#[ silver wolf ] ── * mus

[protectivemuses]

Tag Dump [Headcanon]

|Headcanon|Aether

|Headcanon|Alhaitham

|Headcanon|Collei

|Headcanon|Diluc

|Headcanon|Thoma

|Headcanon|Klee

|Headcanon|Layla

|Headcanon|Caelus

|Headcanon|Firefly

|Headcanon|Jingliu

|Headcanon|Lynx

|Headcanon|Moze

|Headcanon|Natasha

|Headcanon|Serval

|Headcanon|Silver Wolf

|Headcanon|Yunli

|Headcanon|Itadori

|Headcanon|Sasaki

|Headcanon|Takemichi

|Headcanon|Chifuyu

|Headcanon|Mitsuya

|Headcanon|Ryusei

|Headcanon|Wakasa

|Headcanon|Teucer

|Headcanon|Baiheng

|Headcanon|Wise

|Headcanon|Hua Cheng

|Headcanon|Fu Yao

|Headcanon|San Lang

|Headcanon|Mu Qing

[amicusastra]

SILVER WOLF & RYUJI KUSAKABE TAG DUMP

[ silver wolf ] ── * vis

[ silver wolf ] ── * ic

[ silver wolf ] ── * msg

[ silver wolf ] ── * hc

[ silver wolf ] ── * mus

[ silver wolf ] ── * aes

[ silver wolf ] ── * v. main

---

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * vis

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * ic

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * msg

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * hc

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * mus

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * aes

[ ryuji kusakabe ] ── * v. main

[perlen-gold]

Of Fairest Flame

Yeah, I'm TOTALLY on time for this (wait, it's already November you say?!) but this is something I've been working on for @ainurweek for Day 9: Melkor I Mairon

(I have something for Day 1 - 8 too... just not yet finished... it's a good thing I'm never late.)

Read on on AO3 or under the cut as it's so long 😆 (and also totally unrevised ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ).

Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated ❤️ though I can understand if you're too bored to read!

Also, I'd like to thank the people here on tumblr who encouraged me and assured me this was a nice fandom. Having been a wholly silent part of this fandom for years and years this is the first thing I have picked up the courage to share and I want to tell you, guys, THANK YOU! ❤️❤️❤️

At Mairon’s feet the whole world was made of gold.

When he passed, even the black-oblivion, obsidian-sleek walls of Utumno lit brazen-bright. Pits of bonfires woke beneath the iced rocks, and gilded flame-tips licked at his limbs from the sheer walls of Angband, polished to hot embers and glowing coals in his presence.

Wherever he trod was the flame of his hair. However dark the night, its lustrous strands wove glowing rubies into the roaming night. Whatever darkness he summoned around him was pierced by the golden gaze of his eyes.

His shadow dissolved into a golden crown when his fairness shone forth as he willed it to as leaping water over steep stones and cleaving rocks.

And I saw him take it, this heated glow of his as he had taken the rising crown from my hands. Oh, I had stared at him, harder and deeper than any mountain flesh or gaping chasm. I could have struck him down, torn him asunder as easily as I called spitting heights and depths to my biding. And yet his flame never even flickered in my direction. Not even when scornfully he took the gleaming jewels, heady with his disdain, from me. For my little flame did not shape mountains and chasms.

Gilded iron was his alloy and will his anvil.

It was beauty alone that Mairon shaped.

Patient, or as patient as I would, I watched him call forth in the forge the spearing splendor of my crown and the hideous shape of Orcs under the skies just as meticulously.

There is a fearsomeness in unpleasing appearance and Mairon knew it well. The dread Orcs inspire in the common man was of his design also, naturally.

So was the stronghold of Angband. A rock-hewn fortress of efficiency, warfare and secrecy, I never tired to wander its complexity, wondering and, with all my heart, occasionally longing to fell it just to see how Mairon would rebuild and recreate its terrible beauty all over again, though I never told him so. He knew anway, of course, and kept his keen golden eye on me like a wolf guarding its prey.

Yes, ghastly they were, the creatures Mairon unleashed upon his foes, the heinous Orcs and gruesome goblins, mountain-trolls and blood-teethed wolves, swathed in the blinding darkness of my Balrogs and fire-drinking dragons.

Mairon, however, ceased to be fair in battle.

Oh, he could have seduced most of his adversaries, forced onto week knees with his sorcery many more and all the rest. But a cobra will not feed upon limp flesh, the cheetah must race, the falcon swoop to pierce the songbird onto its claw.

And so, with his flickering flame-smile, Sauron, as they called him, set a different trap entirely to spring.

The light upon his face was an uncanny ally of his.

Illuminating the finest of his bones to marble-cutting flawlessness.

Chiseled heights, darkness and light were there ought to be neither, glowing shades and whisper-gleaming rays of sunlight beneath a blackened sky.

His voice rang the air like silvered iron, mellifluous and haunting at once, as commanding as a furnace and as tender as a caressing hand, his laugh bright sunlit pearls and cruelly suffocating ashes.

At the dawn, on the shore of battle, the highest elven kings, fiercest queens and most spirited warriors rode for him without hesitation. Sauron, the cruel, they murmured stern-faced among them, and he was indeed wickeder than any Orc or Balrog of mine.

They set out and rode and stroke to earn their place facing him, swords held aloft, their steadfast resolve soaring to shield their people and beloved ones and let detested Morgoth’s lieutenant perish at last.

What they met utterly unnerved, unrooted, unhinged them.

Comeliness.

Handsomeness.

Fairness.

Pulchritude.

Beauty.

Those are mere words. Spoken tumbling winter-leaves struggling to paint a hail storm.

He was all and naught.

And more.

And more.

And more of it.

Both women and men trembled in mesmerized dread and eerie, bloodcurdling want, gaping upon him. Intoxicating pleasure rose in them when they first caught his eye. It was like pain to them.

 By then Marion’s battle-born strides would have become languid-long strolls. The few who still had any morsels of wit left about them tried to break away their eyes from the light-infused apparition frantically, searching for the malice of his mace, gripping their swords with their sweat-slippery fingers.

It always charmed him into the smallest, most dazzlingly curving smile. They almost never realized that to Mairon the sword tip’s deadly dance was just another art, another craft to design and shape.

The most valiant were always wild on their obedient horses to shoot like arrows at him.

Towards the end, they all fell, crawled, cursed, glowered, quivered under the tip of his iron-clad foot. I have always thought him nearly never more beautiful than when he coaxes his cruelty like a lover’s kiss before the bite.

Around them their friend’s torn faces and daughters’ and sons’ smeared lips, honeyed with crimson blossoms and singing gold flowers. The unnatural light painted the blood-gasping ground and changed their fallen comrade-in-arms’ gruesome wounds to crimson-cold brocade.

Mairon had them between his teeth till they died of bliss and horror alike.

Until they sighed and shrieked and moaned and wept.

 “You are Sauron,” they would utter, staring, accusing, spitting at him.

Oh, yes, Mairon said. Smiled. Oh, yes, yes.

Sometimes the very young ones, well-trained boys and girls, would beg him then. Then, Mairon’s rose-soft, velvet-curling lips smiled even more beautiful.

Around him the thrusting, piercing, blood-lilting, iron-soaked air was limned with gold. In this pause, this endless biding of time against the grey-spraying portrait of misting blood and blooming battle he liked to pull off his helmet at last. Slow and delicately this one, rapidly in a great sweeping arch the other time.

It is the last thing they always see.

The reaching length of his hair curling into sunlit waves of gleaming water ripples, his sun-shaming light pouring as endless waterfalls.

The pinkish tip of his tongue a glimpse between his curving gold-dusted lips in the moment of his kill.

In the blink of a startled eye, Mairon’s beauty rippled into a haunting, living, wraith-like phantom.

The high-browed elven lord’s eyes always widened and their lips spit on the ground before his last smile.

Before he opened them as ripe figs bursting on touch.

When I came forth from my fortress, the ground shook with satisfying anticipation and a rumble swept through our armies, his and mine, mine and theirs. As I stepped forward without forewarning, the roiling battle was surging under Mairon’s sway as usual.

A draught of wind … I could listen to the softness of Mairon’s petal-perfect skin in it. I could savor the unnatural shadows illuminating his brow and cheekbones in the exact, precisely perfect way whispering across his features and taste the whipping of his hair in my mouth, scarlet-sizzling as coals. On his flaming head his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smooth black somehow enlightening the flawlessness of his features even more. His iron-slinking armor, sharp as curving wolf teeth, clung to the virtue of his shape. His fiery hair, tamed in the forge only, was afly like shimmering birds. I saw it whip through the air as Mairon turned abruptly around even before the roaring Orcs next to me blinked at my sudden presence.

At once, I saw the flare in him bright as sunlit gemstones as I set foot on the battle field, his intricate thoughts shooting like spider’s webs into a myriad of calculations at once.

The mind of any other Valar and their servants are like lily-bedded ponds. Deep their water runs but slow, and the pebble thrown barely bounces across the surface. The ripples are soon gone.

Mairon’s mind, however, darted like fire prancing, dazzling to watch its hundred and thousand swift flickers.

I seldom partook in battle and, oh, hard it was becoming already to stifle my laughter.

Promptly, I could see his clever embers stirred in their battle-focused ash-bed, swiftly and instantaneously.

Ah, how often had I thwarted his meticulous plans in the past before for no obvious reason – not obvious to him, that is – at all?

Sometimes I had leapt into action when he would have stalled my impatient hand, sought to preserve what I annihilated and at other times I had cherished what Mairon had deemed worthless.

So wary was his gaze as it first flew into my direction like a sleeping volcano’s first spark that I could sense a thousand thoughts ignite into a hundred interweaving sparks at once. He knew I was seldom to do what he bid me to and never to follow a plan to its end.

Oh, but he was a quick-bright little flame, and whatever havoc I wrought upon his elaborate schemes he would never be surprised nor deceived twice and what could scratch upon the perfection of his composure once never did even reflect on the polished marble sheen of his features ever again.

Oh, but he knew me so well indeed as the fire knows the logs it steadily consumes. It had become increasingly hard to catch him unawares, to make mark any impression upon his clever, ever-calm countenance.

A thousand wiles I had played upon him through the ages already and a thousand predictions and presumptions were lapping at his iron-clad feet now.

As soon as I set foot on the ground it trembled and Mairon’s gold flame hair was afly.

Instantaneously, his face turned in the direction of my arrival and, though he was far away on a lone hill, in the midst of battle, a commander of forces who would be commanded by none other, I could see his shimmering beauty whip around.

Belike, I would seek his advice or perhaps I would undo all his careful webs and sunder all his admirable designs upon a mere whim of mine –  he was fascinated and loath to watch me do it.

So, as the ground rumbled beneath my iron-clad footfalls and even the darkest creatures of my armies shrank away in fright, I could see him not step back like them but instead devise and foretell a thousand things to be prepared for me, to predict my wisdom – of which he doomed little upon me – and envision the chaos I could wreck.

Bright could I see the light of his mind as he drew it, keen as the nimble blade he was wilding.

A lesser being he was, yes, so much more fragile and less mighty than I. But none of the other Valar, let alone their servants, possessed his mind’s spark-gleaming quickness, second only – or so I hoped to believe – to my own infinite-stretching mind.

Golden thoughts sparked within it, darting as light, trying to decipher the cause and – more important in Mairon’s glittering mind – the ends of my wild stepping into battle.

Again, I almost burst out laughing.

My hammer, however, dragged a gaping gorge behind me. I did not lift it nor unleash its deadly power and that, I think, a brimming in my chest, is what drew Mairon’s suspsicion most.  

From my path, my army swayed, Orcs and darker creatures shrinking back.

But I am a god and it took me scarcely more than a few strides before I reached him.

Mairon’s face was like marble showing neither dent nor impression whatsoever. If I had knelt at his feet his splendid expression would have shattered – but in my mind the idea I carried within me was of another kind and I brimmed with the anticipation of it.

Ah, how unearthly, uncannily, unrelentingly beautiful he was!

Mairon, His sword reluctantly held, raised his gold-infused gaze at me.

Inside the dazzling gold there were cold calculation and smug disdain aglitter.

Ah.

That potent mixture of mocking smugness and complacent taunt.

I have never told him that, though lesser in being, immortality and power, Mairon’s visage bore one fruit none other in Eä could offer.

In all other beings I had seen and sniffed it, beasts and birds, elves and orcs, wild things and god-like creatures alike. The other Valar, too, I had seen the sheen of it upon them – why, even Manwë – and it had filled me with glee unimaginable.

Not him, though.

Never him.

Forest of giles, oceans quick as arrows and mountains sharp as knives, I could see a whole world blazing in his aureate eyes.

Even smug disdain, if he had the nerve for it – and Mairon almost always did. Even, in those rarest moments when he was most unguarded, trust.

Amidst the tides of our forces I stood still in front of him. On Mairon’s flaming hair his crown – for it was more iron crown than helmet – was a smoke grey, somehow illuming the brilliant symmetry of his features even more, his iron-slinking armor sharp as wolf teeth clinging to the sculptured fairness of his shape.

That fierce serpent beauty flashed. Yes, my lord? What is it that drives you forward to my meek reign?

The scarlet flame of his hair tangling around him in a windless breeze, a luscious bow, mockingly coy, of curving lips and white teeth. I could hear his voice tingle in my head.

Having left your hideout, is there something you ask of me?

Ah.

Insolence and impudence. Arrogance. Amusement.

A whole world but never fear.

I could have wrapped my hands around his slender neck and squeezed without even a gleam of scare in him. I could have lifted my hammer, torn the earth beneath his feet, dictated the skies to strike him with thunder and lightning.

Ages and aeons ago, in the sweltering gleam of Aulë’s forge, he had spotted me among the darkness long before I revealed myself. His eyes shone in the dark brighter than any cat’s. Instead of raising his voice, crying wolf and havoc for help, he watched me and I could feel his gold-gaze lingering.

I went back to my underground halls that day, pondering that brazen insolence just to return the next night trying to break his unwavering gaze.

“How do you know I will not smite you where you stand?” I asked him upon the next day in the deserted forge when I let go of the shadows at last to bend over him.

He cocked his head like a bird and returned, smug as a raven:

“How will you know I will not betray you where you sit?”

The cheek! I was a poisonous viper and he was another and, oh, how fiercely I wanted him to be mine, mine, mine then and mine alone!

His soft neck was between my hands before even he could elude me. Instantaneously, the gold in his eyes sparked with realization and horrified shock of what I was about to do in a split heartbeat ere I was upon him. His lustrous hair whipped like gold ribbons in a wind where there was none, his skin was iridescent in his otherworldly apparition-beauty.

His gilt-rimmed pupils dilated but it was already too late.

I pressed my mouth amidst the surging battle forces upon his pearly lips and kissed.

Flame-swift, Mairon’s rage was so instantaneous I had to swallow my cackling laughter just to prolong the touching of our lips a little longer before he could defy me.

A conflagration met my mouth and I, made of ice and fire, allowed him to singe me till I felt actual pain for I burnt and grinned now beholding the utter outrage in Mairon’s gold-limned eyes.

I could not fathom what incensed him more – the fact that I would do this outside the secrecy of his sweltering bed chambers or the incidental truth that I had accomplished to take him yet again by utter surprise.

Suddenly, the hot-white rage came, ever more terrifying and beautiful than a thunderstorm.

He looked like he might have struck me down then and there, me, in front of everyone.

Then Mairon turned – not because he could not but would not strike me – and away he  went like a conflagration to ravage the battlefield, descending upon our enemies as the sun, golden-bright and blind-burning, veiled in the light of stars and comets, and I watched him, his beautiful blaze transforming into a wraith-like furnace which he cast upon the enemy so that neither elven nor mortal survivor – if they survived – would be able to look  at a beautiful face, be it fair maiden or lovely lad or sweet rose, and bear it ever again.

As my thunder-laugh broke from my chest the ground around me shook and shuddered.

Pierced as though scorched, the swelling of my lower lip seared.

Oh, I was looking forward to golden vengeance he would spin to wreak upon me.

I laughed.

[verxsyon]

royal au hsr inspired by lord of heroes. monarch!gn!reader.

i blame @baeshijima for getting me back into loh, albeit briefty… i stopped playing again due to starting summer session soon ughhh. but i did have fun tho which inspired me to make this au for hsr.

similar to my royal au with genshin inspired by fe3h, it’ll be formatted as hcs split into multiple installments. reader’s a monarch of a small nation, whose their goal is forming an alliance with other nations to stop dark forces — in this case the stellaron — from overtaking the world.

the astral express = avillon knights

herta space station = friendly stage/already allies

jarilo-vi + xianzhou (luofu) = occupy stages

the stellaron hunters = gallus empire (east)

judging from kafka’s splash art, it seems like there are 8 stellaron hunters aside from silver wolf and blade. and guess what, there are also 8 of the fangs of the empire. so it’s perfect with elio as the emperor who has the ability to see the future.

the trailblazers, caelus and stelle, are like mu and lamba who allow reader to access the archives (dan heng who), a database that contains info about the hsr universe and the people they met. tbs can also help them travel between timelines to prevent the stellaron from destroying the world each time.

space royal au wooo!

[soabase]

Character List

Canon characters are unmarked; characters marked as (NC) are those from official non-canon sources; an asterisk refers to characters that diverge significantly from their original source; and characters marked as (O) are original, made for the fanfic. Only characters that have appeared in at least one of the published chapters are listed.

Main Characters

Seiya, Pegasus

Saori Kido, Athena

Shun, Andromeda

June, Chameleon (*)

Hyoga, Cygnus

Shiryu, Dragon

Marin, Eagle

Shaina, Ophiuchus

Ikki, Phoenix

Gold Saints

Camus, Aquarius

Mu, Aries

Aldebaran, Taurus

Deathmask, Cancer

Shura, Capricorn

Aiolos, Sagittarius

Aiolia, Leo

Old Master, Dohko, Libra

Aphrodite, Pisces

Milo, Scorpio (*)

Shaka, Virgo

Saga, Castor, Gemini

Shion, Aries

Cancer's Aspirant (O)

Silver Saints

Albiore, Cepheus (*)

Haris, Crane (O)

Babel, Centaurus

Asterion, Hound

Misty, Lizard

Moses, Whale

Capella, Auriga

Jamian, Crow

Sirius, Canis Major

Dante, Cerberus

Georg, Crux (*)

Algethi, Hercules

Dio, Musca

Jaeger, Orion (*)

Algol, Perseus

Jan, Scutum (*)

Ptolemy, Sagitta

Karim, Crater (O)

Orpheus, Lyra

Bronze Saints

Jabu, Unicorn

Geki, Bear

Ichi, Hydra

Ban, Lionet

Nachi, Wolf

Reda, Cassiopeia (NC*)

Alicia, Dolphin (NC*)

Ethel, Lepus (O)

Anka, Piscis Austrinus (O)

Cult of Athena

Aleka, High Priestess (O)

Zamira, Acolyte, Priestess (O)

Thalia, Priestess (O)

Dark Saints

Jango (*)

Dark Andromeda

Filia, Dark Chameleon (O)

Dark Cygnus

Dark Dragon

Dark Pegasus

Dark Bear (O)

Dark Hydra (O)

Dark Lionet (O)

Dark Unicorn (O)

Shiro, Dark Wolf (O)

Gods & God-like Beings

Zeus (O)

Hebe (O)

Ares (O)

Persephone (O)

Artemis (*)

Apollo (*)

Julian Solo, Poseidon

Hypnos (*)

Thanatos (*)

Hades

Hermes (O)

Demeter (O)

Hephaestus (O)

Dionysus (O)

Hestia (O)

Angels

Icarus

Atalanta (*)

Odysseus (NC*)

Electra (O)

Marina

Kanon, Pollux, Triton (*)

Caça, Charybdis (*)

Io, Scylla

Baian, Sea Horse

Sorrento, Siren

Thetis, Mermaid

Krishna, Chrysaor

Isaak, Kraken

Judges

Minos

Rhadamanthys

Aiacos

Cult of Hades

Pandora, High Priestess

Others

Shunrei

Esmeralda (*)

Miho

Tatsumi

Delina (O)

Cassios

[donghuamuqing]

Its my fandom experience and i get to make the rules. None of this is substantial and is just bits and pieces of whatever makes sense in my mind. Mu qing and feng xin r titan shifters that protect xie lian. He wants to fight The Walls so he joins the survey corp? Or maybe theres no political conflict and its just the xianle team meeting the other titans as a show of good faith to nurture positive interaction in the future? I feel like hua cheng is an ackerman like figure and his heart imprints on xl but they have a *teeth clenching* happy ending. Guoshi is the war general beast titan and is like a huge silver fox? Or wolf? Fx is either the armored titan or the attack titan i cant decide. Mq is a more androgynous female titan (the annie leonhardt ification of mu qing. Also i think hes built for the speed and adaptability of what the female titan requires. Maybe trans mu qing and he got the female titan before he realized? Maybe the name is changed to adaptive titan like ive seen before??) or mq could be the warhammer but i love his hair too much to cover it up. Ive said it before but he xuan is an evil ymir freckles his jaw titan is shaped after his bone fish he has an angler fish like face

[protectivemuses]

Tag Dump [Muses]

|IC|Aether

|IC|Alhaitham

|IC|Collei

|IC|Diluc

|IC|Thoma

|IC|Klee

|IC|Layla

|IC|Caelus

|IC|Firefly

|IC|Jingliu

|IC|Lynx

|IC|Moze

|IC|Natasha

|IC|Serval

|IC|Silver Wolf

|IC|Yunli

|IC|Itadori

|IC|Sasaki

|IC|Takemichi

|IC|Chifuyu

|IC|Mitsuya

|IC|Ryusei

|IC|Wakasa

|IC|Teucer

|IC|Baiheng

|IC|Wise

|IC|Hua Cheng

|IC|Fu Yao

|IC|San Lang

|IC|Mu Qing

[biblioklept-writes]

the young mother

Alicent Hightower had always been described as a precocious child, and now as The Queen Mother Alicent Targaryen, she has been described as cunning, vile and cruel. They say that she cannot let go of grudges and enchanted the naive and noble King Viserys I by her sexual prowess and nubile body.

She heard about them all, of course. As hard as she tries to not let those words bother her, they did. What had she done to invoke such conflict? What had she done that was not expected of her?

Alicent lay in her bed, stroking her swollen belly. In her womb, was her fourth child, and the maestors said that the baby would be here in two moons. She had had three beautiful silver haired children before this one, and each time that she had hoped that her husband would be there to assist her or even care for her, she was left disappointed. Was it wrong of her to expect her husband's support when she was carrying his children? When she had given him three beautiful children, two of them being boys, the heir that the kingdom had wanted.

Rhaenrya was named the heir, and while her friend would make a great queen, she was yet to learn the responsibility. The lords do not forget of the gossip that had floated the court, and presently, gossip floated that the child in the princess' belly was not her husband's. While it was too early for such rumours, that had not deterred the court lords and ladies to gossip.

Alicent longed for the days when she had been friends with the princess, when there had been no void between the two. They were two lonely women bound by something stronger than friendship, but the time had not been kind to their love and gave them such opposing conditions. It had been a difficult choice: the father who raised her or the princess she had befriended and loved?

Rhaenrya's silky silver hair had been so soft to touch, and she had loved laying her head on the now-Queen's lap and talk on for hours as they sat in the magnificent godswood, talking about anything and everything that came under the light of the sun and the illumination of the moon. Longing for such pure love overtook her, and she mourned the loss of her friendship, if their bond could even be called that. Perhaps it was for the better, but Alicent didn't see any truth in those words, not when her soul craved for that friendship again, not when a part of her had been snatched from her.

She wondered what it would be like having a mother like Aemma Arryn and a father like Viserys who blindly trusted his daughter and looked after her. What it would be like to have someone in her corner, to crush the rumours about her that had floated the Red Keep since the day she was married to the King against her will, since she had to lay with a man nearly twice her age to give him heirs, sons and daughter that he did not care for nor named his heir. She wondered what it would be like being someone's first choice, in friendship, in love, in parental relationships.

The pregnancy discomfort and the thoughts that plagued her kept her awake till the break of dawn when her handmaidens arrived and cleaned her chamber pots and prepared a warm bath for her, while she pretended to be asleep. Sleep evaded her, much like her husband and her father.

It was now time for breakfast and Alicent sat in her chambers with her sons and daughter, feeding her youngest, Aemond, while Haelena and Aegon played with the toy animals and dragons. Haelena started crying when Aegon snatched her toy - a little wolf cub - and claimed, "We play with dragons,"

"Shh, Aegon," She chided, having promised herself never to let her daughter stay away from her, to do everything she needed and would ever need. "Give Haelena her cub back, you play with your dragons, yeah? Let her play."

Aegon reluctantly handed her cub back, not wanting to upset his beautiful mother. Aemond whined, murmuring a broken, "Ma-ma, mu-m," when the food in his mouth had disappeared. He was the youngest for now and yet he was the calmest. Even as a newborn Aemond had been the nannies favourite: he seldom cried and was a pleasant child, easily enamoured by the vast castle premises and the toys that he was given. It was a shame that the kids didn't know that they had a father, their only address being "Mama", "Nana", and occasionally a slurred, "Ser" for Ser Cole.

These were her children, even though their father didn't like them, these children meant the world to her. She would try her best to shield them from the cruel world, to preserve the innocence in their beautiful lilac eyes for as long as she could. She only wished that the society allows her to love her children just as much when the grow older, that they love her.

To be loved and appreciated was one of the few things her soul wanted, and with her three little dragons, she felt right at home. To her, these kids were not just Targaryen princes and princess, they were her home, her hope for a better future and to be loved.

"Ma-mm," Little Aemond cried, reaching up to wipe the tear that had managed to slip past the dam that she built.

"I'm good, little dragon." Alicent assured, feeling a genuine smile after a long time. "Mummy is fine,"

Haelena and Aegon hugged her from either side, and her heart swelled with emotions, threatening to burst out of her chest. "Dragon fights for mummy," Haelena muttered, making Alicent wonder for the nth time if her daughter was a dreamer. "Big dragon protects mummy,"

She kissed the heads of all three of her kids, happy to be able to bring life into her small world where the baby would be adored by his siblings. Her kids were her world, and she would fight every last dragon if that meant her children were safe and protected.

[sholangagaga]

Glamstar Family : A Fnaf Security Breach AU

Wowee wow guys! I didn't think my au would get so popular so fast (I got like 60 followers over the span of less than a week! Thanks so much!) like, holy cow!

I've been drawing and writing things for the AU nonstop, because it makes me happy and it apparently makes other people happy too! Someone had asked if there was a fanfic for the AU, and technically, there is! It's just confined to my google docs, haha!

I've decided to start posting the actual fic, alongside art and silly shitposts. I feel like this AU could use more expansion, and while it'll take me a bit to formulate all of my writings into chapters, I do at least have the prologue done! So, I'm posting that first!

This prologue takes place 3 months before the events of the Glamstar AU. Enjoy!

Chapter 0 : A Prologue to Oneself

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“Well? What do you think?”

“I think it’s just a normal child.”

“Oh he’s just so cute! He looks a little thin though, do you think he’s hungry?”

“This isn’t our problem. We should turn him over to the guards!”

“Yeah, let 'em handle him. We ain’t got any protocol for dealing with kids after hours.”

As the five adults bickered back and forth, the boy sitting across from them looked confused. Were they. . .deciding his fate?

The orange one with bear ears, the one the boy knew as Freddy, was trying to convince the others to keep the boy here with them. On his side was a woman with short white hair. Her name was Chica, and while she was agreeing with Freddy, her topic of conversation seemed to consistently trail back to food.

On the opposing side was Roxanne, a tan woman with long, wild silver hair and wolf appendages. Beside her was a taller man with dreadlocks and a reptilian tail. Montgomery, or Monty as the boy recalled, looked like he was just along for the ride and didn’t actually have a real opinion on the matter. They were arguing against letting the boy stay, even threatening to summon a security guard to throw him out.

Between both sides was a man with purple hair and rabbit ears. His arms were crossed, and he just seemed to be listening. There was no input, and his eyes seemed to linger on Freddy, as if watching his reactions. This was someone the boy didn’t know. He’d never seen this person before.

“Gregory has nowhere else to go!” Freddy exclaimed when the argument reached its peak. The boy, Gregory, looked up when his name was mentioned, but didn’t move or speak aside from that.

“That’s not our problem, Freddy!” Roxanne barked back, pointing a perfectly manicured finger at the vocalist. “We don’t have to do anything! We could get in massive trouble for hiding a child! You may be the namesake of this place but you ain’t our boss! I’m not taking a fall for you!” Freddy recoiled from the sting of her words, his ears drooping a tad.

“Bonnie, talk to him! He’d listen to you.” Monty looked towards the rabbit man that the boy now knew as Bonnie, who was standing there with a hand on his chin. It was hard to tell what emotion Monty was really expressing, considering his eyes were shrouded by sunglasses. Who wears sunglasses at night? Gregory thought, following his gaze.

After a tense silence, Bonnie shook his head. “This doesn’t concern me,” he began, re-crossing his arms, “You four are the main team here, I’ve got no stake in what you do or don’t do.”

The reactions from the others were varied, with Roxy throwing her arms up in frustration, Monty pinching the bridge of his nose, and Freddy and Chica looking crushed. Gregory was impressed that they seemed so. . .well, human. He’d always thought they were just regular robots with a bit of personality sprinkled into their binary code.

“However,” Bonnie continued, causing everyone to turn to him again, “It’s late, and we all need to recharge. Leave the kid here with Freddy, and in the morning, we deal with him through the appropriate channels.”

It was a decent idea, everyone got what they wanted in a way with minimal hassle. The others must’ve agreed, because they all murmured approvingly.

“Uh, wait, don’t I get a say in any of this?” Gregory raised his hand, causing all eyes to fall on him. Those steely expressions would’ve made anyone else cower, but they only emboldened him further. “I mean, you guys are just robots! You can’t just talk about me like I’m not here!”

“We prefer the term synthetic, thank you very much. ‘Robot’ is just hurtful.” Bonnie said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh Gregory, we were so absorbed in our discussion that we had not even thought to ask you what you thought. What would you like for us to do?” Freddy spoke, walking forward and leaning down to the boy’s height. His voice was soft and genuine, like he really cared about Gregory’s opinion. He hadn’t experienced that before.

“Well, I. . .”

Now that he was given a chance to speak, Gregory’s voice betrayed him. Did he want to leave and suffer on the streets? Or did he attempt to stay and fight a whole different battle that he’s never experienced before? It was certainly a big decision, but one that he found the answer to relatively quickly.

Looking up with a resolved fire in his eyes, Gregory spoke his answer.

“I want to stay.”

-

Elsewhere, a child with long blonde hair tied in pigtails sat in class. She looked down at her hands, which were neatly folded in her lap. Around her, the class was cheerfully discussing plans for a field trip that was going to take place in a couple months.

“Let’s go to an amusement park!”

“No way, a zoo!”

“I wanna go to the aquarium!”

Students rattled off different destinations, but no one seemed able to make up their mind. This chaos continued, much to the teacher’s amusement.

“What about you, Jaime?”

The class grew silent, turning to face Jaime, the blonde child. She furrowed her brow, disliking the sudden attention now solely directed on her. Jaime closed her notebook quickly, preventing nosy eyes from seeing what’s within its pages.

“Go on, don’t be shy.” The teacher cooed, leaning forward on her desk.

Jaime, now hugging the notebook close, took a second to find her voice. It was now or never. When will another opportunity like this come up again?

“The Mega Pizzaplex.” Jaime winced, expecting laughter and jeers from her classmates. Instead, she was greeted by a chorus of oohs and aahs from the excited children.

“I didn’t even think of that!”

“Who would have thought the weirdo would have such a good idea?”

“I wanna see Freddy!”

The students, now unanimous, began happily chanting Freddy’s name. The teacher hurried to calm the students down, promising that she’d set up the trip as long as everyone stopped yelling.

Amidst the noise, Jaime shrunk back into obscurity, a small grin forming on her face.

“Step 1, completed.” She said to no one in particular, suddenly thinking that it was worth coming to school today.

[Chapter 1]

[it-begins-with-rain]

Chinese Language TV Recommendations

For my Korean TV Recommendations, click here.

*Contains both Mainland-Chinese and Taiwanese programs.

** Updated 05/23/21 with “Miss The Dragon” & “Word of Honor”

A Love So Beautiful

Can the pure love of 17-year-olds endure through all the challenges of college and adulthood?

Chen Xiao Xi and Jiang Chen are high school friends and neighbors who grew up together. Xiao Xi is happy-go-lucky and doesn’t like to study much but she has a talent for drawing. Jiang Chen is popular for his good looks and high grades, but is cold and indifferent to other people.

Their friends include swimmer Wu Bo Song, who will do anything for XiaoXi, the dorky and over-confident gamer Lu Yang, and Lin Jing Xiao, the most beautiful girl in school (who Lu Yang is hopelessly in love with).

How will the realities of life shape the friendships and love lives of these young adults?

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Ashes of Love // Heavy Sweetness, Ash-Like Frost

Jin Mi is the secret lovechild of the Flower Deity and the Water Immortal, conceived before the Flower Deity suffers a fatal wound.

The deity gives birth to a baby girl (Jin Mi) on her deathbed, and foresees the infant will face a terrible trial by her 10,000th year. To save her from her fate, the Flower Deity gives Jin Mi a pill that makes it impossible for her to ever feel romantic love. Upon her death, she forbids anyone in the Flower Kingdom from revealing the fact that she had a child.

Several thousand years later, Jin Mi is a bumbling little fairy trapped in The Water Mirror- a gilded prison where low-level fairies can live in peace. Jin Mi believes she is a small Grape Fairy, and lives a happy (if not dull) life within the Mirror with her friends.

When a charred bird falls from the heavens into the Water Mirror, Jin Mi decides to eat save the poor little ‘crow’– who in reality is Xu Feng, the mighty phoenix son of the Heavenly Emperor. Her decision to not eat save the Fire God will put them at the heart of plots and schemes, romances and adventures spanning the Flower Kingdom, Heavenly Realm, Demon Kingdom, and the Realm of Mortals.

**Trigger Warning: Contains reference to off-camera sexual assault.**

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Dance of the Phoenix

Feng Wu, a former genius girl in the Junwu Continent, was attacked by her old enemy Zuo Qingluan. In the attack, she lost not only her memories and abilities, but her “phoenix blood” which made her powerful.

In order to save Feng Wu her secret tutor, Master Mu Jiuzhou (a hero thought long dead whose soul is bound inside a ring Feng Wu wears around her neck), exhausted his vitality and fell into a deep coma.

The forces Master Mu Jiuzhou were trying to keep at bay are roiling again, readying for war unless Feng Wu can recover her memories, her power, and survive long enough to release him from the ring.

But if Feng Wu at full power couldn’t stop the evil Zhuo Qingluan’s attack and save herself, what chance does “normal person” Feng Wu have?

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Douluo Continent

Tang San is a hardworking and kind young man who was raised by his single father to be a blacksmith to a small village. His demanding father taught him secret techniques and cultivated unknown abilities while refusing to ever allow him to enter the world of the Soul Masters- heroes who use their inner power to defeat monstrous Soul Beasts and collect their power.

One day, Tang San is attacked in the woods by a fearsome Soul Spider and uses his special techniques to survive, drawing the eye of a nearby Soul Master. The man tests Tang San and discovers that while his Soul Spirit takes the utterly useless form of a common weed (as opposed to say a lion or a wolf), he harbors extreme untapped power and potential.

What only Tang San and his father know is that Tang San is a rare Twin-Soul, in possession of not one Soul Spirit- the Blue Grass- but a second extraordinarily rare weapon spirit capable of being wielded either against foes or in protection of innocents.

Unable to deny Tang San the ability to learn to control his power, his father allows him to leave the protection of the village and embark on a journey to develop his powers and perhaps learn the truth of his parentage.

On his journey Tang San will be joined by the mysterious and naïve Xiao Wu- a seemingly unstoppable and optimistic girl with a rabbit as her Soul Spirit and the ability to absorb the life force of Soul Beasts. They are led by a disgraced Soul Master in Training, Yu Xiao Gang, who was disregarded as a janitor all while studying Soul Masters and developing his own radical theories as to the nature of their power.

Tang San, Xiao Wu, Yu Xiao Gang, and the other friends they meet along the way will become a famous team of heroes known as the “Seven Devils of Shrek Academy”, and be drawn into an imperial struggle for power that threatens to consume their entire continent.

Tang San appears to the world as the master of the Silver Grass Spirit, but once that same world realizes the might of the Weapon Spirit he keeps hidden, he will have to fight with everything he has in order to protect what he holds dear.

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Fairyland Lovers

Bai Qi is a “spiritual doctor” who travels the world to rid spirits of their obsessions and stop them from becoming monsters. Eons ago he himself was at the threshold of becoming an Evil Spirit, and was saved by a Divine Warrior who helped him find a way to move past his darkness before tragically losing her life.

Isolated from the world and alone with a sprig of his lost love’s peach tree, Bai Qi meets the sunny but hapless actress Lin Xia. Not only does the tree come to life in her presence- and not only can she use the tools left behind by his lost lover- she also has the same face.

Curious, Bai Qi enters into a co-habitation agreement with Lin Xia and she helps him cleanse souls before they can turn into Evil Spirits. As their lives intersect, a memory that Bai Qi sealed away for over ten thousand years begins to surface.

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Guardian

Super-Detective Zhao Yunlan meets university professor (and powerful supernatural being) Shen Wei and the two men are instantly drawn together by a past one cannot forget and a future the other cannot guess. As they grow closer, they find themselves at the heart of a high-stakes supernatural battle between unknown enemies.

Will the heroic duo’s unique talents- and special bond- be enough to help them outwit the forces of darkness?

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Handsome Siblings (2020 Netflix Edition)

Hua Wuque is a pillar of righteousness and virtue, the only male disciple of the powerful Yihua Palace cultivation clan. An orphan, he was taken in by the clan leader and her sister and raised with only one goal in life: to find and kill Jiang Xiaoyu, a mighty villain and enemy of Yihua Palace.

So who is Jiang Xiaoyu? Also known as Xiaoyu’er, Jiang Xiaoyu is an orphan himself- the same age as Hua Wuque in fact- raised by the five most feared and hated villains in the world within the confines of the Wicked Canyon. Into Jiang Xiaoyu the villains poured their knowledge, tricks, and ruthlessness, seeking to create the ultimate villain. There is only one problem: As he was raised in the Wicked Canyon and surrounded by nothing but villains, Jiang Xiaoyu mostly uses his abilities to… harm villains and protect the weak.

When Jiang Xiaoyu comes of age and leaves the Wicked Canyon (or rather, becomes too much of a trickster for the villains to handle anymore), Hua Wuque is unleashed to venture from Yihua Palace and hunt down his enemy.

But how could someone kept confined in the Wicked Canyon for the first 18 years of his life be a threat to Yihua Palace? And why must Hua Wuque be the one to kill him (under direction that Jiang Xiaoyu cannot die naturally, be killed by someone else, or kill himself)?

There is a piece of the story Jiang Xiaoyu and Hua Wuque do not know: they are orphans of the same tragedy, in which the divine hero Jiang Feng spurned the love of both leaders of Yihua Palace for a beautiful servant named Hua Yuenu. Hua Yuenu was forced to commit suicide and Jiang Feng killed himself rather than submit to the Ladies of Yihua–

Leaving behind newborn (non-identical) twin sons.

Yihua Palace’s plot is a simple (if OTT) act of vengeance against Jiang Feng’s memory:: Force one brother to murder the other, then reveal to Hua Wuque the sin he has committed and let it drive the boy insane.

Will the truth come out before Wuque finds and kills Xiaoyu, or will the evil Ladies of Yihua Palace finally have the vengeance they have waited for for over 18 years? As Wuque and Xiaoyu’s paths cross more and more they strike up an unlikely friendship, even knowing there is no escaping their dark fate.

**Trigger Warning: Later episodes include off-camera sexual assault and on-camera depictions of near-rape.**

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Hi My Sweetheart

Xue Hai is a kindhearted (and extremely wealthy) but naïve man who has been sheltered by his big sisters his entire life. He decides to go to college in China- where no one knows him- under the name Da Lang and with the image of a poor scholarship student. There Xue Hai meets the dominant, friendless, and rebellious Bao Zhu. Naturally the two fall in love, but after 4 years together, just as he’s going to reveal his identity and propose, Bao Zhu viciously dumps him.

Fast forward three more years. Xue Hai has transformed himself into a handsome but ruthless playboy who treats women as nothing more than toys to be used and cast aside. When he chances across Bao Zhu once more, he decides to launch a campaign to destroy her heart as thoroughly and mercilessly as she did his.

Except Xue Hai is missing one important piece of their love story: Bao Zhu only left him to protect him from her domineering mother, and she has been searching for her beloved Da Lang ever since.

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The King’s Avatar

In the online multiplayer game Glory, Ye Xiu is well known as the undisputed master of professional sports- though no one outside of the professional teams actually knows what he looks like as he hides his face from media and fans. A player since he was a child- and raised largely in professional player training camps- Ye Xiu has no understanding of the outside world.

Halfway through the season, the money-hungry company behind his team, Excellency Era, forces him out and replaces him with an undisciplined hot-shot. Penniless and with nowhere to go, Ye Xiu crosses the street and enters the Happy Internet Cafe. The owner is a diehard fan of the mysterious Ye Xiu, and hires Ye Qiu as an IT manager not for his experience, but for his shared love of the game.

When Glory launches their tenth server, Ye Qiu throws himself into the game once more. Equipped with ten years of gaming experience, memories of an unfinished pledge to a dead friend, and an incomplete self-made weapon, Ye Qiu will rise from the ashes, forge a new team, and take back his crown.

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The Lost Tomb**

50 years ago, a group of Changsha grave robbers known as the “Mystic Nine” dug out manuscripts of the location of treasures from the Warring States period, but soon after almost the entire group was hunted down and slaughtered.

In the present, the young grandchild of the sole survivor, Wu Xie, discovers a secret within his grandfather’s notes as well as half of a silk manuscript that may reveal the location of the lost tomb. But there is one problem- the other half of the manuscript is held by a shady organization of tomb raiders eager to break in and steal whatever cultural relics are inside the tomb.

Wu Xie has a “National Treasure” moment and decides that in order to stop the objects in the tomb from vanishing into the black market he will break in first and recover whatever is inside (’I’m going to steal the Declaration of Independence…’).

Wu Xie is helped on his journey by his beloved “Third Uncle” Wu Sanxing, his uncle’s right hand man Panzi, and the mysterious Xiao Ge - a tomb raider who seems to know of traps before they are sprung and whose hand has been mutilated in a way not seen among tomb robbing families in over a century.

They expected to find a lost tomb, perhaps chase away some thieves, and learn about an exciting piece of lost history. What they did not expect was for the tomb to strike back, the dead to rise, and the past to fight and keep what secrets it holds.

Who exactly are this alternate group of tomb robbers? What are they searching for? What exactly is protecting the tomb? Whose side is Xiao Ge truly on? And- most crucially- can Wu Xie survive long enough to find the answers?

** This recommendation is part of a broader series of shows and movies, all adapted from “The Gravedigger’s Notebook” and its sequels::

The Lost Tomb (2015)

The Lost Tomb 2: Explore With the Note (2016)

Time Raiders (2016 movie)

The Mystic Nine (2016)

Tomb of the Sea (2018)

Reunion: The Sound of the Providence (which gets its own recommendation below; 2019-2020)

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Love O2O

** O = letter, not number

Wei-Wei has both beauty and brains. A computer goddess, she aspires to be an online game developer. In her spare time, she plays her favorite online game ‘A Chinese Ghost Story’- where she has made a name for herself as the top female player on the entire server.

After her online husband dumps her, she gets a message from legendary player Yixiao Naihe- asking to become her online husband (marriages in-game offer certain benefits and quest lines single players cannot achieve).

Little does Wei-Wei know that Yixiao Naihe is also her college senior and the most desired man on campus, Xiao Nai.

Will their online chemistry lead to a real-life romance? Yes. Of course it will. It’s in the title.

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Miss The Dragon

As a humble maid, Liu Ying never expected her life to be anything other than ordinary. Content with the world and her place in it, she spent her days tending to injured creatures and assisting her mistress Xia Hou Xue. But when Liu Ying finds an injured little snake and nurses it back to health, she has no idea how her life is about to change.

That little snake turns out to be a thousand year old Draong King named Yu Chi Long Yan. He falls in love with Liu Ying, and decides to repay her kindness by naming her as his queen.

And then Xia Hou Xue is captured by a wolf demon. Liu Ying flips the script- begging Yu Chi Long Yan to repay her kindness instead by rescuing her mistress and then keeping her safe for three lifetimes. Trapped by his word, Yu Chi Long Yan agrees to do so, though he secretly remains by Liu Ying’s side.

Now in her fourth lifetime, Liu Ying is reincarnated as Gu Qing Yan. She slowly becomes aware of his existence in her life- and her past lives as well. After waiting three lifetimes to be reunited with his lost love, Yu Chi Long Yan will fight with everything he has to keep her safe and get the Happily Ever After they should have had three thousand years ago.

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My Roommate is a Detective

Shanghai in 1925 is caught between gang leaders and the European powers colonizing China.

A resourceful young police officer named Qiao Chu Sheng is on the trail of a brutal but devious killer. Realizing that the police force will need some extra help with this difficult case, he decides to form an elite crime-busting detective team. He reaches out Lu Yao, a Cambridge graduate a slick con-man.

Qiao Chu Sheng has learned that Lu Yao has remarkable powers of deduction and a brilliant mind – and believes he can help crack this difficult case. To round off the team, he enlists the help of Bai You Ning, a focused young female reporter for a daily newspaper. A free-thinking, independent young woman, she has a strong sense of justice – and pledges to help catch the killer.

The trio form a small detective squad that specializes in solving strange and unsettling murder mysteries.

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Oh My Emperor

Fei-Fei, a young doctor, is wounded in an accident and finds herself trapped in the ancient and mystical nation of Huang Dao. The people of Huang Dao are ruled by a king born of the stars- the physical embodiment of one of the twelve zodiac constellations. To keep discord from arising among the people, the Twelve Zodiac Masters govern together to keep the peace.

But a thirteenth sign has been forcibly subjugated, it’s Lord executed, and its people scattered to the wind. The lost sign- Ophiuchus- is rising once more- and Fei-Fei is its (unwilling) Master.

It only complicates matters slightly that Fei-Fei finds herself between the handsome and charming Master of Aquarius and his nephew- the cold Master of Capricorn (who is also the Emperor). Can Fei-Fei keep her identity secret long enough to solve the mystery of the Ophiuchus purge- or is Huang Dao doomed to destruction?

**This drama is a showpiece for members of the Chinese pop group X-Nine, do not judge it by the same standards as a traditional drama. Showpiece dramas tend to be a bit silly.

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Reunion: The Sound of the Providence**

Wu Xie, “Fatty” Wang Pangzi, and the quasi-immortal tomb raider Xiao Ge (AKA Zheng Qiling, Kylin, and “Poker Face”) have faced many dangerous tombs together over the past twelve years.

Now, it is time for them to go on their last great adventure as the so-called “Iron Triangle” before Wu Xie sets off on the journey all must eventually make: death. He always thought his end would come in a dangerous tomb, but instead it will be lung cancer that claims his life. With only 3-4 months left to live, Wu Xie hides the truth of his illness from his friends and family, revealing the truth only to Xiao Ge.

Once upon a time, Wu Xie was told that when a man meets his death he must do so with a clear conscience. But something has been weighing on Wu Xie- his Third Uncle’s disappearance at the end of their first adventure. Right on time, a message from his long lost uncle appears, setting Wu Xie on a desperate mission to find him before the cancer eating away at his body destroys him at last.

This will most likely be Wu Xie’s final journey, but he will do anything in his power to make sure his friends and family will be safe long after his time is up. In the final 3-4 months of Wu Xie’s life he will seek to unravel the mystery of the “Thunder City”- starting with the most dangerous tomb he’s ever explored, The South Sea King’s Tomb.

The sound of thunder hides a secret men have killed for, but is there really a way to hear the words of gods within it? Someone clearly thought so, but who? Is Uncle Sanxing still alive, or is someone in the shadows guiding Wu Xie to them?

Wu Xie’s enemies thought he was dangerous before, but now he is a dying man with a mission. There is no telling what lengths he will go to in order to achieve his goals. He might just manage to die in a tomb after all…

** This recommendation is just the latest installment in an entire series of stories adapted from “The Gravedigger’s Notebook” and related novels::

The Lost Tomb (2015)

The Lost Tomb 2: Explore With the Note (2016)

Time Raiders (2016 movie)

The Mystic Nine (2016)

Tomb of the Sea (2018)

Reunion: The Sound of the Providence (2019-2020)

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The Romance of Tiger and Rose

Chen Xiao Qian has dedicated her life to making her dream of becoming a well-respected screenwriter come true. Standing on the production set of sweeping dramas she penned through endless blood, sweat, and tears, Xiao Qian can hardly believe what she is seeing: her work, come to life!

Except it isn’t a set. And her work truly has come to life.

Her script is a simple one: the heirs of two rival cities who seek to destroy one another enter into a doomed romance that will lead to endless betrayals and a war that will kill the male lead, Han Shuo.

There is just one problem- Xiao Qian wakes in the body of Han Shuo’s first wife on the day he will murder her! The only way for Xiao Qian to return to this world is to survive the story, but in keeping herself alive longer the script begins to change, and Han Shuo begins to fall in love with the wrong person.

At first it is easy for Xiao Qian to keep herself alive- just go along with the script! But the story wants to return to the original plot, which means characters who should be friends become enemies, enemies become friends, and Xiao Qian might not live long enough to find her way home.

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The Untamed

On the cliffs of the Nightless City, upon defeating his enemies in a bloody slaughter, the cruel and vicious Yiling Patriarch- Wei Wuxian- threw himself to his death.

Sixteen years later, he is resurrected by a madman and given a second chance to right what went so terribly wrong long ago. Wei Wuxian reunites with the honorable, righteous, and stern Lan Wangji- his confidant, soulmate, and best friend.

How can someone as upstanding as Lan Wangji befriend the monstrous and hated Yiling Patriarch? What turned the happy and popular Wei Wuxian into the man who slaughtered thousands at Nightless by weaponizing the souls of the dead?

And what terrible secret was Wuxian resurrected to unearth?

The past is not always what it seems, and there is no clean line between right and wrong.

**Don’t worry if you’re lost when the show starts, that is by design. Near the end of episode 2 the show will enter a 30 episode long flashback sequence to answer all questions.

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Well Intended Love (Season 1: Drama Version)

Seasons 1 and 2 of “Well Intended Love” feature the same stars playing the same characters, but the storylines are alternate-universes of one another telling the story from a different genre. Each season is wholly independent of one another.

A third-rate actress with leukemia becomes entangled with the handsome but cold CEO Ling.

In order to receive a bone marrow transplant and contniue her career as an actress, Xia Lin enters into a secret marriage with Ling Yi Zhou. Despite the conspiracies and misunderstandings they encounter, the two begin to find true love.

But one question nags at Xia Lin’s mind:: Why did the cold, controlling, and distant Ling YiZhou need her to play the role of wife?

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Well Intended Love (Season 2: Rom-Com Version)

Seasons 1 and 2 of “Well Intended Love” feature the same stars playing the same characters, but the storylines are alternate-universes of one another telling the story from a different genre. Each season is wholly independent of one another.

Rising TV superstar Xia Lin finds herself embroiled in scandal after a run-in with business mogul Ling Yizhou at a party. To clear up any misunderstandings the two prepare a joint press conference– where Xia Lin is stunned by Ling Yizhou’s statement that the two are- in fact- an engaged couple.

Ling Yizhou convinces Xia Lin to play fiancee for a period of one year, after which they can go their separate ways. To save face in front of her fans, Xia Lin agrees. She gradually begins to fall for the lovable and doting Ling Yizhou.

Someone works in the shadows to destroy everything Ling Yizhou holds dear- and the closer he gets to the heart of the conspiracy, the more he realizes Xia Lin may have a target on her back as well.

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Word of Honor // Faraway Wanderers

Zhou Zi Shu has served as the leader of Heaven’s Window for much of his life. A once righteous and honorable sect who acted as an elite Secret Service for the royal family, a corrupt prince has turned them into his personal assassin’s guild. With their oaths to Heaven’s Window as nooses around their throats, most of Zhou Zi Shu’s elders and friends have chosen death over continued service.

Wholly disillusioned, Zhou Zi Shu only wants to atone for the crimes he was forced to commit under his oaths to the prince. He endures the slow execution of Heaven’s Window- a process that sees seven nails inserted into the victim and ushers in a slow and painful death that takes three years to play out.

By gaming the system he helped create, Zhou Zi Shu manages to buy himself an extra year and a half of life to wander the world and wipe some of the blood from his slate.

In his wanderings, he is pulled into a conspiracy surrounding a young boy and meets a strange young man named Wen Ke Xing who sticks to him like glue. Zhou Zi Shu and Wen Ke Xing grow closer and closer throughout their journey to find a mysterious treasure that is rumored to give its owner unlimited power.

But just who is Wen Ke Xing? What is he really after? And most importantly of all- can Zhou Zi Shu really trust his new companion?

[bitchwhoreofastorm]

i could never be fucked to finish this one by giving it a proper intro also it’s about barfok and half of the dialogue is in dovahzul and no i’m not providing translations. in which kagrenac and barfok have a “conversation”

Bthamzel falls with a single note.

Kagrenac is not a warrior, and yet she had studied the phenomenon set before her extensively-- and so, when she heard of the siege of Bthamzel, she was well-prepared to take advantage of the singular opportunity she had been afforded. Though she is not a warrior, and has never seen battle, she arranges an expedition: she hires an emissary, a Dwemer who speaks the coarse tongue of Aldmeris, she gathers up her tools, and she sets off to greet the Nordic Warlord who’s been singing Veloth into ruin. 

[...]

She is not how Kagrenac expected her to be. First of all, Kagrenac, for some reason, expected her to be beautiful, but this isn't the case. The woman who comes to Kagrenac that day is homely, though by no means plain: she's thick of limb, ruddy-skinned, with pale grey eyes set wide in her face, and large, uneven teeth exposed unabashedly by her cheerful grin. Her dull yellow hair is pulled away from her face in a low, loose knot, unbraided; her clothing is plain to Kagrenac's eyes, but she must suppose that the white bearskin cape and engraved leather jerkin beneath it are considered elaborate, to the northmen's simple tastes. She is unaccompanied by any guard, Kagrenac sees at once-- she's entered the stronghold alone. 

She's barefooted, too, Kagrenac notices. Her toes are black with ash and leave prints on the smooth stronghold floor. 

She doesn't seem to notice Kagrenac at first; she's busy looking around herself, taking in the stronghold with her wide grey eyes and her toothy grin, pink tongue peeking out from between her uneven teeth. It's only when the emissary says something in the uncouth tongue of Aldmeris that she jerks her gaze to Kagrenac, and Kagrenac watches her thin eyebrows twitch upwards. 

Kagrenac speaks no Aldmeris, but she's already instructed the emissary on what to say: the usual titles, accolades, praises, the primitive words needed to make a Nord understand what an honour this meeting is. In truth, it's a little embarrassing that such an introduction is necessary, but Kagrenac's willing to take no risks, and the last thing she'd wanted was to make their guest feel insulted; however, as the emissary prattles on, she begins to feel more and more like she's wasted his breath. The Tongue is still looking around the stronghold, her toothy mouth hanging open and her silver eyes wide with curiosity. Kagrenac's eyes dart down to her bare feet again. Her grubby toes are curling into the shiny floor. 

The emissary finishes off his spiel with a question, and though the language is foreign to her, Kagrenac knows what he's asked. She knows, too, what it means when the Tongue looks to him, her slack mouth widening into a broad grin. 

"Barfok!" proclaims the Tongue, slapping her chest hard with the flat of her hand. 

Barfok. 

The emissary begins to prattle something else, and Kagrenac digs her nails into the hands which are clasped right behind her back. This is the part, she supposes, where Barfok will deliver her own titles. She supposes that Tongues will have titles, lofty and numerous titles. But Barfok seems content to be simply Barfok; she stands with her arms crossed, seemingly not listening to the emissary at all. Her gaze, still curious, now rests squarely on Kagrenac’s face, and Kagrenac cannot resist the challenge of staring into those pale silvery eyes. Barfok has brownish eyelashes, thin ones, and Kagrenac wonders whether the ashfall gets in her eyes.

“I’ve asked her where she’s from,” the emissary explains to Kagrenac, switching back to smooth Dwemeris. He says something else, in Aldmeris, to Barfok. 

Barfok glances at him, and replies in the same tongue. But then-- quite unexpectedly-- she ends her sentence with three familiar tones, “Laa laa laa,” sung out with a cheerful smile. 

“She says she is the ‘Jarl’ of ‘Narsis-hold’,” begins the emissary in Dwemeris, “She--” 

“Leave us,” orders Kagrenac. 

The emissary is startled, but when Kagrenac speaks, the Dwemer obey; he bows and departs, leaving the two of them alone in the hallway. 

Barfok stares at Kagrenac with her unsettling grin. Kagrenac gestures at her to follow, and escorts her to her study.

Kagrenac’s study in Sturdumz is a simple, temporary thing, but Barfok appears delighted nonetheless: the moment they enter it, she gasps and rushes forwards, running around the room and taking in everything with the wonder of a child. She says something in Aldmeris, excitedly, but Kagrenac, not knowing the language, pays her no attention; while Barfok runs about the study with an unabashed wonder that’s frankly perplexing to behold, Kagrenac pretends not to behold, and wanders to a nearby shelf. 

“Daar los?” The question catches Kagrenac’s ear, because that is certainly not Aldmeris she’s just spoken. When she turns around, Barfok is holding two tuning-forks, staring at Kagrenac with her unsettling grin. 

“Tuning-forks,” Kagrenac replies in Dwemeris. She walks over and gently takes them from Barfok’s grasp.

“Kagger-Shond,” Barfok repeats the Dwemeris word clumsily. She meets Kagrenac’s eyes, then, and, with an enthusiastic smile, points to Kagrenac’s chest. “Ahrk wo hin?” 

Kagrenac does not understand this question, so she remains quiet. 

A brief flicker of displeasure crosses Barfok’s expression, but then her eyes widen and she nods, her lips curling back into their perpetual smile. She takes a step back, extends one of her hands, and, with great gusto, smacks her sternum, creating a resounding thwack against the leather. “Zu’u los Barfok!” she says loudly. Then she points her finger at Kagrenac’s chest. “Wo los hin?”

“Kagrenac,” says Kagrenac slowly. 

“Kagrenac!” Barfok repeats after her, clearly pleased. Then she reaches up and tugs at one of her own blunt ears with one hand, and with the other thwacks her chest again. “Zu’u los bron. Koraav? Bron.” Then, quite rudely, she reaches out and pats Kagrenac on the chest. “Hi los Ogiim.” 

Kagrenac manages to refrain from reacting-- she might have been offended, had this not all posed a tempting little puzzle. She nods, slowly, and points up to one of her own pointed ears. “I am a Dwemer,” she says. “I am an… Ogiim.” 

“Hi los ogiim!” Barfok agreed enthusiastically. She points to herself again. “Ahrk zu’u los?” 

Even in a foreign tongue, it’s a good question: what is this strange creature, this force of nature prancing around Kagrenac’s study? 

“A roaring snow-throated King of Mora.” Kagrenac answers. She uses the poetic term for a Tongue, knowing that the foreigner would never be able to pronounce the Dwemeris.

Not that it deters her. “Kemmel Mule Shond…” Barfok begins, and then a broad grin splits her face once more. “Aka! Geh, Aka! Zu’u Aka? Aka los?” 

Kagrenac frowns, and, at a loss for other words, raises both hands and mimes a crown over her own head. 

This makes Barfok laugh, a loud indecorous laugh that causes her shoulders to shake and her eyes to crinkle. “Jun!” she says giddily, “Hi mindok aka los jun? Fah mu, Aka los dovah. Aka los bormah-se-alduin!” 

Seeing that Kagrenac is evidently lost, Barfok extends both arms in a pantomime of two wings flapping. “Aka! Dovah! Haha, mu los dovahhe, ahrk zu’u los zok dovah! Yol!’

She sings the last word, and a small lick of flame erupts from her thin lips at the sound of it. 

This time, Kagrenac cannot help but shudder and step back. The words are gibberish to her,  but she recognizes the tone of the word Barfok just sang, and its meaning is clear enough: fire. Before this the Tongue has seemed unrefined, foolish; now Kagrenac is reminded that Bthamzel, and all the people within it, has been vanished into thin air. 

Kagrenac closes her eyes as she steels herself, and when she opens them again she finds Barfok staring at her, frowning now. Kagrenac takes a deep breath-- looks to the shelf-- when she looks again, Barfok has not moved, and is still staring at her with her head cocked to the side. Waiting for Kagrenac to resume their game, no doubt. 

Kagrenac’s study contains many interesting objects, curios brought to her by aspiring acolytes hoping to earn her easily-lost attention. Kagrenac walks a slow circle around it, making a show of examining her collection, and all the while she feels Barfok’s gaze boring into her back.

She finally stops, selecting a glass eye from a shelf. This, said the apprentice who gifted it to her, was the eye of an Ayleid mage, pried from his resurrected corpse, bearing strange magic. Kagrenac holds the glinting blue object aloft and asks, in soft, careful words: “Daar los?” 

Barfok laughs aloud in delight. “Miin!” she replies. She points to both of her pale grey eyes, then, pulling down her lids to create a frightening expression. “Miinne. Dii miinne.” 

“Your miinne,” Kagrenac says to herself unthinkingly. 

“Thu’um?” asks Barfok, surprised. 

“Thua miinne,” Kagrenac corrects her. She points to her own eyes, and says, in slow, clear, Dwemeris: “Duum minne.” 

“Miiniil,” Barfok adds with a laugh, pointing to the glass eye in her hand.

Kagrenac places the eye down, and then takes from the shelf a small statuette, depicting a wolf. Plundered from the tomb of a Nordic king, if its original owner’s boasting was anything to go by. “Daar los?” she asks again.

“Grohiik,” replies Barfok. She uses her hands to mime a wolf’s jaws snapping open and shut. “Grohiik… du… hin!” At the last words she shoves her hands forwards, as if the wolf in her creation were devouring Kagrenac. Kagrenac does not flinch.

“Daar los?” This time Kagrenac picks up a single white bone. 

“Qeth,” Barfok says. 

Kagrenac takes a small Dwemeri device from the shelf. “Daar los?” she asked, with the ghost of a smile. 

“Vomindok--” Barfok begins, but then Kagrenac turns the key of the music-box. A cascade of airy notes tumbles out, light tinkling music running up and down a minor scale. 

There’s an expression on Barfok’s face that Kagrenac recognizes, only in theory, as religious rapture: this is no longer a game, and the Tongue’s expression is thoughtful, mesmerised, her eyes resting only on the music-box in Kagrenac’s hand. 

The tune ends after a moment. “Daar los…” Barfok begins softly. “Daar brii! Ah, tinvaak-- Daar lovaas.” She pauses. “Nid, nid-- lovaas los-- Lovaas los lovaas. Laa laa laa. Fahliille nid lovaas.” She shrugs and fixes Kagrenac with an apologetic grin. “Daar lost?” 

“Music,” Kagrenac says. Her namesake.

Barfok’s eyes widen. “Kagren? Hi los Kagren-Aka?” 

Kagrenac nods. On the shelf is another Dwemeri device, a small listening-frame constructed of thin ebony beams, and she picks it up, takes away the damper that stops it from soaking in vibrations. It begins to hum noiselessly in her hand and she places it back down.

Barfok crosses her arms, watching Kagrenac walk to the desk, where sits her most treasured possession: a small array of bells, fifteen in all. 

She strikes the first violet bell and a single clear tone rings out across the study.

“Daar los?” Kagrenac asks above the lingering sound.

Barfok’s expression is unreadable, and her answer is slow: “Dibela.”

Kagrenac strikes the second bell, brass. 

“Stuhn,” replies Barfok. 

The third bell. “Tsun,” Barfok says. 

The fourth, scarlet. “Fus.”  

The fifth tone, amber. “Qoth.”

The sixth, crimson. “Sahqon,” Barfok says softly, and Kagrenac glances towards the listening-frame on the shelf. 

The seventh note. “Fey.”

The eighth, ninth, tenth, eleventh; rose-gold, amaranth, rust and gold in dazzling array. “Shul,” says Barfok. “Feim, tiid, yol.”

The twelfth tone, ebony; Barfok’s expression becomes grim. “Sos.” 

The thirteenth tone is white-noise, and difficult to hear, but Barfok inclines her head and answers, “Od.” 

The fourteenth tone, ocean-blue, heavy and liquid in the air. “Herma-Mora,” Barfok names it.

Kagrenac strikes the final bell, sky, and Barfok closes her eyes briefly. “Kyne.”

A heavy silence descends between them, in which Kagrenac places down the rod she’s used to strike each bell. She walks over to her listening-frame and goes to replace the damper, but, to her surprise, Barfok cries out a word she doesn’t catch, halting her. 

Kagrenac turns to face her guest, as Barfok looks around the room. Agitated, she walks to Kagrenac’s desk and then, with the flats of her palms, strikes the desk hard, as if pounding a drum. “Ok qethsegol,” she says, bewildered. She strikes the desk in a slow rhythm, like a beating heart. “Mansedaan,” she says to Kagrenac, turning to her again, now striking her own chest a few times in that same rhythm, over the heart. “Mansedaan.” 

The sixteenth tone, Kagrenac thinks.

“Shor,” Barfok says, with a thin smile. 

Kagrenac nods, and reaches for the listening-frame-- only for Barfok to walk over and grab her hand. Barfok has broad hands, the palms surprisingly soft, with short chewed fingernails and a small tangle of scars over the fingers like lace. She leans forwards, placing her lips near the listening-box, takes a deep breath, and sings out: “Meyz feim Shor.”

Reality shudders around them, and then ash begins to fall. Kagrenac looks up and sees that the roof is gone from above their heads, as if it was never there all; indeed, as Kagrenac stares up at the grey sky, she finds it hard to imagine that there was ever a roof on the stronghold, so perfectly has it disappeared. 

Barfok squeezes her hand and steps back just as the alarmed emissary barges into their study. He begins yelling about their missing roof, but Kagrenac silences him with a gesture; Barfok, still wearing her cheerful expression, has skipped back and is standing near the wall. 

“Tonal Architect!” cries the emissary, as Kagrenac replaces the damper on her listening-frame. “Our stronghold roof-- it’s utterly disappeared-- how dare that Northman!” And then he shouts something in Aldmeris at Barfok. 

Barfok only laughs at him, and then turns to Kagrenac and bows. “Wuld na kest,” she sings out-- and with that she vanishes entirely, leaving the apoplectic emissary and Kagrenac standing in the steady fall of ash. 

“Meyz feim Shor,” Kagrenac murmurs to herself. She looks to the Emissary. “Are you finished?”

“The amount of time it will take to repair the Stronghold--” says the emissary, flustered. 

“We’re not repairing it,” Kagrenac says. She lifts the listening-frame from the shelf and places it securely into one of the deep pockets of her robe. “I’ve obtained what I needed here. Have Sturdumz placed into hibernation; we shall depart for Vvardenfell tomorrow.”

[crashdevlin]

Intense

One Night at a Time Masterlist

Author’s Note: Part seven of One Night at a Time series.

Summary: Y/n is trying to move on after Dean gets sent to Purgatory. She's hunting nonstop to outrun the questions in her head...what does she do when Dean shows up after more than a year?

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Benny x Reader (kinda)

Word count: 3575

Story Warnings:  mentions of harm to reader, mentions of scars, poor self-esteem, angst, Dean being Dean (a bit of a jerk),  18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, rough sex, creampie

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I should have been there, closer, beside him when he stabbed Dick Roman and sent him back to Purgatory. I should have stopped Crowley from getting his hands on Kevin. I should have done something more than just stand there while everything fell apart.

And I tried, you know? I tried to find another way into Purgatory. I tried for months to get Dean back. But it was useless. I was useless. Useless to Dean and Kevin and Sam, but not useless on a hunt. I’ve always been at my best on a job.

So I go back to hunting. Vamps and ghosts and this shifter in Utah...a few demons here and there. I jump from job to job, catching a few that aren’t even monsters because as soon as I slow down, my brain goes to Dean. Missing him, yes. Missing him with everything in me, but also...he might have liked me, but...he never said he dreamed of me until after Castiel fixed my scars. He never got nervous about sleeping with me when I had the scars. He was a bit of an asshole to me, actually.

So I hunt. To avoid questions that plague me that don’t even matter anymore, I hunt.

I haven’t heard from Sam in over a year. He’s not on the radar. He’s not hunting. I guess that’s better, leaves more jobs for me.

I get wind of a vampire sighting in Clayton, Louisiana. No body drop, just someone saying they saw a fanger, but I check it out anyway. I have to do something to keep my mind busy.

I go the normal route, bars and nightclubs are generally the way you find a fang, but there’s not a lot in that area in Clayton. One bar full of blue collar boys and no nightclubs. Still no bodies. I head to a local park overlooking a lake and sit on a small wooden bench. There’s something interesting about cypress trees sticking out of the water, Spanish moss hanging from the branches. It’s not pretty, not in any conventional way, but it is at the same time.

“You not from aroun’ here, are you?” a man says, moving to sit next to me on the bench.

I turn to look at him. A blue-eyed man with a light beard and a hat. He’s not quite the swamp-dwelling men I found at the bar. “What makes you say that?”

“Just got a feelin’ about you. Says you’s a traveler. You got a nomad look,” he says, smiling brightly.

I smile and nod. “Yeah. You could say that. I’ve been pretty much everywhere.”

“I used to do a lotta sailin’, so I been around a few times. Sometimes, I think I can sense people with an envie to roam. Mus’ be what drew me ta you.” He smiles at me again and I chuckle.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the fact that I was a weirdo staring at the water? Didn’t come over here to check me into a mental hospital or something?” I ask, smirking.

“Nah. Pretty lady with her head lost in the cypress? Nothin’ wrong wit’ dat.”

I feel my cheeks heat up and look away toward the trees again. “Thank you.”

“No problem, cher. I’m Benny.”

“Y/n,” I respond, offering my hand. He takes it and kisses the knuckles. His lips are a bit cold, but it’s pretty cool for August.

“Well, iss real nice meetin’ you, Y/n. You gonna be around town a few days?” he asks. Is he flirting with me?

“Maybe. The ‘envie to roam’ might kick up real soon.” Might not be anything here and I have to find a job soon. I have to find a distraction.

“Well, if you don’t roam before tonight, I could buy you a drink?”

I lick my bottom lip between my teeth and nod. What better way to look inconspicuous on a vamp hunt than to have drinks with a handsome man? “That’d be nice, Benny. I’ll meet you at the bar at 7?”

“I’d like that.”

He’d like that. Why would he? Why did he even want to talk to me?

I go anyway. He buys us beers. He's charming and funny, down to earth but not simple. I don't know if it's the quaint Louisiana backwoods of him or what, but he seems like a man out of time. Which should have been the first clue, but my Spidey-sense doesn't go off until he walks me to my car and leans in to kiss me.

It's nice and he's an amazing kisser, but the fact that he's kissing me?

My mind goes to Marco.

I whisper 'Cristo' when he pulls away, but he doesn't flinch, just looks at me a bit odd. "I didn't think I was that good a kisser you gotta call for the Lord, cher."

I nod and smile tightly. "Right. Uh...I had a nice night, Benny. You've got my number. Text me sometime," I ramble out a bit before I slide into my driver's seat and peel out of the parking lot. He must be the fang I'm looking for. Only explanation. It's the only reason he'd flirt with me, kiss me, why his lips were cold. Trying to get me alone so he can drink me or turn me.

I'll set a trap, get some dead man's blood, confirm what he is...Benny's big so maybe I should have some backup but at the end of the day, he's just one vamp and I've taken down bigger.

I'm trying to figure out a way to get some dead man's blood in this nowhere town when there's a knock on my motel door. I grab my gun and approach, looking through the peephole. I almost drop my gun.

Dean Winchester, or something that looks like him, is standing at my door.

“Open the door, Y/n!” It knows my name. “And put the piece away. You can test me as soon as you open up.”

It can’t be him. It can’t but...if anyone could claw his way back…

I open the door and stare blankly at him for a minute. “You...can’t...be.”

He smiles and steps inside. “You got some borax, holy water, silver knife?” I just stare for another few moments. “Okay, well, I got the knife,” he says, pulling out a knife I recognize and slicing it across his arm.

“How are you here?” I whisper.

“Long story,” he says, wrapping a handkerchief around his arm. “Borax?”

I swallow and rush to my duffel bag. After I splash him with cleaner and holy water, I hand him a towel. “It’s really you?”

“Yeah. It’s really me.” He sets the towel aside and licks his lips, grimacing at the taste of the borax. “I was sad when Sammy told me he hadn’t seen you all year.”

I shrug and look away. “I was keepin’ busy...he wasn’t.”

“How busy?” he asks.

“Busy enough.” Had a lot on my mind.

“Sam retired. You hear about that?”

“I assumed. He dropped off the face of the earth and left all the good cases for me.” I sit on the edge of the bed and look at my feet.

“He was in Texas.” He moves to stand over me, looking down. “You been hunting by yourself again?”

“Nothing new, Dean.” I shake my head. “The only time I wasn’t hunting solo was the few months I was with you and Sam. I’m good without backup.”

“But Sam shouldn’t have abandoned you to go play house with some chick in-”

“Does it really matter?” I look up and sigh. “He deserved a break.”

“No, he didn’t! I was in Purgatory and he just quit. At least you kept fighting.”

“I didn’t really have a choice.” I clear my throat and bite my bottom lip. "So you got out."

"Yep. I did."

"How'd you find me?" I ask.

"Friend found you for me...not that he was really looking." He clicks his tongue against his teeth and clears his throat. "So Sam and I just got done doin’ a wolf case in Michigan...got a few days probably...unless you got something-”

“I’m on a fang. If you wanted to-”

“How many victims?” he asks, a little too quickly.

“Well, none but someone I trust saw the thing. Just because they haven’t killed anyone yet doesn’t mean-”

“Y/n.” He grabs my chin and tilts my face up to look at him. He’s still so beautiful but there’s something primal in his eyes. “No body means no monster. You don’t need to be here.”

“I’m s-sure there’s a...there was this guy, B-Benny, he-”

“No, babe.”

“Guys don’t give me attention unless they have a motive, Dean.” I pull away from him and his eyes narrow at me and a chill goes down my spine. Not a good one, though. I’m fucking scared...of Dean. That primal look in his eyes is terrifying and I’ve faced down a lot scarier shit than him.

“Motive? What’s that supposed to-” His jaw ticks as he steps close and crowds me a bit. “You’re back on your bullshit about people not liking you, aren’t you?”

“I don’t get attention, Dean. Benny is just Marco part two.”

“Marco was sent after you, Y/n. Benny just found you.”

“Or I found him! Maybe he’s the one I was here looking for and-”

Dean reaches out and grabs my hair, making me gasp. “Benny is not your concern. No one’s died. You’re after nothing,” he practically growls at me.

“Okay!” I squeak and it’s pathetic...but he’s scaring the fuck outta me. What the hell? What happened to him while he was gone? “There’s nothing here.”

He lets go of my hair and sighs. “Why don’t you pack up and we’ll go meet up with Sam?”

“Dean...I don’t-”

“Y/n.” There’s a warning in his tone and I look away from him.

“Fine. Can we stay here tonight? I’m kinda exhausted.” I don’t wanna go anywhere with him acting like this. Maybe he’ll be less scary in the morning. Unlikely.

He sighs again, obviously annoyed with me, but he nods and pulls his jacket off. He tosses it at the chair in the corner and flops down onto the bed, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call Sam. Let him know.”

I nod and move to the other side of the bed, lying down and turning onto my side away from him.

All the questions I was running from, working to hide from, they all come flooding back as Dean settles into the bed with me. The questions bring friends. Why is he here? Why would he come here? Who found me for him? Why did he want me found? And why’s he being an asshole again?

Not just an asshole, but a scary asshole. And I don’t think I want to hunt with him like this. I’m uncomfortable. I’m anxious. I’m confused. I’m...sneaking out of bed while he sleeps and getting out of Louisiana. I’ll call Sam when I get some miles between me and Dean. I just can’t do this right now.

I know he hates it when I leave without saying ‘goodbye’ so I leave a note.

Then I leave. I make it to a convenience store in Meridian, Mississippi before I have to stop. I get bad mileage in this old car. I set the pump and head inside, grabbing a case of beer and a hand basket full of snacks. I drop them in the backseat and go around to the restrooms, hoping for something clean-ish. I push open the door, but I haven’t stepped into the room when a hand covers my mouth and I get forced into the room.

“Don’t fuckin’ scream.” It’s Dean. Fuck. At least the bathroom’s clean, I’m not grossed out when he presses me into the wall with his body. “The fuck do you think you’re doin’?”

He pulls his hand away from my mouth and I take a deep breath. “You’re scaring me, Dean,” I whisper.

“Oh, I’m scaring you?” he snaps, grabbing my shoulder and twisting me around to face him. His eyes are wild and full of rage. “You know I hate it when you disappear on me. You didn’t even stick around an hour before you left this time! Ya know, you’re always worried about how people don’t like you, but you’re the one that’s not givin’ anyone a chance to get close.”

“Dean, you’re being a dick. Why would I stick around when you’re scaring me?” My voice is squeaky, my body almost shaking. I can face monsters any day of the week, but I’m shaking over this man.

His face softens, his eyes losing a bit of their edge, and I think he’s gonna step back from me for a moment, but he doesn’t. He steps closer, leans his head down, hovers his lips over mine. Suddenly, I’m feeling a tingling lust between my thighs on top of the fearful shaking in my limbs. “Wasn’t tryin’ to be a dick, baby,” he whispers, his breath warming my lips. “Just spent a year in Purgatory. Came back a little...intense.”

“That’s an understatement.” My head’s getting a little dizzy as my heart thuds in my chest.

“Spent all that time missin’ you, wanting you, dreaming of burying my cock in your tight little cunt.” I gasp as he grabs my waist with one hand and braces himself against the wall next to my head with the other. “Intense isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Y/n.”

"Dean," I whimper. I want him. I always want him, but hearing those words...that he was thinking of me… "Why would you miss me?"

He rolls his eyes, and it's this aggressive thing that chills me. "You gotta stop this shit. I spent all those months buildin' you up, showin' you how much I appreciate you and all that work I put in...it's just gone?"

"Why?" I whisper before I can stop myself. His eyebrows come together and I close my eyes. "I'm not...worth...any-"

'Shut it!" he growls and I jolt against him, eyes opening and finding his. "You are worth everything I could ever fuckin' give you. I put the effort in because you deserve it, because I need you, Y/n. The last year of my life has been death and destruction, and fear and adrenaline, and the only thing that kept me going was the thought of makin' it back here to you and my brother. You're like family.”

‘Family’. I’m like...needs me? He-

I lean forward and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. My brain’s not working right, I’m overwhelmed and confused, but my body knows what I want. He groans and presses me harder into the wall, pushing my shirt up and grabbing my breasts over the bra. He drops his hands to the front of my jeans, popping open the button and sliding his hand into my underwear to cup my mound.

I suck his tongue into my mouth as he starts fingering me. He’s going a little rougher than he used to. That scary primal energy is translating into something...so sexy. “Oh, god,” I whisper as he works two fingers against my inner walls. “Shit! Dean, fuck!”

“You make the prettiest fuckin’ noises.” His voice rumbles in my ear, makes me clench around his fingers. “You gonna cum on my fingers, baby?”

I whine and grind against his fingers. I’m so close. God, he’s so good at making me feel good. “I’m gonna--Dean, I’m gonna--Don’t stop!”

“I’m gonna make you cum ‘til you can’t fuckin’ stand it, Y/n,” he promises, pressing the heel of his palm into my clit. I squeal as my toes curl in my shoes and my orgasm crashes over me. I don’t even have a chance to get my wits about me before he’s spun me around and pushed me over the sink. He yanks my pants down to my boots, but he tears my panties off. I hold back the shriek that wants to bubble up as the cotton rips at the sides. He starts sucking at the skin of my neck, digging his teeth into my shoulder as he fumbles with his belt and jeans. He knocks my knees apart and leans over me, sliding his cock along my slit a few times before he slides in all at once.

“Dean!”

He’s rough, fucks me hard, digs his fingertips into my waist, my boobs, my thighs. He bites into my shoulder through my shirt, punches air out of my lungs with each thrust. He moves a hand between my thighs to pluck at my clit and I scream as I cum again, but he’s not done. He’s making good on his promise to make me cum ‘til I can’t stand it, definitely ‘til I can’t stand, because my legs are shaking and weak, the sink is the only thing holding me up as he keeps going. How is he still going?

“Dean, please! I need--I need you--”

“What’d’you need?”

“Need to feel you fill me up,” I whimper. Oh, that’s stupid. I’m not on the pill. But why is it so hot?

He hisses and kisses my jaw and pinches my clit. “One more, Y/n. Gimme one more.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” he demands. He sucks my earlobe into his mouth and nibbles on it, rolls my clit between his thumb and first finger. “Cum for me, one more time, cowgirl.” He moves faster, fucks me hard and plays with my clit more and I cum screaming into the mirror over the sink. “Good girl.” He moves his hand away from my clit and braces it against our reflection. He hammers into me, lasts another few thrusts before his breath catches as he cums, his cock twitching as he gasps in pulls of air. “Fuck. That was...so worth it.”

I don’t disagree. Fuck.

He pulls out, holds me up as he fixes his clothes, then moves to fix mine. He caresses my cheek and leans in to kiss me passionately. I’m a bit breathless when he pulls away. Intense. He’s definitely...intense.

“You changed,” I whisper. “Purgatory changed you.”

“Of course it did,” he responds, licking his lips. “But what are you, specifically, referring to?”

I look away. His eyes are too green, too hypnotic. “You were gentle before you left...almost awkward with me after Castiel made me kinda...pretty again?” I don’t know why that turned into a question.

“You were always pretty.” He bites his bottom lip and sighs. “Last time we were here, when you gave me your motel key...I was gentle then too, right? And that was way before Cas healed you. You’re right that I wasn’t awkward then, but I wasn’t tryin’ to build a relationship back then.”

My eyes go wide. “Relationship?” I squeak.

“Well, duh.” He seems amused by my shock. “What’d you think this was, Y/n? An extended one night stand?”

I shake my head. “I...I, um...relationship? What kind of-”

He shrugs and leans against the wall he originally pushed me into. “Why we gotta label it? It’s...I mean, I like you. You like me. We like bein’ around each other. We like fuckin’ each other.”

“Oh, for a second I thought you might be saying something real,” I snap. Thought he might want something like he had with...never mind. “You’re right. Why label what I mean to you?”

He rolls his eyes and sighs. “You comin’ with me or not?” he asks.

I swallow and bite the edge of my tongue. “Yeah. I guess. Since you chased me off from Clayton.”

He licks his lips. “Full disclosure, babe...there was a vamp in Clayton. Benny. Benny was a vamp, but he really approached you just because he thought you were hot and he’s not bad. Dude’s practically vegan.”

My eyes go wide. “I was right? And you know him?”

“It’s a long story,” he says again. “I met him in Purgatory. He helped me stay alive, helped me get free. Like I said, he’s a good guy and he hasn’t been a danger since before he got sent to Purgatory, okay?”

I blink at him a few times. “You…”

“Look, he’s the whole reason I knew where to find you, so you should be thankin’ him for callin’ me.”

“Wh--how’d he even know who I was?” I ask.

“Recognized you from my description.”

“You talked about me? To a...some fang?”

He steps close to me again. “I missed you. So I talked about you. So he recognized you and he called me.” He bites his bottom lip and reaches out to touch my cheek again. “Label or not...you’re important to me. Benny knows that.”

I lick my lips. “Okay...I guess?”

“I’ll tell Sam we’re comin’.” He starts to walk away but he stops at the bathroom door. “Don’t tell Sam about Benny. Please. Not yet. He’s not...we’re still gettin’ our footing. Please.”

I nod and push off from the sink. “Guess he doesn’t need to know yet.”

“Awesome. Let’s get out of here.” He reaches out and I take his hand and he pulls me out of the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Kitchen Sink - @emoryhemsworth​ @flamencodiva​ @wasabiwitteks​ @rainbowkisses31​ @rissbennett @mariekoukie6661​ @officiallyunofficialperson​ @dolphincliffs​ @mrs-meghan-winchester​ @gayspacenerd​ @foxyjwls007​ @ilovefanfic86​ @marvelfansworld​ @f-yeahfandoms​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @hhiggs​ @sev3nruby​  @hobby27​ @paintballkid711​ @divadinag​ @thewhiterabbit42​ @fantasymyth-1 @queenoftheunderdark​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @superfanficnatural​ @letsby​ @supernatural-bellawinchester​ @onethirstyunicorn​ @swinchester27​ @chalicia​ @sunnyroadtrips​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @death-unbecomes-you​ Hunter Tags - @atc74​ @sandlee44​ @spnbaby-67​ @kalesrebellion​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @hoboal87​ @stoneyggirl​ @kbl1313​ @cookiechipdough​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @winchesterxfamilybusiness​ @holylulusworld​ @pretty-fortune​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​ @imperiusimpala​ Gaga For Green Eyes Tags- @typicalweirdbookworm​ @deanmonandnegansbitch​ @jadesupernatural​ @stoneyggirl​ @4fareader​ @squirrelnotsam​ @lyarr24​ @akshi8278​ @pretty-fortune​ @we-are-all-a-bunch-of-idjits​

[alyrae13]

Gold Saints and Bronze Cloths Part 1

Ok, so since I’ve done the silver cloths for the Gold Saints, it’s only fair that I do something similar for the bronze cloths. 

Now this is in two parts again because I need more time trying to figure out what bronze cloths go with Dohko, Alde and Kanon, so please don’t be angry with me. 

Also, like the silver cloth posts, I’ll just be putting the Gold Saint’s name next to the name of a bronze cloth.

With that being said, behold!

Capricorn Shura = Dragon Cloth ----- Aquarius Camus = Cygnus Cloth ----- Gemini Saga = Pegasus Cloth ----- Cancer Deathmask = Hydra Cloth ----- Pisces Aphrodite = Andromeda Cloth ----- Leo Aiolia = Lionet Cloth ----- Scorpio Milo = Wolf Cloth ----- Sagittarius Aiolos = Bear Cloth ----- Aries Mu = Unicorn Cloth ----- Virgo Shaka = Phoenix Cloth

Just to note here, some of my decisions were a mix of personality traits, relation to the bronze saint and if the myth tied to the cloth fits in some way. Honestly this was far more difficult to do than the silver cloths so I did my best.

[elencelebrindal]

Give us an update list of your awakening saints?

Sure! I got quite a lot of them these past months, so my collection finally increased. Following the codex:

Bronze Saints

Chameleon June ✓ lvl 70 Unicorn Jabu ✓ lvl 60 Cassiopea Erda ✓ lvl 60 Northern Crown Katya ✓ lvl 70 Phoenix Ikki ✓ lvl 60 Hydra Ichi ✓ lvl 60 Adromeda Shun ✓ lvl 60 Cygnus Hyoga ✓ lvl 60 Dragon Shiryu ✓ lvl 60 Ursa Minor Xiaoling ✓ lvl 60 Wolf Nachi ✓ lvl 60 Sextans Luna ✓ lvl 70 Bear Geki ✓ never upgraded Lionet Ban ✓ lvl 40 Delphinus Mii ✓ never upgraded Pegasus Seiya ✓ lvl 60

Silver Saints

Lyra Orphée ✓ lvl 70 Pavo Mayura ✓ lvl 70 Perseus Algol ✓ lvl 60 Crane Yuzuriha ✓ lvl 60 Cepheus Daidalos ✓ lvl 40 Crow Jamian ✓ lvl 70 Eagle Marin ✓ lvl 80 Lizard Misty ✓ never upgraded Ophiuchus Shaina ✓ lvl 60 Whale Moses ✓ never upgraded Sagitta Ptolemy ✓ never upgraded Cerberus Dante ✓ never upgraded Hound Asterion ✓ never upgraded Centaurus Babel ✓ never upgraded

Gold Saints

Scorpio Milo ✓ RC lvl 80 Leo Aiolia ✓ lvl 70 Gemini Saga ✓ RC lvl 80 Sagittarius Aiolos ✓ lvl 70 Gemini Kanon ✓ lvl 80 Libra Dohko ✓ lvl 70 Virgo Shijima ✗ Cancer Deathmask ✓ RC lvl 80 Pisces Aphrodite ✓ RC lvl 80 Virgo Shaka ✓lvl 70 Taurus Aldebaran ✓ lvl 60 Aquarius Camus ✓RC lvl 80 Capricorn Shura ✓ lvl 70 Aries Mu ✓ lvl 70 Cancer Deathtoll ✗

Legendary

Hypnos ✓ lvl 70 Hades ✓ RC lvl 80 Goddess Athena ✓ lvl 70 Poseidon ✓ lvl 70 Artemis ✗ Thanatos ✓ lvl 70 Ophiuchus Odysseus ✓ lvl 80 Evil Saga ✓ lvl 70 Divine Cloth Hyoga ✓ lvl 70 Divine Cloth Shiryu ✓ lvl 70 Pandora ✓ lvl 70 Divine Cloth Aiolia ✓ lvl 70 Divine Cloth Shun ✓ lvl 70 Pandora Commander ✗ Underworld Shun ✓ lvl 70 Divine Cloth Seiya ✓ lvl 80 Arayashiki Shaka ✓ lvl 70 Surplice Shion ✓ lvl 70 Golden Arrow Seiya ✓ lvl 60 Grand Pope ✓ lvl 60 Aries Shion ✓ lvl 70 Divine Cloth Ikki ✓ lvl 80 Divine Cloth Milo ✓ lvl 80 almost maxed out completely Nebula Shun ✓ lvl 70 Gold Hyoga ✓ lvl 70 Saori Kido ✓ lvl 60 Firebird Ikki ✓ lvl 40 Outrage Shiryu ✓ lvl 60

Marina

Sea Dragon Kanon ✓ lvl 60 Siren Sorrento ✓ lvl 60 Krishna Chrysaor ✓ lvl 60 Lymnades Kayza ✓ never upgraded Scylla Io ✓ lvl 60 Seahorse Baian ✓ lvl 40 Kraken Isaac ✓ lvl 70 Mermaid Thetis ✓ never upgraded

Specter

Sphinx Pharaoh ✓ lvl 70 Balrog Lune ✗ Garuda Aiacos ✓ lvl 70 Griffon Minos ✓ lvl 70 Papillon Myu ✓ lvl 70 Wyvern Rhadamanthys ✓ lvl 70 Alraune Queen ✗ Cyclops Giganto ✓ lvl 40 Harpy Valentine ✗ :( Frog Zelos ✓ never upgraded Worm Raimi ✓ never upgraded Deep Niobe ✓ lvl 40

Other

These are small secondary characters, so I'm only mentioning the ones I'm missing: Young Shiryu (upsetting, because I have all the other ones) Seika (I could have gotten her, but I had to take a break and lost her shards)

[joneryskingdom]

Ok so the Targlings in my fic right now are:

Rhaella (20) previously heir to the throne but she left it in charge to her brother for love and for her passions for boats and navy things. Married to Robb Baratheon, heir of Storm’s End and son of her aunt Arya. She got her Papa’s black curls and her Mama’s sparkle purple eyes. She’s bold, a tomb-boy, love her sword Dark Sister (which was found by Tormund beyond the Wall and returned the it’s Targaryen owners) and ships. Currently pregnant with Robb’s first child.

Aemon (19) heir to the throne and Prince of Dragonstone, previously Prince of Summerhall. A melancholic, brooding, chivalrous and galant prince, has almost the same personality of his grandfather/uncle Rhaegar, except that he can be also solar and funny when he wants. Devoted to his family and friends, he’s a annointed knight. He got his Mama’s silver-gold hair and his Papa’s grey eyes. Dany jokes that when he broods he is identical to his father. Currently married to his sister Aelionor and father of baby prince Aegon and another coming soon babe. He is the Master of Coin.

Daeron (17) Prince of Summerhall and twin to Alysanne. He shares with his twin the divine valyrian features of their mother. Previously a novice at the Citadel, he discovered the maesters conspiracies towards his family and bringed the order to its end. Now he is married to Alysanne and is working on Westeros educational and medical sistem (which his parents have already improved). He’s a bookworm and quiet boy, not brilliant in swords and tournaments as Aemon or Jae.

Alysanne (17) Princess of Summerhall, wife and twin of Daeron and shares with him their mother’s valyrian features. She’s courageous and never afraid of reveling what she’s thinking. She loves every animal, especially horses and dragons. When she was a child Jon bought her a cow at an harvest feast (because Jon is soft with his princesses) and from then on “Mucca-Mu” is her best friend and resides in the finest area of the royal stables. She plays the arp like her grandfather.

Jaehaerys (16) soon to be the governor of the Essos’ provinces and Khal of the Great Grass Sea, he is Jon’s clone, having the same features of his Papa, his curly black hair and grey eyes. He is the family bad boy, loves feast and wine and brothels, but he will soon stop all of this for the love of his sister and soon to be wife Daenys.

Aelionor (15) Sister-Wife of Aemon, has her mother’s valyrian appearance but her eyes are a soft lilac. She’s sweet and gentle, loves all the frilly ladylike things such as dresses, embroidery, jewel and so on. Mother to Aegon and the baby she’s currently bearing. She married Aemon in a secret ceremony on Dragonstone like Jaehaerys and Alysanne.

Daenys (13) Soon to be wife of Jaehaerys, she receives mystical visions from R’hllor since early age, but she covers her devotion and love for him with a false devotion to the Seven. Her beauty is similar to the one of queen Naerys, a frail, delicate and ethereal little thing with purple almond eyes and silver-gold hair, pearly skin and destined to be the new Dreamer of her generation. She can communicate with her ancestors and reads the other’s soul.

Gaemon (11) also got valyrian appearance, he is Sir Podrick’s squire and emulates Aemon in everything, he can be impulsive and vivacious and he is best friend of his sister Visenya.

Visenya (10) she inherited her father’s wild black curls and grey eyes. Both the blood of the wolf and the dragon are strong in her, being she wild, untamed, strong. She dreams of becoming a female knight like Ser Brienne, her idol, and brings everywhere a wooden swords with her. Hates lessons and loves dragons.

Lyaenys (8) twin sister of Naelya, another one born with valyrian features. She is strong headed and can’t control her tongue, together with Vis and Nene (Naelya) she forms the “Big Trio.” different from the “Little Trio” formed by her three little siblings.

Naelya (8) twin sister of Lyaenys and shares the divine appearance of her Valyrian heritage. She is naive, extremely shy and scares of strangers, but when you know her better she can be spontaneously sweet. She thinks she lacks of her sisters grace but this isn’t true. Her name honors both Ned Stark and Lyanna.

Jaegon (6) a joyful little boy of six, carring the valyrian beauty of his ancestors and curly golden-blonde hair like his Papa. He cannot sit still and needs to move, loves climbing and making pranks as his brother Jaehaerys was as a kid.

Aenar (5) twin of Shaena, another one born carring the blood of Old Valyrian mixed with his father curly hair just like Jaegon. He is the most gentle, docile and calm off all the royal children.

Shaena (5) twin of Aenar, identical to him, her name honors the sea that her mother loves so much and she love it too. Swimming on the beaches under the Red Keep is for her as fun as riding a dragon.

Baby number 16 is coming soon and another baby needs a mention: little Prince Rhaegar, stillborn and secondborn of the royal couple, who would have purple eyes, silver-gold hair with a black streak.

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

Stripper with a Heart of Gold

Spike x Reader, BTVS

Warnings: minor spoilers for S5, cursing, PG-13 action but nothing else.

Description: Spike promised you he’d get the money, so he picks up a job. You’re out with your coworkers when you catch him in the middle of his shift at the Sunnydale Strip. It’s more than a little awkward.

Clearly, I have a thing for bad boys who offer financial security 😫

When you come in for the night, Spike’s waiting. He’s been slipping twenties in your pocket lately like you wouldn’t notice (who else but Giles has that kind of cash?) and you haven’t brought it up despite your guilt. You really need the help. Keeping the three people in your household fed + all of your frequent visitors is expensive, especially because Buffy burns through so many calories daily. Plus the water bill, the electric bill, and all of the crazy damages that you have to somehow try to budget for in your monthly expenses...

Tonight he follows you up to your bedroom while the girls are downstairs watching TV and closes the door behind you.

“Spike, if you think—”

There’s a huge wad of cash in the hand he holds out to you. For a moment, you can only blink at it, mystified.

“Take it. It’s for you.”

You reach out for it as if in a trance, then recoil like you’ve touched something scalding.

“I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but I can’t accept this,” you say, but it comes out quiet and not at all assertive.

“I want you to have it.”

There’s a little furrow between his eyebrows that deepens when you pull away. He doesn’t understand you. He’s seen you at the diner, working yourself to the bone, plastering on a smile for all of the customers even when they cross a line. You hate it there, but you do it for the money. Now he’s offering you enough to get through the whole month, as long as there are no surprise visitors, and you won’t take it.

“I don’t like to be indebted to anyone.” You’re shaking slightly from exhaustion and the unexpected gift, so you lower yourself onto your bed and clasp your hands in your lap.

“No, you’re worried about where I got it from. Isn’t that right, pet?” He sits down next to you, placing the money on your nightstand and patting it twice. “There. Now it’s passive. You don’t have to take anything, I just left you an early birthday present.”

“Spike.”

“I got a job, all right?” He turns your face to his, examines the bags under your eyes. “You’re not the only one with a work ethic around here.”

“I can’t support you going back into smuggling. Or gambling. Or—”

“It’s an honest job. I work the night shift. That’s why I haven’t been around so much lately.”

You hadn’t noticed, if you were being honest. You were too busy trying to keep everyone you loved alive and fed. Maybe that was his point.

He strokes the side of your cheek with his thumb and it’s an effort not to lean in, to pick up where the two of you left off only the week before.

Was this what he had been like with Drusilla?

You force yourself to pull away, removing his hand from your face and threading your fingers through his to keep him still. He’s been so touchy recently. You can’t trust your reaction to it.

“If that’s true, it’s still not right of me to take it from you if you’re under any impression about—” You swallow. Your palm starts to sweat under his. “We’re not— I mean, I can’t ever— I know we’ve been close recently and if that’s the reason why you’re giving me this, because you think it’s going to make us... if you think what happened last time is going to be some kind of recurring thing—”

He’s watching you stumble with open amusement, without any indication that he’s going to come in and save you from yourself.

“If this money is meant romantically, I can’t accept it,” you say finally. “I don’t want the strings attached.”

“Full of ourselves, are we?” he asks, slipping his hand out of yours. The loss of contact seems to bother you more than him.

He heads for the door, leaving the money next to you. You skim the bills with your fingers as if possessed, almost salivating at the thought of relative financial security. You could get your friends real presents for Christmas and focus on paying off your loans with your next paycheck. Maybe even—

He catches you in the act and you jerk back guiltily. Spike only shakes his head. Then he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket and his smile slips.

“You and I both know that money is the last thing you need to be worrying about right now, what with Glory after the little bit.”

He’s right, but you’re not happy about it. You make up your mind. You try to keep your expression neutral as you hand him back the bills. He can’t know what it’s costing you to turn this down.

“I can take care of it,” you say. You look him in the eye. “I will take care of it. Thank you, Spike, but I don’t want your help.”

“It’s hard for you to lower yourself to my level when you don’t know how long I’ll be around.”

The observation makes you blink and the cash crumples as you ball up your fists. He’s right, but how dare he say it?

Spike places his hands on your shoulders to keep you from charging. You have the same look on your face that Buffy gets right before she slams him up against the wall and rattles his brains.

“I get it. I’m still the same old evil Spike who’s tried to kill you and your friends so many times we’ve lost count. But I’ve got this chip in my head and I’m bloody bored anyway, so let me do something for the one person in this house I can stand, all right?”

You’re wavering, but it’s not enough. Your hand just opens and closes on the cash robotically as you try to process what you’re hearing, calculate the odds of this self-destructing, decide what the right thing means in a situation like this. Before you can revise your morals to fit, Spike goes in for the kill.

“You said once that we were friends for now. That as long as I wasn’t killing people and wanted to hang out, you’d be there, because you thought everyone had the capability to do good. You thought you could change me.” He’s fond of this memory. You can hear it in his voice that he still thinks it’s bullshit, but it gives him the warm fuzzies anyway. “I don’t care about the world or the superfriends or the ethics of vampirism. I care about you. If we’re friends like you say, let me do this for you.”

You open your mouth and then close it, like a very stupid fish. Spike chuckles and pats you on the head the way you might soothe a puppy.

“If it would help you to believe this is the first step in me developing some kind of moral compass, go right on ahead, love.”

——

You had only started your day job about a month ago and you were only working part time, but you know how important it is to make friends in the workplace. So when they finally invited you out for the night, you were ecstatic.

They told you there was a bar just off the highway that they liked to frequent. We’ll carpool, they said. You’ll love it, they said.

It’s a strip club.

Fluorescent lights stripe across the top of the building, supporting a flashing sign with a topless girl with tasteful silver stars over her nipples. The bouncer at the door has definitely done hard drugs at some point and the music blasting from inside is deafening even out in the parking lot.

After a moment’s hesitation, you roll with it. You know how to relax, even if everyone else thinks otherwise. You can play the necessarily part, share giggles with the others as you watch the show. You can slam back tequila shots and find it in you to order a round for the table. This is an opportunity, you tell yourself, to pretend everything’s normal for a night.

The “bouncer,” who is probably only there to flatter the older customers by checking their ID, lets you all through and your coworkers drag you to seats in the front. There are poles at various stages sprinkled casually throughout the main area and scantily clad men and women are visiting tables. Every so often, they lead a patron into the back for a private dance.

You’re not a total innocent, but it’s still hard to keep yourself from blushing as you walk past them, unsure if you should make eye contact or not. It’s been awhile since you were anywhere remotely as recreational as this. It’s harder than you thought to shake off your big sibling persona, so you head to the bar with Marie and bring the first round of drinks back to the table.

“This place is special,” she tells you, sipping her Cosmo. She pats your hand in a way that’s near maternal, though she’s only older by two years. “It takes a little getting used to at first, but don’t be scared.”

“Scared?” you laugh. The scariest thing you see is a guy sitting in the back corner trying to coax over a stripper who clearly knows better. You could take him, if it comes to it. Easy.

“It’s a Sunnydale special, that’s all. But it’s a clean business. Perfectly safe, as long as you follow the rules.”

You’re about to ask what those would be when one of the dancers slips off the pole and bites a customer. You bolt from your seat, searching for anything stake-like, but Cara rises to put a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, relax. It’s okay. Watch.”

Watch? That vamp is going to drain that girl dry, you can’t just sit back and—

The dancer removes herself after about thirty seconds, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and blowing her partner a kiss. The girl’s table congratulates her with wolf whistles, slamming back another round of drinks.

“See?” Cara says. You sink down slowly, still watching wide-eyed. “You have to pay extra for biting, but it’s worth it.”

Gina puts a cool hand to your forehead. “Are you feeling all right, sweets? I know it’s a little different, but you said you’d lived in Sunnydale for years. We figured you were familiar with the undead populace.”

“I was.” You’re a little dazed. Mentally beating back your fight-or-flight reflex with a shovel. “I mean, I am. Only not like this.”

“Capitalism at its finest,” Marie sighs.

“Yeah, it’s regular symbiosis,” you agree absent-mindedly.

Things were so much easier when you were helping Buffy kill demons outright. All this moral gray is confusing as hell.

“Everything all right, ladies?”

Oh, shit.

The lighting is low so you duck your head and pray that he doesn’t see you cowering behind Gina, but luck is not on your side today. Cara has decided you’re being too uptight.

“I’d like to buy a private dance for my friend,” she purrs, pointing a manicured finger to you. “They’re new, so be gentle.”

“I’ll do my best,” he says with a wink, making the girls giggle. “What’s your name, love?”

Then his eyes meet yours and you inhale a breath that catches in your throat. Gina elbows you, like Hot, right? You elbow her back and pray he chooses not to embarrass you.

Spike’s pupils are blown. He’s tucked into nothing but tight black briefs and a tie that hangs down to his navel. The rest of him is laid bare for your view and you are really, really trying not to look.

After a beat of surprise, he takes your hand and pulls you out of your seat to lead you to the VIP area in the back. The girls are calling out behind you to have fun, already chatting up another stripper.

He sits you down in an open booth. On the other side of this smaller, darker room, there’s another vampire with a customer. She waves at Spike and then continues gyrating on her guy’s lap as he pours out all of his problems about his ex-girlfriend.

“I didn’t know you worked here, I swear,” you whisper, turning your attention back to him. “I wouldn’t have come if I did.”

“I don’t mind, pet.” He lowers himself onto you before you can protest, leaning in close. You swallow hard. “Your friends seem fun.”

“They’re coworkers, really. This is the first time we’ve been out together. I didn’t know we were coming to a, um, club.”

“I believe you.”

He’s steadying himself with his hands on your shoulders now, his breath ghosting over your face. He’s been surprisingly sweet about this so far, but there’s a bite to him. He’s still, as he frequently reminds you, evil. He’s taking this opportunity to demonstrate it.

“You’re tense, love.” His knees spread to either side of you and he rises up on them so that his chest is level with your face. You have to tilt your chin up to look at him. To make sure you look at nothing else. “Let me help. After all, we want your friend to get her money’s worth.”

He’s so close that he’s practically on top of you as he moves, swaying his hips back and forth, squeezing his knees to the outside of your thighs to keep him steady. It doesn’t matter that nothing below the waist actually come into contact with your skin. You can feel it. Him. Tremors shoot through your nerves as he leaves behind any semblance of stuffy British politeness and grinds down on you, grinning wickedly the whole time, like all roads lead to him and this club, like he somehow planned the whole thing. Then he leans back and holds out the end of his tie to you and you make a decision. You tug him towards you.

He’s everywhere, insistently parting your lips to slip his tongue in, knotting his hands in your hair, making you moan in a way that’s still completely indecent, despite the setting. Your eyes close and you briefly wonder if the other vampire and her client are still here, if they’re enjoying the show, but then you can’t think of anything except him.

His fingers begin to massage your lower thigh, creeping upward to trace the sensitive skin left exposed by your very short shorts. He’s drawing hearts, but you’re certain it’s not love he’s thinking of. It’s about blood. Isn’t it always?

“Wear these to tease me?”

“You wish,” you pant. You keep your palm wrapped around his tie like it’s the lifeline between the two of you, the only thing keeping you from drifting off into space. He presses back into you, this time giving you a taste of the show everyone else comes to see.

There’s nothing tender about this part. It’s gasping and bruising and pent-up frustration, maybe on your side more than his. It’s harsh, consuming. It feels like you’re being swept out to sea by a riptide. There’s no life vest in sight.

Then you’re coming down from your high and he’s working you through it, murmuring to you about how rightly jealous your friends are going to be at the bright hickey on your neck. He’s taking care of you, just like he said he would.

He smells like graveyard dirt and cinnamon. You’d make some quip about it being the cologne of the season among undead strippers, but you have to focus on breathing.

You’re disgusted with yourself. You’re elated. It’s confusing, but there’s no doubt that you’re disappointed when he takes his thumb to swipe away a strand of saliva that’s been left hanging and pulls away.

He untangles himself from you, leaving your lips pink and swollen and glistening, and tugs you out of the booth.

“Your friends will be wondering where you are,” Spike says. He’s sweating a little. You can see it beading on his chest. You’re proud. You caused that.

“And you need to get back to work.” You straighten your top, combing through your hair with your fingers, trying to compose yourself when you don’t know if you’ll ever be fully coherent again. You don’t know the etiquette for situations like this anymore, so you offer him a half-smile and stuff your hands in your pockets. “I’m sure the club’s missing their best dancer.”

He’s never been one for humility, so he just nods. He can’t help biting his cheek in satisfaction as you walk past him, all hot and bothered, hair mussed and cheeks pinkened. He did that.

When you get back to your table, your coworkers demand to know all the dirty details, although they’re busying themselves with throwing money at one of the pole dancers.

Spike stops by on his way to another table with some excuse about returning your bracelet, which he no doubt stole off your wrist during your “dance” for this exact purpose. He folds it into your palm, then bends to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll come by the house after my shift.”

Your friends practically swoon.