#( side muse ) dahlia

[angstywaifu]

The Lost Sister - Part 33

Synopsis: Xaden is known as an only child due to his sister who 'died' during the Rebellion. Little do they know she didn't die and has been so close this entire time.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Ophelia Riorson)

A/N: Little bit of a shorter part today, but I've not had the time to work on a one shot fic this week. I will probably only be posting Lost Sister for the next bit. I'm very close to the end of the Fourth Wing part and I really want to smash it out and then focus on Dahlia and one shots before moving into Ophelia's story for Iron Flame. So get ready for all the Lost Sister! The Lost Sister Masterlist | Masterlist

“So she has a book that might help?” I ask as I stand in front of Garrick and Xaden at the leadership table, which is surprisingly empty at the moment

”I think so. It was some book of Fables her father left her and it had some cryptic note in it for her. From what I saw on the pages it talks about some ancient kingdom and a Great War amongst brothers to control magic. I’d place money on it being a good starting point for your signet after what Carr and Melgren have let slip.” He says as his gaze drifts to Violet who sits with our squad.

”So go get us this book then.” Garrick says teasingly, as if its the easiest thing in the world.

Xaden shakes his head at him as he rolls his eyes at him, his gaze still focused on Violet.

”It’s not that easy.” He mumbles as he picks up his fork and stabs at his breakfast.

”Maybe if you just admitted-” Garrick starts before Xaden gives him a pointed look.

I open my mind to Xaden and feel the mix of anger and… oh god. Fucking mated dragons again. This phrase was becoming a normal part of my vocabulary with these two. The anger had come from Garrick’s words, but as I reach out towards Violet I know exactly where the other feelings were coming from.

”So that’s what the new armoire was for.” I tease as Xaden shifts his eyes to me, a silent warning to shut up, probably knowing I can read his emotions right now.

”Oh you should have seen the mess.” Garrick adds, joining in on the teasing.

I feel Xaden’s anger and annoyance flair at Garrick’s words. He knew exactly how to push Xaden’s buttons.

“Can you two just shut up?” He asks in an attempt at a commanding tone.

”And where would be the fun in that?” Garrick muses as Xaden returns to his food.

Xaden barely takes two bites of his food before he’s choking and spluttering on it, Garrick pounding on his back before grabbing some water. I turn around to see the entire quadrant staring at Xaden, but over at our squad table Violet is grinning at Xaden and I know instantly she was the cause of Xaden’s choking. Fucking mated dragons. I turn away, leaving a still slightly choking Xaden and a laughing Garrick behind, to find the one person I need to see before the day ends. I catch a glimpse of pink hair disappearing through the doors leading to formation. I rush down the dais stairs, pushing through a small crowd of cadets also heading to formation. Breaking through the crowd, I spot the pink hair disappearing around a corner.

"Imogen!" I call out, managing to catch her attention as she turns to look.

”You’re up to something.” She tells me as I catch up to her, falling into step as we walk to the Rotunda.

”Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I say shyly, already being called out.

She just shakes her head and laugh. “You are. You get the same look in your eye that Xaden does.”

I go to object but the look she gives me has me shutting my mouth. She’s probably right.

”Fine, you’re right. But you can’t tell anyone. Think you can find me some hair dye?”

@riorgail @going-through-shit @fw-gt @bbkissme99 @xceafh @leptitlu @came-to-laugh-but-cried @onthewaytotimbuktu @daardyrnitta @lovemesomevesey @mxtokko @krowiathemythologynerd @callsign-blue @1islessthan3books @side-angel @wolfbc97 @just-an-ace-elf

[okaerina]

𖥻 zb1﹎my love playlist 🪡 ˒𓆩⠀⠀⠀

tw! ; angst, fluff, a bit suggestive, lowercase intended.

jiwoong— try again (by jaehyun x d.ear) ˒ ꙳

despite you and your lover both being from two different worlds, you two still try to stay together forever. all those little arguments and making up only makes your long distanced relationship stronger, pulling each other closer, growing up more mature as you two learn and love everything together. step by step, little by little.

❛ I'm always on your side, we'll be alright ˳ ⋆

zhanghao— old love (by yuji x putri dahlia) ˒ ꙳

dating hao was the most beautiful thing that has ever been done by you. he was the epitome of lovely. just like him, dates planned by him were the best too. that summer night where he stole your first kiss under the full moon or when he ditched the prom with you just so he could slow dance with you at a secret place in the school's backyard, constantly showering you with kisses and muttering how pretty you look in that dress. he surely made you feel all sorts of love.

❛ come on and hold me, I want you right here ˳ ⋆

hanbin— only (by lee hi) ˒ ꙳

he was your dream love and you were his. shy sneaky glances, lingering touches, countless daydreams, sleepless nights thinking about one another and all heart eyes. but none of you were confident or sure enough to confess until you initiate your proposal first and things become so much dreamy and lovely as both of you dwell in eachothers warmth ever after.

❛ my only one, everytime i see you, i want to have you ˳ ⋆

matthew— 10 months (by enhypen) ˒ ꙳

your childhood friend that's a mix resemblance of a cute puppy and the bright smiley sun has been confessing to you ever since you two learned to talk properly. being the mature yet younger one you couldn’t help but giggle at his desperate attempts and defending pouts. but as you two grow up your feelings become more and more prominent and so does his attempts of proving himself that he's your dream man now and your left with no choice but to accept his cute love.

❛ starting tomorrow I'll protect you, all day all night ˳ ⋆

taerae— double take (by dhruv) ˒ ꙳

sleepless nights he spends writing verses of love songs dedicated to you, his friendly classmate. his crush on you is so obvious yet shocking to everone. you’re his muse, his little happy love and he's planning to make his move this prom night with the specially readied song before anyone elss claims you.

❛ tell me, do you feel the love? ˳ ⋆

ricky— beside you (by keshi) ˒ ꙳

no matter how hard you try to deny it, it seems like you’ve taken a bit more interest in that crazy rich heartthrob who's trying to court you, constantly seeking for your attention and perhaps some love. (ps. your ex crush long that you were planning to confess long forgotten) he declares that It's love at first sight and tries to prove he is the best one for you. your the best thing that happened to him and lover boy is absolutely whipped for you. he's never felt such devoted love hehe. so will you be able to ignore him and your blooming feelings? spoiler : you wont ;)

❛ you say this ain't love, but it's the same love ˳ ⋆

gyuvin— every summertime (by niki) ˒ ꙳

you never knew your usual normal summer would be romanticised by a certain goofball and become this exciting and lovely. that summer left a strong warmth in your heart as you fell for him harder than ever and you knew that was it, that this boy named kim gyuvin wss the only one you’ll ever need in not only summer but the whole year, wishing to grow up in eachothers loving embrace.

❛ every year we get older, but I'm still on your side ˳ ⋆

gunwook— love story (by taylor swift) ˒ ꙳

that evening was a truly magical one. you on the balcony watching the sun go down the horizon as your new neighbour's son's figure across the street underneath attracts your attention, meeting eye to eye and suddenly your stomach feels all funny as your pulse rises. that was the start of your little romeo-juliet story but with a happily ever after. sneaking out at the middle of the night with him, skipping classes for quick picnics and doing all sorts of funsies you swore you’ll never do.

❛ It's a love story, baby, just say "yes!" ˳ ⋆

yujin— softcore (by the neighbourhood) ˒ ꙳

being in a secret relationship with an idol wasn’t so easy as you were stuck in the four confines of your room, occupied with studies and yujin on his run around the world doing various promotions and practices to secure his position as a qualified idol. but even in amidst of all you two survive on eachother, comforting and strengthing one another, keeping eachother alive from this hell of a life and healing the wounded souls of one another beacause everything's okay on nights where he sneaks into your room and you take a break for him.

❛ i might need you or I'll break ˳ ⋆

© aenfilmz / 2023

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt

[cultofdionysusnet]

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓸𝓯 𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼

It's spring and the flowers are blooming! Take a walk through a cultivated garden or a wild meadow to inhale the wonderful medley of aromas provided by mother nature. But with each blossom and bundle of pollen is always an underlying meaning. Whether you're broken hearted, attempting to explain your feelings, or simply looking for subtly-worded revenge, flowers can be your language.

°˖��✿✧˖°MUST INCLUDE! mentions of flowers, gardens and spring

°˖✧✿✧˖°You must also pick a flower from the prompts provided and utilize the meaning somewhere within your fic

°˖✧✿✧˖°Minimum word count is 500

°˖✧✿✧˖°deadline: June.19th

°˖✧✿✧˖°must be a member of our net to participate

°˖✧✿✧˖°all network rules in regards to posting applies

°˖✧✿✧˖°please use the hashtag #codn: spring24 for all posts submitted for the event

The Prompts:

Amaryllis- Shy

Anemone (white)- Sincere

Ambroisa- Pious

Aster Tataricus- remembrance

Black Lily - love, curse

Bluebell - grateful

Cactus (flower) - lust, sex

Camellia (red)- in love, perishing with grace

Camellia (yellow) - longing

Camellia (white)- waiting

Carnation - fascination, distinction, love

Cherry Blossom - kind, gentle, transience of life

Chrysanthemum (yellow) - imperial

Chrysanthemum (white) - truth

Four-leaf Clover - lucky

Daffodil - respect

Dahlia - good taste

Daisy - faith

Edelweiss - courage, power

Erica - solitude

Forget-me-not - true love

Freesia - childish, immature

Gardenia - secret love

Hibiscus - gentle

Honeysuckle - generous

Iris - good news, glad tidings, loyalty

Jasmine (Arabian/Spanish) - friendly, graceful

Lavender - faithful

Lily (white) - purity, chastity

Lily of Incas - such strong connection that language is limited when trying to explain it

Lily (orange) - hatred, revenge

Lily of the Valley/ Spider Lily - sweet

Lotus - far from the one he loves, purity, chastity

Magnolia - Natural

Mistletoe/holly - looking for love

Morning Glory- willful promises

Narcissus- self esteem

Pansy- thoughtful, caring

Peony- bravery

Poppy (red)- fun loving

Poppy (white)- rejoice

Poppy (yellow)- success

Rose (red)- love, in love

Rose (white)- innocence, silence, devotion

Rose (yellow)- jealousy

Rose (pink)- trust, happiness, confidence

Spider Lily (red) - never meet again, lost memory, abandonment

Sunflower - respect, passionate love, radiance

Sweet Pea- goodbye

Tiger Lily - wealth

Tulip (red)- fame, charity, trust

Tulip (Yellow)- one sided love

Verbena- cooperative

Violet- honesty

White Egret Orchid - purity, delicateness, "I'll be thinking of you even in my dreams"

Zinnia- loyalty

Like always, have fun with our first seasonal event of the year, may you be blessed with the muse, and The Fates look forward to your submissions~!

[metalbvcky]

Bloom!Verse Masterlist

It's been three years since the birth of this enormous series. I never thought a oneshot (which became eight chapters) could lead me to such character development and world building, but here we are. And I'm still writing, the muse hasn't died, and I'm not nearly finished (or ever will be). The lore is ✨ infinite ✨ So I thought I'd make an updated masterpost— in chronological order (as it's been written in reverse)— for the new year. Aster should be finished by the late spring and then I'll likely start the wedding fic 😉 I still have dozens of ideas for this series, it's insane. In fact, I have a poly fic in the works, I just need to continue and finish it 😋

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Shelves of Aster - 96k (WIP)

Tags: Alternative Universe - Bookstore, Sugar Daddy, Meet Cute, First Meetings, Age Difference, Falling In Love, Healthy Relationships, Experienced Dom/Inexperienced Sub Snippet: Their eyes lock the second Steve pulls back slightly. They gaze at each other for what feels like forever, as if a magical force is drawing them in, closer, and closer until neither of them can ignore the tension surrounding them. Steve’s breath puffs against Bucky’s lips when he speaks, “Can I kiss you?”

Peach and Lemon Blossoms - 1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Office Sex, Implied Top Steve/Bottom Bucky, PWP Snippet: Bucky has always fantasized about office sex, and always found the risk to be a bit thrilling. He made sure to lock the door before he came inside, so there wasn’t a chance of anyone walking in on them, though there was still a possibility someone could knock.

Rose Blue - 60k, 8 chapters (complete)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, 24/7 D/S relationship dynamic, Kinky Husbands In Love, a whole bunch of smut tags Snippet: Steve smiles at Bucky before he reaches across the dresser, to the dedicated spot where they keep their accessories and things. Draped around a velvet bust is a sterling silver choker, the petite chain link gleaming in the soft lamplight. Beside the bust is a ring boat containing a wedding band that matches the one attached to the choker’s oval pendant, curved downward. Blue accent roses decorate the gold tinted sides, a crystal stone shining in the center with leaves tucked throughout.

Dreams of Poppy Fields (3 times Bucky pretended to be asleep and 1 time Steve caught him) - 4.8k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Fluffy and Smut, Light Angst, Possessive Steve Snipppet: Steve kneels down to pry the trowel out of Bucky’s hand from where he’d been tending to the garden. He slides Bucky’s stained gardening gloves off and tosses them aside, out of Dum-E’s reach. It isn’t the first time he’s had to carry Bucky to bed, and it surely won’t be the last, so Steve sees no problem in picking him up.

A Mug Filled with Pink Irises - 2.3k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Kitchen Sex Snippet: Steve crosses his legs, fixated on Bucky’s exposed collar bone from the low-cut neckline. Peppering kisses to his husband’s neck, not to mention sucking on the most sensitive spots, has always been his favorite part about foreplay.

Dark Dahlias at the Annual Potts/Romanov Costume Party - 6.5k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Halloween, Humor, House Party, Domestic Fluff, Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov Snippet: “Give me your best sexual pick-up line,” Bucky says, one-hundred percent intending to use it on Steve, if Nat doesn’t beat him to it. Clint leans against the counter, scratching his head in thought. Dressed as Fred Jones is truly uncanny for this particular moment. “I’m peanut butter. You’re jelly. Let’s have sex?”

Wild Amaranth Desires - 5.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Roleplay, Cages, Leashes, Blink and you'll miss it mention of a threesome Snippet: Bassy music thrums through the walls, the sound rushing in and around the small, closed-off area. A few multi-colored lights gently strobe in the background, occasionally highlighting over the cage that sits in the middle of the room.

Amaryllis in Baskets - 1.3k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, PWP, Dirty Talk, Cooking Snippet: Now here they are, Steve finishing up lunch while Bucky sits at the breakfast table with the warm, afternoon sun slipping through the curtains.

His Precious Primrose - 4.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Christmas, PWP, Aftercare Snippet: Steve takes the steps one at a time, his cotton, calf-length robe grazing the railing. Once at the bottom, he strolls through the hallway and into the kitchen, passing the dining room while on his way. He walks slowly, with no rush at all, when a gift wrapped up in front of the lit fireplace slips into the corner of his vision.

Identical Mauve Carnations - 3.6k (oneshot)

Tags: Established Relationship, Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Dream Sequence, Wet Dream, Self-cest, Bucky/Bucky, Winter Soldier Bucky Snippet: “It’s been a while since I’ve been with a pretty thing like you,” James purrs, reaching up to brush a metal knuckle over Bucky’s cheek. “Think you can handle being with me?”

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Because I know not everyone reads threesomes, I've listed the rest under the cut (and this post is long enough) 😉

Cattails In the Rogers-Barnes Household (A Scavenger Hunt for Lube, 5 +1) - 12k, 2 chapters (complete)

Tags: Married Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Threesomes, Pre-Poly, Dom Loki, Switch Loki Snippet: Loki vaults themself forward and successfully closes the door without alerting anyone. They scan the room slowly, spotting every little detail. The desk is rather tidy, however, the sitting area is the polar opposite. Magazines are scattered across the floor, throw pillows shoved to the side, and overall just in a disarray. What really catches their eye is the pair of leather cuffs poking out between the cushions, along with a thin strap for a blindfold.

A Toy to Share, Restrained by Coriander - 6.7k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Pre-Poly, BDSM scene Snippet: Loki pushes off of the wall from where they’d been leaning, arms no longer crossed, and takes a couple of long, determined steps. Bucky cranes his neck up due to Loki’s height, just an odd number of inches taller than him. Both of their gazes are locked in on each other, eyes unmoving while Loki curves a single finger under Bucky’s jaw.

Strangled by Thoughts of Poison Ivy (Bucky Rogers-Barnes and the No Good, Very Bad Week) - 9.2k (oneshot)

Tags: Pre-Poly, Scene Gone Wrong, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst Snippet: Steve doesn't think, he just reacts, his body moving on its own as he scrambles to loosen the straps holding Bucky in before he hurts himself. The second they loosen even a fraction, Bucky breaks free, scrambling rapidly backward off of the bench, his back slamming into the wall behind them. Steve tries to catch him but Bucky pulls his arm away, and god, it feels like a stab to the heart to watch Bucky curl on himself like a wounded animal.

Honeysuckles Growing on the Window Sill - 22k, 5 chapters (complete)

Tags: Threesomes, Feelings Realization, Friends to Lovers, Relationship Discussions, Fluff and Smut Snippet: Steve’s face turns serious, absolute fondness written in his expression. “Without a doubt in my mind. You were so beautiful for me,” he says, voice turning soft as he tucks a loose strand of Loki’s hair behind their ear. “I really like you, Loki. We like you.”

Lobelias in the Meeting Room - 4k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Light Angst, Fluff and Smut Snippet: Loki follows Steve with their eyes, holding their gaze until Steve comes to a stop near them, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed. They regard Bucky with a soft look before capturing his lips, inhaling through their nose as arousal swells in their stomach.

A Threatening Snakeroot (Hidden in the Crowd) - 7.1k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sex Club Snippet: As Bucky is led down the hallway, taking an immediate right, Loki directs him over to the side of the bar. There’s a square pedestal off to the side, which was added the same day Bucky received his pillow. A sign on the left of it read, ‘Pet on Display,’ while on the right it said, ‘ Display Only - Do Not Touch.’ It was a nice little spot to watch people come and go, and was close enough to the bar that Val could help keep an eye out for him if Loki and Steve weren't nearby.

Succulent Strawberries, Dangling from the Branches - 1.6k (oneshot)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Domestic, Bookstores Snippet: The warmth of Steve’s breath causes a shiver to travel through Bucky’s back. He lets out a whine upon the slender hand urging him back inside, his legs going into autopilot mode as his doms tower over him. The door shuts with an audible click, followed by the window shades rolling down and blocking the evening sunlight.

The First Sprouts of Spring - 1.6k (oneshot-- recently switched to complete since my brain had other ideas back in 2021)

Tags: Threesomes, Polyamory, Fluff and Smut, Cuddling & Snuggling Snippet: As Steve steps onto the porch for a few pieces of wood, Loki strolls over to the closet and takes out some blankets. They return to find Steve rearranging the furniture, pushing the two couches together, creating a square hollow. They promptly hand the stack of blankets to Steve at his instruction, then head back to check up on Bucky.

[rythmicjea]

On the last day of summer vacation... The Writer and His Muse

Full disclosure, I wrote another version of this last night. It was... factually correct. But it just wasn't good. So I saved it and took a few steps away and realized what I was supposed to be writing. I apologize now this is going to be long.

When I came up with the idea to write this series, I wasn't sure of the structure. If I'm honest, I still don't know lol. And after being called the "Riverdale Analysis Auteur" (thank you @storkmuffin ❤️), I promise to do the utmost to put forth only my best for you. There isn't going to be an uploading schedule so follow the tag "Code Word Jeronica" to see when I post.

My intention with this is to show that from the pilot there has always been the opportunity for Jeronica. I know what you're saying "there's an opportunity for ALL pairings."

And, yes, while you are correct. There were some possibilities that were more feasible than others (Sorry Jarchies!). For the skeptics out there, the showrunners did chemistry tests with so many pairings. Cole even admitted that he did one with Cami and he was open to a Jughead/Veronica relationship "It's the CW, anything can happen"! Coding isn't always intentional or needs to be taken seriously. And that's okay. As a writer myself, I understand the "side character curse" all too well.

With all of that being said, I will only be focusing on the evidence we get in the show itself. I may reference the comics sporadically (like how Jughead and Veronica have been paired up/dated several times in the comics, throughout the comic's history. Below is a picture from Pep #154 in 1962!) but I'll never reference anything outside of the source material as evidence.

The Writer and His Muse

It's established from the pilot that Jughead is a writer, an aspiring novelist. All writers need a muse. Something that inspires them to put pen to paper. In Greek Mythology, Muse was a Greek Goddess who gave inspiration to all. Often, a muse is referred to as a beautiful woman but it can be anything. The show Riverdale is the muse for fanfiction writers who write in the universe. Jughead has several muses throughout the show. He goes through various tribulations with his writing. We see him suffer with writer's block, make a deal with the devil (both Jugheads in Rivervale), and we know that the story that put him on the map was a telling of him and his friends.

In the overall show we know of five big stories that Jughead writes. Jason Blossom's murder, The Red Dahlia, Killing Mr. Honey, The Outcasts, and Bend. Towards. Justice. All follow a pretty basic plotline. Something happens, a group of teens have to investigate, there's a surprise twist, and then a resolution.

But, through all of these he has one muse that is constant. Would you believe me if I told you it was our fair Veronica? Because it is. Before you ask "What about Betty?", let me ask you the same. What about her? She is a character in his stories. Sometimes she's the main character. But being the main character and being a muse are two very different things. Veronica's presence in his stories symbolize different major elements to a story. More than any other Riverdale character.

Throughout the series we see Jughead struggle with his writing. His father tells him to keep writing as a way to get out of Riverdale and not get caught up with the Serpents. We see him have profound writer's block, plagiarize another author, change the way he writes due to his disability, and physically lose his ability to write. His writer's block, and the complications with it, start in season 5 and aren't resolved until season 6.

Here's an unexpected bonus from helping Veronica...

...I started writing again.

She is, and has always been, his muse. This is the first time he acknowledges it, but the clues have been there since day one.

Jason Blossom's Murder

The first story begins with the pilot's very first scene. It also introduces the audience to a concept called "The Center of a Story". The center of a story is just how it sounds. It is the element that brings everyone together. However, while this can be the main character and what that character goes through, it can simply be a person or place that has very little interaction at all with the main story. In a murder mystery, which Season 1 is, the center of a story can be the murder victim. In telling that story we can either have flashbacks of the person's life up until they are killed; or, they are simply the reason why everyone comes together (and not even just to find out why. Sometimes the why isn't necessary).

Jason Blossom is the center of the story. It's all about finding out who killed him. But the muse of the story? The hook? The character's entrance that actually connects everyone together? That's Veronica. "On the last day of summer vacation, a new mystery rolled into town." Jason's murder is the B-plot of the season. It might have kicked everything off, and the action might be connected to him, but it's not the entire reason why Jughead is writing this book. In fact, the opening soliloquy says:

Our story is about a town, a small town, and the people who live in the town. From a distance it presents itself like so many other small towns all over the world. Safe, decent, innocent. Get closer though? And you start seeing the shadows underneath. The name of our town is Riverdale.

The story was never about Jason Blossom.

The Red Dahlia

I'm not going to touch on this much, because I have a whole post planned just about this episode. But, I want to point out that out of all of the stories we see him write, this is the only story that focuses solely on one character. It's completely about Veronica. She, like Jason, is the catalyst. The difference is that, unlike Jason, she plays a major role.

Killing Mr. Honey

In his last story to submit to the University of Iowa, it's about how seven teenagers try to get rid of their unethical and overbearing principal. We have known up to this point that Jughead loves horror. He likes to write "Lovecraftian" style stories. The difference between the two are HPL rejected morality. He considered himself a "Morality Atheist". Jughead, on the other hand, loves morality tales. (In 1955 there's a whole episode about it.) This is most evident in this telling. Each character represents an architype. Veronica, arguably, is the most important architype. She represents morality. She's the only one who really challenges what they are doing. Specifically, Jughead. At face value someone can go "Well, Jughead and Veronica aren't friends so it makes sense". First off, no, they very much are friends. But, second, if they weren't, why put her in such a place of honor. In actuality, given his character in the show (and the comics), Archie should be the moral compass of the story.

The Outcasts

The Outcasts is really the only story that we have very little knowledge of. I freely admit that for evidence, it's the weakest of the five. It presents coded details for the audience to infer their meaning. Jughead is the Viper Leader, the Serpents are the Vipers, but is Betty The Homecoming Queen? Most likely. The co-ed he takes home tells him that he wrote a "very sexy book" in regards to the Viper Leader and the Homecoming Queen. However, in his drunken voicemail, he lambasts Betty. One line in particular stands out "You're a cold, fake, duplicitous bitch. And once people read my book, everyone's going to see that". Now, we don't know what is in the book (Kind of wish they'd released it) and it could end with the Homecoming Queen cheating on the Viper Leader with the Football Captain (I'm inferring that that would be Archie's character). Or, they could have lived happily ever after. Or... using the ambiguity to stretch the possibility... the Homecoming Queen could have been Veronica.

Why? Well, there's a reason why the Enemies to Lovers trope is so popular. What better way to get back at your ex for cheating but to immortalize their best friend (who was also cheated on by your best friend) as the true-love-fairy-tale-princess of your wildly popular NYT best seller?

Bend. Towards. Justice.

The last story we see Jughead write is when they've been taken back to 1955. 7x01 is very reminiscent of the pilot. But, for Jughead and his writing, it's always been in the details. Season 7 is my favorite season, and trust me, I have a lot to say about what happens. So, I'll keep this brief. Even when he describes Tabitha it's very factual. There's no emotion. He lists who she is and the reason why she might know what's going on. Please don't take this to mean that at this point he isn't still in love with her, because he very much is. When he sees her, he doesn't know the 1955 version isn't his girlfriend. He keeps all of his emotions bottled up until he can figure out a plan. And to spare her from any craziness because her memories also might be gone. Up until this point, everyone's description is "This person is here, and this is who they are". Including himself.

For starters I live in an abandoned train car with Hot Dog which... actually tracks... Betty and Kevin aren't merely friends, they're dating. Cheryl's twin brother is alive, but he's not Jason, he's Julian. No sign of a Reggie yet. But Archie exists and he's pretty much a teen Charles Atlas... I've been waiting to reconnect with the one person who might shed some light on our predicament because she was both Chronokenetic and the town's guardian angel. My girlfriend, Tabitha Tate.

He mentions that all of this information is "overwhelming, heartbreaking". But he doesn't say why because there are many reasons why. His best friends don't remember anything. Do they even really know him? With one one question he realizes that the person he loves doesn't love him back. But he breaks this way of introducing the "characters" when he introduces Veronica. It's all emotion. There's even a sexy jazz trumpet riff announcing her.

"Damn..." His thoughts whispered to him breathlessly. "Even in 1955, Veronica Lodge still knew how to make an entrance." He goes from boredom to attention. He straightens his shoulders, he sits up to see her better, and he doesn't blink. Like everyone else, and very unlike him, his whole attention is on her.

THE PILOT

Now that we've gone through the five major stories we know he writes, let's go back to the end to see the beginning. The last episode of the entire series ends with a typewriter. All of the stories mentioned above are stories written within the main one. Riverdale itself is a story (possibly Archie Comics fanfiction) written by Jughead.

The pilot itself, as all TV shows, has a narrative woven throughout. There's characters, conflict, plot, etc. Though the episode opens with Jason's murder the pilot was never about that. Hell, Jughead is barely featured in it. We see him two significant times. The first time is two minutes in, where he's drinking his coffee writing his story. And he says the classic line, "We were still talking about the Fourth of July tragedy on the last day of summer vacation, when a new mystery rolled into town." We are introduced to Veronica Lodge, by Jughead, right after we're introduced to him. At this point he's only named Cheryl and Jason Blossom as that is the impetus for this show/season. "There needs to be a dead body".

The pilot is about Veronica. She moves to Riverdale, she meets Archie and Betty, she mentions Our Town, and her desire for Archie is established. Compared to Veronica, it takes 8 minutes to mention Jason again and 10 minutes to bring him back into the plot. Then nothing significant happens with him until the very end of the episode! But even after that brief interlude it's only 5 minutes later Veronica is given her first conflict. And by the halfway point, she's thoroughly decimated said conflict.

So, Miss Auteur, why are you bringing this up?

Because Riverdale was supposed to be about Archie. But by the end of the first half of the first episode Veronica is the only character to have a full plot arc and even an epilogue! More importantly, she is immediately woven into the fabric of the town. Even though the Varchie romance is introduced we must remember how the episode is being framed.

If you compare the narration to the writing on Jughead's laptop, it doesn't match up. Cole Sprouse might have read everything on said laptop and it was shortened for time. But, I wouldn't read too much into the discrepancies. I mean, the previous two pages are exact copies of each other lol. And while there might not be numbered pages it's at least four and I'm baffled about what he could have written prior to the opening lines. Also, as a writer, there are the things we think we're going to write and the things we actually do write (For example, I wrote a 16 chapter 100k+ Zack and Cody fanfic, and I didn't know the show existed! The Suite Adult Life). Our thoughts vs our words carry weight to a story. An argument can be made that either position is the most important. Is it better to write out that which we keep so closely guarded so it may live on in infamy? Or are the most profound thoughts those we keep closest to our chests?

Though one little line stands out when I do read it...

"See, the Blossoms had their tendrils wrapped around the entire town - no one wanted to make enemies of them."

Who is the person not wrapped up in their tendrils? And who immediately made an enemy of Cheryl Blossom?

Bisous, Bisous... Votre Auteur.

[aquagirl1978]

First I wanna say, you're such an amazing writer!

I seen your New Year, New Celebrations

If possible could I request

Nokto Klein + touch prompt #12 + 🌶

Please and thank you!

Thank you for your kind words and this request! I'm sorry in advance if this ended up more angsty than spicy, I went where the muse took me 😭

Red Rain - Nokto Klein x Reader (Ikemen Prince)

A/N: Part of my New Year, New Celebration event

Pairing: Nokto Klein x Reader

Prompt: reaching for the other in the dark

Tags: none

Nokto hated the rain. 

Rain was cold and dreary – it could turn a day gray and miserable and make everything wet. 

And it was raining that day in the forest, the day of the hunt. The day when he ripped open his every wound and exposed himself to you as the scarred beast he was.

Nokto winced, squeezing his eyes tight, as if each drop of rain outside stung his skin. Why did he have to wake up in the middle of a rain storm?

He rolled over onto his side and watched as you slept peacefully. You, the one he loved more than anything; you, the one who loved him despite his past. 

How he wanted to wake you and tell you how badly he needed you right now. How he needed to be held in your arms, a place where he was safe from his past. 

But that would be cruel to wake you. To burden you with his demons. 

So instead, he watched you, his crimson eyes gazing at you adoringly as your chest rose and fell with each soft breath. Unable to help himself, he reached out to you, his thumb ghosting your cheek. 

“Nokto?” your voice slurred with sleep as you stirred in your spot. 

He froze, pulling his hand away immediately.

“Did the rain wake you?” he asked softly.

You rubbed your eyes as you glanced around the room seeped in darkness, the pitter-patter of the rain growing louder. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Come here,” he offered, his arm outstretched, trembling slightly, waiting to hold you close against his chest.

Accepting his offer, you pressed your body against his, your bodies fitting together perfectly like puzzle pieces. He stroked your cheek, then tilted your jaw upwards before his lips met yours in a kiss. 

His hands wandered down your back, eager and needy as he pulled your body closer to his, the heart in his chest thudding rapidly against yours. 

You parted your mouth, deepening the kiss, the sound of the rain dampened by the soft sighs leaving your lips, the heat of your passion radiating between your bodies that would end in an evening of pleasure.

Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @wendolrea @aceuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage

[fanficapologist]

Of Dragons and Maelstroms

Themes and Warnings: slow burn, enemies to lovers, blood, violence, explicit language, sexual violence, period-typical misogyny, sexual themes, smut, tension, marriage, jealousy, pregnancy, childbirth, miscarriage, attempted sexual assault, breastfeeding, major character death, divergent timelines

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood/Game of Thrones characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Chapter Nineteen

Maera had come to appreciate the new routine she had established in her life at the Red Keep. The early morning sparring sessions with Aemond, the quick return to her chambers for a change of clothing with the help of Thena, and then the rest of her day dedicated to assisting Queen Helaena in her various duties. Her days were a whirlwind of tasks, but Maera embraced them wholeheartedly. She stood by the queen's side through courtly affairs and diplomatic meetings, always ready with a reassuring smile or a whispered word of encouragement. Some days she would attend to the twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, whether the role be tutor or entertainer, her time with the children brought her immense enjoyment.

Aemond's absence during his duties in the Riverlands, quelling rumored rebellions and ensuring loyalty to the crown, became a recurring pattern. When he returned, Maera noted a slightly better mood about him, likely a reflection of his success in managing the realm's affairs. It was a welcome sight, even if their interactions remained punctuated by their shared history and the complex emotions they both harbored. Maera couldn't help but admire his dedication to his responsibilities, even if it meant sacrificing his own peace.

During his time away, Maera found herself missing his presence. Their time together, though centered around sparring, had rekindled some of their past camaraderie, and Maera appreciated the moments of connection she still shared with him, even if fleeting. She often pondered the fact that Aemond seemed to handle many of the duties that were typically expected of a king. Yet, Aegon, the reigning monarch, spent most of his days in revelry, indulging in drink and pleasures of the flesh. It was probably for the good of the realm that Aemond took on these responsibilities, Maera mused.

A recent role, assigned to Maera by Queen Alicent, involved overseeing the preparations for the upcoming Harvest Moon Ball, taking place in ten days. The women had been meticulously coordinating every detail together to ensure the event's success. Managing these affairs helped keep Maera focused and occupied, a necessary distraction from the continued deterioration of Queen Helaena's mental state. With the combined efforts of Queen Alicent, Maester Orwyle, and Maera herself, they managed to keep Helaena's fragile mental health under control. It was a delicate balance, one they maintained with great care, for the sake of the queen and the realm.

One day, as Maera supervised the delivery of Dahlias and Violas, flowers destined to adorn the grand hall for the upcoming event, a letter arrived at her chambers. The wax seal bore the emblem of House Wylde, and Maera's heart raced with anticipation. She eagerly tore open the letter, her eyes scanning the contents with a mixture of excitement and longing for her family's news.

Dearest Maera,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits amidst the splendor of the capital. It brings me great joy to inform you that our family is well, our fortunes ever favoring our endeavors. The days at Rain House pass with a tranquil swiftness, but a hole has been left in your absence, and we miss you deeply.

There have been some changes since your departure. Guston’s wife is with child for a third time, and he is hoping for another son. Dermot has written from Essos and tells me his travels are going well and does not intend to return to Rainwood any time soon. Our younger sisters, Brienna and Delfine have taken up an interest with the sword, just like you. At least we can get them into the courtyard, unlike Cedric, who remains cooped up in the library. I think he will ask father soon if he has his permission to join the citadel, like our three elder brothers.

I also must let you know that your presence in King's Landing has not gone unnoticed. Your closeness with Queen Helaena has allowed father to establish connections with many other Lords in Westeros. It is with a mixture of pride and bittersweet resignation that I convey to you that our Lord Father has found advantageous marriage pacts for two of our dear sisters.

Wynni has found herself betrothed to Lord Tarly. His house holds influence and respect, and it is with hopes for a prosperous future that this arrangement has been made. Sabine, our fiery spirit, is to be wed to Lord Tarbeck – a union that Father and Guston believe will forge alliances both unyielding and formidable.

I understand the weight of this news, Maera, and the shock it may elicit. But it is due to your hard work that such advantageous matches have been made, and I have been reassured by Guston that Wynni and Sabine’s intended husbands are kind souls of a similar age.

Though distance separates us, please know that your influence and guidance have not been in vain. Our hearts remain connected, and I eagerly await your response of stories from the capital.

Faran

Maera's breath caught in her throat as she read the final words of the letter. Her thoughts raced, a tumultuous whirlwind of emotions surging within her. Shock, disbelief, and a profound sense of loss mingled together, threatening to overwhelm her. She clutched the parchment tightly, as if seeking solace in the ink-stained words.

The news that her younger sisters, Wynni and Sabine, had been betrothed without her knowledge left her seething with rage. Lord Wylde had not only made her available for marriage but had also done the same for her beloved sisters. It was as if he considered them all mere bargaining chips in his quest for power, and Maera couldn't bear the thought of her sisters being treated that way. Feeling deceived and hurt, she couldn't hold back her anger any longer. She stormed into her father's chambers, her eyes blazing with fury. Lord Jasper looked up from his work, surprised by his daughter's sudden entrance.

"Father," Maera began, her voice carrying a tone of unwavering resolve, "I cannot remain silent on this matter. The betrothals you have arranged for Wynni and Sabine... they are far too young to be bound to such alliances."

Lord Jasper's gaze remained stern, his eyes cold and unyielding as they met his daughter's unwavering stare. "Maera," he responded curtly, his tone laced with an underlying frustration, "you underestimate the responsibilities and duties that come with our station. It is our duty as lords and ladies to secure alliances that will benefit our house."

Maera's hands clenched at her sides, her frustration mounting. "But they are children still, Father! They have never stepped foot outside of Rainwood. Sabine has just had her sixteenth name day, and Wynni cannot possibly understand the complexities of this world as a fifteen year old girl!”

Lord Jasper's gaze bore into Maera's, his voice sharp and unforgiving. "They have both flowered, Maera. It is time for them to take on the roles they were born into. It is a tradition that has been upheld for generations, and it is not for you to question."

A flash of anger ignited within Maera's eyes, her resolve strengthening. "I question the haste with which you seek to marry them off to lords in distant lands. Is their happiness not of any concern?"

Lord Jasper's face reddened with a mixture of anger and frustration. "Happiness, Maera, is often a luxury we cannot afford. Our duty to our house and our people must always come first. And speaking of duty, let us not forget your own. Had it not been for vile rumors tarnishing your virtue, you too would have been wed by now."

Maera's cheeks flushed with a mixture of anger and humiliation. The words struck a painful chord, a reminder of the rumors that had swirled around her name in King's Landing. She took a step back, her voice quivering with emotion. "Those rumors were baseless lies, Father, and you know it. I have dedicated myself to our house and our family's honor. But I cannot stand by and watch my sisters' lives dictated by politics and alliances."

Lord Jasper's eyes narrowed, his voice cutting like a blade. "I won’t sit here and tolerate your disrespect, Maera. You have no say in this matter. My decision is final."

The room fell silent, the weight of their confrontation hanging heavy in the air. Maera's breaths came quick and shallow, her heart pounding against her chest. With one last searing look, she turned on her heel and stormed out of the hall, her footsteps echoing through the corridors as she retreated from her father's presence.

Tears welled in her eyes, a mix of frustration, sadness, and a deep-seated determination to protect her sisters. But her father was right, it was their duty and as their elder sister, she had no say in the marriage pacts that were made. Like many women before them, their futures be dictated solely by the whims of tradition and politics.

Under the shade of the ancient Weirwood tree, with its crimson leaves and haunting carved face, Maera found a semblance of solace. The holy book, "The Seven-Pointed Star," translated into High Valyrian, lay open before her, its pages filled with intricate characters. Her eyes scanned the chapter of The Maiden, her lips silently forming the unfamiliar words. As she tried to immerse herself in the religious text, attempting to improve her grasp of the language, Maera hoped it would provide a welcome distraction from the turmoil within her. Her mother's necklace hung around her neck, a comforting presence against her skin, and she silently prayed to the gods that Lady Gael was watching over her and her siblings.

The footsteps approaching were unmistakable, and Maera recognized them as Aemond's. His presence, even without looking up, was as familiar to her as her own heartbeat, and she had grown more vigilant since their sparring sessions had resumed. Maera called out to him in High Valyrian, a hint of playful admonition in her voice. “Nyke daor hae nāqopsir naejot tyvagon nyeshka gō, dārilaros.” I'm not as easy to sneak up upon as before, my Prince

Aemond, dressed in black riding leathers, acknowledged her with a wry smile. His presence carried with it the subtle scent of dragon, a reminder of his recent return from the Riverlands. He leaned against the Weirwood tree, his arms crossed and his white hair cascading down his back in long, straight locks. His presence offered a welcome distraction from the overwhelming thoughts that had plagued her since reading Faran's letter.

“Skoro syt se raqagon jaes tembyr?” Why the sudden devotion to religious texts? Aemond inquired, genuine curiosity in his voice.

With a sigh, Maera held up the letter from her brother for him to read. It was a small act of trust, one that revealed her vulnerability in the midst of her turmoil. Aemond accepted it and read the contents, his expression unreadable.

"Well," he began, his tone measured, "your hard work in the capital has not gone unnoticed. These matches are a testament to that, particularly ones beyond the Stormlands. That's commendable.”

His words were meant to comfort, but they couldn't dispel the cloud of sadness that hung over Maera. Aemond returned the parchment to her hand before she could reply, her voice, tinged with sadness. "Nyke emagon qringōntan hāedars." I feel like I've failed my sisters.

His reply was measured and surprisingly understanding. "Skorkydoso sīr?" How so?

Maera closed her book, leaning against the Weirwood tree, her gaze averted from his so that Aemond couldn't see the tears that had crept into her eyes.

“Nyke se mandia,” I'm the eldest, she began, the words heavy with emotion. "Nyke yenka emagon issare idīntan ēlī . sytiotāpagon zirȳ va skorkydoso naejot sagon sȳz ābrazȳrys se muña. Y…” I should have been married first. So I could guide them, advise them on being good wives, good mothers, on how to navigate the wedding night. But instead I… Her words trailed off, alluding to matters unsaid.

Aemond didn't respond with his usual sarcasm or indifference. Instead, he listened attentively, the weight of her words hanging in the air between them. After a thoughtful pause, he hummed softly before breaking the silence.

"Many women face this fate, my Lady. Duty often outweighs personal desires. You must do what is expected of you and fulfill your role."

His words struck a chord, and Maera couldn't help but feel a surge of resentment. "And what about you, Aemond? You speak of duty, but I do not see your intended Baratheon bride here. You're free to pursue your own desires."

Aemond's expression remained unreadable as he regarded her. "My duties lie elsewhere, as do my ambitions. I may not be confined to a marriage, but that doesn't mean I'm free from the demands of my name, or my blood."

Maera absorbed his words, feeling a mix of emotions. His perspective offered a glimpse into his own struggles, ones that were different but just as significant. She sighed, closing her eyes briefly. "I understand. It's just... difficult."

Aemond's voice held a rare gentleness. "I know it is. But you have the strength to navigate this path, and your sisters will need your support, Maera. Write to them, tell them you are genuinely pleased for them. Ease their fears, for they are likely more frightened for themselves than you are for them."

Maera nodded slowly, appreciating his unexpected empathy. Perhaps in this moment, despite their complicated past, she found a kindred spirit who understood the weight of expectations and duty. The prince extended his gloved hand downward towards her, silently offering her assistance with standing. As their fingers met, a subtle but electrifying sensation coursed through her. It was as if a spark had ignited between them, a sensation she hadn't anticipated. The heat in her cheeks grew as she rose to her feet, grateful for his support.

His hand lingered a moment longer than necessary before he released her, his fingers slipping away. He broke the spell with words, his voice holding a touch of sincerity that she wasn't accustomed to hearing from him. "You're a good sister, Maera. Not just to your own siblings, but to Helaena as well."

Maera met his gaze, her emotions a swirl of conflicting feelings. She nodded in acknowledgment, her voice slightly unsteady as she replied, "Thank you, my Prince. That means a lot."

He nodded, his expression inscrutable as he turned to walk away. Maera watched him go, the echoes of their conversation and the lingering touch of his hand creating a turmoil within her. She was left alone with her thoughts and the weight of her responsibilities, both to her family and to her duty at court.

Thank you so much for reading! Comments, feedback, likes, and reblogs are greatly appreciated 🖤

[autisticempathydaemon]

we stroll along (walking in a winter wonderland)

A Skyside holiday exchange gift for @sainthowlzon organized by the adored @angelicaether yes it's January fifth but it's still Winter so run with it

Tags: Vega/Warden (Darling), David/Asher, Sam/Darlin, William/Camelopardalis, Porter/Treasure, mentions of food, mild violence, mild gore Also available on AO3

It is a miraculously white Christmas in Dahlia. This year, the cold winds had blown down just right from the nearby mountains and blanketed the picturesque college town in a glistening sheet of snow straight from a Rockwell painting. Everyone, empowered and unempowered alike, can feel the wonder of Christmas magic in the air. Little did they know how close beings of pure, concentrated magic sat watching, judging. 

“I will never understand humans and their inexplicable wonder at something so pedestrian and natural as frozen, falling water,” Warden muses. In a park below, an energetic wolf shifter leaps into the snow and disappears into the unshoveled heap. His companion- his Alpha, Warden deduces from his aura- watches with an affectionate amusement that doesn’t show on his scowling face. Instead of seeing it, the Warden can taste it- the warm, honeysuckle sweetness of a love left to simmer underneath a pot lid. In contrast, the beta’s joy is fizzing, effervescent, threatening to boil over as he looks up at the taller man with a bright, sunny grin. Visible only to Warden’s Aria-borne senses, their cores mingle and harmonize.

Easily spotted by the inchoate on their rooftop perch but unseen by the enamored wolves, one of their pack sits with a vampire on the other side of the park. The two sit quietly on a bench, facing the garishly lit and decorated evergreen tree that the humans put up for the season, illuminating the boulevard with flashing, twinkling lights. Warden, who coalesced to the sight of the cosmos studded with eons-old stars, always found the ornaments on Elegy to be a poor facsimile. The couple below seem to enjoy it at least, sitting silently but comfortably, shoulders touching, as the world clatters and clamors around them. Their serenity is cool and refreshing; their comfortable intimacy tastes of warm, yeasty bread cut fresh out of the oven. 

The wolf leans their head on the vampire’s shoulder, turning to press a kiss to his scarf-covered neck, and their love adds a sweetness to their flavor. It reminds the inchoate of a rich chocolate being drizzled atop the toasted bread of their peace, the sweetness not cloying or overbearing but complementary, balanced. Unfortunately, Warden senses they are not the only d(a)emon lured by the meal and carefully retreats further into the shadows with a watchful eye. After a moment, familiar, blue-tinted horns come into view, and Camelopardalis walks from behind the tree, him and his companion waving politely at the other couple. 

At seeing their former coworker, an uncomfortable feeling stirs in the inchoate where their stomach would be. Without the added context of taste and flavor sensations, their own emotions remain inscrutable and unsatisfying, impossible to properly name or express. When they see Cam smiling so easily, arm in arm with his vampire companion, Warden cannot say what the twisting in their abdomen means, what the magic running sharp and cold under their skin is trying to convey; they just know they don’t like it. 

To escape the frivolity and saccharine spectacle, the inchoate travels across the rooftops, walking through the rifts from one to another. The snow, lights, and auras blur into a monotonous, humming drone, a dull, tasteless barrage of one-dimensional sweetness on Warden’s tongue. Then something heady edges alongside their consciousness- something rich and spicy like Christmas wine spiked with cloves paired with prime rib dripping with herbed tallow. 

In the alleyway below, another vampire uses the din of the nearby street to cloak his misdeeds. Warden watches as a knife- surely laced with demon blood by the way its waning magic calls to them- is buried in another vampire’s throat and twisted with callous efficiency. It is done so quickly, with such sharp, unyielding movements, that the inchoate hardly has time to savor his bloodlust before it blends with the sour, metallic tang of grim pride at a bloody job well done. The man turns on his heel, strutting down the alley and tossing the blade over his shoulder with gloved hands and hardly a care. He walks with purpose, a bounce in his step, and a feeling emanating off of him too lusting and hungry to be called happiness. The vampire’s intense, tempestuous emotions mix into a potent cocktail reminiscent of gore and viscera, the only sweetness that of slain flesh. It both repulses Warden and entices them; their core hums in want.

“My Darling,” a rumbling voice hums in their mind. “Did you find us something to eat?” Vega’s claws trail lightly down Warden’s horns, sending shivers down their corporeal form, and they nod obediently, wordlessly. The sadism demon nods approvingly at them, his eyes glow a piercing, burning red; he turns, skulking toward that night’s meal, and Warden follows like a lamb to the shepherd, a magi to the brightest star.

[sarilolla]

So ghost anon got me thinking…

What would happen if Floyd was the only one who couldn’t get to branch in time? I mean he was the only brother to say goodbye and promise to return, but ironically he is also the only one to not meet branch before he passes. I have a feeling that the guilt of never being able to fulfil his promise would tear him apart :3

Hopefully I won’t regret giving u a weapon to rip my heart out (who am I kidding, do as u please with this)

OW? OUCH? I got this ask while I was writing the fight and just oof, it hurt- Thank you for giving me this weapon >:)

Going to turn this into a ficlet, haven't done one of those in a while

***

Branch knew it was unlikely that all four of his brothers would get there on time. The world was big and who knew where four small Trolls could have ended up after twenty years. Laying in bed, he blinked in and out of consciousness, his chest heavy and barely any air managed to get to his lungs. Poppy was by his side, holding his paw tightly, not wanting to let go.

To his surprise, John Dory was the first to arrive. The oldest almost looked grey as he looked at his baby brother, who was resting on death's doorstep. With a push from Delta, he walked into the room, sitting down on a chair on his side. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, not until Barb had pulled Poppy out of the room. The two brothers needed a moment.

"I'm so sorry, Bittie, I… I'm sorry. I should have been there for you, but I wasn't, and…"

Branch took his paw, the younger being so weak, but he needed JD to listen.

"Love you."

His voice was broken and small, but to his surprise, JD started tearing up.

"I love you too. So much. You're my baby brother, and I'm sorry…"

This went on for a while, as Branch's lungs cleared just a bit, and he asked if JD could tell him about the Neverglades, which he did, drying his tears. He hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time, but for Branch? He would probably beg the Muses themselves for his life to be spared.

Then came Clay. He came inside on his own, Synth and Dante pointing him to the right room. He was shocked, to say the least, that JD was there, and for a moment, all he felt was anger and grief. After a small spat, he calmed down as Branch's tail brushed his own. Right, Branch. They were there for Branch. Their little brother, who was dying.

After a few exchanged words filled with love, both the Iris and Dahlia were cleared from his system, and he breathed just a tiny bit easier, enough that if he had just a bit more energy, he would have been able to hold a conversation. But he didn't, so the two older held it for him, despite their awkwardness and grievances, they were there and they were talking.

Finally, Spruce came. Except it was now Bruce, and he had changed a lot, but he was their brother nevertheless, and while Branch could tell the tension swung a bit in the room, happiness, anger, and grief hanging heavy in the air, he was happy to see another of his loved ones. Just a few hours ago he had almost accepted death, not believing they would come on time, but here three of them were.

JD gave up his spot for Bruce, letting him take Branch's paw, the purple-haired Troll speaking so softly with the youngest, who hummed an "I love you too" in reply. The Zinnia lost its grip, and now… they only had the Queen Anne's Lace left.

But would Floyd get there on time?

---

Floyd had already left Mount Rageous days before, having heard the news on his small traveling radio, and narrowly avoiding being kidnapped, he set out to find his baby brother.

He had made a promise. It was maybe twenty years too late, but Floyd was not one to break a promise. Not now, not ever.

Then he learned that the promise had been put on a timer. Friends of Branch, bounty hunters, had found him, telling him what was going on.

Branch was dying. Branch could be dead already.

They didn't need to tell him twice that he was needed. He just sat silently in the back of their critter bus, eyes distant as memories played on a loop.

Seeing that little bluebell egg hatching. Holding that little baby boy that had been filled with so much joy, love, and music.

Branch was singing before he was talking, he danced before he could walk. He was the sunshine breaking through the grey clouds of grief and horror in that period of their lives.

And he had left him behind. He had given the toddler his vest. The vest had belonged to all their brothers once, and if there was someone who deserved the comfort that the vest provided, it was Branch.

When he came to Pop Village, the place was… sad. Too sad to be filled with Pop Trolls. He saw a grey Troll with a crown on her head sit amongst a group of other dully colored Trolls, her grief so strong it nearly drowned everyone seeing her.

No one noticed him as he walked through the village, and when he asked someone where Branch was, they just shook their head, a sad look in their eyes. Another Troll pointed him to the outskirts of the village.

Floyd had heard from the youngest friends that he had built a bunker, and with a small spark of hope, he looked in the direction they pointed, hoping to see that large rock, but no… There was a field of flowers there.

A Pop Troll graveyard.

And by the freshest mound, holding onto each other, sat three Trolls who were painfully familiar. His brothers. Just not all four of them. Only the three oldest.

A pained scream filled the air.

Floyd's scream.

He had broken his promise.

***

Yeah, ow, this hurt- Hope everyone enjoys the misery as always :,D

[laurenairay]

Matt Martin with cute kiss! Please and thank you!

Cute Kiss – Matt Martin

Words: 642

Thank you for choosing Matt Martin for this last one, anon! I hope we can end this round of blurb prompts with a smile!

~

“Matthew Bryan Martin, what is all of this?”

“Uh oh, full name Marty. I’m out of here,” Barzy snickered.

The younger player hopped up from the stool in the kitchen, kissing your cheek in passing with a wink, making you bat at his arm and laugh. Once he’d left the house, front door shutting behind him, you turned back to face your boyfriend, raising an eyebrow.

“Not that I meant to chase Barzy from our home, but I’ll repeat – what is all of this?”

Matt smiled at you a little sheepishly.

“It was meant to be a surprise?” he offered.

Your eyes ran over the six giant bouquets of fresh flowers lining the kitchen island, the pastel balloons decorating the spaces in between, and the box of what you could smell was your favourite lemon bars in the middle of it all.

It was definitely a surprise, definitely the sweetest thing that he’d done in a while – but why?

“Why the surprise?” you asked, walking over to him.

Matt seemed to hesitate for a moment as he wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you slide your hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders before he spoke.

“I didn’t feel like I’d been treating you like you deserve,” he finally said.

What? No.

But whatever protest was showing on your face, Matt shook his head.

“I mean it, sweetheart. You’re always so good to me, and in the past month I’ve barely put any effort in. It’s not okay,” he said seriously.

“You’ve been busy. With your career, just as you should be. Hockey is always going to be your priority, and I know that,” you replied, smiling softly.

“Hockey may be my priority but it’s not my only love. And I’ve been basically neglecting you when I should’ve been treasuring you,” Matt said, shaking his head, “I never want you to feel like you aren’t as loved as you are.”

Your heart started to beat that little bit faster at his words, cheeks heating up a little.

“I don’t feel unloved,” you said, smiling as he parted his lips to protest, “I promise to tell you if I ever truly feel like you love me any less than you do, okay?”

Matt pursed his lips slightly at the compromise but nodded, trusting you as much as you trusted him.

“Let me love you now?” he asked hopefully.

“Oh?” you mused.

Matt pulled one of your hands away from his chest, and lifted it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“Pink roses, to express my appreciation of you and everything you do.”

He shifted your hand to expose your inner wrist, kissing the sensitive skin there.

“Pink carnations, to say sorry for missing our date nights.”

He placed your hand back on his chest, leaning his head down to gently kiss the side of your neck.

“Red tulips, to say that I truly love you.”

His lips trailed up to the corner of your jaw, placing a kiss there to make you shiver.

“Red dahlias, to say that I am committed to you.”

He lifted his head only briefly to kiss your cheek before looking back into your eyes.

“Balloons in your favourite colours.”

With a soft smile he rubbed his nose against yours and kissed the tip of it gently before lifting his head for the final time.

“And lemon bars because they are your favourite indulgence. All of this is but a token to show you how much I love you, how much you mean to me, and I never want you to forget that,” Matt said softly, smiling down at you with so much love in his eyes that your heart felt like it was going to burst.

“Matt, stop being so cute and kiss me like you mean it,” you breathed.

He just grinned. “Yes ma’am.”

[clrakeandjosh]

a joy (hard learned in winter)

“This is incredible,” Doc breathed, eyes darting around as falling snowflakes caressed their features. Hush murmured his agreement, but he wasn’t sure if he was referring to the snow.

hush/doc fluff 2k words Read on AO3

fluffy touch-starved hush/doc for @autisticempathydaemon part of @angelicaether's Christmas exchange 💕

“To be honest, I'm thankful,” Doc confessed. “Sure, maybe a white Christmas would be magical, or whatever, but the snow and cold would make getting around a lot more inconvenient.”

Hush kept pace dutifully next to Doc as they cut a path across the city park, considering their words carefully. This had become part of their routine. Since Doc’s latest run-in with a particularly aggressive Demon Articulate, Hush had taken it upon himself to keep a vigilant guard at their side as often as possible. Lately he’d been foregoing more magical means of transportation, and instead kept them company walking with them while they ran errands. Ever curious, Hush often filled the silence, peppering them with questions about the idiosyncrasies of human nature. The subject matter on today’s docket was snow. 

“It seems that snow is a big part of the winter season for a lot of humans,” Hush assessed the park around him. So far, this year’s winter had been especially forgiving on its lush foliage, to an unusual degree, even for a climate with minimal seasonal variation. “Have you ever seen snow, Doc?” 

“I mean, I’ve been to the mountains once or twice when I was in college,” Doc mused. “Ski trip with a few friends…I’m not much of a skier though.” They kicked a rock on the ground sending it skittering off the path into the grass. “Besides, the real magic is in all the things you see on TV - like snow angels and snowball fights. We didn’t really do any of that”

“Would you like it if it snowed?” Hush asked

“I suppose I don’t really need it to enjoy winter. It’s not something I grew up with here in Dahlia, I can’t miss magic I’ve never experienced before” Hush slowed to a stop, compelled as always to find some way to impress and appeal to this wary, level-headed human. He wasn’t sure why they made him feel this way. 

Hush had never felt this way about another being before. In fact, he couldn’t recall a time where he felt much of anything at all. He was, on a fundamental level, simply a set of goals given form, ceasing to exist once the boxes had been checked off. Feeling did not make the to-do list.

Conversely, those around him seemed to feel quite deeply. About him in particular. 

He was the Silence in the Spellsong - an innately scary thing to any human or daemon, diametrically opposed to the steady raucous rhythm keeping time for the users of Aria’s magic. The Chorus saw Hush as something of a void, his magic merciless and anechoic, absorbing all life which dared cross its path. Hush never had a problem with this, or gave it much consideration, really. He was purpose made manifest. He’d no need for connection, thus no need to justify or contextualize his powers within the limited confines of the human experience. 

That is, until Doc.

His Doc, who perplexed him so. They’d thrown themselves recklessly, willingly between him and his otherwise certain end, yet caution and reserve punctuated their every step. For Doc, Hush wanted to be more than the Chorus believed him to be. For Doc, he didn’t want them to see his silence as the absence of life, he wanted to be the potential for it. 

So to create magic for them where there was none? The urge was practically in his bones, he hummed with excitement to try.

“I didn’t ask if you needed it. Would you like there to be snow?”

Doc stopped a few paces ahead, not immediately noticing his sudden stop. “I guess I’ve just never thought about it before, Hush. I mean, it’s 60 degrees. It’s not like I know how to just pull snow out of thin air.”

“No, a human would probably struggle with elemental command to that scale. But I’m not human.”

The world seemed to fall still around them, heavy as the first snowflake whirred through the air and landed gently on Hush’s nose. It melted quickly, no match for the above-freezing temperatures of Dahlia’s mild winter, or for the way Hush’s usually tepid skin now warmed steadily at Doc’s now bewildered stare.

“Hush?” Doc whispered, incredulous. They didn’t move a muscle, as though any sudden movement or too sharp a breath might cause the illusion to shatter, taking with it the snow that was quickly, supernaturally beginning to accumulate at their feet. Hush noted the way they seemed to say his name a lot. It was such an offhand thing, “Hush.” It was practical in its conception and apt enough to describe him, but somehow when they said it, he felt the unfamiliar pull of human connection. He’d never had a name until they had asked for it. Maybe, he thought, his name belonged to them just as much as it did to him.

“I’ve met contra-elementals who could do some pretty amazing things,” they awed, “but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“I'm sorry I can't hold it forever. Well, I can. It's not a measure of ability, but rather, I don't suppose the local ecosystem would fare too well if I did.”

Doc barked a laugh, turning their attention away to their outstretched hands as delicate snowflakes landed in their palm before dissolving into flecks of water. 

Hush admired Doc as they twirled in the falling snow, embodying a childlike joy that he’d never seen in them before. He wondered how often that side of them had the chance to come out, or if another person had brought it out of them before. He liked being the person to make them feel that way. Selfishly, he wanted to be the only person to make them feel that way, but he wasn’t sure what that meant.

Eager to understand his proclivity for closeness with them, he catalogued the moment in his mind for later. He took stock of the way his eyes dragged down to their mouth, mesmerized as their tongue snaked out to taste the snowflakes that kissed their lips and proceeded to catch more out of the air. He liked thinking about their lips. He liked thinking about the way they curved when he revealed his latest findings on the things that humans enjoy - things he hoped Doc would enjoy from him. He liked the shape they took when they said his name. He was imagining all the ways he might enjoy their lips when Doc looked at him suddenly, eyes bright and sharp.

“Will you make a snow angel with me?” Hush tilted his head inquisitively, pulling another laugh from Doc. “A snow angel - Here,” Doc took his hand, guiding him to the ground by their side, laying on their back. They demonstrated their snow angel for him, their arms and legs arcing smoothly through the patch of freshly fallen snow. Hush watched as the snow parted, leaving his Doc cradled in the wings of a crisp, clean angel. 

“Now it’s your turn,” They said, sitting up to watch him. He replicated their motions, skin tingling under their assessing eye. When he was done, Doc pulled him by the hand eagerly, their excitement giving way to unease on the unfamiliarly slippery terrain. They lost their footing, crashing sharply into Hush, sending them both toppling to the ground, scattering fresh delicate angels in the process. 

Steadying them by the waist, Hush felt the way their stomach heaved under his fingertips, breath leaving them in a surprised laugh. He recalled the way their hands felt on his chest all those weeks ago. Gentle, timid, exploratory. At the time, it had felt so foreign to him - he’d never known a touch that was kind, meant only for sender and recipient; touch that wasn’t administered by the fearful, contemptuous hand of the Chorus. Doc’s hands were warm, and the limited contact seemed to easily warm him from within in response. Now, with the weight of their chest bearing down on him from above and his fingers digging into the warmth of their sweater, Hush burned with wonder at how their hands could ever have felt so significant in comparison.

“Are you alright?” Breathless, Doc steadied themselves in a kneel next to him. Hush felt a million miles away. “Do you want to try again?”

They spent the next few minutes adjusting their form with each newly disrupted patch of snow until they were facing down two crisp, perfect snow angels. Satisfied, Doc plopped back down into the snow, finding stillness once more to admire the gentle blizzard cascading down on them. Hush laid next to them, settling easy into the snow and the comfortable silence that fell between them.

The human form had a number of weaknesses, Hush thought. Though he’d never been held back by much of anything, the vulnerabilities of the body he’d been forced to occupy on Elegy had been…an adjustment. The breakneck speed at which his life seemed to throw danger at him from all directions had forced him to dull his senses, blinding himself to the physical sensations that otherwise accompanied flesh and bone and muscle. Now, in this moment of peace, brimming with curiosity and an urge for closeness he couldn’t explain, he wanted to feel what Doc was feeling. He wanted to understand them.

He shifted his awareness inwards, sharpening his focus to the way his skin was bitten by the snow at his back and the brisk wind at his face. His mind felt heavy, limbs weighed down by cold like a thick blanket, the feeling equal parts comforting and disquieting. 

He glanced at Doc, who lay next to him in the snow. The rising chill around them had flushed their cheeks, and their chest heaved, the cause alternating between fits of gleeful laughter and physical exertion. He found his eyes drawn once again to their lips, hyper-aware of the way a smile seemed permanently fixed at the corners of their mouth. He counted the soft puffs of breath that slipped across their parted lips, clouding in the air above them, and needlessly mirrored the rise and fall of their chest with his own. A subconscious, human action, to him somehow more and less.

“This is incredible,” Doc breathed, eyes darting around as falling snowflakes caressed their features. Hush murmured his agreement, but he wasn’t sure if he was referring to the snow.

A few more moments passed in easy silence.

When Doc finally rose from the bed of snow beneath them, they longingly scanned the snow-covered park around them, eyes eventually landing on Hush as he followed them to an upright position. Clumps of soft snow clung to his hair and shoulders, dampening his clothes. 

“May I?” without waiting for a response, they leaned in slowly to brush snow from his shoulder and hair. In a subconscious motion, Hush leaned in to their warmth, turning his face towards their hand. Doc considered him for a moment, taking their turn to dissect him.

“It’s starting to get cold. You know, there are plenty of things humans do to enjoy winter indoors.” Hush looked away from them now, the flurries clearing in his mind as the gears began turning once more.

“Hmm...I’ve read that for some humans, a warm drink can be comforting during the winter months.” Hush began to stand, extending a hand to Doc to help them up. “I think I can remember a recipe for hot cocoa, which humans seem to like a lot. Do you like hot cocoa, Doc?” 

They nodded, allowing him to guide them from the ground. Returning the favor, he brushed the snow off their back. He liked learning what it took to take care of them.

“I’d really like to make some for you, if you’d like that.” Doc gingerly grabbed his arm, nestling close, cold finally settling into their bones as their damp clothes began to chill. As Doc led them back to their original path towards their apartment, Hush fell into a quiet match step beside them. The best part about silence, he thought, was perhaps the drop of a pin to set off a tidal wave of sonic vibration, upending everything in its wake. He replayed the events of Doc’s magical winter wonderland in his mind, the magic he’d created for them. Maybe they wouldn’t mind if he kept just a small piece of that magic tucked away in his mind for himself.

[bewitcheddahlia]

DAHLIA BELLAND has returned to mystic falls! she is a 25 year old WITCH and looks like KATHRYN PRESCOTT. she has been described as being PROTECTIVE, but also CONTROLLING. her last memory is getting kidnapped by vikings and agreeing to work for them.

new muse so going to work her out as i go

did your character survive the legacies finale? if so, what have they been up to in the past year?

Dahlia died along side her sister in New Orleans and went to peace since she and Esther were together again.

what is their last memory?

Dahlia's last memory is their village (wiki says they lived in Norway but I think that's based off where Esther and Mikael met and had their kids - it's unclear where Dahlia and Esther were stolen from by Vikings) and the Vikings attacking them. All of their family and friends being killed and Dahlia managing to save Esther. Before they were kidnapped and on the agreement that Dahlia do dark magic for their Viking captures, they were allowed to live, and Esther was allowed to go freely around the village. Dahlia's memories will be in the first dark magic spell she did, after being kidnapped, and given what we know about Vikings, I think she had a really ROUGH (all the trauma) few days/weeks as their prisoner on their boat before she was set to work doing magic in her little hut.

what are your character’s goals?

Her goal will be to find her sister, Esther and keep her safe. Without her, she is honestly going to be lost. I think the 21st century will be ALOT nicer to her than a prisoner of vikings; and she will have a chance to go down a different path than what she did in the show.

any headcanons about your character’s past or present?

Dahlia was not born evil, going to throw that in first off, she was a kind and loving girl as a child. The evil we see in the originals is years of abuse at the hands of vikings and her going dark from it. I also would love and headcanon for myself that she is likely bisexual, very much into woman in the years after her time with the vikings. But that she never really got to explore any of it openly. Additional info: Dahlia was born 945 - for anyone wanting to play Esther, Dahlia was 25 when she was kidnapped, so Esther has to be younger than that when it happened. That makes Dahlia 32 when she stole Freya from Esther. I might change this in the future, but it is implied that Dahlia gave her ability to have children to barren Esther to allow her to have children, meaning that Dahlia can not have children of her own to continue the blood line.

any plots or connections you’d like to have?

I would love if after Freya fled from Dahlia, in one of the years she was awake (possible 1914s but open to before that), that she met someone (likely a woman) in the woods were she was living and fell for them and got one year of happiness (even if she didn't want to admit to loved them) before she went to sleep again, never finding them again, because she thought they were human (would love if they were a canon she could met again. A girl (maybe dragon or fairy or some other new species) that lived in her village who Dahlia had a crush on, who was killed by the vikings. Also excited for her to meet the Mikaelson's before she is hardest by all she experienced - like she would have been so excited to have nieces or nephews before her heart went cold.

 event one

Dahlia now recalls the immortality spell she made to allow herself to live forever.

[glimpsesofeuterpe]

felt obligated to list muses and their (known so far) alternates out now, oh no

The Cornelius(es)

Protagonist Cornelius, Classic Cornelius, Happy Cornelius, Space Pirate Cornelius (Neil), Composer Cornelius, Inspector Cornelius, Vampire Cornelius, Angel Cornelius (Corabael), Demon Cornelius (Corey), Inspector Cornelius, Archivist Cornelius, Winter Prince Cornelius, Librarian Cornelius, Lonely Cornelia, Alpha Cornelia (Emily), Beta Cornelius, Gamma Cornelius, Vampire Cornelia (Nelle), Russian Cornelius (Корнелий/Kornelij), British Victorian Cornelius (Dr Gratton), Gem Cornelius (Tiger Eye), Wizard Cornelius, Enthusiast Cornelius, Robot Cornelius, Skeleton Cornelius

The Deimos(es)

Antagonist Deimos, Narrator Deimos, Shadowy Deimos (Phos), Human Deimos (Damien), Demon Deimos (Demien), Mermaid Deimos, Captain Deimos (Captain Deimey Moss), Gem Deimos (Green Jadeite or Emerald), Cat Deimos (Demyaw), Princess Deimos, Farmer Deimos (Dahlia), Redhead Deimos, Wizard Deimos, Alternian Deimos, Mettaton Deimos extra: Arianna and Artemius, Deim's younger siblings extra extra: XJ10 aka Jade (Neil's assistant) extra extra extra: Deinelius (confusion au)

The Frankys

Grumpy: Strayed Franky, Dad Franky, Wizard Franky, Werewolf Franky, Gem Franky (Enstatite), Angel Franky (Frankiel), Female Franky (Franziska) Dorky: The Dork Maddison, Warlock Maddison (Adam), Captain Maddison, Cyborg Maddison, Pilot Maddison, Mechanic Maddison, Magic Maddison, Rick Maddison (Frederick) extra: Marcus Mayfair (employee 517) aka a beta-something-past version of Maddison extra extra: Ludolf Meier (Franky's Uncle) extra extra extra: Adam Smithson, which is clerly related to Franky(s), nuff said

Amelies:

Classic Amelie, Cyberpunk Amelie, Angel Amelie (Amaliel), Parable Amelie (Amber), Male Amelie (Albus), Possessed Amelie (Ambrose), Sinner/Demon Amelie

Sophies:

Fairy Sophie, Employee Sophie (006)

+ Cornelius' ex co-workers: Maria Mironova and Jack Waller

Narrators:

Bionic Narrator (Magnus), Bossy/Demon Narrator (Bernael), Narrator.exe, Beta Narrator (Norbert), Caelumirian Narrator (Augustin), Snapey Narrator, Gem Narrator (Brown Diamond?), Narrator Royce, MONIKA

Curators:

The Observer, Beta Curator (Norene), Angel Curator (Barrattiel), Human Curator (Beatrice), Curator.exe, Curator GLaDOS

Stanleys:

Stanley Freeman, Stanley von Sales, Thomas Stanley Porter, Severine Stanley, Stella Fiedler, Pastel Stanley, Stanley.exe, Gem Stanley (Gray Pearl) Not Stanleys:

Protagonist Chell, Ashley Davies (The Player)

Mariellas:

Classic Mariella, Dream Mariella (aka Doll aka Princess aka Melissa Noxire), Pastel Mariella, Not Mariella (Simona Petrikov), Mariella.exe, Gem Mariella (Peanut Pearl)

Employee 432 aka Settings Person aka Timekeeper aka Ceaseless Watcher:

Eric Nowak

Adventure Line (humanized-ish):

Ghost Adventure Line (Flavian), Gem Adventure Line (Yellow Spinel)

The Employee Lounge (humanized):

Lacey Fidelis, Lesley Fidelis

Ricks:

Narrator Rick, Dandere Rick, Detective Rick, Ava Rickinsocks, Bossy Rick, Hacker Rick

Mortys:

Protagonist Morty, Yandere Morticia, Nerdy Morticia, Captain Morty, Cursed Morty, Shadow Morty, Wizard Morty

OTHERS: Homestuck linked: Kostya Trollen, Nick Surname Presentable Liberty linked: Paul Viaton, Lenore (Eleanor) Farrell, Benjamin Smiley, Charlotte Addams, Barret Videll, Salvadore Marchetti, Morayne Johnson DST linked: Triumphant Wilson and a Willow (iguess?)

Wannabe big guys aka friends from the other side aka yet another aliens (divinedamnedgambles):

Endymion, Nelumbo, Nebula (aka Red and Blue), Mother Nature, Goodness (Agnes), Darkness (The Temptress), Inquisitiveness (aka Yellow aka Employee333), Lorelei, Oneiros, Helianthus (aka Deim's Grandpa), The Troubadour, Aurora

Men In White:

Elyon and Karael, Vega, Gadreel, Raziel, Seraphim

[rjmenezz]

FULL NAME: ricardo jimenez

NICKNAME(S): ric

SEXUALITY & PRONOUNS: bisexual (he&him) 

ROMANTIC STATUS: single

BIRTHDAY: april 1st, 1992 (32)

ZODIAC aries

OCCUPATION: bartender at eclipse/ podcaster

HOGWARTS HOUSE: hufflepuff

HOMETOWN: corpus christi, texas

CURRENT LOCATION: asbury park, new jersey

PET(s): a goofy and lovable boxer named Bella

PARENTS: trisha collins (step-mom), carlos jimenez (biological father)

TATTOOS & PIERCINGS: some on his back (pictures coming soon) & no piercings yet 

MUSE INSPO: nick miller (new girl), fry (futurama), aladdin (aladdin), jack dawson (titanic), starlord (guardians of the galaxy, peter parker (marvel), eddie (the rocky horror picture show), john bender (the breakfast club)

MUSIC INSPO: pour some sugar on me- def leppard, with a little help from my friends -the beatles, shameless -the weekend, girls girls girls -mötley crüe, tainted love -marilyn manson version, black dahlia -hollywood undead, falling - harry styles, take my breath - the weekend, fat lip - sum 41, give me novacaine -greenday, bite my tongue -meet me at six ft: oliver sykes.  more to come!

QUICK BIO: (child abuse mention tw, death mention tw, alcoholism tw, pregnancy complications tw)

📼 (tw: death mention, pregnancy complications tw,) ricardo jimenez was born a dreamer. ever since he can remember he has always dreamed of what else life had to offer. even though his life had a habit of continuously handing him the shorter end of the stick, he always seemed to overcome any challenge thrown his way. he didn’t grow up in a family that had much to give. in fact, his mother passed away giving birth to him and his father always seemed to hold some sort of grudge against him because of it. (end tw)

📼 he learned a lot of things at a very young age. one of those things was to never upset his father. it just wasn’t worth the outcome, and another thing was his sexuality. he first felt a shift in his chest when he was twelve and watching the outsiders. it happened during the soda pop shower scene and since then he’d always kept his secret as well hidden as possible.

📼 (tw: child abuse mention, alcoholism mention)  while his father would find comfort in alcohol and swinging his hand at him whenever he drank too much, and almost everything he did was to make ricardo's life harder than it had to be. there was ONE good thing ric can credit his father for and that was his step-mother, trisha collins. she had guessed his secret a while before he had, because she always had made him feel safe, he was able to open up to her about it. plus, he’ll never forget how trisha always found ways to try and avoid him getting shit on by his father. (end tw)

📼 regardless of how crappy his home life most of the time could be, ricardo found an escape in two ways. one was his friends; of course, he had found a family in a small group of people from school. the other was investigating the mysteries in life. ricardo loved to visit abandoned locations, or places considered haunted, in search of paranormal activity. he’d sometimes stay up all night rewinding footage to make sure he didn't miss anything on his visits.

📼  shortly after his twenty-third birthday, ricardo got into a terrible fight with his father. this one turned physical and before ric knew it he was walking away from a place he once called home with zero intentions of looking back. he came to asbury park, new jersey to visit an online friend (wc) and ended up staying here. his love for the paranormal is what fueled him to start hosting his own podcast called 'beyond the unexplained' in which he talks about various things involving the paranormal side of life and invites people to share their experiences too.

📼 he’s the kind of guy who likes to crack jokes, a bit jittery sometimes, loves 80′s anything, vinyl over anything, enjoys playing guitar, loves to make new friends, digs a great party, and he’ll be your friend till the end if given a chance.

[quccninchains]

| @vowmaker sent: flowers

{☾} She doesn't hide the blush that warms her cheeks or the smile that picks her lips up as they walk along the path. Alicent's slender fingers brushed against the petals, marveling in how soft, beautiful, and fragile the dahlia was. All the more precious given that Ser Criston had given it to her.

"I think you may be one of my best friends here, Criston," she muses, listening to the crunch of her slippers on the path. Her head and her heart both weighed heavily on her. Rhaenyra had become so distant, not that Alicent blamed her after the death of Queen Aemma. Her father had subtly been pushing her towards the grieving king and she feared a proposal was forthcoming.

She liked and respected King Viserys--she'd known him for her entire life. But she didn't want to be his wife. Or Rhaenyra's stepmother.

Alicent goes quiet as they walk and her body slips slightly, their shoulders bumping into each other with their proximity. She blushes again and crinkles her nose, taking a tentative step to the side to give him space.

"Truthfully, visiting with you has become one of the brightest points of my life here," she admits, the dark clouds returning over her head.

[make-me-imagine]

Flowers and Confessions

Plot: Y/n keeps receiving various flowers at headquarters from an unknown person. Each flower seems to hold some sort of confession.

Pairing: Harry Wilson x Gn!Reader

Prompts: 'Secret Admirer' + Receiving flowers with secret meanings + 'Receiving flowers but you don't know who they are from.' and 'Hand-written love letter (confession).' <notes instead of letter

Requested By: @youngcroissantturkeyworribler

Warnings: None~

Words: 1.5k

-

Hearing Sophie enter the room, you looked over, your interest piquing as you saw a large bouquet of flowers in her hands.

Hearing Parker let out a soft "ooh" you realized everyone's attention was now on her.

"Nice flowers who are they from?" You asked with a smile and curious tone.

She smiled "I have no idea, they're for you."

You sat up straight as she came and set the flowers in front of you. Your heart seemed to beat faster as you grew ever more curious.

The bouquet was comprised of red dahlias with green foliage littered throughout.

"Ooh, Y/n got flowers?" Breanna said with a mused and playful tone.

You looked around to see everyone's eyes, on you and you suddenly felt a bit nervous. Your eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, and a thought briefly fluttered through your mind before disappearing.

The smell of the flowers drifted to your nose and you smiled softly. Maybe a thank you for the last job? You became pretty friendly with the client.

Seeing a small card sticking out of the flowers, you pulled it out and opened it up. The note was short, and typed out.

'Red Dahlias: Love at First Sight.'

Your heart seemed to skip a beat as it felt heavy in your chest. What is this, a love confession? The last client didn't fall in love with you did they? Your neck and ears seemed to burn hot as you stared at the note. No name was left.

"So what does it say?" Sophie asked.

You looked over at he "Nothing, just-"

"A love confession!"

You jumped as Parker's voice sounded from right behind you, where she had read the note over your shoulder.

"Parker!"

She skipped around you and plopped down on a stool "Who do you think it's from?"

You shrugged lightly, speechless at the sudden turn of events.

"There's no name?" Sophie asked as she came over and plucked the note from your hand "Wow, how bold, and romantic." She mused.

"Well it is almost Valentines Day." Harry spoke up from the other side of the bar.

You met this eyes and he had his brow raised as he made the suggestion.

"I don't know." You said slowly "Maybe it's from the last client?"

"You two did seem to get along really well." Breanna noted "You gonna reach out and ask?"

You shook your head "No, I don't think so." Placing the note back in the flowers, you smelled them, your eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

Whether or not it was from the client, or someone else, the thought was kind. Though the message would linger on your mind all day.

Harry watched as you took the flowers to the kitchen, saying you were going to put them in some water. He forced his smile to stay hidden as his own heart pounded in his chest. At least you seemed to like them.

He hoped you would like the others as well.

--- ---

The next day as you sat at the bar once again, talking with Sophie about the most current con, you jumped slightly when Breanna burst into the rom.

"Guess who got more flowers?" She said in a sing-song voice.

Looking over you saw a bundle of yellow flowers wrapped in brown paper. Your heart jolted in your chest as she brought them over to you.

"More?" You said with a soft breath as you looked down at the fully bloomed branches of yellow jasmines.

Gently touching the flowers, you saw another note dangling from one of the branches. Grabbing the note, your heart was pounding heavily in your chest. Would the note say who they were from this time?

"Look's like someones got a secret admirer." Breanna said with a suggestive raise of her eyebrows.

"Or a stalker." Eliot added as he crossed his arms.

Harry sat up a bit straighter at this "No" he laughed awkwardly "Surely they're just...thank you's or- or something."

Sophie, Eliot and Breanna looked over at Harry with a curious stare. He raised his brows in an attempt to appear innocent before glancing over at you.

He could immediately tell you were too preoccupied with the note to have heard anything they said.

'Yellow Jasmine: Affection, Joy, Friendship.'

Still no name, and the meaning was not as abrupt, but the message still made your heart radiate warmth. Though there was a sense of concern lingering beneath it. It all depending on who they were from in the end.

Sophie moved her gaze from the suspiciously acting Harry, to you. "Any name this time?"

You tore your eyes away from the note and looked up at her, shaking your head.

She hummed before looking over at Harry who looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Smiling softly she turned around "Well, as curious as this all is, that's enough of that for now, we've got a con to do."

Harry let out a relieved breath as everyone's attention turned away from him. His eyes fell on you as you gently an your fingers over the flowers.

He smiled softly as he watched you for a moment. Tomorrow, he would tell you. Tomorrow he would know for sure if his feelings are returned.

--- --- ---

Making your way into the building with an arm full of groceries, you immedietely noticed the lack of voices or noise coming from within the building. You looked around you, seeing no one. Frowning, you wondered where they all went.

As you looked through one of the bags, you took out the boxes of chocolates you got everyone lingering on the one you got for Harry. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you felt, but you didnt.

Looking over at the table your eyes landed on the jasmine flowers you put into a vase. You wish you had the confidence to do something like that.

Your mysterious secret admirer had yet to make a real move and part of you was relieved. You hated turning people down.

Looking back at the box of chocolates, you let out a soft sigh. If they were from Harry though...

As you heard the door open and close your eyes rose, to see Harry standing in the doorway. Partially hidden by the staircase.

"Hey Harry." You smiled.

"Hey." He greeted in response.

"Where'd everyone go?" You asked as you took some more groceries out of the bags.

"Uhm, out, I guess. They'll be gone for a while."

You frowned slightly, knowing that to be odd, as everyone should have been here by now. As you turned back to Harry, you saw a bouquet of red tulips in his hands. You paused in your step as your heart seemed to do a flip in your chest.

Harry looked down to the flowers and then back to you "Oh, yeah. These are for you."

"More flowers?" You asked softly with a mild tone of bewilderment.

Taking the flowers from him, you were aware his eyes were locked on you. Seeing yet another note, you gabbed it and opened it. Expecting to see another typed out note from an anonymous person.

But instead, the note was written in pen, in familiar hand writing.

'Red Tulips: Declaration of feelings; love.'

Your eyes slowly rose to meet Harry's and he was clearly nervous, as his brow raised slightly.

"This is your handwriting Harry." You said softly, your tone conveying your surprise and confusion.

He nodded slightly, as a ghost of a smile played on his face "Yes it is."

"The other flowers were...from you?"

He nodded again as he placed his hands behind his back "They were."

Your face was frozen in surprise for a moment and you saw Harry's trepidation. But slowly a smile stretched across your face.

You shrugged your shoulder lightly. "All I got you was some chocolates."

"I like chocolates." He said with a soft chuckle.

Your smile grew as you looked at the tulips. "They're beautiful Harry. They all are. But...why this way?"

He smiled and shrugged his head, knowing you were asking why he would confess how he felt like this.

"I was feeling...brave, and slightly romantic given the fact that Valentines Day is right around the corner, so, you know, I went with it."

"Well it's definitely the most creative confession I've received."

"You get a lot?" He asked playfully and you chuckled. He cleared his throat before he spoke again "So, you've received the confession, and now, you return the sentiment, I hope?" He asked softly.

Turning away, you grabbed the box of chocolates from the table before scribbling on it with a nearby pen.

Walking back over to Harry, you handed it to him.

Harry read it with a soft chuckle.

'Chocolates: For returned feelings'

Looking back up to meet your eyes you smiled at each other softly for a moment before he motioned his head towards the exit.

"Wanna go get some dinner?"

You smiled and nodded your head "I'd love to"

xx End xx

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