#“but she didn't ask for this... she just wanted to play her games a little longer...”

[moghedien]

I actually do love that even if Shadowheart becomes a cleric of Selune she's not like...actively following Selune

like it was kinda always clearly like that regardless but its especially obivous for me playing a Selunite right now because you do get a significant amount of Selune specific dialogue options about the conversion with her basically from the point where she saves Aylin on and I honestly don't usually take them from a RP standpoint, but I like to see where the dialogue trees lead so I'll quicksave and take them to see where they lead and then load back usually to pick the dialogue option I actually want (though sometimes I don't reload especially if the outcome is a little bitchy or sassy in some way unexpectedly fun)

and anyway, if you take a lot of those options, some of which are more pushy about her being a Selunite now, she'll often push back against that. Not in the way where she's actively antagonistic to Selune like she was before, but she'll basically push back against the idea that she's suddenly going to be all for Selune like she was for Shar. or even like actively worshipping Selune at all. she makes it clear that even if she turned against Shar, she didn't do that for Selune or to become a Selunite and you shouldn't expect that from her. One bit of dialogue I really liked from her was her saying that she's "wary of goddesses" right now.

and like I do just really love that because it gives her so much more agency as a character not to just jump from being one kind of zealot to another. like she's not going from being a member of a bad cult to a member of a good cult. she's going from the bad cult to being like very hesitant about where the fuck she goes from here and loosely accepting the support of Selune while there are no strings attached but being extremely wary of seeking out that support or giving that support any kind of deeper meaning or devotion. she's accepting Selune's help because Selune just gave it without asking for anything but she's not going to go about seeking out more until she's dealt with her past and established herself, and she might not even do so then

and I love that for like her personal agency, like I said, but I also love that because also leads to the funniest possible post-game life for her and my Selunite cleric because you have like my Tav, who is actively a follower of Selune and at the end of this game will be one of the most powerful clerics of Selune in any given place because level 12 clerics don't exactly just come out of no where and its like, she's doing so much to show her devotion to her goddess and worked so hard to reach this point and have this much of a connection with Selune and its all probably so big and meaningful to her

and then you have her wife Shadowheart who is also an equally powerful level 12 cleric of Selune but can't quote a single line of any prayer, doesn't know any rituals or ceremonies or anything, and doesn’t even actively worship her in any way but Selune is still like "have some divine intervention"

[flowerandblood]

The Last Drop (2/?)

[ modern • vampire • Aemond x female ]

[ warnings: kissing, description of blood drinking and bleeding in general, sexual tension, angst, toxic relationship with Alys ]

[ description: Encouraged by the information that the town he has landed in is not known for having the most vigilant police in the world, he decides to go on a little hunting trip to finally quench his burning thirst. However, not everything goes according to plan. (A lot of sexual tension, grumpy, gloomy Aemond). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He was only supposed to stay in this town for three days, eat to his heart's content and return by train to one of his flats a few hours away.

Or at least that was his plan.

He didn't know why he was standing outside a nerdy club where, from what he understood, game and board enthusiasts ate popcorn and nachos while sipping drinks.

Admittedly, he worked on a laptop and using a computer made his life a lot easier: he didn't have to show up at the company as he did his tasks remotely, but he was still far from a fan of modern technology.

He felt that it was killing something, although he wasn't sure what.

She told him that she worked there and that he should come visit her on her shift. She said something about drinks with an extra element, which surely was blood, that she wanted to prepare especially for him.

He was unable to grasp neither the full absurdity of the situation nor why he was just standing outside the entrance like an idiot, instead of returning to his quiet, well-ordered life.

To Alys.

He sighed, glancing down at his phone, seeing that she had sent him another two new messages, several missed calls showed that she was starting to get impatient.

He swallowed hard reading the last message, recognising that he didn't feel like letting Alys play with her at all.

He wrote back and tucked the phone into his pocket, running down the stairs to the premises which were twinkling with lots of coloured lights and neon.

As he stepped inside, he immediately heard 80s electronic music – the Depeche Mode track I just can't get enough was pounding from the speakers around him. The club's clientele was mostly very young, dancing in front of large monitors following the instructions of some character, singing karaoke, playing at a PlayStation or bent over large boards, planning the entire game.

"Hi!" He heard a cheerful voice from behind the bar – when he looked there, he saw her and her wide smile, her hair pinned up in a ponytail on top of her head.

He didn't understand why her eyes sparkled with joy at the sight of him, and why he felt a pleasant warmth at the thought.

Was he so desperate to be noticed and needed?

He thought he was pathetic, but still his feet carried him further to the counter behind which she stood.

"I'm so glad you're here. Would you like to try the drink I mentioned yesterday?" She asked immediately, while her shift mate started to serve another customer.

He just nodded, for some reason embarrassed and overwhelmed, sitting down on one of the high chairs just off the bar.

He saw that she had gone to the back room and then returned with a bottle in which he was sure there was blood.

He looked around anxiously, but no one took any notice.

"I'm going to make a drink for my friend with rum, ice, cherry and apricot juice." She said aloud, pouring something that was certainly not cherry juice along with the other ingredients into a shaker.

He couldn't hide his surprise at the fact that he didn't see any sign of discomfort or fear on her face that someone would discover what she was doing – on the contrary, she seemed delighted to share her next treat with him again.

Although he didn't admit it out loud, fuck, her blood jellies were so good.

She poured the contents of the container into a nice tall glass and put a cardboard straw in it, placing the whole thing right in front of his face.

"I hope you will like it." She said lightly, immediately moving on to attend to the customer behind him.

He reached for the glass, raised it to his lips and hesitantly took a sip from it. He had to bite his lower lip to hold back a smirk of amusement.

It was delicious.

For some reason, being with her made him feel like a human again and maybe that's why he came back.

Maybe that's why he couldn't leave.

"What do you think?" She asked aloud, preparing an order for a second customer, already with completely normal ingredients.

"Very good." He admitted, throwing her a drawn-out, satisfied look.

For some reason, he was smiling.

Her shift ended an hour later so, as per her request, he waited for her at the exit. As she came out of the back room, one of the guys, similar in age to her at least in appearance, clearly drunk, approached her.

"– hi – shit, I know I'm drunk and – you know – but – fuck, will you give me your number? – sorry if I'm imposing –" He mumbled, clearly stressed and filled with emotion.

He saw that this confession had impressed her and did not make her uncomfortable, however, he knew she would refuse.

She, unlike him, was not playing with her food.

"Forgive me, but I already have someone." She said and looked up at him, surprising him completely.

He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief.

"– oh – I'm so sorry – I thought –" The boy began to babble, clearly embarrassed, wanting for sure now to erase from her memory what he had said and just disappear.

"– it's okay – you're really sweet –" She assured him warmly and walked past him, throwing him a horrified, apologetic look.

"You already have someone?" He sneered, walking up the stairs at her side, stepping out into the fresh night air at last.

"Sorry, I didn't know what to answer. Don't be mad. Otherwise he'd be getting his hopes up." She said with sincere concern, grabbing his coat sleeve, clearly wanting him to accept her explanation and look at her.

"Nevermind." He said, not knowing what he was doing here.

I should go home, he thought.

"If you want, you can rest in my apartment." He heard her voice and swallowed loudly, thinking that he shouldn't.

He shouldn't, but he ended up lying in her bed anyway, with his fangs sunk into her fragrant neck, snuggled into her soft flesh. Her fluffy pyjamas, consisting of trousers and a shirt buttoned up the front, smelled of some pleasant, delicate washing powder.

He had to undo a few buttons to reach the hollow of her neck, or at least that's how he explained it to himself – his hand, as he drank her blood in slow, lazy sips, brushed her plump breast under the material, founding itself there completely by accident.

Every time his thumb, also by accident of course, rubbed her hard nipple, something on the edge of a sigh and a moan left her lips: her body tensed like a string, vulnerable and responsive to his every move.

It occurred to him that what he was doing, as well as the reactions of her own body, were a surprise to her – she was certainly not as experienced in these matters as he was, if at all.

That thought aroused him even more.

When he finally pulled away from her, he wanted to take his hand from under her shirt, but her fingers stopped him, pressing it back against her skin. He sighed as she turned with him, when, trailing her knuckles along his long jaw, this time it was her moist lips that reached his neck.

He licked his mouth and flinched, feeling the dull pain and sting as her fangs dug slowly into his flesh. He closed his eyes, focusing on the softness of her breast under his hand, kneading it gently in his palm, feeling the wonderful, intimate scent of their blood all around them.

Sip after sip she quenched her thirst, cuddling up to him like a small child – he couldn't help the pleasant shiver that ran through his lungs as she threw her leg over his hip, pressing her body against his.

When she finally pulled away from his neck, she laid her head on the pillow right next to his – their lips, chins and cheeks were all sticky with blood. When she leaned towards him, they simply kissed: he grunted with delight, feeling their mingled taste melt on his tongue, and pressed her tighter to himself, clasping his free hand in her hair.

It doesn't mean anything, he repeated to himself, forcing his tongue deep into her throat, rolling with his hips back and forth, rubbing his swollen erection against her lower abdomen.

He was simply tired and she was a break from the monotony of his life.

He would get bored with her quickly, as he did with all the women before her.

He opened his eyes as she pressed her forehead against his, listening to their loud, raspy breaths. He gasped as her fingers ran down his cheek, as the tips of their tongues brushed invitingly, clicking with each lazy lick, sending a delicious, hot shiver down his spine.

It was one of the most perverse sensations he had ever experienced in his life.

He was unable to contain the pleasant, warm feeling that spread through his heart as she combed her fingers through his short hair – to his displeasure, she broke the caress and kissed the tip of his nose.

He was fully hard, but he had no intention of taking more from her than she was willing to give him.

"Why did you come?" She asked in a whisper, stroking his cheek with her thumb.

He simply looked at her for a moment, wondering what he should answer.

Why he had actually done it again.

"I don't know." He replied finally. "I don't know the answer to that question."

His words did not discourage or sadden her, as she smiled with understanding.

"I see. Rest now. I will too." She said softly.

They both lay on their stomachs, embracing each other with their arms around each other's waists – their foreheads still touched as they both closed their eyes.

For some reason, he wanted to feel her close.

They weren't friends, just some strange kind of lovers, he realized with pain, but he felt a strange discomfort at the thought, indicating that he himself wasn't sure he believed what he was trying to tell himself.

What had he really come for?

What was he expecting?

Was he simply curious about how her drink tasted?

How their night would turn out?

Would he drink her blood again?

Will they have sex?

Will they fall asleep next to each other?

He closed his eyes, recognising that it didn't matter.

For the first time in many years he had fully quenched his hunger.

The thought that this was surely the last night he would spend with her filled him with a strange kind of sadness and regret – he held her close in his embrace, knowing that he would eventually have to tell her that he didn't live here at all.

That he had lied to her.

When she woke up and lifted her head, she saw his face – she smiled sweetly in a way from which he felt a sting in his heart.

Although all sticky with blood, she looked so innocent.

"I lied to you." He said.

She blinked and shook her head, surprised and horrified, her expression one of complete consternation.

"What do you mean?" She muttered.

"I didn't move here. I just came for a while. You know. To eat." He explained, feeling that for some reason his heart was pounding in his chest like crazy.

Why was he scared?

"Oh. I understand. We don't know each other well yet, you had every right to act like that. Don't worry." She said reassuringly, making him feel an uncomfortable tightness in his throat, a wetness under his eyelids that he hadn't felt in years.

What was happening to him?

"There's someone out there waiting for me. And I don't want her to find out about you. It would be dangerous for you. I'm leaving today." He whispered with surprising difficulty, hearing, shocked, that his voice broke at the last sentence.

He saw her eyebrows arch in pain, her nose twitched as her eyes turned red with tears, the request and plea for him to stay written on her face so clearly that she didn't need to say anything.

Instead of stopping him, however, she let him go and pulled away slightly.

"Your friend?" She asked, not looking him in the eye, but at his chest.

He had a feeling that if he opened his mouth, he would cry.

He let his broad, pale hand raise – his fingers ran gently across her cheek in some hopeless attempt to comfort her.

"If I could, I would take you with me." He said with difficulty, hearing, embarrassed, how pathetic it sounded.

She laughed, but it was a chuckle full of sadness and disappointment, from which he felt a cold, unpleasant shiver.

"Is that how it is with you? Do you play separately and then come back together?" She asked.

He swallowed hard, feeling as if a stone had fallen to the bottom of his stomach, dragging him down.

He felt ashamed at the thought of how accurately she had judged him.

"Go back to her, but don't mention me. I don't need any more problems, much less a jealous woman on my mind." She said, rising from the bed at last, leaving him with emptiness and coldness all around.

"Of course. I'm not going to expose you." He muttered, raising himself up on his elbow, stupefied, feeling like he'd woken up from some deep sleep.

It wasn't real.

"Do you need blood? I can give you a few bags." She said calmly, standing with her back to him, pacing the kitchen as if she were preparing to make herself breakfast.

"No. No need."

The sky outside the window was cloudy, exactly as his thoughts – he was sitting in a train car filled with people, and although he usually struggled to control himself, he felt no hunger.

Her blood satisfied him.

He lowered his gaze, wondering why he didn't feel like he was coming home at all. Usually after such a journey he was tired and discouraged, relieved to return to what was familiar to him. Now, however, he felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper into the dark, damp underworld of his heart.

What was really waiting for him there?

He got the answer as soon as he crossed the threshold of his flat.

Alys was waiting for him with candles all around her, which she must have lit beforehand. She looked very good: an elegant knee-length black dress perfectly accentuated her physical assets, her long hair falling loosely over her shoulders.

He didn't know why, but the sight of her made him feel uncomfortable.

Is this how it is with you?

Do you play separately and then come back to each other?

It's not like that, he thought.

It's just that when I go home, she's already waiting for me there.

Always.

"What's that face? Did you kill someone?" She asked with a hint of amusement, rising from the couch, a pretty, ornate goblet filled with blood in her hand.

Fresh blood.

He didn't want to know where she'd gotten it or who'd paid for it.

"No." He replied wearily, putting the keys down on one of the shelves in the corridor.

I don't have the strength for this, he thought.

"I've missed you. This city is so boring when you're not around." She said softly, combing her long nails through his short hair.

He felt an unsettling shudder when she did this: unlike her touch, in which there was first and foremost a desire for comfort, there was pure sexual intent in Alys's.

She wanted to get straight to the point.

He closed his eyes as she embraced him from behind, as her lips placed a kiss on his neck, as her free hand slowly slid down his torso between his thighs. She froze, not finding there what she had clearly expected.

He wasn't hard.

"What's the matter? Aren't you in the mood? Didn't you miss me?" She asked, and he sighed, taking her hand from his crotch.

"No." He replied again, pulling his coat off his shoulders.

He felt the atmosphere around them grow thicker, knowing that her momentary silence was not a good sign.

She was preparing to attack.

"Are you in love with some poor human girl again? You'll get over it, as you always do. She'll eventually grow old and die, and you'll come back, seeking comfort from me." She muttered with a kind of certainty in her voice that annoyed him.

"What are you doing in my flat?" He asked dryly, knocking her off guard.

She looked at him, wrinkling her eyebrows, increasingly frustrated.

"I came to say hello to you. I was hoping for a warmer welcome." She replied coldly.

Welcome, meaning wild sex full of blood?

"I don't recall inviting you. I want to rest." He said dryly, sidestepping her, feeling some kind of frustration and regret.

Because of you, I had to leave her behind.

She needed me.

But if I had stayed with her, she would have found out what a jealous monster you are.

Alys was able to reconcile with his female human lovers because she knew they would eventually disappear – she herself did not shy away from such excesses, fucking young, handsome boys whenever the opportunity arose.

A female vampire, however, would be a threat to her.

"Ah, yes. You only need me when you cry and miss your mummy. When the remorse and memories of how you killed your father come back. But don't worry. I know you better than you know yourself. Have fun, and when you're done, come and we'll forget this conversation." She said dispassionately and grabbed her coat, putting on her high-heels on the way, leaving his flat with a loud slam of the door.

He rested his hands on the countertop and leaned forward, for some strange reason feeling relieved.

He was alone.

He sat down at his old oak desk and opened his laptop – he sighed heavily as he saw 46 new emails from work, knowing he would have to wade through them all one by one.

He had always loved reading, and over his far too long life he had read so many books that he thought he might be able to make some money from it. He therefore became an editor and translator for a publishing house that released volumes of poetry, but also books on history and philosophy.

He liked this job: he received assignments by email, and could discuss them over the phone. His employers were happy with his work, and his readers praised the fidelity of his translations and revisions, so in the end he managed to live on that alone.

He used an alias and false documents so no one has yet realised that he has been several other people in different countries over the past decade.

He could, of course, like other vampires, simply kill rich people and steal their life savings, however, he knew that in the long run such a life was very miserable: for obvious reasons it is then easier to draw attention to yourself and you still have to hide.

He had enough of that.

Maybe that's why she made such an impression on me, he thought.

She lived as if nothing had happened.

He sighed, running his hand over his face, feeling nothing but remorse at the memory of the expression on her face when he told her he was leaving. He didn't understand why those three days had affected him so much, why she, a stranger, had made him doubt himself completely as a person.

Maybe it was because he had touched her even though he shouldn't have: she had no obligations to anyone, he knew, however, that by entering into any kind of intimate relationship with her, he might be exposing her to Alys' wrath – and even though nothing but a kiss had actually happened between them, he had the feeling that they had had sex at least a few times.

This kind of unforced, intense intimacy, this touch full of desire and need for closeness, was so painfully sincere that it went beyond what he was usually familiar with: what he had done was not only out of his physiological needs, but out of something much deeper.

Something more sad, more pathetic, more real.

Some part of him wanted to be human again.

[ickytreats]

One order of Hypersexual youngest! 🍨

It all starts because Little Sister's libido is way too high. At first, it was controllable for her but then it got worse. Her hands weren't enough, she didn't dare to buy toys. Eventually though Mom finds out, her poor baby! Buys her toys and has a sit-down. Shows her exactly how to use the toys, making herself and her baby cum multiple times.

Until those toys aren't enough either she gets tired but her need is still there. To the point, she's in tears so needy. Everyone in the family feels so bad for the little one. Until Big Brother offers himself. Lil Sis is shy at first not daring to ask, multiple times Big Bro has found her in tears needy. Fucks her right on the spot, reassuring her that it's okay.

The first time that happened he fucked her right in the hall. They made a mess, her cum all over the floor. Both panting, sweaty and tired but at least little sis was satisfied. Plus Big Bro had fun, Cumming all over her.

Until she finally gets the hang of it. Pulling her Big Bros cock out whenever she wants. At the dinner table, while he plays video games, the moment he gets home from work, and while he’s sleeping. Mom and Dad get used to the sight of them fucking all over the house.

Heck! Sometimes they even rub her little cunnie for her if they feel like Big Bro is getting tired. She had over stimulated him so many times just asking for round after round, either Dad or Mom has had to step in a few times.

Eventually, the whole family becomes free use for the youngest. All are willing to satisfy her needs whenever.

Dad would pull her off her Big Brother-sensitive cock. And sit her on his thigh, she’d be a whiny mess grinding on it. As Dad chuckles telling her to calm down as he unzips his pants getting ready to fuck her.

Mom would be able to tell when Big Bro is getting tired. Would be over in seconds sucking on her babies clit to work her up and get her tired quicker. Would finger her Big Brothers cum back into her pulling another orgasm.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

The girls having to always justify and defend their relationship to the people around them post-Amphibia. No one takes them seriously. Firstly, they're so young, and when kids their age date, it's practically play pretend. No teenager is gonna have a relationship that mature, serious and committed, and the fact that Anne, Sasha and Marcy see theirs in those terms only speaks of how delusional they are. Which touches on the next point: everyone knows they went missing together, and when they came back, they were different, visibly traumatized and with obvious scars. People were already taken aback by the scar on Sasha's face - the most visible one, undeniably - but the whole cheerleader squad freaked out the first time they saw her back in the changing rooms. Not to mention the change in behavior and the sheer clinginess with which they treat each other. It's weird. Like, they're, what, 15 by now? They're not 5, jeez, do they need to hold hands all the time? Anyway, yeah, this whole "three person relationship" they insist on is clearly a trauma response. They grew so attached to each other for survival that now they can't have normal platonic or romantic relationships, poor things. The fact that they're all girls plays a minor role, too, because relationships between girls are already taken less serious in general. Like, ah, yes, your "girl friend". Don't you want a real relationship? You know, how do you know you don't like boys if you never gave them a chance? And maybe this last one would be insignificant compared to their other struggles if the fact that it's three of them didn't exacerbate it already. If two girls dating are often reduced to being friends, three girls dating is a joke, right? Like, this is literally just a friend group. People will be asking Anne out when Sasha and Marcy are right there and they made it clear that she's taken. 0 respect at all. Actually, the fact that they're three people is the main element people cling to to invalidate them. Right. Three teenage girls in a relationship. Do you hear yourself? Do they even know what they're talking about? You can't have a committed relationship with two people. In fact, you can't know what a committed relationship is at that age. This is clearly just a game and a coping mechanism, and their parents humor them as to not upset them, and because they seem genuinely happy together, but they're worried, and when one year passes, two years, three, four, five, and they don't seem to grow out of their little delusion, they're actively concerned and trying to take action, especially when they start talking about going to college together like - hold on, are they planning to do this forever?

[novankenn]

Mom comes to Work Day! (From Assassin to Sales Clerk AU)

(A/N- Plot points from THIS by @rwby-encrusted-blog were used)

Deandra "Deery" Thistle rolled her eyes as she carried another case of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flake Crunch towards the front display. At the counter, was her co-worker Blake Belladonna, she was sure she knew that name from somewhere, anyway not the point. The point is that while she was busting ass hauling stock out of the back, Blake was making goo-goo eyes at the blond girl that was leaning on the counter.

"She's a looker, but not my type." Deery muttered to herself as she started unboxed the cereal. "She better treat Blake good, though."

So as Deery muttered to herself while stocking the shelves, Blake was giggling as Yang regaled her with the most recent bet that Jaune, Ruby, Yang's sister, Yang had made while playing video games at the Arc Villa. A Bet that the trio ended up dragging Pyrrha in on.

"You should have seen her kitty-kat." Yang snorted. "Her face was so red I though she was going to shoot steam out of her ears!"

"Why was she so embarrassed?" Blake asked, a little annoyed at not getting the full story before the climax. "What happened? What was the bet?"

"Well were were playing Super-Mega-Ultimate-Edition Rumble Huntresses, so Ruby and Jaune started trash talking each other, and everyone on how epic they were." Yang's grin was infectious. "So they decided to have a round-robin tournament. Well you can't have one of those with only two players, and they didn't want to use bots.."

"So Ruby used her puppy-dog-eyes on you, and you caved."

"Not just her! Jaune uses them too, and I swear you not, paired together even the Brother Gods wouldn't be able to say no to them."

"So what was this bet?"

"The loser had to wear the winner's underwear on their head for rest of the night."

"Oh my gods! Did Pyrrha?"

"Yep!" Yang started to laugh, "Jaune won every match, and Pyrrha lost all of hers..."

"You have pics?" Blake asked her ears perked.

"Yep."

"Show...." the ding of a customer entering the store, had Blake instantly return to a more, professional persona. "Welcome to Pumpkin Pete's Nov... MOM!!!!"

"BLAKE!!! MY BABY!!!" howled an older faunus woman, who was the spitting image of the entirely flabbergasted young woman standing behind the counter.

"In coming!" Yang shouted as she back pedaled out of the way that was the black streak of Blake's mom crossing the floor.

"Blake... Blake... Blake..."

"It's okay mom. It's okay." Blake tried to console her overwhelmed mother as she was damn near pulling Blake over the counter with her hug. "It's okay."

After a minute or so Blake's mom, calmed down enough to release her daughter. After taking a couple of calming breaths, she fixed her gaze upon her daughter... and slapped her, hard! The sound of flesh striking flesh making both Yang and Deery jump.

"How DARE you make me think you were dead!" Blake's mom yelled. "Why didn't you call? Why didn't you tell me you were okay?"

"I'm so..."

Yang stepped in right after the second slap, cut off Blake's apology.

"Okay. Let's all take a deep breath, and let it out slowly. That's it. In and out. Nice and slow." Yang kept herself between the mother and daughter. "Alright, now that we've all had a chance to get centered, how about introductions? Blake?"

"Yang," still rubbing the side of her face, "This is my mom. kali Belladonna."

"Hello, Yang." Kali greeted the young blond woman. "I am sorry you had to see that, and I'm sorry I reacted that way Blake... but it's just been so long!"

"I'm sorry, mom. I am..." Blake's ears lay flat against her black hair. "Things just got so twisted... that I just kept putting talking to you off."

"Well it is better late then never. I'm glad your safe, though why are you in those clothes and standing behind the counter?"

"I'm working."

"Working? I thought you were still..." seeing the quick shake of Blake's head and her roll of her eyes towards Yang, Kali knew to shut up.

"What did you think my Kitty-Kat was, Mrs Belladonna?" Yang asked, making Blake blush.

"Travelling Remnant as a..."

"Acrobat!" Blake blurted out the first thing that popped into her head.

"Yes, yes. An acrobat."

"I thought you were a struggling writer?" Yang asked.

"I changed career paths. Acrobatics was too cut throat." Blake stammered out.

"Who would have thought." Yang responded. "The more you know."

"Question." Kali turned to look at Yang. "Why did you call my daughter Kitty-Kat? Is there some... special meaning to it?"

"Well sort of." Yang stammered. "I used to call her that a few years ago, and just fell right back into it when I ran into her here."

"I see." Kali studied Yang and Blake for a few moments. "Are you two... perhaps dating?"

Both young ladies blushed up a storm and mouthed words, unable to either confirm nor deny the accusation levied by Kali.

"They might as well be!" came an annoyed voice from behind the trio. "The way they be shooting looks and smiles at each other, just as bad as that Arc and Nikos couple!"

"Arc and Nikos..." Kali turned towards the voice, and froze. "DEERY?!?"

"Hi Kali." Deery shot Kali a smile before walking around the counter and placing a slightly possessive hand on Blake's shoulder. "Now I am all for reunions. I am. But Blake here has another six hours to go on her shift."

"I'll see you after your shift Blake. Yang pleasure to meet you, and Deery thank you for looking out for my daughter." Kali smiled as she slowly backed from the counter and made to leave the store.

"Well that's my que." Yang quipped. "If I don't see you tonight we'll meet up with Jaune and Pyrrha at the theatre around 8?"

"Sounds good." Blake shot Yang a warm smile, as the blond girl she once was going to kill left the store with a spring in her step. Though Blake's smile faltered when she saw her mom standing just outside of the store on her scroll. "Crap, there goes a quiet life."

"I don't think that call is about you." Deery commented. "And just an FYI. As long as you work here... I've got you back."

[welldonekhushi]

"Separation" | PART I

WHAT IF: Instead of Jane, Vasili was kept under the Separation Drug?

To understand this plot even better, read Vasili's lore in the Black Ops 6!

Summary: Vasili Sokolov, formerly known as Bell, is held hostage in the Rook after going rogue, and gets tested under the Separation drug. He then reveals his reasons that made him join the Pantheon, their ultimate plan.. and somehow, a long-ongoing grudge.

Warnings: Just some potential BO6 spoilers? For those who still haven't played the game yet, and some profanity.

Note: Italic texts represent Troy and the rest communicating with Vasili. Red texts represent Vasili's alter ego trying to break the control of the drug in his system. And I'm only afraid that it didn't turn out to be how I expected it to be, but I tried my best to make it simple so I hope you understand.

[A distant voice was heard in the void.]

Marshall: Vasili.. do you hear me?

Vasili: What.. what's going on?

Marshall: It's Troy. I'm going to ask you some questions.

Vasili: What did you do to me?

Marshall: Adler calls it 'Separation'. Just relax.

Vasili: Is this some lame trick?

Marshall: Believe us. We really need you right now, Vince.

Marshall: Tell us about everything. We're all ears.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The screen fades to black before a surreal image emerges through the scene. Vasili waking in a fractured, void-like realm. The atmosphere is chaotic, with fragmented platforms suspended in the abyss, shattered buildings, and distorted surroundings drifting aimlessly in the darkness.

Marshall's voice echoes through the desolation. "This is your true self, separated out from the rest. We need your help, Vasili."

"There's a bioweapon. And someone is planning to unleash it through some kind of attack. Can you tell me about it?"

Vasili hesitates, his voice uncertain. "I can try. But, I would never do something like that.."

Marshall presses gently. "Where are you right now?"

Vasili's mind flickered. "I'm home."

Vasili’s gaze fixed onto his old home in the distance, its facade fractured, yet hauntingly familiar. Carefully, he stepped across the unstable, crumbling platforms. Reaching the warped doorstep, he hesitated before gently pushing the door open. The hinges groaned, and beyond, his childhood room unfolded, a snapshot frozen in time.

Standing at its center was a younger version of himself, wide-eyed and unscarred by the burdens of the future.

There, he saw her. Eva, his mother entering the room. She smiled as she pulled his younger self into a warm embrace, a quiet moment of love frozen in time.

Vasili’s throat tightened, his voice barely a whisper trying not to break. "Mama."

"I was so happy, but—" Vasili’s attention was drawn to a glowing mirror in the corner of the room, its light calling him to uncover the truth. He moved toward it, his hands reaching out, ready to touch the surface.. until something stopped him.

The older man watched the heartfelt moment unfold, one that brought him an unexpected sense of comfort and delight, free from the burdens and worries of the world. He seemed.. truly happy, and it made Vasili want to hold onto this one, single moment forever. The figures disappeared in thin air, signifying they were all just memories. Even if they had gone distant.

"Stop it, Mama!" Little Vasili was getting tickled by his mother, playfully.

Vasili's eyes widened in fear as he saw a hand grapple his arm, turning around to see his younger self, staring back at him with an unsettling awareness. The child's eyes, once innocent, now darkened to a tar-like black, twisted with a wicked smile. The distorted, yet mature voice that followed sent a chill down his spine.

"Welcome back, Vasili."

Suddenly, the reality before him began to fracture. Cracks splintered through the air, distorting the scene as the floor beneath his feet shattered. In an instant, Vasili held onto his younger self's arm, but instead he let him go, the ground giving way and sending him hurtling into the endless void below, shrouding him in the darkness along with a shrill silence.

"But then?" Troy's voice cut through the stillness, steady and probing. "What even drove you to do all those disastrous things?"

"Revenge."

"No.. not revenge!" Vasili’s voice trembled, a mix of defiance and uncertainty. "There is still so much that I don't understand."

He wakes up with a sharp inhale, and coughed for air, finding himself on another fractured platform, the impact jarring him. Around him, new fragments emerge, which were the pieces of his old life. A KGB dossier drifts past, along with broken picture frames and faded documents. He steadies himself and presses forward.

"I need to go to work.. maybe I’ll find answers where it all began."

The fragmented world twists again, forming the skeletal outline of the KGB headquarters. Vasili steps inside, the dim corridors feeling strangely alive. The faint whispers of his past missions echo in the shadows, and mannequin-like figures of agents stand frozen in eerie poses, their hollow gazes following his every move.

"It was my passion and dream to join the KGB. All my education and efforts are devoted to this very day.. to see myself as a Major."

"Do you see anyone familiar?"

"I need.. I need to find Belikov," Vasili muttered, his voice strained. "I have to know if he's okay.."

"Why do you even care for him?"

"He's my friend."

"Belikov and you were together?"

"Since the beginning. When I joined the KGB."

Vasili moved through mannequin-like agents, their lifeless poses adding to his growing unease. His search for Belikov felt futile, but he pressed on.

"You're getting away from the topic, Vincent!" Woods's voice rang sharply in his mind.

"You don't know anything!" Vasili shot back, his frustration boiling over. Even if he was straying from the topic, he needed to believe he wasn’t alone in this broken reality. There among the figures, he finally met his eyes with that one familiar presence, that relieved him from his fear, waving at him.

"Vasya!" Belikov's cheerful voice rang into his ears. The man sighed in relief, approached him at full speed, grabbing his shoulders.

"Dima.." Vasili scanned the man before him, searching his face, his posture — anything to confirm if it was truly Belikov or just another cruel illusion.

"I was just looking for you, and oh! Anton Charkov's waiting for you in his office," Belikov said with a casual tone.

"What? Did something happen? Or was it one of your mishaps?" Vasili asked, his suspicion lingering.

"What? Not at all!" Belikov chuckled. "But... he looked serious. Not disappointed, though. You should check on him."

"Alright. And you? Where are you headed?"

"President Gorbachev is waiting for me upstairs. I need to get there soon, but I thought I’d inform you about Charkov’s message first."

"Alright, I’ll catch you later." Belikov squeezes Vasili’s shoulder, before disappearing into the shadows. Vasili watches him go, the unease starting to creep within him. The warmth of the encounter feels too real to be a fabrication, yet too perfect to trust.

"General Charkov.. he announced my retirement request," Vasili murmured to himself, his voice heavy as he pieced together the fragments of his distorted reality.

"Charkov was then murdered by poison when you left." Woods’s voice interjected, sharp and cutting. "Then they thought you had murdered him."

Vasili, now outside the headquarters, clutched the documents Charkov had handed him after relieving him of duty. His steps slowed as a memory surfaced. "But I saw something before I left."

"What did you see?"

The reality around Vasili shifted into slow motion, each step dragging as if time itself had fractured. He passed by a figure, their presence pulling at his focus. Something about them felt familiar, almost tangible. Vasili slowed, his gaze narrowing as he tried to make out their face.

But no matter how hard he looked, the face remained blurred, as if the very memory refused to take form. It was an agonizing blank, teasing him with a truth just out of reach, and it walked away from Vasili, the man still staring at him.

PAUSE.

"Your only enemy."

"I missed it. I need to think about it again."

Reality rewound itself, pulling Vasili back to the exact moment he had passed the agent before leaving the headquarters. Time dragged, each detail sharpening as the blurred face began to take form.

It took a few agonizing seconds before recognition began to creep in. The features slowly emerged from the haze, piece by piece, like a puzzle assembling itself in his mind. The surrounding sounds warped and distorted, rising in a chaotic crescendo as the image finally came into focus, the truth staring back at him. The face was blurred out but the prime features of the man reflected to him.

Those gold shades. That scar on his left face.

"I knew him." Vasili spoke gruffly, as the vision around him erased in front of him. "My enemy."

"Whose him?" Troy asked the man, curiously. "Who was your enemy?"

Suddenly, a sharp ring of a bell echoed behind him. Vasili turned, his breath hitching as he came face-to-face with another version of himself. He knew those eyes, black as tar — and that cracked, distorted face.

"Why do you even care, Marshall? He was never cooperating with you, but me."

(a rough sketch, appearance of Vasili's alter ego formed during the Separation drug)

"Fuck!" Vasili’s head throbbed, hearing the same sharp ringing of the bell again as all of his memories surged, which started to drag him forcefully to a stretcher beneath a glaring surgical lamp. The harsh light stung his eyes, turning away from it as his vision blinded.

"Don't you remember what they did to you?" The voice of Vasili's alter ego cut through the silence. He paced himself around the stretcher. He blinked, the safehouse coming into focus. This wasn’t the Rook at all, and he was certain of that.

"I need to give them answers!" Vasili protested, but his alter ego loomed over him, its presence unyielding.

"It's only a matter of time before you break free from this drug, Vasili." He moves closer to Vasili, tilting his head as he smiles. "And I'll be back in control." The entity dissolved in thin air, as the bell sharply rings in the background again. Vasili gets up from the stretcher, seeing a distorted reality ahead of him when he steps out of the safehouse.

"Think harder, Vasili. How is it that you don't remember anything again?" Woods's voice spoke to him.

"As they said, I was always a tool," Vasili muttered, bitterness edging into his words as he rants.

"Is the MK-Ultra still in effect?" Woods asked.

"It always has." Vasili croaked, escaping the room with the help of a ladder in front of him. "Couldn't even guess if it's really me, or someone else."

Reaching the end of the ladder, Vasili had finally reached outside of the safehouse, seeing all the fragmented, distorted and broken elements scattered around his reality.

"Try however you want. You'd never find any answers."

"As if I'd never try, mudak." Vasili growled at his alter ego, whose mocking gestures cut deep. He suddenly froze, the scene drastically shifting around him. The air grew thick as reality itself began to warp, distorting around Vasili like liquid. One moment, he was in a fractured, floating realm. The next, he was pulled through a dark tunnel, his surroundings flickering between his crumbling childhood home and empty voids. Time and space warped, creating a disorienting blur of broken moments. The world seemed to shift at will, leaving Vasili struggling to grasp what was real.

The world continued to twist and fracture around Vasili, as though each step was a battle to keep his footing. Amid the chaos, a massive laboratory door loomed ahead.. cold, foreboding yet painfully familiar. It felt like a door from another life, one that could offer answers or more confusion. Below him, on the ground, sat a small chest. Kneeling down, his hands shaking, he opened it carefully, revealing a letter tucked inside. The paper was old, its edges frayed, as if it had been waiting for him to discover it all this time.

"After my retirement, Perseus brought me in." Vasili murmured. "He wanted to guide my career, offering me a higher position within his faction."

He pushed open the heavy door, stepping into the hallway of the Perseus stronghold, its emptiness echoing around him, bringing him a feeling of unease.

"My life was about to change.." Vasili continued, his tone heavy with regret. "Hoping I had another reason to serve my people." He paused, bitterness creeping in as he started to hear echoey voices of the past.

A voice echoed in the background. "But I have other plans for you. Perseus thinks too highly of you."

"But who knew I was serving my loyalty.. all this time for a bunch of snakes."

"I don't want the competition."

Vasili spun around, but before he could actually act upon, it was too late. Arash Kadivar stood behind him, gun aimed with deadly precision. The shot rang out, and Vasili groaned in pain — realising that he had never hit the bullet. He was all normal in one piece, but then all his surroundings started to explode and destroy itself, as the man started to escape the facility, breaking in through doors through doors, as the voices flooded his ears.

"Comrades.. The United States and its allies slowly consume that which is dear to us."

Perseus’ voice reverberated in Vasili’s mind like a haunting refrain, the words spilling from his own lips as they mingled with the deafening roar of explosions tearing through the facility. Each step forward felt like a battle for survival as he searched desperately for an escape route amidst the chaos.

“Marshall, we’re losing him!” Woods’ voice cut through the cacophony, strained and urgent.

“Once we control the Greenlight arsenal, we will detonate them all from the safety of Solovetsky.” Perseus’ vow lingered, a specter of the mission that had led them all here.

"Stay.. out from my head!" Bursting through the final set of doors, Vasili was met with a startling vision. Perseus, in it's distorted form stood ahead, standing in front of him from a distance. Without hesitation, Vasili charged forward, forcing his way through the oppressive, crumbling reality around him.

He stumbled out into the open, his chest heaving as he collapsed to his knees. Gasping for air, he coughed, each breath ragged and desperate after the chaos he had just endured. Then, a change. He paused, realizing the air around him had shifted—it was fresh, clean, and pure, unlike anything he had felt in what seemed like an eternity.

Vasili lifted his face slightly. The sunlight struck his face, a harsh yet liberating contrast to the suffocating smoke inside.

"Vasili, are you alright?" Marshall asked, concerningly.

Vasili had gone still for a while, admiring the fresh Arctic breeze filled his lungs, and for a brief moment, he felt a sense of freedom he had always longed for. But as he took it all in, his eyes caught a faintly glowing mirror at the end of the cliff. The same mirror he saw back in his room. He could feel it.. the mirror was about to reveal the truth.

"I can finally know the truth. It's in front of me."

Marshall and Woods were eager to know about what Vasili had for him in store, despite the distractions — and his own anger and past trauma, coming in between. Vasili could reach his hand over the surface, until..

“Heroes have to make sacrifices. That’s why I’m asking you for one more, Bell.”

The voice froze him in place, sharp and unrelenting. Vasili turned, his breath hitching as realization dawned. Standing before him, was a figure — with the same shades, and scar on his face. The figure illuminated by the sunlight, revealing it to be Russell Adler. His heart raced, each beat pounding louder than the explosions behind him. Panic gripped him, and his hands began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Adler..” He whispered, the name holding disbelief and dread. “Don’t do this.”

“Adler? Was this all about him? Vasili—Vasili, calm down!” Marshall’s voice broke through, but Vasili barely heard him. He shook violently, his mind dragged back to the moment that had shattered his world.

“Woods, we need to stabilize him!”

“Please..” Vasili begged, his voice cracking with desperation. “I beg of you—don’t.”

Adler’s expression hardened. “I’m sorry, Bell. But it was never personal.”

The gunshot rang out, splitting the air with an unbearable finality. Vasili flinched, ducking instinctively as the sound left his ears ringing painfully. For a brief, harrowing moment, he braced for the impact—but none came.

Vasili opened his eyes slowly, his breath still unsteady, and what he saw made him freeze in disbelief.

There, before him, stood Bell. Who saved him from getting shot under the agent's hands. Bell had Adler lifted by the neck, his feet dangling helplessly in the air as he gasped for breath. "Bell?!" Vasili shouted.

“I thought you wouldn’t do the expected.” Bell said, his voice cold and unrecognizable, laced with fury. “So I interfered.” His glare bored into Adler, seething with the weight of betrayal and anguish. “You’ll finally know what it feels like to be in our place, you monster.”

Bell turned his gaze to Vasili, his expression unreadable, a mix of determination and something far more unsettling. “We’ve got a job to do.” He declared, his voice ringing with finality.

Suddenly, a sharp, piercing bell tone echoed through the air, as Bell and Adler flickered unnaturally, glitching away from existence before vanishing altogether. The cold Arctic air filled the void they left behind, leaving Vasili standing alone, stunned and silent.

"Adler.." Vasili murmured, his voice barely audible, the weight of realization sinking in. "He's gone. Bell took him away."

"What are you going to do?" Marshall asked him.

Due to the transmission, a fractured dimension began to take shape, where Bell had escaped with Adler.

Behind him, the mirror’s glow intensified, beckoning Vasili to step through the portal, promising to reveal the full truth about the Pantheon. Yet, something held him back. A sense of unease settled within him, and he hesitated. The pull was undeniable, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of conflict, the growing reluctance to face what lay beyond.

To be continued?

[nightlark100]

Consequences (Pt 6)

It's so dreadfully dull in the Black and White and we've been here so long. All we can do is play our games by ourselves. But this game is special. We all wanted to play with our new fwendy-wends after Gracie took away our fun. We worked together to make a brand new game!

The one in green, Wiggly Peter told himself, moved forward without seeming to walk at all.

And you are all going to play it with us

"N...No"

Wiggly stood in front of Peter. Despite his human form being slightly shorter than him, the eldritch god still seemed to loom over him.

No? That's a naughty word Petey. 

He ran his fingers across the human's cheek, sending a shudder through the boy at the strangely clammy sensation. Wiggly's glowing green eyes bored into him, penetrating his brain and drawing forth every fear, every nightmare, every bad memory. Peter began to tremble, fixed to his spot like he was frozen.

"Leave him alone!" Stephanie shouted, rushing to Pete's side and pulling him against her. The second the eye contact was broken, Peter's body slumped like his strings had been cut and he buried his face against Steph's chest. The pair of them slipped to the floor, Steph rocking her boyfriend gently as he shook in her arms.

This is taking too long. I'm tired of hearing the infants squawk. These conversations are tedious and only give them the illusion of choice.

I suppose absorbing their minds would have been better? Face it Pokey, you're not the most innovative with your ideas.

I'm simply suggesting that perhaps one of the prophets could have done this part. My Paul is always so helpful.

Your Paul isn't even yours in their timeline.

From behind the Lords, the figure stepped forward and came into view. It was the man from earlier, the one who'd called himself Uncle Wiley. As the lords bickered, he crossed to stand in front of the mortal trio and knelt down to their height.

"Here's the deal kiddies, that baby inside little Gracie there is going to bring about a new world once its born. You are going to ensure that happens. Gracie is going to carry the baby to term and when its born, sweet Stephanie is going to become its prophet. Until then, you're gonna keep her safe and ensure no one makes her leave Hatchetfield."

"Why would we agree to that?"

"Well if Gracie doesn't do what she's supposed to, that hunger she's feeling will only grow. And grow. And grow. Until there's nothing left but a vast devouring pit inside of her that is never full."

Grace whimpered. Wiley laughed.

"I hate to think what will happen to all those dirty dudes without someone to keep her in check... or did you think your friend Jason just left school after his 'date' with her?"

"Grace..." Steph whispered.

"I couldn't help it! It hurt so badly!"

"Exactly. And it's only going to get worse without help. And as for you Steph-a-nie, your choice was taken before you were even born. Haven't you wondered why your father was so reluctant to pick up the black book again? Or why the Lords didn't tell Peter to shoot you that night? They already own your soul"

"No..."

"Oh yes. In fact, I'd say the only one around here who has any kind of choice is Petey pie."

Peter lifted his head from where it was cradled against Steph's chest.

"Me?"

"Yes. You see, they want Steph to be their prophet. Their mouth piece to the masses. But they want you to be their disciple. The ones who work behind the scenes. But unlike Steph and Grace, you can say no. You just won't like what will happen."

The Lords had fallen silent and Wiley, realising their focus was on the group once more, got to his feet and retreated, bowing his head as he passed Wiggly.

"I have a choice?" Peter asked, wary of a trick.

Oh yes Petey. You see my brother, Tinky, just loves your family. He likes to collect them, especially his little Ted. All the Teddy-Bears in all the timelines go into his toy box. And he really wants to put some Petey-Pies in there too, that's why he was so so sad when you didn't die like you were supposed to

The yellow one, Tinky, eyed Peter with undisguised desire, fiddling with the glowing box in his hands.

I want the whole set to play with!

I know Tinky. Hush. If you say no to us Peter, you get to go back to your life. It won't have Steph-A-nie in it anymore of course. And when you die, Tinky will scoop up your soul and put you in his box with your brother and play with you until you are broken and twisted and then he will do it all over again for the rest of time.

Wiggly smirked, the glow in his eyes darkening from neon to deep emerald.

But if you say yes, I won't let that happen.

What?! NO! Petey is mine! Just like my Teddy-Bear! He belongs to me!

Wiggly scowled but ignored his brother's outburst and drifted closer to Peter, brushing his fingers over his hair like he had done that night.

Last time you were here, I was a little bit naughty. I stole you from Tinky. I put my mark on you.

WIGGLY!

Shut up Tinky. This is what you get for not bothering to mark him yourself. If you insist on letting your pets roam around without collars, you can't complain when someone else picks them up. I thought you learned that lesson after what happened with that secretary.

You promised you wouldn't talk about that.

I liked that one! Teddy was so funny when he barked!

It was not funny. She broke him before I could...

I don't know why you're complaining. She got one of my Paul's as well.

But you don't care what they're like when you take them. They can be broken or fixed and you just wipe them out with your stupid songs

ENOUGH

The humans flinched at the sudden shout which seemed to come from all directions, impossibly loud. Once he was sure his siblings were significantly cowed (even though Tinky was still pouting at the loss of a Spankoffski), Wiggly fixed his attention on Peter once more.

This is the offer. Stand beside your friends as a disciple, protect them from harm and you will serve for eternity. Or abandon them and live a short and meaningless life like little Ruth and Richie did, before your soul is ripped apart across time and space. That is your choice Peter.

And with that, the gym was empty and silent.

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

I have no idea if anyone's reading this, but if you are I hope that the Lords were okay in their depiction. And that you're having a nice day :)

Consequences (pt1)

In which the Lords in Black aren't fully satisfied with Grace's sacrifice (or, the pitfalls of an abstinence only sex education)

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

She hadn't wanted to kill them, Grace thought numbly as she stared down at her dirt streaked hands, unable to shake the image of her latest victims from her mind. Yes, she believed that the behaviour she'd witnessed from the young couple, drunk and making out in the park, was dirty and perverse but she didn't want to kill them. And yet when she had gotten near, it was as though she was seized by a terrible hunger and she just couldn't stop herself.

She slipped to the ground, resting her head against the side of her bed and felt tears burning her eyes. It had been a few months since everything with Max... since she had given in to the primal temptations and sacrificed her chastity to send him to hell. She should feel... something. Relief? But her insides felt like they were rotting. She'd done so many terrible things and she didn't even have her unwavering faith to fall back on anymore, not after what she'd seen in the school gym. She didn't know if the colourful figures had been demons or if they truly were gods but it felt like jagged claws had slashed apart the fabric of her soul, leaving jagged doubts behind. Doubts and hunger.

At first she'd been able to ignore it but it had gotten stronger. It would rise in waves, crescendoing down onto her when they peaked and leaving her scrabbling for purchase as her mind crumbled.

Even the brief moments of peace she usually got between the waves had been lost to her now as she found herself battling daily with nausea, sometimes barely making it from her bed to the bathroom in time. She had tried to hide it as best she could but she knew her parents were concerned, had heard them whispering while she lingered in doorways. If it continued much longer they'd want to take her to the doctor, but she knew medicine couldn't help her. Her soul was sick, that was the cause. She would just have to pray harder. Maybe she could ask Stephie and Petey for help? Surely her friends would agree to pray with her when they saw how bad things had gotten.

Struggling to her feet, feeling her stomach twist painfully as she did so, she retrieved her phone from her bedside and sent Steph a text asking to meet up.

Her friends would help. They had to.

[dykedvonte]

I think any fix-it mouthwashing au has to have the mandatory scenes of Curly either being able to blink again or speaking for the first time.

[scoriarose]

She came up with a new activity

[sleepyqweeb189]

She screamed and cried about what she did...

That hound...

It...

She...

It was...

It was so good...

The strawberries... the cream... the flavor...

It was good.

It was something she couldn't deny herself...

Look at the tags

BAAU creator: @cuppajj

[maddieandangel]

Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf

More context will be in the tags, for those interested!

[corpocyborg]

God, I will never not enjoy how surprised nearly all my younger students get when they find out how much I know about video games. Like... but you're my teacher... and you're nearly 30... and you're a woman... how can this be??? 🤯

[skrunksthatwunk]

im finally going to replay y0...

[novankenn]

Date-Day ... T-minus 36hours 23minutes

A snippet from "a Mafia" AU

Pyrrha didn't know what it was, about the Arc siblings, that caused her to feel out of sorts around them. Well she knew why she was that way with Jaune, though she would never give either her heart nor her mind the satisfaction of admitting it out loud. But Jaune's seven older sisters? She had no clue.

It wasn't like they were treating her badly. In fact they have been very welcoming to having Pyrrha around as Jaune's "bodyguard", But there was still something off about those seven women, and Pyrrha was about to voluntarily speak to the third oldest... about dating advice. Her heart fluttered at the thought of really holding Jaune's hand, and her mind... well her mind was a depraved and lewd place that she didn't want to touch right now.

With a slightly shaking hand, which was strange for Pyrrha as she was known to have ice water in her veins, and nerves of steel. Yet here she was shaking as she prepared to knock on Saphron's and her wife Terra's door. The pair were visiting the vineyard for a holiday, from their true home in Argus.

"Come in. It's open." came a very calm voice in response to Pyrrha's timid knocks. Pyrrha slowly pushed open the door and peered around its edge. "Oh, Pyrrha! Come in. Come in!"

Pyrrha plastered on what she hoped was a friendly smile, as she opened the door fully and stepped into the room. Saphron was alone in the well appointed room, sitting in a rocking chair, doing some needle point. She shot Pyrrha a smile.

"So to what do I owe this pleasant surprise visit?" Saphron asked, as she continued to work on her needle point. "I looks like you're troubled about something."

"Well... um..."

"Sit." Saphron pointed to a nearby plush chair as she set her needle work aside. Pyrrha took a seat, and then found Saphron leaning in close regarding her closely. "Is Jaune okay?"

"Jaune's perfectly healthy." Pyrrha reported. "He's in his room with Ruby and Yang playing video games."

"Good." Saphron did not sit back up, but just continued her leaning towards Pyrrha, "So?"

"Um... well... um..."

"Pyrrha, come now." Saphron leaned back into her chair, with a disappointed look upon her face. "A woman of you skills and reputation should have the spine to say what is on her mind. Now out with it."

"Date Night!" Pyrrha blurted out totally missing the comments about her skills and reputation.

"Date Night?" Saphron's warm smile became almost feral. "Are you FINALLY going on a date with Jaune? Who asked? Did you? Him?"

"No... no... Yang invited Jaune and Jaune invited me. Yang is taking Blake, and we're going to the movies, but I... I..."

"Have no idea how to act properly?"

"YES!"

"I can see you're issue." Saphron responded, her smile showing off strong gleaming teeth. "Have you come here to ask my advice?"

"YES!"

"Well firstly, calm down. This is a date, not a wedding ceremony. SO no need to be so nervous." Saphron calmly stated. "Jaune asked you because he wants you to go with him, which means he likes you and treasures your company."

"But..."

"Pyrrha, relax." Saphron still smiling her feral smile, leaned forward once again. "Everyone aside from Jaune knows you're more than you seem, and have it... bad for our adored little baby brother."

Pyrrha shivered, as Saphron said those final words. The emphasis on them giving Pyrrha the hint that a warning had just been issued. She shook the feeling away, much more interested in advice on how to not mess this up, over any implied things like threats of warnings.

"So first, dress nice but casual. No need to be fancy, it is just the movies." Saphron spoke slowly and softly, "In fact wearing that adorable hoodie he bought you would be perfect, paired with a nice pair of jeans, and sensible shoes."

Pyrrha nodded.

"Now for behavior." Saphron clasped her hand together. "This is a modern age, and as such, do not expect jaune to pay for everything. In fact you should offer to split the cost of the snacks, or pay for his and yours at the same time. We know you have the money."

Pyrrha nodded, again, totally missing the end comment.

"Now, just relax and enjoy the time together. Jaune is not going to get upset if you seem hesitant. He will think you're being shy, and not that you are a trained assassin sent to... hurt him." Saphron's vivid blue eyes flashed and her smile grew sinister.

"NO!" Pyrrha shouted as her date night addled mind just now cluing in on what Saphron had just said. She tried to jump from her chair, only to find a pair of strong hands pushing her down into the chair, by her shoulders.

"Thank you babe. I really didn't want to be chasing her through the house." Saphron addressed the owner of the hands holding Pyrrha in the chair. "Pyrrha, you know my wife... Terra."

"Hello!" Terra greeted Pyrrha, leaning over her shoulder, to shoot her a less than comforting smile.

"I..."

"Please be quiet, Pyr." Saphron cut off Jaune's failed would-be assassin by using Jaune's own pet name for her. "We've been watching you, and we're impressed. Even though you... originally were meant to end the life of our precious brother, you have instead been protecting him, that's points in your favor."

"You knew?"

"Of course my dear. We know about you, the five other attempts. We even know about Belladonna and her new line of work." Terra informed Pyrrha from over her shoulder as Saphron shifted in her seat, and began to unbutton the top of her shirt. "And as long as you continue to do as you have been, we have no issue with you being here, or even sharing a room with him."

"I would never..."

"We know you won't Pyr." Saphron commented, her steelie voice causing Pyrrha to focus her full attention on her. "We have faith in the strength of your... love for Jaune."

Pyrrha was stunned into silence not just from the blantant statement from Saphron, but also for what she was seeing. There inked into the flesh of Saphron's left breast, close to where the heart is was a very specific tattoo. A tattoo all knew about, but few if any had ever seen, and Pyrrha was staring at one right now.

"The Sisters of Mercy..." Pyrrha spoke that title with almost worshipful reverence, and utter ass puckering fear. It was at that point she understood why she was always on edge around Jaune's sisters, "You all are?"

"Yes. ALL Arc women are."

(A/N - All the titles now link back to the master list.)

[bumblingbeezzz]

Yeah unfortunately "autistic" IS now what many awful people use to mean "irredeemable failure"/"stupid"/"weird"/"unapproachable"/"socially inept" nowadays. So even that may not help.

Especially sucks when you see neurotypical people adopting the more positive traits associated w autism and then bully you for actually being on the spectrum and making you feel like “well if they can act the same way I do minus the bad stuff ig I really am useless and not special at all really” so then "poof!" your silver lining is gone too.

Not telling your kid they have a learning disability, chronic illness, mental illness etc. so they can “feel normal” actually does the opposite. They will not feel normal if they do not have the context to understand that their normal will be different from that of their peers.

[weaselle]

had an interaction with a cat at my mother's friend's house (we dropped by to feed her while my mom's friend was out of town) and my mother said "i was surprised how much that cat liked you, she doesn't usually let people pet her but she followed you around and let you pet her a lot"

and in explaining to her my interaction with the cat i put into words a thing i'd never put into words before, having always automatically understood what i was doing. But once i put it into words my mother said she'd never thought of that and it felt like something worth sharing here.

This cat did a typical cat thing where she sniffed my fingers i was holding out, and then acted like she wanted me to pet her, but then when i started to move to pet her, moved her head away slightly to prevent it.

I instinctively understand this interaction, and stopped trying to pet her and moved back to a neutral position and waited to see if she would re-initiate an interaction.

Because this is basically a consent test. This is how a cat can assess "how closely are you paying attention to what i'm telling you" and "how respectful of my boundaries are you".

If i am responsive to her yes/no game, moving to pet her when she indicates i can, stopping immediately when she seems to change her mind, then she knows she can trust me to understand her, and also to respect her choices. That's what i did, so then she knew she could trust me and relax around me and enjoy my company. She was actually a very friendly and social little cat, who clearly wanted to make friends with me.

But if i had insisted on trying to pet her when she seemed to change her mind instead of simply understanding that she didn't want to be pet in that moment, she would have known she couldn't trust me to understand or respect her, and she would have treated me like she has to treat 90% of the people who visit that house, evidently.

I work mostly with dogs these days, but i grew up with cats too, and am generally good with animals. Many shy animals will also do this same "sniff sniff okay touch me nope just kidding" routine, especially if they've had experiences with people that make establishing that kind of communication and trust important to them.

And in fact, a lot of animals will do some version of this kind of consent test in a whole variety of situations. When well socialized dogs do that thing where they are rough housing and then they both stop suddenly for a moment until one of them play bows or makes a little pouncing motion and then they fly back into rough housing mode, that's what they are doing, they are doing a consent check-in, like "whoah this is getting wild, are you still in? are we still playing, is this still a good time for you?"

anyway, that's why this lovely little cat followed me around asking me to pet her the whole time we were visiting that house, because i showed her that i understood her signals and respected her boundaries, which is something i see a lot of both men and women not doing when interacting with cats and dogs.