#(gets yanked off stage by a long cane)

[ge]

every time i remember tangchung were going to travel across china together and live with each other after the war i feel like ive been flashbanged...

[rolandkaros]

frantically doing the math to see what karo needs to do to qualify for the wta finals..................

[lilas]

.

[foulbearobservation]

I just think,,, Camila running full sprint at Lilith and jumping into her arms and Lilith has to take a few steps back to avoid falling but she's not abt to let Camila go and they're like just gently swaying and Lilith has her head tucked into Camila's neck and they're in love and—

[krumbaphant]

i have got to go ghost

[anxiously-sidequesting]

15,562,500..............................

Fifteen million five-hundred sixty-two thousand five-hundred...........................

Math side of Wizard101 Tumblr I want to know how many possible name combinations for your Wizard there are in the game as of right now after the new names dropped. I actually don't really expect someone to do this but this is something I've wondered about because I spent literally over an hour trying to rename ONE ASS PERSON (my main) and I STILL came up with something basic

[tired-biscuit]

general!kiba’s surprise when you initiate sex for the first time. watching him train that day had you thinking all sorts of thoughts about him, his speed, the way he moved so effortlessly. so gracefully. the way he manhandled his troops when they were sparring. has him growing desperately hard when you sit on his lap and whine about how bad you want him when you go to your room for the night. let’s you fuck him. which is an entirely new experience. let’s you set the pace as you bounce up and down on his- *gets yanked off stage by comically large cane*

- 🐀

BRING LITTLE MOUSEY ANON ONTO THE STAGE, BRING THEM BACK RIGHT NOW!!

18+ fem!reader / royalty AU

series masterlist

he tries so hard to let you have control.

but goddammit, it's hard. it's really fucking hard to just watch you ride his cock and hold you by the hips so that you can try and take him better, deeper, and simply do... nothing.

he watches your face as you straddle his lap and hold the tightest grip he's ever felt from you on his shoulders. he's reclining in the armchair that's positioned in one corner of your shared bedroom; the one that's big enough for you to sink your knees in now that you're riding him, and that he sometimes just plops on to people watch whilst they tend to their chores in the courtyard below.

feeling how soft the cushioning is underneath him as you slowly bounce up and down, kiba thinks it's borderline bizarre. he still isn't quite used to owning a house this big and with so many riches stored inside it, even less to having a literal princess, blue blood coursing her veins and everything, sitting on his dick.

but he certainly won't complain about it.

no, the pay is too good to grumble about, even if he has to risk his life to acquire it from time to time. the expensive furniture, limitless supply of food and drink and comfort are all worth it, too. so he watches in silence. continues to sit in his brand new armchair like he's a king lounging on his throne, despite the fact that that's what your father's job is supposed to be.

and as for the king's daughter, well... the general just finds you adorable. the pace he's let you decide on is slow; careful. he wants to go faster, to take you in the usual fashion he prefers, which is in a much rougher way than this. wishes to ravage you until there'd be nothing left of you and he'd simply pass out from exhaustion right after and wake up in the morning feeling like his soul isn't stuck inside his body quite right. but alas, he can see that you're struggling, so he remains dormant.

and it's evident, your struggle. you've only taken a little more than half of his length and sweat already covers your brow in a layer so thick that it makes your skin gleam. one sleeve of your nightgown hangs loosely off of your shoulder, revealing your collarbone, which he's since littered with small bruises and bite marks, as well as the curve of your breast.

there are plenty of them, the love bites, because you've been at it for a long while. he's never been a patient man, but the moon that now sits high in the starry sky and drapes you both in its gentle light, can serve as his witness that he's still letting you do your thing.

though, his patience has pretty much run out by now.

because god, you're still so tight even after all this time; almost unbearably so. he knows it's because of the fact you're overthinking this entire thing, but the way your pussy squeezes him whenever he pushes into you by another inch makes him want to bare his teeth to the world and growl like an animal. to lift his hips and ram himself into you until you'd be so full of him that your little hole wouldn't even be able to leak a single droplet of his cum.

but he can't cum yet. silvery strings of your arousal and the saliva he's spat between you to make the job easier for you, now bridge the narrow gap between your bodies the moment your clit finally kisses the tuft of dark hair below his waist. he looks down at the contact and sure enough; there's a prominent ring of milky slick around the base of his cock when your hips stutter and you try to go back.

it's a small victory you've just achieved, albeit terribly short-lived for his taste, he thinks.

he supposes he understands the reason as to why; it's only been a short while since he's taken your virginity, after all. your most intimate parts are still sensitive, and the deep angle the position provides, as well as the way his thick cockhead now strokes some inner part of you that feels soft and awfully tender - too tender - proves to be something that greatly overwhelms you.

he holds you in it, however, the position. with his hands still on your hips, his grip suddenly turns tenacious and his knuckles flash stark white as he fights against you to keep you exactly where you are. it seems like he's done playing your game.

"hold still," he says, his voice slightly breathless but firmly gruff. it's the same assertive tone he uses when he's talking to his soldiers.

and it's also the same tone he spoke in whilst he'd been on the training grounds earlier today; shirtless, golden skin dewy from sweat, body moving effortlessly despite its great size. his jaw had been set, and you definitely noticed a rather intense look flare up in his dark eyes when he'd spotted you watching. even his presence alone had become more intimidating in mere seconds.

perhaps it had been because of the focus, or the pesky need to impress that tends to gnaw on him as of late. nevertheless, he looked just about ready to crush the skull of the unlucky rookie who'd had the balls to take him on either way.

and lucky him, it seems that he did actually manage to impress you by the end of the sparring session, because you're here now; doing this. you've offered yourself to him by taking charge right after you'd kissed him passionately by stepping onto your tippy-toes and pulling him in close. until he was groaning into your sweet mouth and grabbing greedy handfuls of your ass right over the nightgown.

you couldn't help yourself. something about the way he looked so graceful whilst fighting and teaching the younger men had lit some wicked urge inside you which you just couldn't ignore from how ceaselessly it kept clawing at the walls of your mind. the way he fights is like a dance, despite that he's made it clear to you that he won't and never will spin you around the ballroom of your father's castle.

he's just so-

you mewl, your body squirming as if trying to get away from him when he lifts his hips up to test out your newly-updated limits and abruptly breaks your train of thought. a pout forms as you say, "th-that hurts."

"it'll pass," he tries to console you coarsely. his throat feels like it's on fire, god you just feel so good. "just... ah, just give it a moment."

your whining fills the room in an instant at the way he brushes you off, and it grows louder by the second. his eyes want to roll into the back of his head from the sensation of being entirely inside you at long last. meanwhile, your own want to nearly pop out of your fucking sockets because of the overbearing fullness he makes you endure.

minutes pass; long minutes spent by panting and exchanging messy kisses. you listen to his request as you stay still and try to cockwarm him, as he calls it. he's deep in your belly, throbbing and growing even bigger, hotter. it makes your pulse skyrocket, especially when he readjusts on the armchair and eases his grip.

the tip of his nose bumps against your chin as he makes you tip your head back so that he can kiss your throat. his tongue is warm as he licks the sweat off your skin. the amount of salt that he tastes now only makes him feel guilty for straining your body to its limits like this.

"ride it," he urges you softly. unlike before, his voice is a mere coo now. "when you're ready."

"how?" you ask, swallowing hard. you sink your nails into his shoulders again as if readying yourself for the ache, but when you roll your hips to test it out, it's almost gone.

"however you want," he mumbles, smiling faintly at the little gasp you let out when you repeat the same movement for a second time. his face is nearly buried in your tits from how closely you cling onto him. he could die as a happy man like this, truly. "just fuck yourself on my cock until you cum... i am at your disposal."

heat sears your face because of his lewd language and the way he offers himself to you so freely. you doubt you'll ever get used to it, but it's nice to know that you've got the big bad war general wrapped around your finger. "...but i don't know how."

he chuckles at your sudden timidness. "i'll help you."

and just like that, his hands guide you to a slow, sensual rhythm again. up and down, up and down, up and down - you're taking him entirely this time. pride washes over you despite the loud squelching noises the wetness that you emit now causes, especially when he grunts out a quiet, "good girl... good lil' princess."

and when his thumb circles your clit, it's like heaven opens up just to swallow you whole.

[sos-smp-headcanons]

mythicalswamp move over its swampjuice time

not a hc but Owen said mogswamp is his pookie. do with this what you will

What can Owen say. Thats his special little guy, his favorite wet mop of a man, his- [Gets yanked off the stage with a comically long cane]

[lightwarriorinc]

/post/190330484060 "the post-canon AU I’ve made in my head in which they fight some more and work out their differences and Fighter gets help and BM actually tries to be a better person [...] and ughhhhh I could go on for days" (slides you a $20) please go on for days

(pockets the $20) BOY HOWDY HERE WE GO

Firstly I need you to imagine me getting pulled back into 8BT like a guy getting yanked off a stage with a cane by this ask ok

Secondly...ah. My boys. Here we go

(Probably needless to say for how old 8BT is but spoilers for the whole thing below)

This is one of many post-canon AUs that I have. So 8BT is cyclical right? Just like FF1 it ends where it begins. And none of the (main) characters really grow or change over the course, and that's part of what drive the comedy home, the subversion not only of typical fantasy-RPG-genre characters, plots, and tropes, but the outright aversion of the usual narrative expectations. Characters usually have an arc, but the LWs only tease arcs (see: the couple times BM starts to imply that he' gonna turn good, Thief continuing to steal after he has no real reason too, etc.).

But what if they did have arcs tho.

The Temple of Fiend Revisited kinda fucks Fighter up. For the first time, he's without Black Mage for a long time, and everything's going to shit, and he even ends up having to face BM in battle and gets killed by him. He gets revived by Sarda but still. Dude's frequently breaking reality with how upset he is.

After the LWs run off to try to take credit for saving the world, and that ends up not happening thanks to WM making sure the DWs get all the credit, the LWs are kinda like. Well. We're done. See ya

Thief goes to prepare to rule Elfland. RM runs off to go start his last members of secret sects club or whatever. BM tries to get away from Fighter again but Fighter's just like wait what. No. Get back here

But still...something is off for Fighter. He's fine! They made it out alive and intact! He's with his best buddy again! He should be fine! But BM crossed a line with killing WM, even if it was by accident. And he started killing the other LWs too. And for some reason even though his friend is the nicest and sweetest guy in the whole world Fighter can't get that pain and those images out of his head. BM notices that Fighter seems a bit off, but he brushes it off. It's always something with that guy.

But Fighter starts noticing how callous and mean BM is being with everyone they run into. The rose-colored glasses start to lose their tint. And more and more Fighter's speaking up with "shouldn't we help that guy?" or "was nuking that entire orphanage really necessary?" And BM gets fed up with him and is like LOOK. THE OTHERS ARE GONE. WE DO THINGS MY WAY NOW AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT YOU CAN LEAVE.

And Fighter goes Fine. And leaves.

And it's the hardest and most painful decision of his life. But he wants to be a Hero, and he can't do that when BM's constantly undoing all his good deeds. Even if he's not really smart enough to connect all the dots, he at least knows now that he's better off alone.

But BM? BM is not better off alone. At first he's ecstatic, he never thought he'd be rid of Fighter and his shenanigans, but he is! He's finally alone! He can nuke all the orphanages he wants! He can be the evil, brooding, villainous wizard he was always meant to be without having to worry about his idiot meat shield giving away all their money or accepting some stupid 'save the world' quest or throwing cereal all over the kitchen floor or whatever!

He promptly goes out to his first solo fight and gets beaten to a pulp.

Yeah...he stuck with Fighter in the first place because he needed a meat shield. In the end, he's just a squishy wizard who misses most of his attacks. But that's okay! He doesn't need Fighter, he just has to change tactics! Be sneaky and deliberate and gain some experience with the weaker enemies in Corneria before he gets back into the swing of things!

Jump cut to BM sitting in the rain like a sad puppy missing Fighter for much more than his damage soaking. He misses sharing a tent with him, he misses watching him cut down enemies in battle, he misses his warmth and talking comics with him and listening to insane sword-themed rants and his cooking (Fighter was gonna give up the blade to be a short order cook, you can't tell me he doesn't cook for the team) and his impromptu hugs and how he seemed to care for him despite the cruelty of the rest of the world and why did he leave?!?!?! WHY?!?!?

So cue both of them getting help. And they both get help from the same person.

Fighter goes to the White Mages' Guild because they heal people who are hurt and he's hurt. And maybe he can pick up another magical companion! He ends up running into WM and they chat a bit, and WM's happy that Fighter got out of his abusive friendship, and she gives Fighter a bit of advice about moving on, but Fighter can't find another companion there and he ends up sulking away to try to throw himself into his heroism.

And BM ends up running into WM as well, and she braces herself for another round of dealing with him but he's just oddly quiet and talks about how he's totally not missing Fighter, and she's like 'good, and you better stay away from him because he deserves someone who's a lot nicer to him and who will support him in his efforts to improve the world and not a mean, stinky little jerk like you', and BM just suddenly gets something in his eye and runs away. And WM checks the Guild for mold and carbon monoxide leaks because there's no way that just happened.

But that's the kick in the pants that BM needs. Of course Fighter left him! He thought BM was nice until he realized he wasn't and then he left. So was their friendship just a result of Fighter's overbearing stupidity? Is BM just better off pretending like none of this ever happened?

Or is there a chance that he could get Fighter back...?

By being...k...kh...kuh-iii....kuhhhiiinnnd??? Ugh. He just threw up a little bit.

In the next couple weeks, BM just happens to bump into Fighter a couple times. And Fighter jut kinda tries to brush him off, and BM is like...trying to be nice in the only way he can. Which is, he's trying to imitate Fighter.

"Yeah uh...I was thinking...maybe it is, like, a good thing that...the world exists. Maybe I shouldn't have learned all those apocalypse spells. Maybe I should've put my time into, like...I dunno. Feeding the poor or whatever. Or like. Volunteering. Yeah. There's gotta be some use for a dark wizard down at the community garden or something."

And Fighter's like. Huh. What

And eventually...he figures he's gotta give BM a chance. That's what he does. He's a good person deep down, and if his former best buddy has really turned over a new leaf, then he wants to encourage that! So he keeps an eye on BM, and watches as BM slowly starts to build a repertoire of being nice.

He watches BM go to pop some kid's balloon, hesitate, and then turn away. He watches BM stand still for a really long time at a store till before pulling out some extra money and paying for the guy behind them. He watches BM open a spellbook on a hot day and spontaneously teach himself an ice spell to help keep them both cooled off. They start hanging out more and more and they slowly start to get along again.

And then somebody tries to take advantage of their kindness. And BM get PISSED. Chases them away, throws a couple fireballs at them, and spits some nasty words. Wheels around and yells at Fighter, what's the point of being nice if we're just gonna get pushed around by assholes like that all the time?!?!?!

And Fighter just smiles and thanks him for protecting him from that guy, since without people protecting each other like that, there would be no goodness left in the world.

BM is still evil deep down. He doesn't like being nice, doesn't like helping people, doesn't really like the world. And Fighter is still good deep down. But they understand each other a lot better, and they're nice to each other, and they take care of each other. Not many people are happy to see that lovable dork Fighter hanging out with stinky mean little BM again, but it's evident that something about them has changed, and they're happy together.

[let-your-chaos-explode]

I Got You, Babe - Chapter 4

Chapter Summary:

Lady Lesso continues to process her current predicament in stages, from confusion, anger, and fear on to acceptance and having a little bit of fun with her circumstances. As she begins to navigate the limitations of her "curse," she also discovers that some things aren't quite the same. And yet, every new path ultimately leads to the same outcome.

Lady Leonora Lesso clenched her eyes tightly against the melodic birdsong that carried through the open window of her tower. 

“No!” She cried out exasperatedly. “I didn’t fall asleep! What kind of hellish curse is this?!”

Lesso sighed and inspected the flesh of her wrist. Pale, unmarked skin was all to be found. She let her body fall back and flop against her mattress as she looked to the ceiling for answers. 

“Maybe this is a gift.” She spoke aloud. “No consequences for any mistakes…and I have time for me for once. I can do all of the things I’ve always wanted to do!”

Her pep talk was interrupted by a series of knocks against her door. Knock knock knock knock. 

“Rise and shine Professor Dovey! It’s a beautiful morning and I am LATE for the students’ return!” Lesso called before Dovey had the chance. 

She hastily rolled out of bed and stumbled to the door, yanking it open to greet the Dean of Good. A slow, shit-eating grin grew upon her face at Dovey’s open-mouthed surprise and closed fist, still poised to knock. 

“You have ten minutes before our school address.” Dovey finally recovered, snapping her mouth closed with a click. 

Her cheeks darkened fetchingly as her eyes roamed, taking in Lesso’s state of undress. Her eyes lingered on the exposed expanse of Lesso’s long legs. Lesso cocked a hip and leaned casually against the door frame. 

Lesso was not ashamed of her body, despite the modesty of her sharp suits and long coats. She just preferred to maintain a professional appearance while at work. As she stood before Dovey clad only in her satin, button-down, long sleeve shirt and shorts, she was hyper-cognizant of the fact that the other woman had never even seen so much as her ankle. Her grin grew wider. This could be fun. 

“If you want me to be on time, I suggest allowing me the privacy to get changed.” Lesso teased slowly, mirth positively dripping from her words. 

Dovey cleared her throat and shook her head slightly, clearly flustered. She gave an irritated snort and huffed as she marched down the hall, refusing to look back. Lesso didn’t shut the door until the fairy godmother had rounded the corner. 

She was determined to make the best of today. Especially if there would be no lasting effects. She readied herself quickly and nearly sprinted across the bridge to the School for Good. Outside the assembly hall, she caught her breath and fixed her hair. 

“It’s showtime.” She whispered, violently slamming open the doors and striding confidently to the main podium. 

“Are you actually on time?” Dovey asked her incredulously.

“Better to start this semester off on a positive note, don’t you think?” She answered coyly. 

Her sharp eyes followed Dovey’s gaze as her large brown eyes flicked from the column of her throat to the exposed flesh of her forearms, and finally down the lines of her tight, pinstripe pants. Lesso was rather enjoying the way the simple exchange from the morning had left the other woman unnerved, and she was glad she had changed her outfit and foregone the long coat. 

Lesso cracked her cane loudly against the podium a few times and put a glowing, purple finger to her larynx, amplifying the volume. 

“Attention future good and evil!” She called over the drone of inane chatter and silence descended upon the hall. 

“Welcome back, welcome back! I hope everyone had the chance to enjoy a restful break away from classes. Today will be an easy day of reorientation. Regularly scheduled classes will resume after breakfast. Please refer back to the schedules that were distributed before break.” 

Dovey looked to her once more, and Lesso couldn’t help the curious tilt of her head. While the core of the message was the same, Dovey’s delivery was distinctly different from the previous trials. 

“Lady Lesso?” Dovey prompted. 

Lesso shook herself out of her thoughts and added, “If you lack personal responsibility, schedules are in the main halls and in your dormitories. Use your eyes, since I can’t be certain any of you were blessed with brains.”

Dovey muffled a bark of laughter into her palm and cleared her throat. “Have a wonderful first day back! You are dismissed!” 

Lesso hustled out the door without a backwards glance. She had somewhere to be. 

At the junction of the main hall, she hid herself in a darkened alcove and waited. At precisely 27 seconds past 8:52 AM, Emma Anemone turned the corner. With a quick flick of Lesso’s finger, a jet of violet crashed into her back, sending her stumbling slightly forward with a yelp. Black ink spread like tentacles from its mark and started to envelop the hideous hues of her formerly pristine dress. 

Lady Lesso did not wait for Anemone’s reaction and, instead, briskly continued her walk to the library. If she skipped breakfast, that would leave her with three hours of solitude for her own enjoyment before the staff meeting. Anemone’s angered shrieks followed her down the hall and gave her a pep to her step. 

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

Lesso had settled down with a stack of books. Her curious nature had led her up and down the seemingly endless rows filled top to bottom with books. She had steadfastly avoided the section on fiction and fairy-tales…having had more than enough of her fill during her aching childhood and subsequent personal experiences with many of the main characters. Still, she knew most of the stories by heart. 

Instead, she had gathered a miscellaneous collection of non-fiction works: art history, cookbooks, Italian for beginners, how to play the cello…

Lesso took her hoard to a secluded alcove she had never noticed before in the back of the library. A small, circular table separated a pair of overstuffed armchairs under a stained glass window. It was welcoming and rather cozy. She couldn’t have been settled for more than twenty minutes before a quiet voice broke through her concentration. 

“I don’t mean to intrude. It’s just, I’ve never seen you here before.”

Lesso tore her eyes from the pages and met the inquisitive stare of Clarissa Dovey. The Fairy Godmother had settled into the opposite chair and looked as if she had been there for a time. 

“How long have you been sitting there?” Lesso questioned incredulously. 

A mischievous smile tugged at the corner of Dovey’s painted lips. “About five or so minutes. You were very engrossed in… How to Waltz: Steps With Confidence, Style, and Ease .”

A delicate brow arched in question and Lesso couldn’t contain the flush that crept up her neck. She slammed the book shut and surreptitiously scooted her stack behind her good leg under the chair. 

“You could have just asked! I would be more than happy to teach you.” Dovey clapped excitedly. 

“Perhaps another time…” Lesso coughed. “Why are you here?”

“Oh! I come here often. I find the library to be a perfect place to get a moment of peace before diving head-first into our duties. And there’s rarely a student to be found! Other than the occasional reader, of course.”

“Often?” She questioned. 

“You’re sitting in my chair, actually.” 

“Finders keepers.” Lesso shot back with a shrug of her shoulders. 

Dovey pulled a golden pocket watch from one of the many folds in her dress and sighed at the time. 

“The staff meeting is set to begin. Would you like to walk with me? You might actually be on time for once.” 

“Or…” Lesso stood, leaning heavily against her cane at the change in position. “You could be late for once and see that the world, in fact, keeps on turning.”

Dovey rolled her eyes good naturedly and set off for the staff room. Lesso followed steadily a few paces behind with a contented smile fighting her usual frown. She refused to fight the chaotic glee at seeing the heads turn as they entered the room together. 

Lady Lesso fell heavily into her usual chair and met the questioning eyes of Emma Anemone. A slow, predatory grin overtook the smile on her face. 

“I like what you’ve done to your dress.” She remarked casually. 

Anemone’s eyes narrowed into suspicious slits. “Do you enjoy pain?” 

“Excuse me? I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about!” 

“I know it was you, Red. The way I see it, is that you must enjoy the havoc you wreak. Why else would you do it, knowing it’s only going to come back at you in some shape or form?” The historian seethed, drawing the attention of the rest of the staff. 

Lesso’s eyes flickered briefly to the others before scoffing mockingly. 

“How sad that little girl inside must be!” Anemone continued. “I remember when you got here, Red. You’re just the same now as you have always been. And some day, you might realize that all the time you have spent making everyone else around feel low, is because that is what you feel! And maybe then you’ll realize that not once has it done anything to make you any better than any other Never who has walked through this school. Maybe, one day, you’ll figure out that there are some of us here that have simply been trying to accompany you along the way. Lest you become as alone and irrelevant as you always reared you would be.”

Lesso’s cane clattered to the stone floor as she launched to her feet and slammed her hands against the table. “Listen here, you airheaded…”

“ENOUGH!” 

Dovey’s hand pushed down roughly against Lesso’s shoulder, forcing her back into her seat. She bit her lip hard to stem any remaining words from raging out of her mouth but complied with the demand. The beat of silence that followed was suffocating. 

“There are other, more important things we are here to discuss than the trivial nit-picking between the two of you.” Dovey hissed as she rounded the corner to her seat, pinning the both of them with a rather harsh glare. 

Silence continued to fill the hall, filled only by the scuffle of shoes against stone, creaking of wood chairs, and uncomfortable coughs. 

“Are there any pressing matters that need to be discussed today? I suddenly find myself longing for a cup of tea before morning classes.” Dovey addressed the room. 

Compared to the chaos of the previous loops, not a single hand was raised. Lesso studied the subdued quiet of the room with an astonished expression. The difference was off-putting. 

“Okayyyyy…” She drew out. “I guess I’ll just do it myself!”

Lesso pointed a silver painted nail at Yuba. 

The gnome dumbly looked around before pointing a finger at himself. “Me?”

“Talk.”

“I don’t…” He stumbled.

“Yuba can’t figure out how to get the students to collaborate effectively. I believe Espada is a misogynistic narcissist who doesn’t know how to adapt his teaching methods to fit each student individually. And Anemone wants to overhaul the curriculum to teach sex education and manners.” 

The beauty teacher opened her mouth to respond but was quickly silenced with the snarled “No!” that came from Lesso’s clenched teeth. 

“Well…that was insightful. ” Dovey said slowly. “Anybody have any suggestions on how to address these, uh, weaknesses?”

Lesso leaned over to whisper in Dovey’s ear. “I bet you a fiver that Beauty Teacher volunteers me for her class.”

Dovey’s quirked lip and short nod was the only indication she had even heard Lesso’s proposition. 

“I think Lady Lesso would be an excellent choice to help in keeping the students under control for the health and education course.” Anemone offered. 

Dovey gaped at her in open disbelief, even as she elbowed the Dean of Evil to cease her cackling. 

“Hell no, I won’t teach the course.” Lesso continued, wiping an errant tear from her eye as she composed herself. 

“Any other suggestions?” Dovey called. 

At the answering silence, the Dean of Good sighed and offered the table a tight smile. 

“I think I’ll sit in on Professor Espada’s class. I might be able to offer some tips on teaching strategies for my Never boys. ” Lesso offered with uncharacteristic altruism. 

“Thank you, Lady Lesso, but I don’t need a babysitter. And I am fully capable of teaching my class myself. I have been doing so for many years.” Espada cut in harshly. 

“Suit yourself.” Lesso sneered. 

“Professor, a fresh set of eyes could only help, not hurt.” Dovey argued gently. “And I think I would like to join as well.”

Both Espada and Lesso turned to her with equal expressions of surprise. 

“Meeting adjourned!” The Ever called cheerily, ignoring the dual stares.  

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

Lesso sat at her desk very much lost in thought. The students in her first period Potions and Poisons class sat diligently studying the texts they found on their desks. The hesitant raising of a small hand broke her attention. 

“Yes?” She answered with obvious irritation. 

The hand fell back quickly to the desk with a muttered, “Nevermind.”

Lesso leaned back into her chair and groaned loudly in frustration. 

“Why are we even here? You can read just as well in your dorms as you can in this godforsaken room. Leave! Before I change my mind.” 

The students hesitated at the command and looked at each other in confusion. 

“I said get out!” She shouted.

Chairs scraped against the floor as the students scrambled to leave. Lesso sighed as the heavy closing of the door echoed in the empty classroom. The familiar headache began to pulse between her eyes. Was this to be a recurring curse as well? She pinched the bridge of her nose tightly, temporarily relieving the incessant pressure. 

The bells of the clock tower chimed noon and Lesso idled for a moment. Did she dare try another attempt at a sociable lunch? It felt like she had already uttered too many syllables on the day, and it had just turned afternoon. Her stomach growled loudly as if to argue with her for even thinking of skipping both breakfast and lunch. She cringed, however, as she thought of the lackluster lunch that awaited her in the dining hall. The cookbooks, she decided, would take priority. Nevertheless, she dragged herself across the bridge and made a beeline for the vacant chair she had occupied on the previous try. To her surprise, Dovey was noticeably absent. A small frown pulled at her lips as her eyes quickly scanned the hall. 

“Looking for someone?” 

“Assessing for threats.” Lesso drawled boredly. 

Anemone leaned across the vacant chair between them with entirely too much interest. 

“Rightly so. I would watch my every step if I dared to pull one over on the person likely most-versed in the history of magic.” 

Lesso’s sharp gaze cut across to eye Anemone from her periphery. 

“Good afternoon Lady Lesso…Emma!” Dovey said brightly as she settled in the chair between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all Clarissa!” Anemone placated with an affectionately placed hand on Dovey’s arm. 

Lesso’s eyes followed the movement and her hands clenched at her side. She suppressed the flare of irrational rage and began to fill her plate with the disappointing lunch offerings. 

“You provided some very helpful information today at the meeting. How did you know?” Dovey asked as she shuffled the food around on her plate with a grimace. 

Lesso hummed noncommittally and shrugged her shoulders. 

Dovey cleared her throat at the stall in conversation and returned her gaze to her tasteless meal. 

“Well, this is awkward.” Emma stated quite clearly from the safety on the other side of Dovey. 

Lesso would have kicked her if she could have reached. Instead, she just glared at her plate and choked down a few more bites of rubbery chicken. Suddenly, she slammed down her cutlery, startling the table, and turned fully to Dovey.

“I don’t know how to do this!” She blurted. 

Dovey looked at her nervously. “Do what?”

“Compliments…pleasantness…conversation.” She listed on her fingers, meeting Anemone’s amused stare over Dovey’s shoulder. 

Dovey’s doe-eyes blinked in confusion. “Are you supposed to?”

It was Lesso’s turn to be confused. Hadn’t Anemone said “yesterday” that these were qualities that Dovey looked for? Her penciled eyebrows pinched in the middle. Why did it matter to her what traits Dovey enjoyed? Why did she want to be these things for her? She shook her head slowly and her red curls swept over her eyes. 

“Well, we all have things to work on! Myself, included.” Dovey said chipperly. 

Lesso looked back to her warily. It was nearly the same response as before, and yet entirely different. This time, Lesso didn’t feel like she failed a test. 

“I think I've had quite enough of today’s lunch. It was rather bland, don’t you think?” She continued, pushing away her plate. “Would you like to join me on the walk to Professor Espada’s class? We have some time, but I would be happy for the company.”

Lesso nodded slowly, not quite trusting the turn of events. She placed her napkin over her plate and stood, catching Anemone’s raised eyebrows. As she turned to follow Dovey, a quick crook of her violet finger surreptitiously sawed off a couple of inches from one of the legs on the historian’s chair. The accompanying yelp of surprise as the chair fell off-balance brought a satisfied grin to her face. 

“One of these days, she’s going to get you back.” Dovey hummed knowingly as they walked through the halls. 

They chose a spot high on the hill to settle down. Lady Lesso let her body fall to the ground and leaned back casually on her elbows while she watched Dovey putter about. Eventually, the Dean of Good conjured a delicate looking cushion and sat daintily, arranging her skirts perfectly symmetrical around her. Lesso hid her endeared smile behind a soft cough. 

“Afraid of a little dirt, princess?” She teased. 

“What’s the point in getting dirty when magic exists?” Dovey shot back. 

Lesso tilted her head in begrudging acknowledgement to the argument before her attention was drawn to the clearing below. 

“Double or nothing, a fight breaks out within the first two minutes.” She smirked slyly. 

Dovey, ever the optimistic Ever, tilted her chin in defiance. “I’m sure Professor Espada has everything under control.”

The Fairy Godmother confidently stuck out her hand to shake on the deal. Lesso took her hand and was mildly taken aback at the warm softness of the other woman’s skin. 

“Triple or nothing, Espada doesn’t do anything to stop any hypothetical fights.” 

She tightened her grip minutely and Dovey responded in kind, sealing the deal with a firm shake. 

“You’re on!”

Dovey let loose a gleaming smile that felt more blinding than the afternoon sun. Lesso found she was hesitant to let her hand go. Dovey pulled away slowly and turned toward the gathering group. Lesso, for her part, clenched her now empty hand that was left tingling. 

Right on cue, the brawl began among the young males of the class. A cheshire grin split her face nearly in two at the astonished look that now adorned Dovey’s. And just as before, Professor Espada let it continue. Lesso held out her hand in silent victory and graciously accepted the bills placed into her palm. 

“I think I’ve seen enough.” Dovey sighed in disappointment. 

“Going to intervene?” Lesso asked distractedly as she thumbed through her winnings. 

“Not today. I believe I need some time to think on this before I make any rash decisions.” 

Dovey stood and cleared away her conjured furniture. Her expression was guarded but noticeably stormy. Lesso put her earnings in her pocket and fumbled for something to say. 

“Look, Dovey, he’s out of his depth. And that’s not even taking into consideration that he refuses to teach any of the girls.”

Dovey’s eyes darkened more, if it were even possible. 

“Look, if you think it would help the student’s…I have a double free period. I could start sitting in on the classes and helping to restructure.” Lesso offered quietly, gesturing to the mess down below. 

Dovey looked down at her with genuine surprise. If she were being honest with herself, which she usually wasn’t, Lesso would say the reaction stung a bit. 

“You would do that?”

Lesso looked away, unable to tolerate the scrutiny. “Yes, of course. It could only benefit my Nevers to have some competent instruction.”

She flinched minutely at the harshness of her own response, but that was all she knew. Sharpness was an effective defensive mechanism. She missed the flash of hurt across the Fairy Godmother’s eyes. 

“Yes, well…that would be more than acceptable.” Dovey answered flatly. “Thank you for accompanying me this afternoon. I do have some paperwork I need to complete, so if you’ll excuse me. Have a good afternoon, Lady Lesso.”

Lesso watched her retreating form until she passed through the castle doors before yanking at her hair in frustration. 

Self-sabotage. Every single goddamn time! What was the fucking point?

She snatched up her discarded cane and began her trek back to the bridge. Might as well go back to the library for the remainder of her free periods. After all, there was a stack of books with her name on it. 

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

It had been hours. Truthfully, Lesso had cast away the rest of her day in the library without any notion of the passing of the time. She had poured over book after book on curses and theories of time travel and come up short, once again. It was certain to be a curse. Why else would she be doomed to relive the same damn day with varying paths to the same damn outcomes? 

She would still be teaching the same routine. She would still be spinning her wheels on the monstrosity of unifying the two schools. And she would still be woefully incompetent at whatever interactions she had with Clarissa Dovey. 

She didn’t even know why she wanted to try in that area. Fucking wish fish making her think that she wanted something so clearly unobtainable. Lesso scoffed harshly and slammed her open book shut, shoving it off the table roughly. 

A Never, falling in love with an Ever…how disgusting. How repulsive. 

And she startled violently.

Nobody had ever said anything about falling in love. 

She launched herself out of the chair and made to leave. Just as she rounded a corner, her shoulder roughly collided with another, sending them crashing to the floor. 

“I thought I might find you here, but that certainly wasn’t the welcome I was expecting.” Dovey groaned from her position on the floor. 

“Storian, Dove! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Lesso offered a hand and helped the woman to her feet. 

“Dove?” Dovey asked with a pretty blush. 

Embarrassment flooded over Lesso and she sputtered, unable to find the words to take it back. 

“I didn’t see you at dinner.” Dovey redirected. 

Grateful for the escape the Dean of Good provided, Lesso shrugged. “Lost track of time, I suppose. I prefer to eat alone, anyway.”

Dovey looked up at her through her lashes with an indecipherable expression. Lesso shifted her weight uncomfortably underneath the stare. 

“Doesn’t that ever make you feel lonely?” She finally asked. 

Lesso grit her teeth against the unsettling repeat of the same conversation. 

“Nothing I’m not used to.” She finally bit out.

“Well, I appreciated your company today. It was…refreshing. If you ever change your mind, there’s always a seat for you next to me.”

Lesso felt her throat constrict against the emotion desperate to escape. She clenched her eyes tight and gave Dovey a curt nod of acceptance. 

“Don’t stay up too late! You’ll regret it in the morning.” Dovey said softly as she turned to leave. 

“I highly doubt it.” Lesso mumbled under her breath. 

“What was that?” She asked as she came to a stop, looking over her shoulder. 

A burning question flared to life in her chest. 

“How do you always find me?” Lesso called back. 

Dovey turned to face her fully, confusion plain in the pinch of her brows. “What do you mean?”

“You just always seem to know where to look…even if I’m somewhere unexpected. The library isn’t my usual hang-out.” Lesso answered, gesturing to the shelves around them. 

The furrow of Dovey’s brows deepened as she seemed to think about it. “I don’t know. I just felt like I would find you here.”

Her eyes brightened and she shrugged, continuing her exit. 

“Goodnight Lesso!” She called over her shoulder. 

“Goodnight, Dove.” Lesso answered. 

The nickname gave the other woman a slight pause, but she continued onward. Lesso knew she must be on her way to the lake for her ritualistic visit to the wish fish. There would be no nightly stroll to the lake for Lesso tonight. There was no more information the enchanted creatures could give her. And she certainly didn’t want to intrude on Dovey’s “consultation,” whatever that meant. 

No, tonight she would skip the lake. She gathered a few of the untouched books in her free arm and began her trek to her personal chambers. Her eyes burned and she was mentally exhausted. Not to mention the fact that she hadn’t had a drop of alcohol all day and she was oh so thirsty. 

Lesso slowly walked the length of the bridge to her chambers underneath the starry sky. Up above, she watched the shooting star arch into the night. 

Maybe tomorrow would be different. 

Maybe, tomorrow, she would get today right.

Previous Chapter - Chapter 3

[romanceyourdemons]

my current fic very rarely gets kudos and almost never gets comments, but the number of hits consistently increases, and it’s unnerving. i feel like i’m performing an old timey vaudeville act to a completely silent crowd. i feel like it’s just a matter of seconds before i get yanked off stage by a comedically long cane so that someone the crowd likes more can be sent on

[hopefullyitsextensivebule]

When The Lake Thawed Out: Chapter 4

Summary: In 1993, a young man goes missing near a lake in his hometown; the town heartbroken and having lost a spark in their lives. Now, after 30 years of unanswered questions, he comes home in one of the most intense heatwaves to ever hit the town of Little Franconia, seeing that things are the same and different. In this tale of discovery and family, watch as Joshua relearns the world around him and adjusts to the nuances of pop culture, technology, and generational rot. Writer’s Whining: Again... I am so sorry for putting this chapter out so late. I got distracted with things, and I kinda of lost my itch. But I'm back now. Warning(s): Angst. Word Count: 2K+ @List: @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @asparrowofthedawn @obetrolncocktails, @fallonfatality, @wetkleenex-gvf, @takenbythemadness, @heatsaboves @joshym, @freyjalw, @gvf23 @basiccortez @alwaysonthemend @losfacedevil @puzzle-gvf @sinsofstardust @glorpa @nessie-glorpa

The sun was a radiant, golden orb hanging high in the sky, its rays reflecting off the crystal clear water of the expansive swimming pool. The atmosphere was filled with the scent of chlorine, the sweet smell of sunscreen, and the faint hum of bees buzzing around the blooming flowers nearby. 

As promised, Sam, Jamie, and their father, Jake, had come to the Wagner household to spend time with Daniel, Mr. Wagner, and his wife, Mrs. Wagner. Sam convinced Jake to come, much to his father's disapproval. However, it was possible since Danny would be at the house. 

Upon arriving, Jake was greeted by a tearful Mr. Wagner. Jake knew it had been a long time coming, to which he had approached his friend and hugged him back. "It's good to see you again, Jacob," Mr. Wagner said, a little choked.

"Likewise, Daniel," he called him, patting his back. He pulled back and looked around at the spacious home. The home looked remodeled, with the smell of plaster at its last stage of drying, some paint, and other instances of a home makeover having been done. "This house… it's different?" 

"Yeah," Mr. Wagner said, sitting on a kitchen stool that made him look like he was sitting on a chair due to his height. Jake tried to do the same, trying to mount the chair, but made him look like a child with his feet dangling off the seat. "We've had this house for such a long time, and we wanted to remodel it and restore it. But then we decided to get with the times and get techy with the appliances."

As Mr. Wagner explained all of the kitchen's features, Jake stared intently at the boys. They were all on the floor, Jamie, Sam, and Daniel playing a board game, at which Sam was winning. He watched with his cane in hand, having some linen set on his person. His hair was pulled back into a bun, some wisps of hair falling from his hairline. He watched his boys get along with Daniel but still felt a bit of dread. 

"Here," said Mr. Wagner, presenting him a drink for the man, "just how you like it."

"Thanks, Dan," he told him, taking his drink to his lips and nodding, "Wow, exactly how I remembered it."

"Yeah," Mr. Wagner continued, "I'm so happy you came today. We missed you guys a lot."

"Yeah… you should be thanking the boys," Jake had joked, "I didn't want to go initially, but Sam kept yanking on my leg about it. Once I knew who was going to be here, I was okay."

"Still. Us old geezers gotta stick together," Mr. Wagner said, patting the man on his back. "Speaking of sticking together, I got an idea I wanna share with you…"

"What's the idea?" Jake asked. Mr. Wagner was to speak on it but had looked at the boys, who had muffled their clamoring of the game board to hear what was being said. "Hey boys, why don't you guys cool off in the pool? Your pop and I need to talk about things." Like children, they hastily got all their things and headed to the pool area.

The three migrated to the pool, Sam, Daniel, and Jake standing at the pool's edge, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The boys dressed in bright swim trunks, their bare feet warm against the sun-baked concrete surrounding the pool. 

"Last one in is a rotten egg!" shouted Sam, breaking into a run. He leaped high into the air, tucking his knees to his chest before cannonballing into the water, causing a great splash that soaked the poolside chairs. 

Daniel, laughing, followed suit, his dive a bit more controlled. The coolness of the water enveloped them, washing away the summer day's heat. They emerged at the surface, grinning at each other before starting a playful water fight, their laughter echoing through the backyard. "Hey! You're forgetting the champion of cannonballing," Jake said, shaking his thumbs as if he were the big deal.

"Oh yeah? This is a first," Sam said, teasing his older brother. Jake had slowly backed away, readying himself for the challenge he set himself up for. He soon ran, leaping into the air. What should have been a graceful cannonball was more of a cat flailing its legs around. The boys had whipped their heads away from the splash that greeted them. Jamie returned for air, looking at his brother and friend for commentary.

"You're kidding, right?" Danny joked, Jamie splashing water violently at him along with Sam. 

Meanwhile, Jake and Mr. Wagner were still amongst each other. They were deep in conversation, their eyes severe but hopeful.

"I don't know," Jake said, Mr. Wagner having proposed the idea of the boys working together at his record store. "Jamie and I aren't always seeing eye to eye, and I don't want Sammy to be alone at the store… he gets overwhelmed."

"I'll have their schedules together so that they won't be separate," Mr. Wagner urged, "Jake, I love you, but you gotta let these boys breathe. Let them be free."

"Mom and Dad gave us all the freedom in the world," Jake started, "and that freedom ruined our way of living."

"Jake… It's been years. You have to let Joshua rest," Mr. Wagner told Jake, his hand on his shoulder.

"That's easy for you to say… You don't have to wake up every day knowing your sibling is dead," Jake told him, his words like venom to the middle-aged man.

"Jake… I've lost people. Lori has lost people. We all lose people," Mr. Wagner explained, "there was nothing you could have done that day."

"YOU DON'T—" Jake looked to see the three boys still preoccupied with one another, "you don't know that," his whisper was harsh, "I was his brother."

"And as his brother, he would have wanted you to live your life filled with joy because that's what he was all about," Mr. Wagner stated, a hand on Jake's shoulder. "This not a way to live."

"Oh, and having nice new appliances and a big pool is what makes life worth living?" Jake jeered, "You knew I was in a bad place when I had my boys; you could have helped me."

"Jacob, I've tried so many times to get in contact with you, try and visit you, send you letters, but you closed yourself from everyone else," Mr. Wagner spoke with assertiveness, "The world moved on, you stayed stuck in the past… and I'm beginning to think you want your kids to stay stuck in the past with you."

Jake looked at Mr. Wagner with shocked eyes, "Excuse me?!"

"You want the boys to live that day with you. They don't deserve to be pulled into that," he said. Mr. Wagner had looked at Jake and spoke, "Look… the kids are adults, and if they want to work at my store, they are more than welcome. Don't let them miss out on this opportunity."

Jake had wanted to say something but held his tongue. Jake had looked casually at the pool and noticed Sam with his head down in his arms, his shoulders jerking. Beside him was Daniel, rubbing his back as if he were comforting him, lips perked to lull him. Jake scanned for Jamie, who had his arms crossed, looking upset. When Jamie looked up to see his father looking at him, he pulled his arm out and gave him a harsh middle finger, and mouthed the words fuck you.

This behavior was acceptable for a teenager but not a 27-year-old.

Jake had rubbed his face and sighed. "Fine… Fine, give them the jobs," Jake said, getting up and going to get his jacket.

"Where are you going?" Mr. Wagner asked, arms up in confusion.

"I'm going back to the house. When the boys are ready to come home, send them my way," Jake said as he soon left the house. 

Mr. Wagner had sighed, rubbing his face. Mrs. Lori Wagner came downstairs with some beach towels, seeing the energy in the room, and placed the towel on the kitchen counter and approached her husband. "I told you he'd still feel this way," she told her husband.

"I know… but he should know that-" Mrs. Wagner had cut him off and cupped his face.

"He'll come around… right now, let's tend to the boys," she said, hand on his chest to steady him as he looked defeated and frustrated. Mr. Wagner nodded, kissing his wife chastely on her lips and rubbing her side. 

After a while, Sam and Jamie were on the poolside, Jamie's stretched over the pool chair, hands behind his head as he tried to relax. Sam sits on the edge with a towel around his shoulders, hair pulled behind his ears, and a pool of water around his feet. Daniel returned to them with two drinks of lemonade for Sam and Jamie. "You know, if you want, you can stay over here," Daniel said, giving the drink to Sam.

"I would love to, but I don't think that'll be a good idea," Sam said, drinking his lemonade.

"Danny, why would you ask? You know how our dad is," Jamie said, sitting up and drinking his lemonade, rushing and emptying the cup. "He's never gonna let up."

"I know… I just wanted to ease the tension," Daniel feeling slightly regretful, Sam having placed a hand on his shoulder.

"We should head back home…" Sam said, "I don't wanna leave our dad by himself," Jamie sighed, cursing and grabbing his towel to dry off. Sam had his face in his hands, the tips of his fingers pressing into his forehead and turning white. Daniel had felt him start to shake, so he pulled Sam close and rubbed his back. 

⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹ ⟹

Jake was on his good knee, trying to fix up an old VCR. He had returned home, the impulse to see Josh urgent. He had wiped the dust off the old VCR. His fingertips were caked with grey matter as Jake started to plug everything in. He had found an old box of tapes, revealed to be home videos of a time before. Turning on the TV and changing the settings, the iconic blue screen greets him. He inserts a home video, thinking of what it would show. It had been ages.

With a start, a much younger version of his mother spoke. "Dammit, Kelly, I told you not to eat those cookies!" Jake laughed at how his mother reacted. The camera panned to a man named Kelly, eyes looking heavy as he enjoyed himself. Another man appeared, getting a cookie from the plate. It was Jake himself, younger, full of life and hopes and dreams. "Jacob!" his mother says, the younger boy laughing, a crumble falling out of his mouth. Jake, in the now, had slightly laughed as his mother gave up and chuckled at the men in her life.

However, seeing his twin brother on the screen grabbed his attention the most. His hair was curly and unkept, a reflection of his wild nature. And his voice echoed through the room, and his infectious laughter filled their ears. His laugh was so contagious that everyone would follow behind, whether the joke was good or not. It was both a comforting and bittersweet moment for him, having been reminded of his time with him. Since that awful day, Jake never thought they would be able to relive those precious moments again. Yet, it felt like he was present with him again, and his heart felt whole again for a fleeting moment. 

But only for a second or so.

The video ended with Josh kissing his older brother on his cheek, Jake yelling out dramatically, and Josh continuing his assault. 

The video stopped.

Jake was now met with his TV's black mirror, seeing himself. He had been crying while watching the videos, unaware of it. He wiped his face and headed to his room, laying down on his bed and having his face on the pillow.

A sob left him.

[insufficiently-advanced]

bug? ice? flying? anger durian shrugs you off

yeah, she picked up a weakness to fighting and doubled up on her fire vulnerability, but that seems like a small price to pay for nine resistances and an immunity

edit: ...i realize you are only talking about starters and not grass broadly. listen i get excited about pokemon please forgive m-- *gets yanked off the stage by a funny long cane*

Honestly people who pick grass type starter pokemon are lunatics like you're already vulnerable to bug, flying, ice, poison and fire just by like. Default. And there's guaranteed bug and flying types in your starting routes in every game. That's fine. This is fine. The world sees your little guy as a walking salad. And if you're playing gold/silver and it's remakes then fuck you and your chikorita because the first two gyms are flying and bug type but whatever i suppose. So you manage to survive this divine sign from the universe you've made a mistake and evolved your little guy, and it's very rare for a grass type to remain only a grass type. Unfortunately, now that you've evolved as a split type it's likely that now you've either made moves that were not very effective to mildly effective.. or opened up a whole new type vulnerability. Grass ground? Now water AND grass type moves pack a decent punch. Grass poison? Sure bugs might not completely devour you, but psychic attacks are going to ruin your day. Arceus looked upon grass types and firmly reminded them they are at the bottom of the foodchain forever and ever amen. Yet people will still pick Bulbasaur. Talk about love man

[foulbearobservation]

i am now thinking of ava the cringefail but also inherently powerful witch. & like, she skimmed two books about witchcraft & then sat listening to librarian bea infodump about the distinction between wizardry, sorcery, witchcraft, and the subschool of neceomancy for three hours.

mostly learned that girls are h o t

bea: right… is that all, um, making sense to you now?

ava like: read you loud and clear bea

& then goes and gets like the most witchy clothes she can meaning A Lot of feathers and random animal bones and a staff with antlers on. for no reason girl cannot do magic on purpose yet.

then going and getting in a fight with the wolf in the woods & after they are having a stand-off in a clearing & it’s like

ava: what the fuck did you just attack me for??

lilith (lying): oh, my bad.

lilith: thought you were a bird.

- 🛸

it's so funny because Bea is actually a-[I am yanked off stage by a comically long cane] but she CANNOT pass up the opportunity to infodump on someone and Ava is HERE and SITTING STILL-ish for once so she might as well try to impress upon her what magic she can 😭😭

but also you're so right like ava dresses like a walmart brand d&d druid and lilith always gives her shit for it I'm obsessed 😭 the first time ava actually casts a spell on purpose is to turn lilith's fur pink and she's INCREDIBLY amused by the fact that it actually WORKED

[chimchimsauce]

XS (IX - Jesus)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

YN would have never thought that gangs would be so formal. She supposes they must be, to make sure no one steps out of line. Still, it's never been something she's thought about until this moment.

Rows and rows of tatted and terrifying men stand in identical black suits, all expressionless in the grand hall the ceremony is taking place in. YN can't even see the back of the crowd. There's no way this can just be the higher-ups in the gang. This has to be everyone.

In the very front of the room, YN stands to the left of her husband. Taehyung is sporting a bright red suit, something so eye-catching that you'd be able to pick him out of the crowd from a mile away. On YN's left, Jungkook and a few other people YN hasn't met yet stand in their own black suits, a single red rose in their breast pockets. It makes YN nervous. Her eyes scan over all the assembled gang members, wondering if any of them are going to try and pull something that could get her killed. Taehyung notices YN's slight squirming and moves to hold her hand, squeezing it. YN gets the message and stops moving, hoping that she hasn't pissed him off too much.

A few feet away from Taehyung, Taehyung's father and his wife stand mirroring YN and Taehyung, the older man beaming with pride.

"I always knew you'd be the perfect heir, Taehyung," his father says quiet enough for just the four of them to hear, "You've always been tough, so much stronger than your brother."

"Brother? Taehyung has a brother?"

Out of the side of YN's eye, she notices the stiffening of one of the men she hasn't had the displeasure of meeting yet. She guesses that he's probably Taehyung's brother. YN looks at him as discreetly as possible. This nameless man does not look a thing like Taehyung. Their body builds, heights, and face shapes are vastly different. But now that YN is looking, she can tell that this man is definitely Taehyung's brother if for no other reason than he looks a lot like Taehyung's father.

He looks over and locks eyes with YN and she gasps slightly in surprise, looking away from him. She doesn't want to make any enemies and she thinks the best possible way to do this is to not have anything to do with anyone. It'll be incredibly lonely, but at least she won't be worrying about getting attached when she eventually finds a way out of this.

Someone must have sent out a signal because the entire room's atmosphere changes. If YN thought it was stiff before, it's stifling now. An elderly man opens the door at the far end of the other room, walking incredibly slowly. It gives YN flashbacks from yesterday's wedding and she's glad that it's not her going down the aisle anymore.

It takes several tense minutes for the suited old man to make it to the front. His face is wrinkled like a pug's, rolls of skin covering his eyes his cheeks drooping. He walks with the assistance of a golden cane he grasps tightly with his liver-spotted hand. The old man struggles to make it up to the stairs and no one moves to help him, even though YN would if she wasn't afraid of the possible consequences.

It makes it after forever and stands between Taehyung and his Father, reaching out to both of them and placing their hands in his own, folding them one on top of each other gently. He stands as still as death, whispering something in what YN believes is Italian but could honestly be Greek for all she knows. He prays for several minutes with his eyes closed and YN is captivated.

She hasn't been here for very long but already she can tell how oddly religious this gang is. There are paintings of Catholic saints all over the walls in this room and a giant marble Jesus statue is behind them.

The irony is not lost on her. YN has never met a man as unholy as Taehyung.

When he's done, the priest slides a ring Taehyung's father is wearing and slides it onto Taehyung's finger. The old man raises Taehyung and his Father's hands above his head before releasing them. Taehyung and his father turn wordlessly and walk to the Jesus statue, dipping their hands into a basin of water in front of it. The old man wobbles towards them and flicks water on Taehyung before reaching into his white robes and pulling out a bottle of ash. He smears it on Taehyung's forehead and then replaces it into his clothing, inching his way down the stairs and slowly exiting the room.

YN allows herself to relax. It's finally over.

"Get ready to hit the deck," Taehyung says, leaning over and pretending to kiss her forehead.

"Wha-" YN starts.

She never gets the chance to finish her sentence. Taehyung drops to the ground and rips YN's ankle towards him, causing her to fall flat on her back. The breath gets knocked out of her when she hits the ground hard. YN doesn't have time to process what's going on as the other men next to her fall just as quickly, all of them as close to the ground as possible.

Looking into the crowd, YN sees why. People wearing red scarves around their heads have barged into the room carrying guns of all shape and size. Men scream as bullets begin to fly overhead, landing in several of the attendees.

"Taehyung?!" YN shrieks, looking back at her husband in terror.

There's a massacre going on.

He doesn't look the least bit bothered, beginning to army crawl deeper onto the stage they're on.

"Crawl unless you wanna die, Spitfire," he says, grinning at her.

A psychopath. Taehyung is a psychopath.

Still, she crawls after him, all of her body aching with every movement. A bullet flies into a marble pillar next to her head and she screams, freezing and putting her arms over her head. It's too much. She doesn't know what to do, frozen in fear.

A hand touches her waist and she whips her head around to look at who it is. It's that driver.

"Come on," he says, "I know you're scared, but we gotta go."

YN looks at him through wet eyes and nods once, determined to get out of this alive. She tries to tune out the gunshots and the yelling as best she can, focusing on crawling after Jungkook's gigantic black shoes. It takes all of her mental strength to move her arms and drag herself across the floor. The driver flanks her directly, shielding her from behind.

Once she's behind the gigantic Jesus statue, YN can see an opened hole in the ground. Jungkook hops down confidently and shaking badly, YN chucks off her heels and slides into the hole, worried that the drop will be too high.

"I got ya, Princess," Jungkook says, grabbing YN's waist and helping her into the darkness. The driver drops down immediately after and closes the latch, closing it and locking it with the mechanism in it.

The small tunnel they're inside of is lit will slights every yard or so. The group waltzes down the path like they haven't just escaped a shooting. YN can barely stand.

"Do you need me to carry you?" Jungkook says patronizingly.

"Fuck off," she hisses.

Ignoring the way she trembles, YN yanks her stupid long dress up as high as she can, walking barefoot. She must look a mess.

"Awe, looks like she can do something for herself," Jungkook sneers, "Taehyung, you really should have picked someone a little smarter."

YN really wants to give him a piece of her mind but right now it's everything she can do not to pass out. She barely got any sleep, her body hurts from everything Taehyung did to her and she hasn't eaten since she was first kidnapped.

"You're such an asshole," is the best she can do.

"She's so pretty though," Taehyung says, causing YN's skin to crawl, "I don't mind her being a little slow."

She hates him. The group falls silent. For several minutes, no one says anything at all.

"Is anyone going to tell me what's going on?!" YN asks, frustrated and terrified.

"Don't ask questions, darling. That's not very becoming for a woman," Taehyung says, turning his head around and smiling at her, "Curiosity killed the cat, you know."

Taehyung waves his hand in the air.

"But don't worry, YN. You'll find out soon enough."

YN doesn't dare press him further. Dread lays heavy in her stomach.

After traveling for quite some time more, Taehyung stops at what looks like just another piece of the hallway, rapping his knuckles against it three times. A secret door swings inwards and Taehyung steps into it, everyone following them.

When YN is inside the room, she sees a few more men with red ties around their heads. They stand with a hostage on his knees, the man's face concealed with a burlap bag.

"Good job, men," Taehyung says.

They bow their heads to him in appreciation.

"Let me see him."

One of the guards pulls the burlap sack off and YN's eyes widen.

Chapter Ten

Tag List

@naajix @nomimits7 @krystle1990 @mayla548

@dorerenjun @veronawrites @nervouskiwi @tatastaetae @naaji @sunshinechim-98 @hopefilledtrash @heystobitbeach @queensavage1245 @kofikats @lilacdreams-00

[sadmonstress]

about 4 years ago now i made an edit of the meme of the guy holding the chunky rat and a few days later i saw somebody else i had never seen before post it and that made me realize man so many people really do see your posts

not only that but they take away parts of it you may not even want them to, it's funny how deeper and meaningful thoughts get overlooked but a funny little image will go on for ages just because of how much easier it is to [gets yanked off-stage by a long cane]

the thing about making a funny image or video on the internet is that once its out there you literally have no control over it. i just saw someone's listing of a "grilled cheese fan" sticker on etsy.