Did i ever tell y’all the story of how one year my family picked up a hitchhiker in the middle of nowhere (like you do) and just..drove him to my grandma’s house for thanksgiving and he stayed with us for the whole weekend and my grandmere was So concerned that like…he wasn’t getting enough food she made a whole extra pie and pierogies just for him, ofc some to take on the way back. And he just ate with us like the 12+ ppl that consist of my family and dave who we picked up from the road. Now this man had. Nothing on him except his clothes and wallet like no backpack…nothing. so she also gave him some of my grandpa’s clothes and it was a little awkward but he was nice and funny and at the end of the weekend we offered to take him back or anywhere he needed to go (mind you we drove him like…7 hours away from where we picked him up) and he was just like…“nah just drop me off where you found me” and so we did and i never saw or heard from him again and thats how im pretty sure i met an immortal
@ fae side of tumblr please explain what kind of deity i interacted with
I’m pretty sure your family is the fae in this situation
To Hux’s consternation, the goth wannabe outcast with the
giant ears and hippy uncle was the only kid in school, nay, the only person Hux
knew, who can also see Millicent.
@5ovspades I hope you don’t mind me writing a little fic based on your drawing! Your ask box wasn’t open 😦 It turned out a little more angsty then I anticipated
Hux stood a few feet away, staring at the back of the chair. How? How was it possible? Hux had to know. Marching over to the chair, he poked the occupant’s head.
"Hello Armie,“ the black mass greeted without looking.
"My name is Armitage, not Armie,” Hux corrected curtly.
The black mass removed its headphones and the loud, sorrowful music suddenly went silent. It paused a beat before asking, “Yes?”
“Yes what?”
"Yes Armie, what do you want?“
Hux exhaled loudly through his nose. If he wasn’t so desperate for an answer the slight would not have been tolerated.
“How are you able to see her?”
"Who?“
"You know who, Millicent.”
"Millicent?“
“My cat,” Hux hissed.
"You named her Millicent? I would have named her Ghost Cat.“
Hux rolled his eyes. "Thank the stars she’s not yours, that’s a horrible name.”
"I don’t know, I think she likes it,“ the black mass said as it stuck out a lanky, sweater covered arm.
Hux watched in horror as Millicent floated over to the offered arm and then down to its lap, loafing there.
"You little traitor,” Hux growled, walking around to the front of the chair. Millicent was his cat! He wasn’t going to let some goth wannabe steal her from him. He scooped her up from the other boy’s lap, clutching her to his chest harder than he intended. He wasn’t going to let anyone take her from him.
“I think she likes me."
"She likes the attention, that’s all,” Hux replied defensively as he stroked Millicent. “You’re – you’re the only other person who can see her. How is that?"
"I’m psychic.”
"Psychics aren’t real.“
The goth arched an eyebrow, "Says the boy holding a ghost cat.”
"Touche, but I’m not psychic so how can I see her?“
The other boy shrugged his shoulders. "She’s probably your familiar.”
"My what?“
"Your familiar. Your spirit guide."
Hux stared at the mole covered boy blankly.
"Your witch’s familiar…” The boy let out a gasp of realization. “You don’t know you’re a witch, do you?”
"Stop saying that! I’m not a witch!“
Hux didn’t want to be a witch. Witches were old and ugly… but powerful. So very, very powerful. If Hux was a witch, well, he supposed being powerful did have its advantages. No one would be able to take Millicent away from him and maybe his father would stop beating him.
The other boy shrugged his shoulders again. "How else do you explain it? A ginger boy with a ginger ghost cat. Red hair is a witch’s trait you know.”
No, Hux didn’t know.
“Your mother or grandmother should have told you about your ancestry.”
Hux squeezed Millicent tighter. Is that why his father refused to talk about his mother? Because he knew she was a witch? The only thing Hux knew about his mother was that she had red hair. Red hair that he had inherited and that his father despised. It certainly explained a lot.
"Hey, you okay?“
Hux sucked in a large breath. "Fine, fine, I’m fine,” he lied.
"Sorry if I overwhelmed you, I thought you knew.“
"Some psychic you are,” Hux scoffed.
The boy blushed in embarrassment, “I’m still learning how to hone my powers. I’m kinda jealous of you honestly, being a witch. All I can do is levitate things, read minds, and talk to ghosts."
"That sounds cool."
"Not as cool as being a witch. You can summon demons and get revenge on people.”
"Revenge hu?“ Hux asked as he scratched Millicent under her chin. There was one person he wouldn’t mind getting revenge on. "So ugh, if I wanted to learn more about being a witch, what would I have to do?”
The other boy’s face lit up. “I can teach you the basics! I’m training under my Uncle Luke, he’s supposed to be the most powerful psychic in the world, but I’m seeing a tutor named Snoke and – I’ve had better results under his guidance. I’m sure he knows stuff about being a witch. Next time I see him I’ll ask if he’ll take you on too.”
"Oh. Okay. Thanks.“ Hux wanted to ask how much that was going to cost him. His Aunt Rae only sent him so much monthly allowance and most of it went to feeding and clothing himself. "Hey, what’s your name anyways?”
Ben could not believe his eyes. There right in front of him, stood a man who is wearing matching tartan pattern to the cat that often begged food from Ben with both persistence and expertise.
(Hux’s jacket referenced. cannot find the original link for the life of me. anyone?)
Woe's Huxbub 