okay i'm brainstorming for my grillby x reader fic and. hear me out.
slightly jealous grillby.
not like terribly possessive or anything like he's not jealous when reader's spending time with their friends and laughing when he's not involved (he loves listening to reader laugh across the library) (this is totally not me coping with knowing i laugh probably way too loudly and way too often at work) but like when patrons occasionally flirt with reader he's all. >:(. don't like that one bit >:(.
people shouldn't be flirting with reader on the job, that's not respectful of their time! obviously! (he wants to flirt with them on the job so so so badly he's a fucking hypocrite teehee)
like we need SOME kind of personality flaw for this man or he's gonna be too angelic and perfect!!!! and then i will run out of things to write because he's just too good forever!!!!!!!
Alec went very still, half-smile frozen on his face as his cheeks colored to match it. Magnus couldn’t tie down a satisfied grin, sticking his tongue out. “If you want to give me that stem, though, I’ll show you a neat trick.”
“You cannot,” Alec accused immediately, tugging the fruit free with his teeth as he spoke.
“Oh, my dear,” Magnus replied, catching his tongue piercing on his front teeth teasingly, not missing a single opportunity to draw Alec’s thoughts back to his bedroom. “Don’t you remember all the things I can do with my tongue?”
Alec bit his lip through a nervous smile, swallowing. “I thought so, but…” He held the cherry stem out, and Magnus took it. “Maybe I need a refresher.”
---
this chapter is unabashedly horny on main and no i will not fucking apologize it's finals week and i'm stressed and my only relief right now is writing friends with benefits shit okay-
---
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
if you feel like it: human tony sees his boyfriend vampire bucky fight and hurt people for the first time (bad guys i presume). Angst and h/c? Bucky may worry if tony still wants him after he sees how dangerous he is?
Thank you for the prompt! I had fun with this one, and I had to try to not to turn this into a whole series! (Not saying that that won’t happen in the future!)
(There are so many different lores to Vampires, but one of my favorites has been Kim Harrison’s. Where basically there are two types of Vamps, living and dead, being a Vamp is having a virus, and then there’s a society in each of those; those that are that born with the virus, and that that are given the virus from an undead Vamp. Living can walk in the sun, Undead can’t. Thank you and have an enjoyable read. :) )
//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\//\\
It was one of those rare dates, one where they actually got to get out of the Tower. No work, no call outs, no world ending event to pull their attention away. And there were only a few gawkers watching them, wanting to ask for an autograph, but usually there was something with them that stopped them. Honestly, without how well their lunch date was going, Tony wouldn’t have minded just a couple of fans coming up to them. Bucky had a soft smile on face, flesh hand wrapped around his cup of coffee, watching Tony finish his dessert.
Not even Jarvis had interrupted them with Stark Industries work. It was probably the most successful spontaneous date they’d been on since he and Bucky Barnes had started dating just four short months ago.
Tony couldn’t believe the luck they had getting Bucky to this point. After the awful event that happened at the UN conference last year, Steve had called Tony, vehement about his belief that it wasn’t Bucky that had set off the bomb. Tony believed him, Steve Rogers had used That voice, and Tony had to at least look into it. Sometimes Tony tries to imagine what would have happened if he hadn’t of looked into it, or if Steve hadn’t of called him up. They were able to sweep him away before Ross could make anymore trouble for them, and he set Jarvis to trying to look into how to break conditioning, while he and Steve tried to stop Ross from throwing their other teammates in jail.
In the end the three of them had accepted help from the new King of Wakanda, T’Challa, and Tony felt like a kid in candyland when T’Challa brought some of Wakanda’s tech to Tony’s lab to help James Barnes.
Oddly enough, Bucky and Tony ended up bonding over his tearful confession of being ordered to kill his parents. As the memories came rushing back to him, Bucky found Tony in the middle of the night, and begged for forgiveness. Now, they were going out into public, even kissing in public.
Tony had never felt luckier, smiling a little as he finished his last bite of tira-misu, feeling the metal hand on his knee. He was in the middle of waggling his eyebrows, very suggestively of course, when he noticed Bucky looking behind him. He frowned a little and as he started to turn his head, the table they were at was suddenly flying up. Tony felt himself leaving his seat, then felt an arm wrapping around his waist and bringing him down.
Time sped back up and he heard screaming around him and then everyone was moving. Bucky had grabbed him and was hunched over him, growling. A type of growl that Tony had never heard before, and he glanced up. He blinked. Bucky seemed…. Different. He swore that his blues eyes were icier than normal, and, glowing? He seemed deadlier, a different Aura than what the Winter Soldier held, but somehow the same. Tony couldn’t put his finger on it, and it was really starting to bother him.
That’s when Tony’s brain caught up with him and he realized that they were being attacked. He looked at his wrist, tapping the watch and pulling up on the make-shift gauntlet to wrap around his hand. Bucky was watching those moving behind them, and Tony looked the other way and he saw two others moving slowly, with an unnatural grace. Stalking their prey. He dared to glance behind him and he saw three others moving the same way. He couldn’t tell if they were looking at him or Bucky, but they were enemies, and that’s all he needed to know.
Suddenly, Bucky wasn’t above him and Tony was moving himself. The two that he had seen were moving towards him. Since Bucky wasn’t in front of them anymore they had decided that Tony was the perfect target. He was going to show them how that so wasn’t true.
His hand went up and the first concussive blast caught them by surprise, making them stumble back a little. The hand that was holding his wrist pressed in a very exact place and the gauntlet amped up the blast, and suddenly the concussive wave had a little bit of a bite to it, and the two men were putting their hands over their ears. They growled again at him, hissing, and Tony frowned seeing over-extended canines. One of the men lunged and he lifted his hand a little, letting out another shot that sent him onto his back on the ground, but the other man had taken the advantage and was tackling Tony to the ground.
He grunted and the man pressed Tony down on the ground, stomach on the cement. One hand pressed a little harder and Tony winced when he felt the gauntlet on his hand bend in, pressing into his skin. He felt it short out, heat against his palm and he hissed in pain. Then Tony froze. Hot breath was on his neck. Tony couldn’t help but let out a little shout when he felt something sharp on his neck, and then what felt like a mouth, and now he was extremely weirded out.
The weight was ripped off of his back and his good hand flew up to wipe at his neck, sharp pain from the sudden movement. Two streaks of blood came away from his neck onto his hand, and Tony frowned. Rolling over her looked over and saw that it had been Bucky that had removed the man and was crouched over him, metal hand on his neck. They were both growling at each other, and there seemed to be some kind of communication going on. The man that Bucky was leaning over smirked then, and licked his canines. Tony felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine.
Tony let out a surprised cry as he was suddenly hauled up from the ground, one hand pulling both of his arms behind him, strong fingers gripping his wrists together painfully, a second hand holding him up by the jaw. His feet left the ground by centimeters, but it was enough to give him some flashbacks to Loki. Tony gasped as the grip tightened on his jaw, and then he felt the warmth near his neck again, shivering when a tongue lapped at the blood that was welling up.
Bucky glanced back and seemed to growl louder. Now he was positive that Bucky’s eyes were glowing. Bucky’s metal hand flexed then and Tony heard the crack of the mans neck that it had been holding. The man holding him growled and pulled him closer, Tony’s back pressing against the mans front, and he felt the teeth against his skin. Bucky was moving and no one else would have been able to get there fast enough to stop the man from biting Tony, but Bucky had managed it.
Tony was back on his feet, stumbling, looking down to see the man with the broken neck, and saw that his chest had been caved in as well. He took a deep breath, whipping around to look at Bucky and saw him and the man fighting. It looked like watching wild animals, growling, thrashing, using their nails, which left scratches on faces and arms, and shouldn’t have been that sharp. He had seen the Winter Soldier on missions, and this was something he had never seen.
The man was dropping to the ground, blood on his neck, and Bucky was still, head down. Tony took a couple of steps closer and he could see the muscles in his back and shoulders tense. Sirens in the street got their attention, and Bucky glanced back. Tony caught his eyes a second, and Tony thought they looked sad, but he didn’t get to think on it much when Bucky was moving again. If Tony hadn’t of been watching, he wouldn’t have thought it was possible for someone to vanish from a scene so quickly.
Tony’s hand went back up to his neck, which was still bleeding, but not nearly as much. The police had gotten there, a paramedic approaching him before waving him off. Then he saw the SHIELD Agents, and knew that he’d be good to leave. He wanted to get home. Yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky.
He stepped into the Tower, heading for his private elevator and Bucky was waiting for him in the corner. Tony stepped in, pressed the button for his workshop, and let the elevator move. When Bucky stepped closer to look at his neck, Tony reach forward and hit the emergency stop. Bucky seemed to freeze, watching Tony carefully. Tony reached over to Bucky, to his lips, fingers slowly pushing up his top lip. His canines looked normal until Bucky’s nose wrinkled a little, and they started to extend. Tony’s fingers jerked back and Bucky went to take a step back, but Tony’s other hand shot out to grab his wrist. Gently, Tony pushed up his lip again, seeing the different canines now.
Bucky’s hand reached out to brush across his neck, and Tony shivered a little. He felt the growl in Bucky’s chest, the anger, but no directed at him. Bucky was angry that someone had touched what was his.
Tony took a deep breath, and he felt relaxed, more relaxed than he probably should. He wasn’t blind, after Bucky had left Tony had seen the scene. The first three, that Bucky had gone through quickly, were damn near pulled apart. Blood hadn’t painted the concrete, but there had been a viciousness to the carnage. Those monsters had come and attacked them, and Bucky had retaliated. All to keep him safe. And now Bucky was scared, of how Tony would react to seeing all of that.
His fingers let go of Bucky’s lips, and his hand moved to cup Bucky’s cheek. The older man leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. Tony moved into him and kissed his lips, leaning their heads together.
a continuation of grillby headcanons for my library fic!!
-he's a very very well read man. reads often! like way more than you— you love reading and books but don't have as much time to read (published novels) as you used to; library work keeps you busy!! contrary to popular belief, library employees don't actually spend all day reading 😂 fancy that lol
-reads your favorite books. yes, all of them. if he overhears you saying you like it? or liked it once? even when you were little?? it's on his tbr instantly and his tbr is SHORT cause he GETS THROUGH IT!!! he's a little desperate curious to get inside your head and figure you out, monsters LOVE a puzzle it's their whole culture!!!
-absolutely takes advantage of the fact you can't quite tell when he's looking at you to admire you from a distance. loves watching you do book repairs, especially. you put so much care into repairing items!! more than your job requires of you!!
-hopes all the time to hear you whistling; the in-library bookstore he volunteers in is close enough to the front desk to hear you whistling if it's quiet enough in the front of the building. on a VERY lucky day when he's in the staff/volunteer area he might even hear you humming or singing quietly to yourself in the sort machine room 👀
i was unsuccessful in finishing writing chapter 3 tonight BUT i got a lot more done i am so so close to finishing itttttt therefore i feel accomplished anyway :)
have a drabble! botw is creeping back into my blood alongside the midwinter rain
she hates it.
she hates it she hates it she hates it.
what good is the title of "princess" if she can't even leverage it for her own purposes? stuck playing the role of an obedient daughter, a pretty doll. what good is her position if she can't use it to help? to research, to learn, to get her hands dirty, to work with her people— to work for them, as a princess should. duty this, duty that— wasting hours upon hours of her life hip-deep in freezing waters, praying to a goddess who never responds.
she never responds. is she even real?
she must be. her mother heard her voice, after all.
her mother— beautiful, beloved, strong, perfect, powerful, loved. everything that zelda isn't.
a gilded canary in a gilded cage, but the gold flakes away and both her flesh and the bars are so rusted through that it's impossible to believe anybody ever thought her to be golden.
and she hates him. oh, she hates him— she hates his blue eyes, she hates his golden hair; the colors that were supposed to be hers, yet look so much better on him. she hates the way he laughs with the other soldiers. she hates the way that same laugh dies on his lips when he sees her. she hates the way he falls to his knee, she hates his devotion, she hates the way he follows her— exactly three paces behind.
hylia's chosen.
the words taste like bile, the ugly green serpent of envy sinking its teeth into her tongue and pumping her mouth full of venom. green like her eyes— green like her father's eyes.
she hates the color blue. she hates the color gold. they were supposed to be hers.
"how do i get inside? i need to activate it somehow..."
a whinny broke her concentration. she turned, startled out of her reverie.
her expression hardened when she saw her knight approach on horseback. of course it was him. who else would it be? had she really expected anything different?
she couldn't catch a damn break with him around— he always stayed three paces away yet it still felt like he was breathing down her neck, the weight of his eyes a mountain on her shoulders.
was it really so much to ask to be given space? to be allowed to investigate the shrines in peace? she wanted to feel useful, even if it was only in her own mind.
she clutched the sheikah slate in her hands, her fingers tight around the object, and then stowed it safely away.
"i thought i made it clear that i am not in need of an escort," she snapped, stalking forward to meet her knight halfway as he leapt from his saddle. she glared at him, clad in his champion blue— blue like his eyes, blue like the sky. she hated that color.
he did not respond, and she grit her teeth. she hated his silence. "it seems i'm the only one with a mind of my own."
why did she say that? he was only doing what he was told. could he really disobey the king? it wasn't fair to call him mindless.
"i, the person in question, am fine, regardless of the king's orders."
it was a bad cover. she was still being mean. why was she being so mean? her tongue felt like poison, her lips like ice, and every word that escaped her mouth burned her on its way out.
and he just... watched her. why didn't he say anything? why didn't he frown? she was being awful to him.
she doubled down. "return to the castle." it was an order, but not one she expected him to follow. she knew better. "and tell that to my father, please."
she pushed past him, her jaw set and her head held high.
she made it one step,
two steps,
three steps— there it was. the telltale crunch of grass beneath his leather boots, the clank of that damn sword on his back.
the sound shot through her skull like an arrow. that sword was a constant reminder of her failures, of how precious little time she had left— and this boy its chosen wielder. hylia's chosen. she felt the rage, the hurt, the exhaustion, and the envy rear up in her chest, her throat, her head, and she lashed out at him, swinging around like a viper prepared to strike.
"and stop following me!"
she didn't want to yell at him. she just wanted to explore the ruins. she just wanted to help prepare for the calamity in any way she could, to distract herself from her abject failure to unlock her goddess-given magic.
but she was never allowed to help— all she did was hurt.