#( sorry this got lenghty )

[sonnenreich]

continuation of (☀️) ⸻@siphvnr

In most cases, people were either sceptical or just amused by the allegedly tourist attraction, Spindleweed—and yes, Zeev thought himself particularly funny for this play of word—seemingly nothing more but a picture frame imagination of a witch's shop come true, seamlessly transitioning into the overall historic town's appearance. Usually, no one stumbled upon Sundawn by accident, hidden and safely nestled in the forest's landscape, circled by birch trees, oaks, beeches and pretty but rare willows. Whoever came to this secluded and rather narrow minded speck of land, came for a reason. While trying to fathom the motivation behind his visitor’s company, he quickly and rather involuntarily lost his concentration to much more interesting aspects of the dark haired man. Kai reeked of something he couldn't quite grasp but knew was palpable, familiar even. A presence so telling and loud, yet secretive and cunning. Zeev rarely felt a pull—and a repelling push at the same time—towards another being that stirs his curiosity with an intensity like he did. With heightened attention, he observed the nonchalance and insouciance with which he strolled through the store, inspecting everything, though Zeev doubted he was really interested in any of the things to the extent that he wanted to use them. Kai didn't really look like someone who was overly interested in healing tea blends or scented candles. Then again, it was foolish to claim to know the versatility of the people he met in its entirety.

With deliberate steps and a body movement that could only be described as fluid, he strolled over to him. It was nice to hear that someone seemed to have respect for what Zeev considered the cornerstone of his life—even if Kai couldn't possibly know that. Or did he? It frustrated Zeev that he apparently wouldn't get an answer to his question just by looking at him with an intense gaze, brimming with light. All Zeev was really sure about was the fact that there was a river running through Kai's veins, fueled by an energy he was no stranger to.

The witcher smiled at his words, charming but reserved, distracted by his own desire to observe and investigate. But he suspected that he wouldn't get very far that way.

Me, was his first impulse of thought to answer. He was a piece of the collection easily overlooked, his beauty deceiving most, giving the impression there wasn't more to discover than coquettish behaviour and a pretty face to look at like a fine sculpture—stunning on the outside, but nothing more but a marble surface with no recess for a heart. But he would never beg, he would never run after something that didn't like to stay and he most certainly wouldn't force anyone to change just to accommodate to his needs. There was no point anyway, but making yourself vulnerable to rejection. 

Zeev ushered him to follow, smiling to himself at his question that he liked to ask too when visiting all sorts of curiosity shops and met with anything occult. Spindleweed wasn’t a huge place, feeling a bit crowded but yet organised. The witcher loved cluttering, to see some sort of personality at every corner and cranny, still it needed to maintain class and visual appeal—much like he himself. Appearance was the first thing anyone noticed. 

Some treated the shop like a museum, but there were no glass cases nor anything he'd consider so much over value that it could be stolen by yet another British explorer to be displayed in London. 

It didn't take long for Zeev to find the silver locket, engraved with what seems like initials of the former owner, partly blackened by silver sulphide. It didn't seem very special at first, but when he took it in his hands, it felt warm and welcoming, drawing in a sense of nostalgia and loss. “The old lass who gifted it to me claimed that it was made by a heartbroken witch and that those who hold it too long may feel an inexplicable longing for something—or someone.” His thumb brushed over the surface, the truth of her words undeniable. Zeev offered the necklace to Kai, letting it dangle from the chain. “That is if you believe in such things,” Eyeing him observantly at the remark. “Most is just born out of very vivid imaginations, but even stories can erupt feelings and stir your own perception of things. It's like Tarot, all it takes is your own mind to weave the webs and connect emotions to the meaning they hold for you. Sometimes though it is downright magic.”

[stormcried]

@flxshy

If there's one thing that Drake had learned living on this space station, it's that everyone must fend for themselves. Wether they come from the rich side of the station. Who could afford those fancy apartment studios. Those who could throw Credits around like it were spare change. Or from those who came from the bottom of the barrel. Living each and everyday in a mode of survival. Gangs. Pirates. Criminals. Homeless. They all shared one common goal. That were to survive. Drake is one of those.

Drake's arms itched lightly. Old wounds. Or more like old scarring. Drake's hands clenched around the packet of food in his tiny grip. Drake had gotten lucky to even get this. He had to use his abilities in order to piss off some VERY angry pirates earlier. Managed to snag their food. It wasn't a cheap meal either. Drag could only get what he could grab. And this packet of food mostly given as rations. This ration was a good one. Sitting down onto the ground; biting into the flesh of the artificial steak with a grunted feral growl to tear off the flesh.

Someone's presence is noted. Looking up in his peripheral vision stood a alien, he presumed. Drake would scoot away from the other, eyes daring for Rocket to try and take away his food. Why would this individual want his food? Maybe Rocket were apart of those pirates he stole from for all he knew.

[sonataforsybelle]

@biancasolderini sent : "You know you can always talk to me."

It was far from unusual for Sybelle to retreat inside her head and to stay dazed and far away from the present. Silence was even less unusual from her, but just like Armand and Benjamin, Bianca had learned to read into the fidgeting, the stiffness in her posture, the slight shaking in her hands. And so she'd taken her in a more quiet spot to try and comfort her and to be a listening ear.

Sometimes, she couldn't find her words. She nodded silently, grabbing Bianca's hand for comfort. Sybelle then used the mind-gift and sent an image of what had just occurred.

She'd been wandering outside as she liked to do, early enough to enjoy the lights of the city and stroll to the bookshop when she met someone from her family and quickly ducked into a nearby alley. She'd forgotten about these uncles and aunts of old, who'd left her to waste away inside a gilded cage with her brother. Not that he'd tried to give her to anybody else, he wanted the money. They all knew, however, and pretended it wasn't happening -- or worse, that she was doing it to herself, insane as she was. She sent those memories through mind gift, too. "I hate them, I don't want to think about it," she says inside her head for Bianca to hear. "But it's bringing memories back." Beside, it was a strange and eerie feeling to see one you used to know looking considerably older in what seemed to her a blink -- while she hadn't changed. She hadn't been confronted to it before.

[ruerock]

🧸!

[kettricken]

your icons really pretty! where’s it from? :o

it's Youko Nakajima from The Twelve Kingdoms novels by Fuyumi Ono (illustrated by Akihiro Yamada). It's a really great series! I highly recommend it :-) There is also an anime adaptation but I haven't watched it yet.

The series has never been fully translated into english officially so your best bet is looking on archive.org for pdfs/epubs of fan translations. I got all the volumes from there and from the translators' own blogs. It can be a bit difficult to figure out what the order of the novels is though since the translators name them slightly different things than what wikipedia does for example -- as well as the fact that the original novels usually had 2 volumes for each arc, meanwhile the translations contain both volumes within one book. I can make a chronological list of all the books and the links for the translations if anyone is interested! There's 17 volumes in total (counting the prequel and anthologies), but it's only 9 pdfs/epubs since the translators combined the arcs with more than one volume into individual books :-)

[guilty-pleasures21]

HI! I read you were taking requests for Jason! I'd love to see him with a gf who absolutely loves Christmas - I'm taking about going all out with decorating her apartment, baking gingerbread houses etc... - and they both get invited to the manor to spend the holidays with the whole family, where they get to see Jason, whom they know hates celebrating most holidays, being super affectionate and giddy around his partner and helping her and Alfred decorating gingerbread cookies <3

I'm so sorry if it's a lenghty request! I love your works so much!!

Thanks, love! It always warms me up inside when someone tells me that they love my hard work 🥰🥹!

This request was seriously not lengthy at all 🤣. The more details the better and you gave me some fantastic ideas! I'd also like to credit @daheckinbestbitch for inspiring me to fluff things up to the MAXXX! I'm not sure if this is what you were looking for, but hope I did an adequate job 🥺. So, without further ado ...

Christmas special!

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: brief reference to sex.

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

     Jason lifted his head, confused by the soft music he could hear drifting into his bedroom. He focused harder on the sound and soon realised that it was Christmas music - the absolute worst kind of music there was. Jason groaned and covered his face with a pillow, muffling the sound but not getting rid of it entirely. Finally, when he couldn’t stand it any longer, he forced himself out of bed and got up to investigate. And there was the source of the accursed noise: his girlfriend, standing by the kitchen island putting the finishing touches on a log cake she’d baked to take over to Bruce’s house later. 

     “Morning, princess.” X looked up with a bright smile and her heart fluttered when she saw her boyfriend rubbing his eye as he walked over to her, his messy bedhead so irresistibly adorable in the morning. 

     “Morning, baby!” she greeted him, coaxing a happy smile out of him - he loved it when she called him that; when she treated him like a big baby she just loved to spoil and pamper. Jason leaned over to press a kiss to her cheek as he walked past her. 

     “Did you have to put on the Christmas music?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her in question. 

     “Yes!” she argued, following him over to the fridge. “It sets the mood!” She waited for him to move away from the doors before she slid her cake onto a shelf she’d emptied out for it. Jason leaned back against the counter as he took a gulp straight from the milk bottle, but he regretted it immediately when his girlfriend’s entire figure entered his field of vision. 

     “X …” Jason coughed out, setting the bottle down and taking a moment to clear his throat. “What are you wearing?” 

     She turned around to face him, giving an excited little twirl to show off her dress. “A dress! I got it for dinner at your family's place tonight! Is it okay? You don't think it's inappropriate?”

    She pursed her lips as she waited for his response, nervous for her first Christmas with her boyfriend’s family. Of course she knew everyone - being an active member of the batfamily and having been Jason’s best friend for a few years before they’d officially started dating - but she’d never spent the holidays with them before. 

     Jason curled his hands around her waist slowly, appraising her from head to toe. She was wearing a deep red sweater dress that fell to her mid-thighs. The loose material hung off one of her shoulders, leaving the other so deliciously bare, and she’d cinched the fabric around her waist with a thick black belt.

(Something like this:)

     X bit her lip when she noticed her boyfriend’s gaze rapidly darkening as he took her in. Suddenly, he pulled her to him, and she let out a surprised squeak as she fell against his chest. 

     “It's perfect,” Jason murmured, his voice almost breathless with awe. He helped his girlfriend straighten again, then ran his hands up her body, enjoying the way his core tightened at how soft she felt beneath his fingers. His eyes stayed fixed on her chest as he reached up and started to tug her other sleeve off her shoulder and X laughed at his enthusiasm. 

     “Jason.” She covered her hand with his, stopping him before he could pull the material down her chest. “It's not the time for that.”

     Jason’s expression immediately hardened into a frown. 

     “Then when is it the time?!” he asked, sulking like a spoiled little boy who'd just been told he had to wait before he could open his Christmas presents. 

     Another chuckle fell from X’s lips at his reaction and she pulled herself away from him before adjusting her dress. “Tomor-”

     “Tomorrow?!” Jason interrupted before she could even finish. “What the actual f*ck?! Ugh! This is why Christmas is the worst. F*cking. Holiday. Ever!” 

     His head fell back as he let out a disappointed groan and X pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with an unamused look as she leaned her hip against the kitchen island. “You think Christmas is the worst holiday ever because your girlfriend said she wouldn't have sex with you until the day after?”

     He narrowed his eyes at her as he considered her statement, but the fight quickly left him at how adorable she looked, standing there in her cute little dress. Jason trudged back over to her and buried his face in the crook of her neck as he wrapped her up in his arms. 

     “Well, when you put it like that …” he mumbled, taking a pause so he could have a moment to indulge in the feeling of her fingers running through his hair. Then he straightened and fixed her with a sombre expression. “Yes.”

     X burst into laughter again. “Jay! You're such an idiot, love.”

     She cupped his face in her hands, squishing his cheeks as he pouted down at her, and her resolve quickly started to weaken in the face of his ruggedly handsome features. 

     “Hmm …” Her gaze flickered briefly over to her bedroom, her expression growing more uncertain by the second. “I guess … I could squeeze you in before we head out …”

     Jason bent over, resting his forehead on hers, and his lips curled into a wicked smile. “Oh, really? You gonna squeeze me in, princess?”

     He tugged her waist towards his, pressing his hips against hers so she could feel the entire length of his morning wood. X gulped and lowered her head, barely hiding that adorable little smile that had his heart fluttering with delight every damn time he saw it. “Jaaaay ….”

     Jason grinned and lifted her up onto his hips. 

     “Come on, princess,” he decided, kissing her on the temple as he carried her back to their bedroom. “I need a shower and you don't want to be late, do you?”

     X spread her arms wide and gave Tim a big hug when he opened the door. “Merry Christmas, Tim Tam!”

     “Merry Christmas, X!” Tim patted her on the back in return, then took the cake she held in her hands. His gaze drifted over to the large pile of presents nestled in Jason’s arms and he rearranged his features into a puzzled expression. “Oh! A sentient pile of Christmas gifts? What happened to Jay? I thought he would have come with you.”

     “Ha ha, real funny, Tim Tam,” Jason said, walking past him into the house. He resisted the urge to dump the presents on the ground and instead, swallowed down his irritation and carefully set them down by the tree - X had spent so much time picking out the perfect gift for everyone and then carefully wrapping them all up by herself and Jason would literally throw himself off a cliff if he did something to ruin her favourite holiday for her. “You’re lucky it’s Christmas.”

     Tim narrowed his eyes at Jason as he shut the door behind X. “Or what? You gonna take me out back and fight me, Jay Jay?”

     Jason got up and turned to face Tim, his hands clenched into fists by his side. 

     “Wait,” X interjected, stepping in between the two of them and placing a hand on each of their chests. “Hold on. Are the two of you using the nicknames I made for you to make fun of each other?”

     Tim and Jason exchanged equal looks of apprehension at the threat in X’s tone. It took a lot to get her angry, but … you know what they say about people who rarely get angry. 

     X moved one hand to her chest and continued to lean on Jason with the other as she bent over in exaggerated hurt. “How could you? I made those nicknames with love and affection and to show you how much each of you mean to me.”

     She looked at each of them in turn, scrunching her features up as if she was about to cry. Then she dealt the killing blow. “And you take them and use them as insults?!”

     The boys fumbled for words, both of them trying to reassure X and calm her down. But then Dick walked out of the kitchen in an apron, spots of flour dotting his cheeks as he approached them. 

     “Who wants to make-” He stopped short when he saw the upset look on X’s face. His gaze flickered between Jason and Tim and he narrowed his eyes at them in suspicion. “What did you two do? You made X cry?! On Christmas?!”

     X looked up at Dick with a pathetic look on her face, trying to draw even more sympathy from him. “They were making fun of my loving nicknames for them.”

     “Aww, come on, princess,” Jason pleaded, wrapping an arm around X and bending over to meet her gaze. “You know we didn't mean it like that. We love the nicknames you give us!”

     Tim nodded eagerly in agreement and Jason brought his mouth closer to X’s ear so no one else would be able to hear his sugary sweet words of apology. 

     “I love you, babygirl,” he reminded her, squeezing her against him and peppering her face with sweet kisses. “You gonna smile for me? You gonna give me that cute little smile you know drives me crazy? I love you, baby. Don't be mad at me on Christmas!”

     X’s lips curled at the ends as she began melting at his words, her resolve crumbling with each sweet kiss he gave her. “Okay.”

     Jason grinned and held her close as she wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug.

     “Hey, Dick,” Duke began, coming out of the kitchen in an apron of his own, “the gingerbread's done. Oh! Hey, X! Hey, Jason!” 

     “Are you guys gonna start making gingerbread houses now?” X asked, so excited Jason could practically feel her buzzing in his arms.

     “Yup!” Duke confirmed. “You wanna join us?” 

     X looked up at Jason with a smile too adorable for him to resist. He loosened his grip on her, allowing her to grab his arm and tug her with him into the kitchen. 

     “Hi Alfred!” X greeted him with a wave. “Merry Christmas!” 

     “Miss X, Master Todd. Merry Christmas to the both of you.”

     “You too, Alfred,” Jason replied. X stopped by the kitchen island and inhaled the sweet, tangy scent of gingerbread wafting through the air. 

     “Mmm! Smells delicious!” She walked over to an empty tray on the kitchen island and began gathering the ingredients she needed to make a house of her own.

     Jason leaned against the counter beside her and studied her carefully, quietly learning how to build a gingerbread house - well, learning how she liked her gingerbread house to be built. He’d never really participated in Christmas traditions before they’d started dating, only ever showing up at the last minute for dinner, but … Christmas made her happy; and she made him happy. “Why don’t you do a dovetail joint for the roof? That way the pieces will stick together more and the house will be stronger.” 

     X turned to face him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A what?”

     “A dovetail joint,” Jason repeated. He grabbed one of the sheets of gingerbread from her hand and picked up a knife to start slicing a castle-like pattern into one side of it. X watched with amusement how seriously he took the task, his thick brows lowered over his moss-green eyes as he focused on spreading just enough icing on the gingerbread for the two pieces he’d carved out to stick together. 

     “Like that!” he exclaimed finally, sliding an arm around her waist as he took a step back to admire his own work. He turned to X, waiting for her approval, and her chest warmed at the cute puppy-dog look on her large and intimidating boyfriend’s face. She squeezed his shoulder and stretched onto her toes to press a kiss to his cheek.

     “You’re so clever, Jay,” she praised him sweetly. “What should we do next?”

     Jason snuck a peak at Duke’s and Dick’s respective houses, considering his next steps.

     “Oh! We should make windows! But we need to make sure they’re fortified enough so the whole house doesn’t collapse,” he decided, lowering himself to his knees so he was eye-level with the countertop. “And we need to make sure they’re the right size, too …”

     He glanced around the table and his eyes lit up when he spotted a cylinder with some toothpicks in it. He pushed himself to his feet and glided the toothpicks across the island to X. “Baby, could you help me snap these in half and cover them in some gingerbread? We’ll use these as the window panes.”

     X’s lips wobbled as she tried to suppress her smile. 

     “Sure, sweetheart,” she obliged, setting to work immediately. But it wasn’t long before Jason decided he needed to take charge on that task too. 

     “No, wait,” he stopped her. “You’re making them too thick, doll.”

     X pressed her lips together to stop a laugh from spilling out of them. She stretched onto her toes and wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck from behind. “You want to take over, Jay? I can go help with the tree.”

     “Hmm? Yeah, sure, baby,” he replied distractedly. He kept his eyes glued to his gingerbread prototype as he slid one arm around her waist and tugged her into his side. “Come here for a second.”

     He bent over and pecked her lips a few times, coaxing a delighted giggle out of her and curious looks out of Duke and Dick. “I’ll come find you once I’m done?”

     X nodded, her smile widening at how quickly his hands returned to the gingerbread house once she’d agreed. “Okay. See you later, love!”

     “Mmm, see you later, sweetheart.”

     X bit her lip as she appraised the tree together with Tim, Damian, Steph and Cass. “It’s … okay, I guess …”

     “You don’t have to lie to us, X,” Tim assured her, “it sucks.”

     “I mean …” She trailed off, trying to find the words to minimise how disappointing the tiny plastic tree was. But Tim was right; it really did suck. X let out a defeated sigh. “You’re right, it sucks.”

     It was so glaringly obvious how fake the tree was and it was so cheap that it wasn't even able to hold half the ornaments they had before it had started tilting to one side! “But it’s too late to go buy another one now.”

     “X! X!” Jason skidded out of the kitchen, his face covered in patches of flour and a streak of icing smeared across his forehead. He grinned when his eyes landed on his girlfriend, but his features quickly creased with concern when he noticed the upset look on her face. “What’s wrong?”

     “Nothing …” She leaned into Jason’s side as he came up beside her, letting him cuddle her against him, then she forced her lips into a smile and looked up at him. “What were you going to say?”

     “Oh! Yeah!” Jason exclaimed, remembering what he’d gone to find her for. “I finished my gingerbread house! You wanna come see?”

     He flashed her an excited grin and X felt herself start to perk up again at his delight. “Of course, baby!” 

     She reached up to wipe the icing off his forehead and Jason positively melted at the tender gesture. He started leading her to the kitchen and the others followed close behind, curious to see how Jason’s first ever gingerbread house would turn out. Stephanie leaned over to Tim and whispered softly in his ear. “Uh, are we sure that’s our Jason? He’s not, like, some twisted clone Ra’s sent to mess with us?”

     Tim narrowed  his eyes at Jason’s back, his own suspicion growing now that Stephanie had mentioned it. 

     “Hmm, one can’t be too sure …” he supposed, thinking of all the past Christmases Jason had intentionally tried to ruin. Then his expression faltered as he recalled the Jason he’d seen before he himself had assumed the mantle of Robin. “But Jason … didn’t always used to be … Red Hood …”

     Steph raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding what he was trying to say.

     “What are we talking about?” Damian asked, springing up out of nowhere. Stephanie and Tim jumped back in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden appearance.

     “Jesus, Dames!” Stephanie breathed, clutching her chest to try to calm her racing her heart. “We were just discussing whether or not Jason got replaced by some super-affectionate Christmas-loving clone of himself or something.”

     Damian fell silent again as he considered the couple walking in front of them, Jason animatedly explaining to X all of the different techniques he’d used to build the perfect gingerbread house. “But Todd is always like that when he’s with X. Last week, he upgraded her boots so she can flick knives out of the soles now! And he made us cinnamon rolls.”

     “‘Us’?” Stephanie repeated incredulously. “What do you mean ‘us’?”

     “Wait,” Tim stopped her. “I’m more interested in the ‘cinnamon rolls’ part now.”

     “I go to their apartment once a week so X can help me with my biology homework. And then both of them help me with my literature homework,” Damian explained, shrugging as if it was no big deal that he just casually visited their apartment every week. “And the cinnamon rolls could use some work, but it was an adequate first attempt.”

     Stephanie and Tim exchanged confused looks as they tried to process Damian’s revelation. But suddenly, they stopped short in the kitchen. 

     “What,” Steph began. 

     “The heck,” Tim supplied. 

     “Is that?!” 

     Jason turned to face them, grinning proudly at the shocked expressions on their faces.

     “It’s my gingerbread house,” he announced. The group craned their heads back, incredulously studying Jason’s ten-foot tall gingerbread house. The thing was probably big enough to house an actual person! Jason turned to X and shot her a smug smile when he saw her eyes widen in wonder. “What do you think, baby? Do you like it?”

     “Yes! Oh my god! It’s amazing!” X slung her arms around Jason’s neck and pulled him down to her so she could pepper his face with kisses. “You did such a good job, Jay! Mwah!”

     Jason smiled giddily, his expression turning dazed at his girlfriend’s outpouring of affection.

     “Good job, Todd,” Damian agreed, nodding at the house in approval. “Now, can you do something about the tree?”

     Jason raised an eyebrow as he straightened, regaining his focus. “What’s wrong with the tree?”

     He turned to X in question and she let out an exaggerated sigh in response.  

     “They said that ‘it sucks',” Cass supplied helpfully, the bright smile on her face at odds with her statement.

     “Oh! Shit! My bad!” Dick cursed, shooting them a guilty smile as he raised his hand in the air. “I was supposed to pick one up from the tree farm last week, but Penguin’s goons kept sneaking around Bludhaven, so I got a plastic one as a temporary placeholder.”

     Jason rubbed X’s side as he glared at Dick in anger. How dare his brother try to ruin his precious girlfriend’s favourite holiday! What kind of idiot forgot the f*cking tree for f*cking Christmas?! He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes as he tried to calm himself down for the sake of his sweet little girlfriend.

     Dick watched Jason warily, frantically trying to think of an excuse that might calm him down. His gaze flickered over to X and he shot her a pleading look. “But it’s not that big of a deal, right, X? Christmas is about cherishing the time with the ones you love, not decorating trees and making gingerbread houses … right?”

     X swallowed hard at the desperate expression on Dick’s face and pushed down her disappointment with the fake tree. He did have a point, she tried to convince herself, even if it was her first Christmas with Jason and his family: she usually visited her own family during the holidays and she’d always push Jason to at least go over to his for dinner, but after moving in together earlier that year, she’d decided that she wanted to get involved in her sweet boyfriend’s traditions too. And maybe make some of their own that they might share with their own little family one day. “Ri-”

     “No,” Jason asserted, causing X to look up at him in bewilderment. 

     “What?” Dick asked, equally as confused as X to find a look of determination set into his younger brother’s face. Jason pointed at Tim and Dick and gestured for the two of them to follow him.

     “You and you, you’re coming with me,” he commanded, not waiting for them to follow. Dick exchanged a puzzled glance with Tim as the two of them rushed to keep up with Jason, but Tim just shrugged at him in response. 

     “Where are we going?” Dick asked. Jason stopped by the door to take a dramatic pause. Then he looked up into the distance, his gaze intense.

     “To save Christmas.”

[burncdheart]

"There is no need for such things as repaying me.", the hooded figure waved off, as she walked forward, "You could say I can simply understand the pain coming with such situation. There's a word for that... was it empathy?". Taru squinted as she thought more about it, but soon threw away whatever was on her mind considering this topic. Instead, she focused on their surroundings in case of any attackers nearby.

To her surprise however, the walk went rather smoothly - with the camp soon in sight. "Very well, seems like none of those treasure hunters tried to get back their place.", she sighed in sheer relief, once they reached the simple place underneath one of the many, yellow-leafed trees. Consisting of an unlit campfire a tad further away from the plant - to not set it on fire by mistake - and a few bags littered underneath something that looked like a simple tent, made of thick sticks and some kind of red cloth serving as some kind of 'roof' and 'walls'.

"Erm... make yourself comfortable I guess? And don't question it if you find anything weird. Never know what those people might hide." - or what she might hid.

"I'm unsure if I asked you already - but can you even sew?", she asked after a while of rummaging through several bags, putting out a small box soon, "...and do your wounds need any stitches too?"

Kazuha offers a polite smile, looking down at himself once more. It hurts, but he's not going to complain about a minor injury. He doesn't feel like he's in any immediate danger, at the very least.

"I'll be fine with walking," he says to the stranger. Her willingness to help out a stranger speaks of her character, and Kazuha finds himself even trusting her, just a little. Not enough to spill his life's story, but enough that he can trust she won't take him anywhere odd.

"I thank you," he says to her, pulling his hands away from the injury. "Not too many people would offer such quality aid to someone in need. If I can repay you somehow, I will." Perhaps a bit over-eager for a simple act, but to Kazuha, it means a great deal.

[willeekmer]

No more a CC creator - lenghty post 💔

I don't think I'll ever be ready to talk about this haha 😅 but better sooner than later.

As you may have noticed, my passion for creating has slowly been dwindling.... I loved creating for TSR (The Sims Resource) and I'm very grateful I got the opportunity and a Featured Artist badge on there, but the sims has been very buggy lately and not enjoyable at all.

Besides slowly loosing my passion for the sims and creating, my mental health has also been declining (which I don't really like talking about, please don't worry about me I'm fine and taking care of myself 💗)

These things and a lot more I won't mention led me to loose my creativity and will to create and sadly I also lost my Featured Artist badge with that. I don't blame TSR for taking my badge, I have been really inactive this year but my heart goes out to all my fellow artists who've lost their badges for seemingly no reason at all 💔

At the moment I'm not sure if I'll ever return to creating/making cc again 😔

But I do want to end this on a positive note 😄 THANK YOU SO MUCH TO EVERYONE who downloaded any of my things, who reblogged or liked my posts and thank you for all the lovely comments and for tagging me when you use my cc 💖

When I started creating I never even thought people would like my stuff this much, thank you all for being such a lovely community 😭 and special thanks to the amazing artists I got to met at TSR (Feyona, PinkyCustomWorld, Evi, Caroll, LVNDR, ArwenKaboom, Aurum, Puresim, NILYN, Pizazz, Shakeproductions, EvilQuinzel, Dissia to name a few, I'm so sorry if I forgot someone y'all (the artists) are all so lovely😭💗)

[efpizza]

I'm working my way down the list of requests, I'm sorry for the long wait! I took a lenghty break but now i'm back. Anon, I hope you like it!

Featuring Bran and The Three eyed Crow in the falling dream (Actually one of my favorite chapters!);

A crow was spiraling down with him, just out of reach, following him as he fell. "Help me," he said.

I'm trying, the crow replied. Say, got any corn?

Bran reached into his pocket. When he pulled his hand out, golden kernels slid from between his fingers into the air. They fell with him.

The crow landed on his hand and began to eat.

"Are you really a crow?" Bran asked.

Are you really falling? the crow asked back.

"It's just a dream," Bran said.

Is it? asked the crow.

"I'll wake up when I hit the ground," Bran told the bird.

You'll die when you hit the ground, the crow said. It went back to eating corn.

Bran looked down. He could see mountains now, their peaks white with snow, and the silver thread of rivers in dark woods. He closed his eyes and began to cry.

That won't do any good, the crow said. I told you, the answer is flying, not crying. How hard can it be. I'm doing it.

(bran, a game of thrones)

[bigalockwood]

Lia, I think the story of the scar you've got by saving a horse from a carrot needs more details !!!

Hey <333 Sorry this took as long to answer - I just never got around to it. Here's a (way too lenghty) explanation.

To tell you what happened, I need to go into horse anatomy first. Horses can't throw up. The esophagus enters the stomach at a steep angle, creating a one-way valve that prevents food from traveling back the way it came. It can only ever travel on through the stomach and digestive tract. This means that if food gets stuck in the horse's throat or esophagus, it can't be vomited out but will stay where it is. Sometimes massages can help to keep the food moving, but, depending on severity, the vet has to be called.

Now, I had just given Z (loml) a carrot. He was fine, until another horse walked by and that stupid ass had to defend his carrot, which made him swallow a too big piece. I could immediately tell that it had *not* gone down where it's supposed to go and that it wouldn't keep moving down either, and since I didn't want to call the vet, I just pulled open his mouth, stuck my hand down his throat, and retrieved the carrot that had (thankfully) not gone all the way down. (This is not an official or recommended way to deal with this sort of thing. There are other (and better) ways to do it). Anyway. He obviously couldn't just make his teeth disappear, so he bit down hard on my finger. I was a bit worried it might be broken because I couldn't move it at all for a while, but turns out nothing had happened (as far as I know - I didn't get it checked, so who knows), except for a deep-ish wound on both sides of my knuckle. The scars are still there and a nice reminder of him. <33

[enjomo-arch]

It  was  a  refreshing  change  to  spend  time  on  his  younger  brother's  ship.  He  didn't  plan  for  his  presence  to  be  too  long,  but  even  so,  Sunny  was  sailing  in  exactly  the  same  direction  Ace  was  going.  It  appears  that  a  lot  has  changed  since  the  last  meeting  in  Alabasta.  Not  only  did  he  expect  much  more  strength  and  bonding  between  the  friends  Luffy  had  made  for  himself,  but  they  had  even  grown  up  in  his  eyes  in  all  that  time.  Ace  tried  not  to  draw  too  much  attention  to  himself  as  he  walked  around  the  deck,  despite  the  fact  that  their  doctor's  curiosity  was  palpable,  and  Luffy  wouldn't  stop  bombarding  him  with  questions  about  the  trip  Ace  had  taken  in  between.

That  day,  however,  the  mood  was  quite  different.  It  was  as  if  the  others  were  getting  ready  for  something.  The  doctor  was  scribbling  something  on  paper  with  crayons,  Sniper  and  Luffy  were  covered  in  paint  and  decorating  small  wooden  ornaments  in  the  shape  of  hearts  with  their  brushes,  and  the  smell  of  sweets  could  be  detected  through  the  ajar  kitchen  door.  Ace  passed  each  of  them  with  a  hum  in  his  throat,  catching  glimpses  of  the  work.

Turning  his  head  away,  he  reached  out  a  single  hand  to  scratch  the  back  of  his  neck,  and  his  movements  came  to  a  halt.  He  nearly  ran  into  the  navigator  girl.  Only  her  voice  caused  him  to  come  to  a  halt  as  brown  irises  examined  the  sweets  she  offered.  He  was,  in  fact,  taken  aback  and  perplexed.  On  this  crew's  ship,  kindness  appeared  to  be  the  norm,  which  Ace  was  unfamiliar  with.  When  he  remembered,  his  gaze  returned  to  her,  and  his  lips  pulled  into  an  awkward  grin.  Valentine's  Day,  of  course.  Isn't  that  the  day  when  people  share  love  ?  ❝  'ight,  yeah.  Thanks.  ❞  Everything  happened  so  quickly  that  Ace  was  at  a  loss  for  words  to  begin  with.  He  needed  a  few  more  seconds  of  silent  staring  at  the  enticing  sight  of  sweets  before  he  accepted  them.  He  could  feel  his  mouth  watering  just  from  the  smell.  He  had  to  have  a  weakness  for  chocolate.  ❝  Don't  exaggerate  it  surely  they  won't  be  bad.  They  smell  delicious,  and  I'm  sure  they  taste  even  better.  ❞

Ace  picked  up  the  small,  round  chocolate  ball  with  his  thick  fingers  and  snapped  his  digits,  sending  it  flying  before  catching  it  in  his  open  mouth.  When  the  contents  inside  spilled  across  the  insides,  painting  his  mouth  with  various  sweet,  fruity  flavors  mixed  with  firey  hot  ingredients,  his  cheeks  puffed,  moving  along  with  his  tongue.  The  burning  spread  swiftly  across  his  mouth's  walls,  only  to  reach  his  clenched  throat.  The  fire  fist's  lips  turned  red  and  swollen  from  the  burning  sensation  of  the  sweetness,  and  Adam's  apple  bobbed  slightly.  ❝  They're  incredible,  Nami  !  How  did  y'find  out  I  liked  hot  stuff?  Mixed  it  with  chocolate  too  ?  ❞

He  felt  he  didn't  deserve  it  after  all,  so  he  decided  to  repay  her  kindness  by  offering  her  one  of  the  chocolates.  He  was  holding  it  between  his  fingers.  Ace's  gaze  never  left  Nami's  sight  for  a  second.  Waiting,  excited  to  share  it  with  her  because  he  didn't  have  anything  else  to  offer  her.  ❝  Take  this  one.  I  want  you  to  share  them  with  me.  After  all,  you  have  to  taste  your  amazin'  work,  sister  !  ❞

∘ ◦ 🍊 — homemade valentine's chocolates! @flambace / ace

Growing up on a mikan orchard, Nami had been raised to combine the fruit with anything. Mikan sauce with duck, mikan curry, mikan-flavoured taffy. Bell-mére-san's cooking could be considered experimental but with the lack of finances they had, she took it as a challenge to combine the citrusy flavour to what they did have access to. So Nami was relatively comfortable combining strange flavours together. Or at least she had thought so.

She only hopes that the insides of these poor chocolates taste as delicious as the outside. With Sanji-kun's help, the delicious, creamy texture of the chocolate had turned out perfect as Nami had constantly stirred the concoction on a low heat. But when it came to pouring the moulds and creating the filling? That... had been another story. She knows Ace likes hot food, very reminiscent of his Devil Fruit, so she is sure he more than likely would enjoy the burning sensation like a firewhiskey against his throat. But combining it with something sweet?

When she had tried one (begrudgingly), the chocolate had been perfect. Hard, milky, sugary. But when her teeth had sunk past it and her tongue met the red centre she had managed to create as a fondant (ghost peppers, a honeyed-lava scotch she had managed to swipe a while ago, cayenne and an assortment of other spices), she had nearly gagged. Whether it was from her mouth being on fire or the fact that it tasted ghastly to her, she didn't know nor could she feel her mouth still.

So, she's a little nervous to offer them to Ace, but hands him the box apprehensively. ❝ I'm not sure how they'll taste, but... Happy Valentines's Day? ❞ Nami begins awkwardly. ❝ If you don't like them, I expect you to pay me back with three times the interest. ❞

[dazzlep0p]

In addition to my last post of episodes I hope we see in TADC, here's some more I thought of Recently! (Sorry if this gets lenghty!)

• "After hours" episode - where we see how the characters spend their time at night. Since none of them need sleep anyway we might see some night-time shenanigans?

• "Sleepover" episode - this one also related to the digital worlds "night" time. Perhaps Caine will decide to shake things up a little with a sleepover that turns into an Adventure? I want to see Jax tell everyone a scary story and be like "haha just kidding I made that up" and then they experience the exact same events that happened in the story to the point where even Jax is scared of what's happening, then right when they think they're about to die the big scary turns out to be Caine and Bubble playing a very elaborate joke on them.

• Sports episode - where they play a normal sport like basketball or dodgeball but Caine throws something in to make it more deadly?? Like for example, they play dodgeball but instead of a normal ball they have a "ball of infinate possibilities" that does something to anyone who gets hit by it? Maybe it'll turn into a swarm of bees? Maybe it'll catch on fire? Explode into glitter? Turn into an anvil? Swap the personality of the person it hits? Send them into the stratosphere? Who knows!!

...that's kind of all the ideas I've got for now. There will probably be more later?

[plasticfangtastic]

Can we Be Lonely Together? Ch. 2

A Homelander x Stalker!Reader fanfic

This is a gender neutral fanfic but deep down its just a Homelander X Joe Goldberg fic do with that as you wish. This is a slow burn fic btw

PLZ FORGIVE ME I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PUT A READ MORE OPTION ON MOBILE SO SORRY IF THIS LOOKS LENGHTY.

Summary: We were two mices pretending to be cats, weren't we?

We Didn't expect to find ourselves int his situation, But John... Homelander... You were perfect... none of this was a lie, these feelings are genuine! So I don't know why you're using such words... stalker... pyschotic bitch? Insane... Liar!? to describe me, after all I've done for you-- Us!? all I done to help you!?

You were wrong.

I just yearned to get closer so what if I did my homework? After all you played along. I knew you knew... you were so loud

R18: TW murder mention, CSEM mention.

Chapter two

Financial Advice for Crooks.

I had my vices.

Life hadn’t been easy, I had limited options and limited paths for the longest time so when I finally had a taste of anything but misery I sank my teeth in its throat, I settled my nest in a corpse of my past– I found my calling. Got my groove on, and began to move up in my way to hell. I made my money, and I made connections, and eventually I got used to this lifestyle.

I thought you would’ve been impressed by how good I was at my job… 

So I came to New York for business. It wasn’t cheap, but unlike the usual dreamers… they didn’t come to this city with a terabyte of crap to blackmail their landlord to lower their rent seventy-five-percent below street average. So I treated myself to the finer things, expensive things… short lived things… so all the meals and wine money could offer, material things didn’t last, but I wanted to feel good… the sort of good where sex doesn’t compare, beside I could never be loved or love… until I met you.

So I devoured with gusto all the Michelin stars, critics recommendations in the Times, highest rated Yelp! review joint, hidden gems, and anything that failed to include the price on the menu... I lived for once. 

For I was starved… until now.

So there I was in some bloody fucking warehouse tied up, my left arm dislocated and a five inch nail adhering my palm to this facebook marketplace find of a chair.

Let’s not even discuss the state of my face.

“You think you can rob me!? I gave you my trust! I welcome you into my family! I let you babysit my fucking kids! And this is how you repay me!? Stealing from me!?” His voice was louder than any thought around me.

I could hardly see or hear anything, my eyes swollen and my ears throbbing, hot, stiff, my shoulders burnt, my hand itching, and screaming.

“I’ll… I’ll pay…”

“Doesn’t change anything, kiddo. If I let you live then word gets out in the streets that you can disrespect me, and sail smoothly!”

“I’ll pay you double the interest! Come on Roman! I fucked up!” I can barely think, my mouth is dry and wet– I can get you something good!” My throat rips itself apart trying to speak to this suited hooligan.

“Like I care… get this bitch out my face.” he said to some goon behind me.

“Vought! I can get you Vought!”

It's always on your mind. You become a petulant child when it comes to Vought– your biggest competitor.

“Excuse you?”

“Edgar is on his way out. The market is going to be in a panic, no?” I spit drool and my teeth– word is that Homelander will take the helm… you think that homeschooled twat can manage to run one of the biggest companies in the world? I’ll get you the trading secrets… I’ll get.. you anything…”

“How do you know Edgar is out? What are you saying?”

“My FBSA contact… they didn’t pay up, so I gave them a visit… and that Neuman chick was so fucking loud. Something about a big press release in a couple days, they’re gonna arrest Edgar. The Homelander wants him out.”

“Why do you have a contact in the FBSA?”

“I wanted to pay you… needed some Supe to blackmail…”

“You’re lying.”

“Keep me alive until you see the bitch on the news. Help me get a job at Vought. I’ll get you something worth more than One-Hundred-K.” I plead, my voice a tire running out of air– please… Roman… please I beg you… believe me one more time! even I wouldn’t lie about this.”

It might’ve been the fantasy that gave him the capacity to hand mercies for he kept me alive in that warehouse for two days, for your new girlfriend was on the TV hitting Edgar like an avalanche.

Cut to, three weeks later, there I’m in business attire sitting across an exhausted HR rep who can’t believe his boss is making him do this, behind the almost perfect smile, and the mundane questions he had already hired me, my resume was perfect and seeing the urgency pulling at his leash even if my resume hadn’t been finely crafted, your company would’ve given me the job. The department was stressed while being examined closely by the shareholders, the whole company was frantic.

I got the call by the end of the week.

By Monday there I was walking into that massive hundred plus storey behemoth of a tower, worse than any fugly billionaire row structure. I saw why people were impressed by this butt-plug of a building, just sucking on the land around it, hogging all the air space with its glass ‘Seven’ and its name illuminating the airspace, big enough to have its own gravitational pull and New Yorkers were the moons running laps around it.

Before I knew it I was dragged around by security to receive my special keycard with my fake name and all, then met the highest qualified person in this department, some sweet anxious thing called Anika, you know her– if not the smell of adrenaline she gives off when you’re around.

It seems people here were allergic to sunlight– any light actually! This couldn’t be good for anyone's eyes.

She handed me a desk, and well everything after that must be quite boring for you, so let me TDLR…

There was a reason why I chose this department. I could’ve aimed to be an assistant, worked in any other department, even been the fucking janitor and I would had been able to fulfil my task, but I knew that Vought had all the resources and cutting edge technology to get the fuck away from Roman Ban and Banvision Global. In here I’d forge a new name, destroy all trace of my existence, what little there was of my digital fingerprint, and above all… I could make money.

It wasn’t difficult. 

So I started with Kevin… sorry I meant… The Deep (ugh) his mind was easy to navigate, behind the mountain of cetacean erotica, self-loathing, bisexual worries, genuine environmental worries, his abs and octopussy fantasies– it didn’t take me long to find out his social security number, his bank account passwords and numbers, social media passwords, both private and public– did you know he had an account in the Jeremy Renner app? Anyhoo… I had all I needed written in sparkly ink, and swirly cursive. 

I simply had to sell some tabloid his web search history, or transfer small amounts at a time to an offshore account, small enough to go unnoticed disguised as his usual transactions, he had several trials and memberships he had yet to cancel-- I pitied Deep to a degree we both had been bad with money. I just didn’t spend most of my money donating to cults and environmental causes. 

As the days went by I collected passwords and keys from all suits worth a damn, and did my job to cancel those memberships diverting them to me, and taking small amounts, collecting and crafting packages to blackmail them, sending personalized emails demanding ransom, etcetera.

But I had a guy ready to kill me to prove a point, so I kept working.

The more I saw my plan coming together, the more brazen I became. I thought I’d be there for a month at most… so there I was staying till late. My mind still assaulted by the discovery of the depth of the Deep’s depravity, and his annoying wife, this wasn’t my first introductory lesson into bestiality… that had been in the fifth grade at a Wendy’s parking lot when my powers were at their worst– and he wasn’t the only person on this floor that indulged in filth, not even the worse kind, the worse was that lady in IT storing a hard-drive with the sort of shit, that will have the FBI shutting down Vought for a couple days to investigate why there’s kids stored in the company servers– which… I did… tell Roman about.

“Excuse me?”

I had forgotten till now.

“Yeah… Joanne in IT… you should… keep Ryan away from that floor, just saying ‘cuz she ain’t ugly and he’s vulnerable.”

I’ve never seen you so pale, almost as pale as the corpse next to the couch.

“Anyways I was saying…”

I love how family oriented you are. The way your heart was racing just now, the way your jaw twitched for a second, it was sweet how much you cared.

“There’s also that guy in security who’s been stealing shit to roofie girls.”

Your pretty blonde locks felt to the side of your forehead, as you cocked your head confusedly.

I sat in that screen lit room, waiting for the building to get as quiet as it possibly could. There were always people in this place, sleepyheads and night shifts. This place had become less phallic and more a living organism, every hallway and room serving a function to keep it erect non-stop.

Curiosity won over me and I love obscene indulgences, I have an appetite for things that do me no good. So I knew a place I had to see So there I’m in the elevator knowing the floor is mostly empty, and knowing I had the floor all for myself, knowing where every soul was placed and the password to erased the security footage (plus I had already blackmail the right security guard) I headed upstairs to a special place.

The ninety-nine floor.

Walking across the golden marble, crossing the wooden frames and the gallery of greatest hits with no artistic value intrinsic to them– I saw the statues guarding the Seven’s boardroom, and found an unlocked sliding door. The silvery "Seven" table, with all its sharp edges, the famous chairs every supe in the world wanted to sit down on– not me. 

I wasn’t pretty enough for the pageant circuit, my parents were… disappointed… to say the least… found me creepy, repulsive even! saying I kept them hostage in their own home, unable to keep anything hidden. I tried to control my powers until they could forgive me, anyone…could forgive me, so I never imagined myself in this room, much less in spandex.

So I sat on your chair, at the helm turning to see the best view of the big city.

Your statues and your painting staring down on me, you were unbearable, just a pretty blond in tights, with a padded suit even for your dick as if you needed protection from upcoming kicks to the balls. Everybody feared you, and if they didn’t they wanted to be you, you seemed so far up your ass– and all your staff simply indulged you, afraid that even an atomic bomb couldn’t stop your tantrums. Too afraid to tell you… even if your name was on the door, you weren’t running shit. All the actual work was done by your former assistant it seemed, just delivered dumbed down to your level by the time it reached this table for you to play pretend, and feel like a big boy. 

I was surprised you could even read, but then again you could shoot lasers out of your eyes and if rumor was true your piss was acid– so Jesus knows I wasn’t going to question it.

Your chair was comfy, and I bet all those numbnuts wished they could sit on it.

The view was worth it, I could see why people liked this stupid city– did my job and ate quickly but I wanted more… so thankfully I had a good book on my kindle and a juicy chapter to unfold.

Looking at the clock I cleaned myself and began heading out, my mind finally shutting down, it was the only way I could sleep, Soon I would’ve been awake trying to hold my head together… I know you were at my house so I know you saw the valium next to my bed, and the mix-and-match bags of sleeping pills.

I should’ve looked at the clock better, I should’ve hung in there, freely disrupting my routine willingly. It was nice to hear nothing, just the sound of my wispy breath and my loafers squeaking, in this silence I failed to notice you.

I failed to notice you had entered this place at all. Did you find it hard to sleep? Did you step outside your enclosure looking for enrichment? I wasn’t thinking that when I stepped into the elevator with my eyes glued to my phone, you weren’t on my radar. 

My heart nearly burst out of my chest at the sight of red gloves holding the door.

My bladder nearly emptying itself.

When your frame came into my general vicinity. I swallowed hard. Still had some cheese caught behind my teeth.

Nervously I looked up, catching the back of the American flag and your shoulder pads. Golden eagles caging me, frosted tips right before my eyes, and your hand pressing on the elevator going up.

My hand still hovering near the control panel aching to press down, your collar creeked as you turned to look at my insignificant presence.

“What floor?”

How polite, your voice so quiet, guess you hadn’t noticed me either.

“Ground… thank you.”

Your perfume was virtually non-existent, you were warmth, sunflowers and cotton. I had cats to kill it seems for I looked up catching your disturbed reflection in the chrome. Your eyes somewhere else, something about that picture made me too curious.

I turned it back on: feeling the burst, holding a wince behind my teeth. I found myself leaning against the wall, your ear picking up as I held my head lightly.

You found me annoying, dramatic, loud. I held back my breath as I fixed myself in the corner, just out of fear.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” 

I’m dead. I thought

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing you are!”

I…I…I am sorr– I began to mumble.

You weren’t saying anything, but it was you speaking. Screaming at yourself. 

That voice so rough and you became so meek, I took a quarter step forward-- in this small box I could do more than just listen, in the chrome your face moved, it spoke and walked in his few feets of space looking down on you, taunting you, remind you of today’s failures listing them as if he was your mother in the middle of math homework.

You could cry.

You wanted to cry.

You were a wave, a wave pulling me further into the sea and I had no idea how to swim any longer. How? How could you see yourself like this? Why do you let him act like this? 

When had you turned to see me? Had my leaning been too noticeable, could you smell the provolone in my tongue? My lips shakily pursed upwards.

It seemed the voice faded away.

“Did you get lost?” You looked directly at my badge.

“Heard they had mints in this floor’s bathroom.” where’s my fucking oscar!? 

Homelander mouth half open, too tired to react just shaking awkwardly but your half closed eyes watched me curiously.

And finally I saw your face.

Your eyes were so tired, everything about you looked exhausted, your posture kept straight by your suit pulling you up, but when your lip indulged in the joke. 

Magic.

My heart sang a song made in your honor, my cheeks so flushed it made me itchy. 

The elevator stopped but you didn’t leave when the doors opened, your finger pressed lightly on the right command.

“Who are you?”

“A corporate spy sent to steal trading secrets for your competitors”

You bombarded me with a singular warning “Don’t lie.” I lived in a world where nobody could lie to me, it got boring, it got insulting, hateful, cruel, so I wasn’t going to lie to you, not when I knew you wanted to decompress… with my spine.

You laughed.

It was so cute– you moved in slowmo.

You took a step back, listening to my unfazed heartbeat, I told you the truth but you heard a joke, maybe you needed a laugh for that voice was back to pestering you.

“I’m new. I was curious about the Seven’s gallery… sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.” You said with a jovial tone so threatening it reverted to being sweet– got it?”

Not a single picture, drawing, GIF, fancam, etcetera. Did ya justice, I could see it now… why everybody fawned over you, but I saw something else.

Behind those blue eyes.

Was the loneliest man in the world.

Your mind I wanted to peek more. I wanted to speak and decipher that voice in your head, I wanted to see why you hated those people under you, I wanted to understand what made you so upset that no matter how much you tried threatening me, it wouldn’t… it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“I’m sincerely sorry.” I said barely whispering but you heard it crystal clear– hope you have a goodnight Mister Gillman.”

The doors began to close as your eyes widened and your lips shaped an ‘O’.

I could’ve sworn your cheeks turned pale and pink.

Mine were candy apples, for once… I regretted saying Good night.

[mysticplies]

Oh Gosh I just found your blog and I love it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There's just so so so much little pieces of lore all around! I'd love love love to have a lenghty talk about everything with you lol, also got my mind back to some OCs I have around somewhere.

Sorry for the rambling, I hope to see more of your work in the future

thanks so much and sure! Im open for any conversation

[cecealonso]

living alone didn't entirely separate cece from the family issues and the family drama. it wasn't like she even lived too far from them... the way she grew up and the culture of her family was tight-knit, intertwined in everything they all did. family was important to cece which is why everything that was going on was weighing in on her in a way that felt suffocating. her only outlet had been writing but the kind of writing she wanted to get done was not giving her the results she needed: more money. gossiping and writing about whatever the people in this town did was not what she wanted to do for her whole life but for now, it's what kept the lights on and maintained her lavish lifestyle. those pearls were not gonna buy themselves.

coming to the beach always soothed her; it was the caribbean girl in her that found that affinity to the water, both the beach and the river. she felt blessed her family had decided to settle near the beach because being apart from it affected her greatly.

during a friday night no one would bet to find celia alonso walking down the beach but that was exactly what made it the perfect moment to do so. while everyone was home getting ready, getting their make up done and their hairs poofed, she was toes deep in the sand, breathing the salty air. of course her skates were hanging from her shoulder, this was the long way to the rink and she'd show up looking like a goddess, still.

cece was halfway through her usual route when she noticed from afar someone getting in the water looking odd. she squinted a little to try and make out who it was but she was sure this is someone she had never seen in town before. the distance between them was closing and by the time she had reached where the other person was they were already pulling on their shirt and lighting a cigarette.

she heard him direct her towards the rink and she tried not to roll her eyes, as to not be rude the first time she's meeting this person. "thanks for the directions, even though i did not need them," cece said frankly. she could only try so hard. "looks like you need more direction than i do."

her eyes went over his figure - tall, roughed up, his aura was inviting but there was certainly something meant to keep people away, and that only made cece want to get closer. "something tells me you're new in town."

God, he'd missed the beach. So much it stung. Then again, plenty did, these days; the ocean might not fix any of that, but, hell. Couldn't hurt. Especially after a day spent ripping into the old house, hacking through every kicked-up swirl of dust. Even so, he'd wound up taking the long way - the evening clusters of shrieking teenagers and slow-strolling tourists and, shit, couples, hand in hand along the sand... no, they could keep the boardwalk, and Birch Bay proper. There was more beach to be had, if you kept walking. He just needed a little saltwater and goddamn space.

Soon as he found it, dead quiet but for the rustle of sawgrass and the roll of the waves, Dee tugged his workboots and socks off, peeled his well-worn shirt and undershirt away, and waded in up to his ragged cutoffs. The salt sparked across the slivers he'd scraped out, the knuckle he'd skinned; cupped in his better hand, he sluiced the water up and over his chest, his shoulders, the wire of them sore and fraying. Then he bent, slow, and soaked his hair. There. The cool and the clean of it ran through him, bringing a relieved rattle of a sigh along with. Eyes closed, he drew all those wet curls out of his face. And stood, a moment. Just swaying in the surf, squinting towards where sunset had bruised the clouds to a dark indigo and the line between sea and sky was starting to bleed right through, into night.

First night of the rest of his fucking life, back in Stillwater. Stellar.

Fuck, he could use a smoke.

Dee turned, and froze at the sight of someone drifting down the beach. Breeze-blown, beautiful. With a cattish kind of look in those big eyes - something between curious and cautious. Lost tourist, maybe. Well, shit. There was nothing to see here. That sigh settled into a tight-jawed huff as he waded back to his things, pulling his shirt over the angry tide of still-fresh scars rippling across his skin, ridged and roped with flotsam and jetsam or whatever the fuck. Nothing to see. Dee bothered with about half the damn buttons before he went digging for his cigarettes. The company was too close to ignore, now; yeah, he still had some sorta manners. "The, uh - the rink's that way," he cracked his lighter and tipped his chin towards the roller skates slung over her shoulder, then cocked his head in the general direction of Oakbury and the Hub, blowing a blue curl of smoke into the evening. "If you're looking." For anywhere else to go. He'd be real happy to help.

@cecealonso

[safely-in-vhagars-belly]

fire and blood the fanfic, chapter 16: Last fluttering of wings, prisoner exchange dark and i mean dark aemond and aegon as well as a lenghty chapter full of torture. Part 16 of a story.

Concept: You were aemonds and aegons fuckbuddy before the greens decided to take the throne, once they took the throne, they killed your father, you were upset about that but convinced they loved you anyway and since it was criston who killed them you didnt blame them as much for it, after you threw a tantrum at your fathers funeral after learning that aemond is engaged and aegon has a fourth child on the way, (and both ignored you for weeks and also didnt bother to be at you know, your fathers funeral) you all got into a huge agressive fight that ended with a lot of dark stuff and you getting shoved into a cage. HOWEVER- *Takes a sip of waterbottle* Aemond ''killed'' luc and you were allowed out to be his gift for his heroic deeds (their words not mine) and two assasins mistook you for Helaena, bringing you to Dragonstone where Jacerys proposed to you, planning to make your family the new high family of the reach, as well as dealing a hard blow to aemond and aegon in the process. But can you say yes?

warnings: dark aemond, dark aegon, non-con, dub-con, violence, war crimes smut breeding kinks, rough sex and other things. They call Rhaenys unkind things as well.

Otto, seeing that his grandsons did not inherit a single braincell from him.

Jace still holds your hand, ready and eager to push his rings on your fingers. To make you his Queen. You gently slide your hands out of his. You know the iron throne. You know the realm. It's a cost you can't bear and nor will you pass it down to any of your possible children.

Your heart is broken. Your sister is gone, and they did it. They killed her. You killed her indirectly.

You help Jace up, as your friend, and as his future subject. 'You flatter me, my Prince. But even you must understand that I can't possibly accept.' You hope that is enough, but judging his face, it is not.

Your head bops up and down in Baela's direction. 'There are two ladies who should sit that iron chair, and none of them are me.' You hand him back his ring, gently.

He takes it very well. He stands up and straightens his back and keeps respectful. You expected him to throw a tantrum or perhaps to even cry. But he is no Aegon. He is not Aemond. He is Jace. He is calm and gentle. He will never hurt you. 'I am so sorry, Brienne. I had hoped you would accept this proposal.' Jace sighs dramatically, and the way he touches your face reminds you of Aegon.

You nod. 'I understand, my friend. I hope we can remain friends. We can forget this ever happened.'

Daemon reads the letter and his brows raise in mockery as he hands the paper to his Queen. She takes it from him and reads it, her heart clearly sinking. You watch in horror. 'More bad news?' You guess nervously playing with your bracelet.

The Queen sighs before giving her husband a nod. 'It is war, Brienne. You understand that I lost my son already.' She says. 'And a daughter too.'

A guard suddenly appears behind you, taking you into custody. 'Please escort Lady Beesburry back to her rooms. It is time I have a chat with my son and my heir.' She gives Jace a glare. You are grabbed by your arms and escorted out of the rooms.

-- The next morning, the reality is hitting you hard. Your sister is gone. She was good and kind. Sometimes, you fought like all siblings. You are glad she went after your father. He could not survive the thought of living in a world without her. But then again, neither can you.

You have been given a basket of books and do a bit of reading, but you end up reading the same sentence over and over and over. There are many good stories in your basket that you can't focus on. You have the feeling that a dark storm is approaching and it's coming in fast.

The door of your cell is unlocked, and two guards escort you out of it, to the throne room. Rhaenyra sits the throne and is waiting for you. She seems tired and restless. Daemon is near her side, and so is jace.

Still a lady, you curtsy. 'Good morrow, my queen. Is there any way I may be of service?'

Rhaenyra's smile breaks briefly, and you see that she avoids your eyes. 'I am sorry. You have no dragon. Rhaenys does.' What does that even mean? Of course, you do not have a dragon. You are Beesburry.

Rhaenys does. 'What does that mean?' You blurt out confused.

Daemon smiles, and you feel yourself become uneasy by his smug little smile. 'It means you are going back to sucking cocks and getting fucked soon. Aemond and Aegon agreed on a prisoner exchange. Your useless ass for Rhaenys and her dragon.' You are shocked.

Shocked because they agreed to that. You are so useless compared to a dragon or a princess. 'But I do no longer wish to be there. They will hurt me.' Your voice becomes small and breakable.

The Queen sighs and she seems to pity you. 'My hands are tied. We already agreed to meet them.' You wish there was another way. You will not go back to them. You would rather die.

Daemon seems to notice you are about to run and grabs you by your waiste as he chains you as if you are an animal.

--------- They choose a spot on neutral ground, near a forest. There is an open field near the King's Woods where they will do the exchange. The time has been set during noon. You were transported on Dragon back. You cried and screamed the entire ride. You never rode a dragon before.

You have chains around your neck and hands, and Daemon drags you along to the agreed spot. He and Rhaenyra and their children and all of their dragons are waiting for the two Greens.

During the sun's brightest hour, you notice two familiar dragons circling the skies before landing as well. Vhagar and Sunfyre. Aemond lands Vhagar and gets off. Sunfyre and Aegon land near you, and you keep your distance still not used to the gigantic animals they all seem so familiar with. You are more terrified of the dragons than of your fate.

Rhaenyra keeps her distance from both her brothers when Daemon sharply tugs your collar, dragging you with him to his nephews. You are forced to walk with him, but his legs are longer, so you need to hurry up.

Aegon bristles in anger when Aemond takes in your body. They did not allow you another gown, so you are still wearing the one you were captured in. His reward gown. Daemon halts in the middle of the field and waits for them to come.

Aemond decides to come over so his king can stay safely with the dragons and the guard. 'That is not yours, Uncle. That belongs to me and my brother.' He says arrogantly. You bite your lip. He looks to you. 'And you? You can prepare yourself for a proper and suitable punishment, Lady Beesbury.'

Daemon ignores your soft whimpers. 'Where is Rhaenys?'

You back away, slightly stepping on Daemon's foot. You are quick to apologise, but Daemon doesn't even seem to notice. He watches Rhaenys being dragged out by a leash as well. Her gown is ripped, and the once white fabric turned an awful crimson colour. She has burns on her body and also a huge scar by her cheeks. Aemond proudly takes her from Cole, who delivers her. Aemond seems to look around for her husband.

The Sea snake spots him. Aemond makes a show of grabbing Rhaenys by her throat and throwing her on the ground before handing Daemon the chains. 'We didn't fuck your pretty wife, Corlys. We like them young, and we like them tight.'

Rhaenys takes you in and judges your chains and fine dress. You mutter an apology to her. She turns around, surprised. She walks back to you. 'Do not pity me, child. I am free now. You are captured once more.'

There is a soft smack on your behind, and you growl out loud. Aemond tightens the chains by pulling them slowly, closing off your throat. With a sickened smirk, he carries you to his brother. You are dizzy when they place you on your feet.

You stumble in their direction. You had quiet hope that they would let you go free. You nearly fall, but Aegon captures you into his strong arms. Your eyes meet, and you slowly feel yourself become more at ease.

The Blacks take off with Rhaenys. Maelys follows soon after. You watch as they take off and realise you are at the mercy of your tormentors once more.

Aegon still has you in his arms. He leans in closely and presses his nose against your own before gently kissing your lips. He seems to breathe in your scent, and he mutters in high valyrian that he missed you. You break yourself free. 'I am not coming. I want to hear what happened to my sister.' You demand.

Aemond grins at his brother. 'Well it's simple. We wanted to lure you out to HoneyHolt and to trap you there. But since you are already ours now, that's unnecessary.' That is cruel. Your sister died for nothing.

Your head hangs and you tear up. 'You two really killed her. Why? She was everything to me.'

Aegons eyes roll. 'Enough, we will talk about it when we get home.' He warns you with his glare. Home. Does that mean they will change their rules? That you will have access to your rooms? To your ladies? You hope so.

You scoff at that. You are many things, but you are not a coward. 'I am not coming. And King's Landing is not my home.' You say bravely.

The king nods to his brother. 'Do it.' He says. Aemond eagerly grabs a small bottle of dark black essence from the pocket of his jacket.

'W-what is that?' You whisper, terrified.

He grins. 'A bit of nightshade. It does wonders for little brats who do not obey.' Nightshade is a dangerous poison that can knock people out or worse.

You back away. 'That's deadly.' To your horror, Aegon is already holding you tight, so you can't run.

'Only in high doses. You will get just a tiny little drop.' He places the bottle against your lips and gently pours a bit in your mouth. It is bitter. Aegon forces you to swallow it.

You are let go of the moment you have swallowed it. Aemond puts the bottle back in his pocket.

You are pushed inside the same cage they moved the princess in and the door is locked. You try to keep awake but slowly drift off to sleep.

--- You awake hours later. Back in the cell. You thought they would allow you back to your rooms. You get up from the soft bed and rush to the door. You try to open it first carefully but later desperately slamming against it, trying to rip the bars apart. 'No! No no!' You whimper before bursting into tears.

A voice chuckles behind you. 'It's not so bad. We could give you a regular cell. You are comfortable here, little bee. Much more comfortable than you deserve for your actions.' He thinks you left voluntarily. He says it's not bad, but you know he won't survive a day within this cage or any without going insane.

You tell him what really happened. 'They kidnapped me. I did not want to come with them. They thought I was Helaena. They called me the Queen.' You say.

Aemond grabs the belt of your dress that is decorated with jewels and takes it off. He grabs your necklace and rips it from your neck. You are aware that he is eying your breasts and slams you against the bars of the cells. The bars poke and hurt you.

There is a soft gasp from your mouth as he starts to leave small tiny kisses on your collar bone, to your shoulders, to your neck, and to your breasts. Your legs are parted. 'Aemond, we should wait for Aegon.' You remind him kindly. You hope it will save you again. In the halls it did not matter, but you were punished. Perhaps this will be different. Perhaps he will care.

Aemond has little respect for you but backs away because he loves his brother. 'On your bed, little bee. Do not make me wait.' You obediently go to the bed and sit down. You hope he wants something else than what you suspect.

He grabs his belt and takes it off, he puts his coat on the chair by your desk and slowly unbottoms his shirt. You shake your head lightly. 'No, Aegon is not here-'

There is an awful loud laugh coming from him before he comes over and forces your chin in his hands. He grins at you before smashing his lips on yours. You weakly push him away. It works briefly. The next time he comes for you, he pins you down and listens to your little whimpers 'Aegon does not care for your little useless body anymore. I am all you have.' You were unsure of your feelings for Aegon for a while.

But now you know for sure that you love him more than anything. You love him more than being alive. You break into tears. 'No...' You croak out, your voice breaking.

He sighs annoyed by your dramatics. He hugs you softly and plays with your hair. 'Shh.' He mutters in your ear.

You can't help but turn to Aemond for support. 'I loved him so much. Despite it all. I love him.' You confess crying. You seek comfort in his arms; you want to be held.

A harsh pain on your head forces you away from him. He glares at you and you realise you made a mistake. 'Ow...' You tear up again. You feel the spot that burns. He hit you.

You lower your head so he can't see the tears that fall. 'Enough of that. I do not like hearing that. Do you understand?'He barks raising his voice.

You are quick to nod and cower. 'Y-yes.'

He crosses his arms. You used to like it if they got a little rough, but this hurts you. 'Yes who?' He demands.

You angrily wipe away a few tears. You understand he wants to break you. You can't break what is already broken. And you are broken in every way. 'Yes, Aemond.' You spit out angrily. He grins at your fire and you know he is turned on by tour defiance as well.

He thinks clicking his tongue before touching your legs. 'No, that won't do anymore.' He says calmly. 'Yes, my love.' You are taken back by his request.

You thought he was too masculine for requests like that. You also thought his ...his desire came from lust. Not like Aegon's, what was clearly love. You understand at that moment that he wants you like his brother once did. He loves you.

You feel guilty. He probably thinks that with Aegon gone, you will answer his feelings. That you will finally pick him. But you can't. Your heart is too good to deceive him like that. To play him. 'I am not in love with you.' You confess. 'I do not think I ever will be.'

There is another smirk playing on his lips. You are grabbed by your hair and dragged to him. You end up on top of him and in tears. You feel his warm breath on your lips. 'For a girl so clever, you really act stupid. Aegon won't be feeding you. I will. I will cloth you, feed you, and if you ever like to see daylight again, you best do what I want.' You are terrified of that description. You'll never feel the warm sun again. You'll never see your home again. You'll never read a book again or see another person if he has a say in it. And if he wishes to, he will force you to have and birth his children in this very brick.

You break down. 'Now, like a proper pet this time.' You feel him gently touch the spot where he hit you earlier. You try to be strong. You lose your battle against the tears.

You push yourself to anwser. 'W-what do you want, my love?'

There is a brief silence before he chuckles delighted and leaves a soft kiss on your lips. 'Your pretty mouth must be tired. I bet I can help you shut up for a while. Perhaps keep you occupied as well.'

He wants to be pleased. You eye his crotch. 'Yes, clever girl. You figured that out quick. On your knees and open wide.' You are pushed on the stone ground and forces between his knees. You watch as he strips himself and forces your mouth open and closes it when his cock hangs in your mouth. You gently ease it in deeper. He chuckles. 'I remember the first time we did this. You never had done it before, yet you were a natural. Aegon joked that you were meant for this.'

That hurts you. You slow it down, not nearly as eager to get this over with. You lose your passion and your motivation. 'It's as if you are dead already, little bee. Do you need a few moments on my knee first? You do like it when I get a little rough.'

You roll your tongue over his length eagerly licking him and tasting him properly. You ignore the taste of it and welcome him much deeper and softly slow it down to soft teasing movements. He groans when rolling his hips against your mouth fucking it. Your hands are grabbed and forced on your back.

You realise that this is all you have left. You will do this until you die. You miss Aegon. Your heart bleeds. But you must keep aemond happy.

You realise that. He is all you will have. And if you are not careful, he will go away too. You quickly grab hold of his hands and force them around your neck so he can hold you. He relaxes with a twisted grin as a tear rolls down your cheeks. 'So sad, little bee. I know you are hurting right now, but you make me feel so good. I think you might even have a little reward if you keep this up.' You like the sound of that. You like his gentle touch on your head. You like the soft pettings. It makes you feel safe and loved.

You are becoming wet. Aemond rips your skirts and pulls down your undergarments, pushing you on the bed. You are pushed on your knees and your legs are spread before he roughly forces himself inside you.

'Nh!' That was a good one. You like that the pleasure slowly numbs your mind.

Aemond groans. 'That's it, girl. Cry and beg for me. Beg and fuck me. I know you want to.'

His grunts and his harsh grip and his smacks. You and your whimpers and soft groans. You are so close. You feel as if you are on the edge. One little push and you'll fall. 'I am nearly there.' 'If you wish to punish; get out now. I do not think I can take it much longer.' Sometimes your pleasure is denied by him. He likes to punish you that way.

He slams inside and takes you deeper when you cry out in pleasure. 'Come, little bee. Come for your new master. Wet my cock with your spoils and let me have your wet juicy cunt.' He growls out loud in your ear. Your eyes close and for a moment he pops up in your head. You see that damn smile.

You come. 'Aegon!' You cry out. The cock does not fuck you anymore. You turn around. You see Aemonds enraged face and you just know you broke his heart into a million little pieces.

You watch as he puts his clothes back on. You grab his arm quickly. 'W-wait! Do not leave me...' You beg.

He chuckles before a single tears rolls down his cheek. He grabs you by the throat. 'I hate you.' He says. That kills you as well.

You beg him to stay. 'Aemond please...' You think of your mother, your father of everyone that you lost. You do not want to be alone.

You beg him, clutching his ankle when he coldly gets up from the bed. Sobs escape your throat. 'Do not leave me too.' You beg him. 'Please...I'll be good. I will do what you ask. Please.' You even attempt to get him out of his clothes again but he smacks your hands away. You feel as if your fingers are burned.

He makes his way to the door and slams the door behind him. He takes out a familiar key and locks the door. 'I do not want to be alone!' You scream before whimpering.

He looks at you with a scoff. 'Your father is dead, your mother is dead, your sister is dead. And your brothers are soon to be dead too. You are exactly that what you fear. You are alone.' He leans in. 'I think that some solitude will help make you realise how important I am to you. I want your love. I told you that before. I do not care, how I will get it. I will get it eventually.'

You hug your knees. The next time you look up from them, he is gone.