as a board next to him she didn’t pull away or try to wiggle back to her side of the bed. After a second, which he figured she used to talk herself in and out of it, she pressed against his side.

Grog sighed because she wasn’t breathing. “You’re making this weird, Keyleth.”

He heard her snort but she relaxed a bit against him. “I don’t know why you expected me to be anything else but awkward.”

“You can do this,” he deadpanned. “I believe in you.”

She huffed out a laugh and moved next to him. This was a really fucking bad idea on his part, but he’d seen the proof of her sleepless nights and it was only smart to make sure they were all ready to fight at a moment’s notice.

Yeah, he told himself dryly as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, sharing a bed with the druid, her head on his chest, was definitely for the greater good.

“G’night, Keyleth.”

She murmured her good night, her breath warm against his chest as her body slowly molded itself around him.

He could feel her body relaxing, muscle by muscle. The whole point had been to help her, but having her next so close calmed him too. Settled him.

Her breathing slowed along with his heart beats and he was half way to sleep himself when her arm moved against his side and then drape over his stomach.

There was only one conclusion to come to as his heart stumbled inside his chest: He was fucked.

[transfemmbeatrice]

1-6 and 13 for the d&d asks?

1. a favorite character you’ve played?    i answered this on the other one but i’m using this as an excuse to talk about another one of my PCs: Ash. i originally made Ash for my first campaign, which then sputtered out, so i slightly reskinned her for a campaign i’m in now because i missed her! She’s an old lady tiefling bard who casts spells by invoking the power of old stories (folk tales, legends, myths, etc) rather than playing an instrument because she only plays obnoxious instruments, and very poorly. she’s an academic and her curiosity and lack of self preservation instincts get her in trouble because she wants to learn everything about the monster instead of running away or fighting it. she’s stubborn and full of love and i stan my lesbian grandma

2. Your favorite character that someone else has played     man this is hard. the first one who comes to mind is Krita, a tiefling rogue in a still-running campaign thats the longest i’ve ever been a part of (so i love all the party members because they’ve had the most time to develop). Krita was raised by monkeys, can’t read, doesn’t have great social skills, and i ADORE her. 

3. Your favorite side quest     in the motw game i gm i made the one player buy a bomb for his dark master which involved dealing with a slimy black market weapons dealer and switching out evidence in the police station and it was great. but some of the future side quests i have for that group are even better.      OH and one time during a downtime session my character wanted to get fantasy weed and that was a WHOLE thing that was great.

4. Your current campaign     i’m playing in 2 active campaigns right now. one is a hell continent (jungles, full of things that want to kill you, has resisted being settled, only one city has managed to stay livable) on the verge of an apocalyptic event that happens cyclically when the old gods break loose from their chains and fuck shit up. and also the emperor of the old world is on his way? we’re still figuring out wtf is going on and how it all works but its a fantastic world!      the other is a sea-faring adventure, which hasn’t been going on for as long so the arc of the campaign isn’t totally clear yet but we’re sailing the Deepsea, an area that resists being mapped and is full of mysterious magic. there’s very little record of what lies here so! lots of sea and island shenanigans are to be had! it’s been a ton of fun so far!

5. favorite npc    this is SO hard....but there’s a recurring npc in my one campaign named Podge, who travels around with his minotaur buddy selling/trading random and often magical objects. he’s grumpy and funny and seems to always know more than he should and he’s GREAT.

6. favorite death    hmmm..... its hard to think of but there was the time we were sent to save a logging camp from a werewolf and ended up burning everything down and killing all but maybe one person? that was bad but also extremely funny and very telling of our competence level.

13. introduce your current party      im in 2 campaigns so first, the smaller party, in deepsea:      Ash, the tiefling bard      Malefic, the dragonborn paladin, just joined the campaign because he washed up on an island and has no idea what is going on        Talath, the tiefling warlock, who is VERY good boy, immediately started referring to Ash as his grandmother, which she went along with, to the point that the GM thought our characters were canonically related even though they’d just met       the other party, Rendithia:       Gnimble, the [redacted] monk (my pc, race is a mystery to the rest of the party because they wear a plague doctor outfit at all times and have never shown their face or body). They look terrifying but are very gentle and kind but also lethal if you threaten someone they care about.         Krita, the tiefling rogue.         Fineas, the nervous gnome wizard who just wants to go home but is now on this wild quest to the most dangerous parts of the continent          Balasina, the dragonborn bard, has lots of costumes she switches between including a bear costume and a nun costume, casts spells by telling bad dad jokes, force of chaos           Gideon, a skeleton artificer? alchemist? he does potions and fire and stuff, does not know how or why he was resurrected, just wants to Rest but also has to do the Right Thing           Viertree, the dark elf warlock, has a mysterious dark past but is really just a giant fucking nerd doing his best            and also Gris, the kobold rogue, who will come back....eventually.

[thecryingcryptid]

Hey ive been following you for a while and im not sure if its just my bad memory,but I haven't really seen a post about your ocs? They sound really fun from what I can tell from the tags of that last post. Id love to know more about them?Hope Im not bothering you! 🌟

not at all! yeah idk i have a couple sideblogs for them (but it’s more of a what their tumblr would look like not so much things specifically about them if you get what i mean). you precious monarch butterfly have some lil quick bios bout my top 3 girls

Reywynn Nightstar | D&D | rogue + warlock | Queer Table Universe

- Chaotic neutral/good moon elf who is an arcane trickster. She has ginger hair and one green eye, she lost the other eye to a cursed beholder eye charm thing. She is hella chaotic and loves lame jokes and pulling pranks. She is also hella pansexual and is drawn to lovers who are fun and know how to have a good time. She worked for a rogue organization in the Feywild traveling the wilderness to ruins and shit (and sometimes cities) to...reclaim items of arcane and cultural value. On one mission she tripped a plane shift trap and was sent to the Material Plane. She is not educated on inter-planar travel so she had no fuckin clue how to get back, she just kinda travelled around Faerun taking up odd thieving jobs until she teamed up with the group to work a bigger job with more pay.  She is the SMOLEST bean (next to our gnome ranger) at 5ft tall. FUN FACT: that was 100% not her original height but when the DM asked me how tall she was at like level 6 I realized I had not written it down anywhere so randomly rolled for it right then and there. Rey is a smol rage bean with the lamest sense of humor AND I LOVE HER. She has also written a romance novel based on the group’s adventures! It’s not like the penny smut novels she favors but more of a dramatic love epic. I have not actually written out the novel, and probably never will, but I DO have a basic plot outline written if anyone ever wants to see it (you won’t understand how the plot relates to in-game events but it still might be interesting).

Likes: bad jokes, smut novels, and stabby things

Amaris | D&D | wizard | (future) Empire universe

- Neutral good tiefling with moonstone skin and black antlers. 6ft tall with wavy silver hair and bright purple eyes against black scleras.  She is probably my bean with the saddest backstory. Her father travels as a fortune teller, though he was more interested in using his good looks and mystic background to seduce women (especially wealthy women). On one such occasion his affair with a local landowner’s human wife resulted in a child that was very obviously not her husband’s. For whatever reason, maybe he really did care for her, he agreed to raise Amaris and keep her away from the anger of the husband. That being said, he was NOT a good father. It was very obvious from a young age that Amaris had a talent for learning magic that he did not, and he greatly exploited that to make his life easier and help him make more money as they travelled. He was very emotionally and verbally abusive and it wasn’t until her mid 20s that she gained the courage to run away from him. She left with some fancy arcane armor she was supposed to be making for him, but now it helps keep her safe as she explores the world on her own terms. She also has the mystic background, but to her father’s annoyance, she doesn’t flatter patrons and tell them what they want to hear instead choosing to give the blunt truth. Sometime in her teens they were close to the town where her mother lived and she went to try and see her, but was discovered by the husband and was chased down and attacked with scythes/sickles. Her back now has a thick scar from the base of her skull all the way down her spine. 

She HAS made a cameo in the Queer Table universe as an npc and is married to a nice (and hot) water genasi smuggler and they have a daughter. In that universe she also has a half-brother, Rexes, who is a Monster Hunter ranger.

Likes: books on arcane theory and astronomy, cinnamon rolls, and lavender

Nalaia | D&D | druid | (current) Empire universe

- Neutral/chaotic annoyed 6ft tiefling with green and peachy skin and short-ish horns (think typical devil horns). Long ass denim/blue hair that really needs cut (it’s almost to her knees) and is grumpy AFFFFFFF. Her mother died shortly after giving birth to her so her father raised her himself in the underdark. He was also a druid and took a lot of joy in helping her develop her abilities. When she was about 17-18 he died of a fever and urged her to explore the above world and all nature had to offer there. She set out and ended up staying at a smallish town and falling in love with townmaster. Lots of backstory plot I haven’t FULLY worked out but the townmaster pressured her into focusing more on healing magic and only growing crops the town needed BUT THEN some shit was happening in the forest and despite Nalaia’s pleading the townmaster had the forest burnt down. Being fucking distraught and betrayed by people she thought cared about her she ran off to The Mist Moors and lived as a hermit in a secluded cabin in the swamp. Occasionally people would find their way there if they needed potions or something and sometimes she would help, if only to get them to leave her alone. She couldn’t stay secluded in the swamp though after ALL the dragons rose from the dead AND ATE THE SUN. So now she travels with some cool people to help restore the sun and save The World Roots which are responsible for all the growth of nature. She still generally does NOT like society as an organized concept and gets really uncomfortable and clingy to the paladin when they have to be in whatever post apocalyptic towns they come across. She is (at this point in her life/adventure) very likely to choose nature over people.

Likes: moss, walking barefoot through the mud, banjo music

[fluffyglass]

THE MR. GRUMPY PLEASE STOP THREATENING MR. TICKLE'S LIFE MASTERPOST

I have lost all sense of reality

Season 1

Mr. Grumpy appears in 39 episodes of Season 2.

In 7 of these episodes does he do something wrong.

Season 2

Mr. Grumpy appears in 44 episodes of Season 2.

In 8 of these episodes does he do something wrong.

Conclusions

Mr. Grumpy does something wrong in 15 out of the 83 episodes he appears in, which is 18%. Counting my 10 unsures bumps him up to 25/83, which is 30%.

Mr. Grumpy is a super weird character to rank, as he's justifiably annoyed by pretty much everyone around him; this, however, makes me feel bad to consider him an asshole in any episode because he's beaten down by the world until he snaps. So, take everything I say here with a grain of salt.

The one thing I'll always count against him though is if he ever threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm because believe me he does that A LOT

Yellow - Mr. Grumpy does nothing wrong

Red - Mr. Grumpy does something wrong

Pink - idk lol

SEASON 1

Flying - Just doing his job

Music - he's just kinda there lmao

Physical - man nobody even DOES anything in the early episodes

Farm - He gets so hilariously close to saying fuck in this episode its ridiculous. Anyways he's a dick to everyone trying to help him

Lake - barely there

Beach - BIRDS STOLE HSI FUCKING SAMWICH SMH

Mall - what the fuck even was that segment

Birthday - I actually had to watch pretty much the entire episode for this one. He just wants to chill on his own the entire time and everyone else just . does not listen. Please just let him vibe

Boats - barely in it

Superstore - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Books - just sellin his book don't mind him

Camping - he just. cannot eat outside in peace

Science - fuck you Miss Daredevil

Fish - Blames Mr. Bump for splashing when he is . fucking dying

Paint - what the fuck even just happened. I guess he ran over Mr. Bump but it was presumably unintentional and. nsbdANSDMADF WHY ARE THEY CUBED

Construction - He was barely in it and then got fucking mauled at the end

Jobs - yep he sure is there I guess

Trains - Yeah he once again sure is there

Hobbies - he's kinda mean to Mr. Scatterbrain but he's Mr. Scatterbrain so

Fair - this show is so stupid

Dance - It's justifiable that he'd complain about the noise but like. Dude. It's a dance studio. Why am I defending Mr. Noisy again

Amusement Park - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm, then tickles him after he said he was gonna be sick :(

Adventure - almost dies

Dillydale Day - he's barely in it and all he does is insult the performance

Games - y'know how I said this show was stupid? This is another example of that but in a good way

Hotel - I had to watch this one twice cause I have no fucking idea what to do with it. Like. He's kind of a dick to everyone and barely does his actual job but like. r., what the fcl./??????? also he pushes Mr. Tickle over at some point yeah I'm counting this one

Chores - he's just chillin and then dies

Snow - this segment is fucking hilarious but that's just cause Stubborn's in it lmao anyways he's fine ig

Wildlife - just kinda there

Restaurants - this show is so stupid . again

Gardens - oh how I hate this fucking episode - forced myself to rewatch it, he doesnt do SHIT WRONG AND THESE FUCKERSSADASKDKJDFJKJKADFJKSCVCDVDJKLFKLF IM SO FUCKIGN MAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cars - Miss Sunshine is nothing but courteous the entire time and Mr. Grumpy does nothing but fucking complain is this the reckoning we get after the disaster that is Gardens

Ships - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Cooking - Roasts the shit out of Miss Naughty but she deserved it so it's okay

Collecting - just kinda there

Sleep - Yeahhhhh uhhh he kinda sent Mr. Strong to his "death" and didn't really. give a shit. soooooooooo oh yeah also hes kinda just mean to everyone the entire time hes just a dick

Carwash - he's trying his best also GAY ICON EPISODE

Sightseeing - yeah

The Dark - yeah again

SEASON 2

Picnics - he's just kinda there

Outer Space - again he's just kinda there

Clean Teeth - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Airports - He's kinda just trying to stop Mr. Stubborn from committing a copious amount of crimes

Shoes - quits a performance right in the middle for no fucking reason ?

Arts and Crafts - he's just trying his best

Game Shows - just kinda there

Garages - this show is so stupid

Toys - this show is still so stupid also Mr. Nervous said among us and I screamed

Reptiles - isn't this just Cars again? but this time he's slightly more of an asshole considering he tries to get Miss Sunshine to ignore Mr. Lazy. The only good part of this bit is Martin

Hats - Tried to get Mr. Happy to ignore the other hat contest contestants so he could win, but he does share his prize at the end, so idk man

Robots - I have absolutely no fucking clue

Up and Down - bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Dining Out - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Gifts - just kinda there

Sun and Moon - yep

Telephone - the whole fucking dillydale invaded his house wtf!!

Washing & Drying - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Sneezes & Hiccups - If I had a nickel for every Mr. Grumpy segment that was only funny because Mr. Stubborn was in it I'd have six nickels. I could buy a soda with that if it was 50 years ago

Fruit - Managed to be bribed with . fruit

Radio - bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb

Supermarket - i fucking hate this show I dont care enough to rewatch this one

Skyscrapers - HE STOLE MR SCATTERBRAIN'S SANDWICH SMH

Cinema - I'm so tired

Getting Around - I am still tired

Clocks - this episode is ass

Post Office - I am still, in fact, tired

Dance, Dance, Dance - I'm not tired anymore this episode bangs

Library - HE BARELY EVEN DOES ANYTHING

Pirates - I'm tired again

Goo - Threatens Mr. Tickle with bodily harm

Trains & Planes - I am going to fall asleep

Out to Sea - I am asleep. also he ignores Mr. Quiet the entire time and doesn't acknowledge Miss Scary pretty much saving his life but hhhhhhhhhhhhhhbnbnvnvbb i am too tired to care at this point

Next Door - still asleep

Lunch - zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Machines - this isn't as painfully boring as Mr. Happy was but it's pretty close

Fairies and Gnomes - NEVERMIND I FUCKING LOVE THIS EPISODE

Home Improvement - asleep again

Bath and Bubbles - still asleep

Sand and Surf - I am up to 8 nickels at this point

Parks - Mr. Grumpy is so much more boring than I rememebred AND YEP THREATENED MR TICKLE WITH BODILY HARM

Surprises - I refuse to watch this episode again

Travel - THREATENED MR TICKLE WITH BODILY HARM AGAIN

Bad Weather - and I am now once again asleep