#(things I have been focusing on instead of Current Events)

[castillon02]

Wade was on the couch, shoveling frito pie into his facehole, when Spidey crawled through the window, paused, cocked his head, opened his mouth, and then closed it again. 

Not Spidey’s usual M.O. 

Then Spidey made a lip-zipping motion at him and dropped from the wall to the floor. His shoulders and calves had tightened, and his movements jerked instead of slinked, his body ready to spring into motion. 

Hot. Mildly alarming, but hot. Spidey had sensed something.    

Wade moved over to the front door to secure their exit. Katanas: check. Guns: check. Frito pie: check. He kept eating. 

Spider-Man did a slow three-sixty, peering around the room, and froze with his eyes narrowed in the direction of Wade’s newest purchase: a Deadpool-themed boombox that Wade had found on Etsy. It had arrived just that morning. 

Wade was going to leave such a negative review if it turned out that his boombox was actually a bomb. Not one star—it had a tape deck, a CD player, and an AUX hook-up, and Wade was all about that retro shit—but definitely negative. Maybe two stars; who couldn’t appreciate the pun of a boombox that went boom? 

Spidey advanced on the boombox and ran his fingers over its surface like a snob testing the furniture for dust. Attached to his fingertip on the upswing lay a red square about the thinness of a gum wrapper and the breadth and height of a motherfucking electronic bug. 

“Christ on a pogostick dildo,” Wade muttered, setting his frito pie on the Javelin anti-tank missile launcher that had been delivered along with the boombox. 

He’d used his last bug detector as a bludgeon, and he kept going out to get a new one only to be distracted by one of the Big Apple’s tempting offerings: people to shoot, Spideys to please, tacos to eat, Spideys to please… Actually, maybe it was kind of appropriate that Spidey was the one helping him out here, given that he’d been so distracting. 

And given that… 

Heh. 

His name was Spider-Man. 

And he’d found a—

Found a b—

Wade made desperate crab pinching motions at Spidey. 

Spidey interpreted his hand signals like a boss and crushed the bug into itsy bits between his freakishly strong spider-digits. 

Wade squealed. “Holy exterminator, Spider-Man! You caught an actual-fact bug in your not-so-actual-fact web! Fly swatter, more like spy swatter!” 

“See, this is why I don’t tell people.” Spidey scratched at the back of his neck. 

Wade put his hand to his chest and batted his eyes even though only the bottom half of his face was visible. “Awww, and you told little old me?” It always made Wade’s heart grow three sizes when Spidey showed him one of his spidery secrets.  

Spidey shrugged. “I figured you’d want your ‘Workin’ 9 to 5’ serenades to be private.” 

Wade settled one hand on his cocked hip and put on a country accent. “I ain’t never got no shame over Ms. Parton, Websy.” 

“I was also trying to avoid mentioning the Nickelback.” Spidey gestured at the CD organizer next to the boombox, which was open to Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10. 

Now That’s What I Call Music! Volume 10 had Nickelback’s “How You Remind Me” on it, and after the Britney Spears and JLo songs, Wade had definitely planned on belting out the “I SAID I LOVE YOU AND I SWEAR I STILL DO” and “SCREAM ARE WE HAVING FUN YET?” lines extremely loudly and emotionally, possibly before shooting himself. Not his ideal recording to have in the hands of his enemies. 

“Your sacrifice is appreciated, Spidey.”  

Spidey gave a sloppy salute. 

Wade narrowed his eyes. “Hang on. How do you know which songs are on that CD?” 

“Oh wow, some frito pie! And what’s that? I think my spider senses are tingling…” As he darted towards the window, Spidey webbed Wade’s bowl from the missile launcher to his hand. 

Wade wouldn’t be fast enough to catch him; instead, he lunged for the boombox and frantically inserted the CD. “Don’t think I don’t know what your 2002 jam is!” He mashed the skip button.  

Spidey hovered near the window, about to be hoisted by his own curiosity. “No way,” he said. “There’s twenty songs on that CD. No way you guess right.” 

“Oh, yeah? Well, listen TO THIS!” Wade stopped the disc on song 15. 

A piano melody started to play. 

“Oh my god,” Spidey said. He dropped the bowl onto the counter and his face into his hand.   

“Makin’ my way downtown, walkin’ fast, faces pass, and I’m homebound!” Wade sang along with Vanessa Carlton. He pointed at Spidey and walked over. “Starin’ blankly ahead, blankly ahead, making my way through the crowd…Take it, Spidey! Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—”  

“And I need you!” Spidey stifled a laugh. 

“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh—” Wade shoved the frito pie spoon, microphone-like, into Spidey’s hand. 

“And I miss you!” Spidey sang into the spoon. 

“Dun-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh-nuh— chorus time, go!” 

Spidey leaned into the spoon. “AND NOW I WONNNDER…IF I COULD FALL…INTO THE SKY…” He tilted the spoon at Wade. 

“DO YOU THINK TIME…WOULD PASS ME BY…” 

They sang the rest together: “CAUSE YOU KNOW I’D WALK A THOUSAND MILES IF I COULD JUST SEE YOU…TONIGHT.” 

“Hey,” Wade said after their duet ended. The dulcet sounds of Celine Dion (song number 16) faded into the background, helped by his hand on the volume knob. “Could you check my bedroom for bugs, too?” 

Spidey sighed. “For electronic surveillance, Pool. Don’t get any ideas.” 

Wade crossed his heart (and his fingers behind his back). 

“But,” Spidey said, “even if the rest of the place is clean, maybe we should check the Switch for bugs too. You know. With the very advanced spider technique of playing it.” Spidey fidgeted. 

“Going once, going twice, SOLD, to the Deadpool with the color-coordinated boombox!” Wade mimed banging a gavel. 

Pretty good for a day in which Wade had been considering shooting himself to a Nickelback soundtrack. And Spidey ate all his frito pie, so he didn’t even have to deal with any gross leftovers! 

The next day, Wade did some investigating and posted his Etsy review: This seller attached an electronic monitoring device to the product, BUT someone threatened their family to get them to do it, so, what can you do, ammirite? Took out that trash for you btw, np. The CD player, tape deck, and AUX all work great, the speakers are nice and loud, and the design is chef-kiss. 5 stars for immaculate engineering, 0 stars for being unwilling to sacrifice the lives of your friends and loved ones for a faceless customer with a poop emoji in their username, 5 stars again for being bribed into letting me be a repeat client despite all the bloodstains. Looking forward to the Spider-Man-themed iPod with webby wired earbuds!  

Author's note: for those who don't know what frito pie is, it's basically corn chips with ground beef and cheese (and assorted miscellaneous) on top, kind of like nachos. Regardless of its status as a family dish, it is an absolutely bachelor kind of meal.

[pipermca]

New AO3 Tag Wrangling Policy and the Transformers Fandom

Edit in the event people come back to the original post: Please do not email AO3 about this issue. See their response about this issue!

(This is a long one, folks, but I think it's important.)

A new tag-wrangling policy on AO3 has the potential to create some massive confusion and chaos in the Transformers fanfic community, with regards to fandom tags. There is a Reddit post about it here with a focus on anime fandoms, but I want to give some concrete examples for the Transformers fandom on why we DO NOT WANT this, and why I think it's a horrible idea.

The Problem

Basically, AO3 is looking to get rid of the "All Media Types" fandom tag across the board, either by dismantling them or just not maintaining them. The Transformers - All Media Types tag has been an all-purpose tag that you could select when your story doesn't fall into any one specific continuity. Additionally, all most (see below) TF continuities on AO3 are considered a subtag of the Transformers - All Media Types tag. For example, if you look at the link above for all works in the All Media Types tag, you will see fics that are also tagged ONLY with Transformers: Animated, because it falls under the All Media Types tag.

One exception: With the upcoming Transformers: One movie coming out imminently, there will likely be a big influx of stories tagged with Transformers: One. In fact, there are several already. However, it hasn't been linked to the larger Transformers - All Media Types tag yet. I wasn't worrying about it though, because I know these things can take time.

With information about this new tagging policy, however, I'm now wondering whether it'll EVER get linked to the All Media Types tag. If that happens, and when more continuities are developed in the coming years (since you know Hasbro loves creating new universes) this has the potential to cause massive confusion when looking for stories to read.

Searching for Stories with the New Tagging System

So let's say the All Media Types fandom tag isn't accurate anymore, because it no longer includes ALL of the continuities (such as TF:One). You will need to include ALL the Transformers continuities when browsing for TF fics.

How many tags is that? Well, here are all of the tags currently listed under the Transformers - All Media Types tag:

Note that this doesn't include Transformers: One since it hasn't been categorized yet.

You will potentially have to have 40 or more different fandom tags in your search, just in case the author tagged their story with something you weren't expecting.

This massively decreases the findability of a story.

Tagging with the New System

The email response from the Tag Wrangling group (see the linked Reddit post above) seems to be a bit flip in the response to the user's concern. "...encourages creators to tag with the media they intend."

While I appreciate what they are attempting to do, this policy change feels like a solution in search of a problem, especially in larger fandoms with multiple continuities, versions, and media types that are all cross-pollinated in both canon and fanon. While I'm focusing on Transformers fandom, imagine a creator in the DC comic universe writing a story that incorporates bits and pieces from a dozen different reboots.

For example, let's say that I am writing a fic about Ratchet. I am using the setting of the original G1 episodes, but I also am using the characterization of him as a bit of an old man grump. That characterization originated in the Animated continuity, but I want to incorporate bits of pieces of his other characterizations as well (old friend of Optimus from TFP, Ratchet ran a faction-free clinic like he did in the War for Cybertron series, he's got a Decepticon boyfriend like in IDW1 - or maybe even Cyberverse, etc.)

With this new tagging structure, I might potentially have to tag the story with ALL of those continuities. So instead of just slapping down the "All Media Types" tag (and maybe one other fandom tag that matches the characters as best I can), I'll have to analyze my story and try to figure out how best to tag for the characters I used.

And what if you're doing a completely AU version of the story? For example, a humanformers story, or merformers? Using the All Media Types tag along with a Alternate Universe - Human or Alternate Universe - Mermaid tag worked perfectly, since you weren't writing the story to fit into one specific continuity. But now, that might not be an option.

What To Do??

The first thing I would suggest is to contact AO3 (using the Feedback and Support page) and let them know (nicely) that you think this is a horrible idea. Give them some examples on how you use the All Media Types tag to find stories to read, or to help you tag a story. People outside of the Transformers fandom don't always appreciate how absolutely tangled the continuities can be with each other, and providing examples might help them see why this would be a really messy change.

Readers: Be aware that when you are looking in the All Media Types tag, it will no longer show newer continuities. And if AO3 starts dismantling that tag like they suggested they are doing, be aware that some stories won't show up in that tag like they used to. You can also create and then bookmark a custom search page that includes all 40+ continuities. REALLY annoying, but it's a workaround.

Writers: Until they start dismantling the All Media Types tag, ALWAYS ALWAYS tag your stories using Transformers - All Media Types... Especially for newer continuities. This will be especially important if you are writing a Transformers: One story. Right now, anyone who is only browsing the All Media Types tag will not see a story tagged only with Transformers: One. Make sure you're aware of how tags work and how they can affect the visibility and findability of your story.

Epilogue

Ugh. That's a lot of words for a long-weekend Saturday. And maybe I'm overreacting a tiny bit. But my work involves information architecture, and this change just absolutely baffles me. It's almost as though they want to make it harder to find stories. Considering that AO3 won a Hugo partially because of its fantastic tagging system, this change seems like AO3 is doing its best to shoot itself in the foot.

When you have a square hole, a round hole, and a rectangular hole… Yeah, you DO want each peg to go in the "right" hole. But if all of the pegs fit in the square hole, who cares? You got the job done.

I love you @ao3org, but please reconsider this change... Especially for IPs that are as old and are as varied as Transformers.

[janumun]

A Relentless Conquest (LaDS Sylus - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Words: 10.7k Pairing: Sylus/Reader

Tags: dueling (Sylus fighting), semi-public sex, oral and vaginal sex, Sylus’s brand of manhandling, dry humping, praising, dirty talk, rough sex, wander in wonder AU/historical AU, based in ancient Mongolia, creampie, size difference, mild rich/poor class power dynamics

Summary: What happens when you end up catching the unwanted attentions of a sleazy magistrate on a day out in town? A duel for your honor — or lifelong imprisonment — is what awaits you. That is, until Sylus, leader of the exceedingly notorious Onychinus gang, and a man you dub reluctantly, an old acquaintance, intervenes and offers the immoral magistrate a deal he cannot refuse.

[A fic where Sylus engages in a precarious duel in order to free you from the clutches of a corrupt high official; wins the duel AND the prize at stake, you.]  

Author’s Notes: The things the Wander in Wonder trailer did to me were unspeakable, I had to get started on this fic right away. Another long monstrosity so it took me quite a while to hammer it out smoothly. Some terms used within, to note: *tögrögs is an old Mongolian currency and *Lungtang is the Mongolian city used loosely within this fic’s setting, as per Sylus’s alleged outfit inspiration drawn from the Mongol’s hunting fit in the current event, “Wander in Wonder” . An amazing twitter thread for the rest of the inspirations drawn for the boys’ outfits can be found here. 

Link to Ao3

Perhaps you should’ve considered your course of action through before you’d tossed yourself voluntarily into the metaphorical den of lions. Caleb did always tease you for your often impudent ways, declaring you’d get yourself into hot water someday.   

You didn’t quite think past saving the small, unfortunate child in front, when he’d careened straight into the Magistrate, staining the sickly bone white of his gaudy robes with the treat he’d been brandishing in hand. An action of careless innocence that could’ve saddled the boy with a severe punishment of thrashings at best. And at worst —   

You didn’t even wish to entertain the horrifying notion.   

You whisper a quick note of warning to the trembling child in your arms before he’s nodding his assent, making a clean dash away from the Magistrate and his burly procession of hired cronies. They do not move to stop him; the official’s beady eyes sweeping cursory across his fleeing figure before he focuses upon you once more.   

“Well then, speak up, girl. How do you plan on making up for the crimes of the filthy criminal you just let escape?” He leers at you, sending a frisson of disgust through your veins. “I do not mind much, provided you are able to compensate me in full.” He holds up two thick, swollen fingers. “two thousand tögrögs.” Your stomach revolts in near horror at the exorbitant price he names.   

“Speak, lass, do you possess the means to compensate me?”  

“...Apologies, Sire, I do not.”  

The Magistrate clicks his tongue at you, as if that son of a cur had not already anticipated your answer; your garb alone giving away your status as a mere commoner while he stood, a tall, foolish braggart of a Magistrate, who’d been a constant source of worry amongst the townsfolk as of late. “What a pity. I guess we shall have to make you pay off with what you do have on person, shan’t we?”   

His eyes rove down the length of your body in a manner greasy enough, it has your fingers itching to claw them out of his skull. Thoughts of the consequences of your actions extending to your family after — your grandmother and Caleb — are what stay your hands, firm by your side. You try and maintain that demure grace firm within your body instead.  

“What else are we to do if she cannot pay for what she has cost me, yes?” The Magistrate flourishes his arms wide and turns, towards the crowd that has gathered to watch, setting the stage for his perverse demands. “An eye for an eye, an honor exchanged for honor; that is the Law of our Lungtang, is it not?”  

None of the commonfolk dare to speak against the tyrant’s words, lest they make of themselves a new target to harass. And you do not blame them either, the burden of your reckless actions, yours to bear alone.   

The man trundles forwards on heavy steps; the large, ugly stain left across his robes growing wider in your lowered line of sight before the expanse of his bloated, sweating hand fills your field of vision. The rings around his fingers, nearly engorging the base of them as he curls his hand about your jaw to heave your gaze up towards him.   

The ugly, toad-like sweep of his tongue against the top row of black and gold teeth has a chill skittering down your spine. “You’re rather lovely, you know that?” He croaks in a low, creeping voice.   

You bite harsh into your bottom lip to revolt against the bile that threatens to reflux past your throat and onto the bastard’s face. “What say you become my whore then, dearest? I’d treat you very...” A slimy slip of the hand down the expanse of your body, to settle at your hip. “ well . And if you please me, you could even climb the ranks and become first Mistress, you know?” You judder at the stench of his breath, nearly in your face now. Unable to help the revulsion he inspires in you and you know; the cur in front takes it for a show of abashed innocence, with the way his leer stretches wider across his face.   

“I am far too plain and discourteous for a man of your stature, my lord. If there is anything else I could do for you in recompense, I would be more than delighted to offer my services.” The words uttered, sit sickly sweet on your tongue. “I have a good arm on me and can do any physical labor you may require of me.”   

The rat makes a show of deliberating your words. “It’s a pity the only ‘physical labor’ I require of you lies within my bed, dear girl.”   

You visibly recoil from his revolting touch at your arm; perhaps you aren’t able to quite keep your emotions from surfacing upon your face this time round as the man grabs at your forearm tighter, gaze darkening in simmering displeasure.   

“You know the law, woman. If you wish to run scot-free without offering anything in return, you must put your life on the line and agree to a duel with the offended party.” He chucks a thick, swollen thumb back at his minions, voice seething into a threatening octave. “And I wouldn’t suggest that unless you want them to crush that pretty face of yours.”  

You consider ending it all; cutting the bastard open for him to choke in a pool of his own gurgling blood. You think you could do it too, before his bodyguards could get to you.  

And with the loss of their Master, they wouldn’t be able to hold you prisoner within the dungeons for too long: you hoped. The stray, wild thought is all you can see within your vision.   

Your hand twitches for the dagger fastened right beneath your satchel, one Caleb had lent you for protection. Fingers barely grazing against the polished hilt of the blade, cobbling together courage to see your mad plan through.   

Before large, thick digits are slipping against yours to halt — a fleeting touch of caution — from behind, fracturing your hasty plan entirely.  

You’re barely able to comprehend the sudden, unnoticed proximity of your interloper, before a great arm is coiling fast about the expanse of your waist, snatching you swift from the Magistrate’s claws and firm against a warm, broad chest.  

“Now, what have you gotten yourself into this time?” The well-known burr, welcome, in that moment stirs joy within your belly as you reach to crane your neck to meet eyes with that familiar scarlet.  

“Sylus.” You croak in near disbelief.   

He exhales, low, against the shell of your ear, before he slowly lets go of you. “I’m away from Lungtang for a mere fortnight, only to find you scrounging for trouble, upon return.”   

Your irritation might’ve flared at his words if not for the phlegmy clearing of the Magistrate’s throat in front.   

“And who do you think you are to touch my property so carelessly, insolent fool?”  

Your ire directed from the man behind to the bastard in front. You feel Sylus’ hand soothe a flex about your shoulder.   

“My bad, honoured Magistrate.” He sweeps an insouciant palm at him, the grin upon his face edged to a dagger’s point. “We did not think you would be gracing Lungtang so soon with your noble presence. Or we might’ve arranged for a far better reception, for your Grace.”  

Each word that slips past Sylus’ lips is a sarcasm heavy barb that turns the official’s face in front purple with each syllable uttered. “That woman owes me, you dog. I shall make her my mistress, as is only fair I extract proper recompense from her for her grave offense.”  

One of the Magistrate’s men behind scamper forward in that moment to whisper urgently into his ear. The official’s eyes nearly burst out of his sockets at whatever he’s learned, wide toady gaze skittering towards Sylus as if he is indeed a rabid beast that would bite if disturbed.   

He thrusts an accusatory finger at him. “You are the Onychinus’ leader.” He spits. “That gang of lawless hounds.”  

Sylus’s mouth quirk into a vicious smile at the allegation. “That I am.”   

“You— you,” The Magistrate seems to sputter for the space of several moments before the man at his side mutters something else into his ear.   

The official straightens at whatever he’s heard, clearing his throat, once. Twice. “I am willing to pardon your crimes.” He begins once more. “Provided you can prove yourself worthy in a duel against one of my men.” The crowd around you breaks into quiet murmurs. “But,” he continues. “if you lose, Onychinus dog, then along with your little woman, you shall give up your life to my service, your autonomous tyranny within these lands shall cease to exist and you shall follow my sole command.” He pauses for a moment’s breath, as if to let the weight of what he believes to have been a devastating challenge, sink in.   

But all he earns from Sylus is a raised brow. “Sounds like a deal. Let us raise the stakes, though, shall we?” He cocks his head at the procession of guards right behind the Magistrate. “I’ll take on all your men, not just your best. Give you a real crutch to get started with.”   

The crowd of onlookers erupts into gasps of surprise and gibbering discussion amidst the concerning blue coloring the Magistrate’s face at the taunt. You desperately clutch at Sylus’s arm. “Hey! What do you think you’re doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”  

He meets your wide-eyed panicked gaze with a cool, gentle one of his own. “Calm yourself down, kitten. I’ll be fine.” A large hand, he places gentle at your head in reassurance but all it does instead is send your alarm flaring higher.   

What had you roped the man into? Infuriating though he was. Sylus was a confounding acquaintance of years; you could not help be lured into irritation any time he were around — a man whose companionship you’d come to cherish in begrudging gratitude over your time together — but this is not what you’d wanted.   

Your reeling thoughts fractured by the screeching Magistrate in front. “You think you’re all that, you shameless scoundrel? Oh, you’re just a man and I’ll make sure they break your limbs, bone by excruciating bone, before we drag you bloodied and defeated, to my estate.” He spits the time of the duel to be held tomorrow in that same fury before he’s turning on you both and trudging back off to where he came from, his procession of cronies falling along right in line.   

And you’re left behind, with the metallic poison of your regret within your mouth and bone deep worry within your body as you stare up at Sylus’s form.   

The next day arrives much too soon, even as sleep evades you through the entirety of your night, spent tossing onto much too warm sheets.   

Now, having dragged yourself to dress and prepare yourself for the dreaded day, you trudge out of your home, chancing a brief, longing look upon the humble place over your shoulder, in case it were truly your last.   

You hadn’t divulged the details of your itinerary for the day — which possibly entailed getting sold into slavery to a sleazy official, by the time noon rolled in — to Grandmother or Caleb and you preferred it remain that way for as long as possible. Your Grandmother was coming along in her years, with weakened nerves now and Caleb tended to be a frightful worrywart in matters concerning you.   

“Someone’s starting the day rather early. That eager to see me fight, are you, kitten?” The familiar voice beckons. You toss a raised brow over your shoulder at your previously truant neighbour, now returned — his house having settled long vacant in his absence, over the course of his journey to Gods knew where. And the root cause of all your fretting; Sylus moves to join you by your side in two easy strides.  

“Don’t you even dare try joke about it, you absolute madman,” you mutter darkly under your breath, reaching to knock a fist against the side of his torso.   

The same old routine you tumble into, with him; you aren’t able to tamp yourself back from biting into the man as soon as he’s in your sights; the only person capable of wrenching out your honest, most reflexive reactions. And you hate the ease with which this incendiary of a man manages to drag them out of you.   

“What took over you to throw that offer out at that bastard, when you all but had a nice, even playing field to yourself? Now you’re just—” Your mouth snaps shut against the rest of your words, bitterly swallowed.   

How did you even begin to disentangle your bunched feelings on the matter? You knew how all of Lungtang chanted the tales of the fearsome Onychinus head. A conundrum of a man with a reputation as daunting as his influential mien, one that never failed to instil the fear of God in lesser men; criminals and bandits, who sought to rob their small town on the rare luckless occasion — dubbed this obscure town’s own Warrior God.   

But to you, he was also just Sylus; the man you’d grown in close proximity to since your late teenage years and a person you’d grown to care for in the natural course of your odd tug-and-push relationship.   

And though you remained constantly wary of the type of people Sylus associated with, in his particular line of work — a job you did not wish for, to bring even a modicum of harm onto your family by association with him, you could not help the restless agitation that needled at you each time Sylus left home, sometimes for weeks on end, on any number of his covert expeditions.  

And each time he did, the very nagging, unwelcome thought intruded, that perhaps this time he might not make it home.   

“Are you worried for me right now, kitten?” Sylus’s airy query breaks through your reverie, your gaze leaping to find his, fixated firm on you. Those scarlet eyes seem to lose part of their mirth at the face you’re sure you’re pulling.   

You tear your gaze away first, choosing to watch the path you two trek on, instead. “Of course, I’m worried. What a silly thing to ask.” A muted wisp of words.   

Ones that spark an immediate stroke of mild discomfiture at the admission; you prattle on before he can speak. “I know you’re strong, I know that. But just you against what — 13 or 14 grown men? More if that bastard intends on killing you. Anyone with half a wit and eye can see it’s a self-slaughtering mission from yards away. I don’t understand—” your indignant voice breaks, to throttle in much needed air into breath parched lungs. “I just don’t understand why you’d do that. I don’t understand you.”    

Help me figure out what you’re thinking; are the words you wish to speak but your voice refuses to assist.  

Sylus hums a low, throaty sound; in admission that he’s heard you.   

And then he opens his mouth to speak. Divulging a ‘reason’ that makes no sense to your muddled mind, simple though his words are. “That cad disrespected you.” Garnet tips your way to meet your surprised gaze. “That’s reason enough, is it not?”   

“I—”  

“Don’t fret anymore.” he continues. “I won't lose, you have my word.” Long, tapered digits brush gentle at your temple, in reassurance of your worries. “And once I’m done with that weasel, he won’t ever be capable of crawling within a mile of you, let alone dare a finger your way again.”   

The confession, sudden and honest, spurts warmth within your chest that readily clambers up your cheeks and floods down into your belly. A knot pulled tight within seeming to relax just that bit, in comfort of his words. Truly, he confounds you; this odd, beautiful man.   

You capture his fingers against yours in an insistent hold, halting him in his tracks. “You better keep your promise to me, Sylus,” you speak, meeting his gaze, firm on yours. “Do not forget the prize that’s at stake here. You'll come out of there, victorious. I won’t afford you any other options, you hear me?”   

A pleased grin edges across that beautiful mouth, skewing it wider. He angles forward, so that garnet gaze is level against yours. Flexing the catch of his digits in between yours before he’s sweeping your hand towards his parted mouth in a fleeting brush of lips against your knuckles. “If it is my victory the Lady commands, so it shall be done.” He elaborates, a mild tickled inflection to his thick baritone.   

You disregard his little jibing use of the title for this one instance; his solemn promise you know he’s sealed to you; in the gentle grip of your fingers against his, garnet that refuses to stray until you see the resolve of his vow settle within that gaze too.   

By the time your deliberately protracted journey finds its end at the arena, edging the outskirts of Lungtang, the Magistrate along with his chosen warriors are already there, positioned and waiting by the great stone pillars of the vast grounds.   

The coming fight having attracted the townspeople to turn up in droves to watch the weaselly Magistrate take on their best warrior — hordes of curious eyes you feel boring into the two of you as you make your way towards where the Magistrate awaits.   

“Here you are. Any later and I might’ve started considering you’d fled with your tail in between your legs.” The Magistrate crows out loud. “After all, my men shall soon prove how Lungtang’s criminal they so falsely worship as a hero, is more bark than bite.” The swarm of brutes — big and terrifyingly bulky — he’s brought along, laugh at their Master’s goading.   

Sylus, however, remains unperturbed. “Is that so? I can’t wait to find out,” he responds, scrubbing an insouciant hand through his hair.   

His apathetic response seems to key the Magistrate’s ire even higher, sputtering his rage at him. “Y-You absolute— you imbecile. I will crush you.” Creeping a hand forward for you now, “I’ll hold the girl with me. We might as well quicken ourselves, in preparation for when you inevitably fall and watch me claim my rightful prize.”   

You steel yourself against the touch, palm rising to curb his approach with a polite denial but your companion is swifter; large hand darting forth to curl a harsh fist against the official’s greasy wrist.   

“No.” Sylus speaks, voice a low, lethal burr you haven’t ever heard from him before. “I don’t think you will, Sire.” Whatever it is the foolish Magistrate discerns within your companion’s steady gaze, has him flinching in visible fright at the sight, sweat beading wide across his pale, swollen face.  

He wrenches his wrist from Sylus’s grip, as if scathed just as you angle a curious look up at the Onychinus head; his face an impassive mask — hardly unusual — before it breaks into the tiny quirk of a self-assured grin when he catches you watching.  

The Magistrate yelps in frustration, turning in on a ferocious heel. “D-Do not waste my time any longer than you have.” Barking the rest of his words; he heads toward the makeshift dais he’s had set up for himself at the edge of the ring. “Come onto the fields now so we can commence the match.”  

“Sylus,” you place a hand at his arm to stall. “Duck down for a moment.”   

He raises a careful brow at you and you think he’s going to refuse for a moment but then he surprises you in the wordless, compliant drop of his head close to yours. Allowing your eyes to trace his features; those familiar scarlet eyes steady against yours, the slope of his broad nose, sweeping into the bow of full, slightly scraped lips.   

You realize you trust this man and what he’s offered you, whole-heartedly. And so, you wish to extend the same sentiment, reaching for the precious beads adorning your neck — an heirloom from your late parents, your most prized possession.   

Plucking it up and over your head in between cautious digits before you reach to place it about his neck instead. Leaving part of your most priceless gift with him, just as you’ve decided to entrust him with both your Fates. “A charm,” you clarify, “for good luck. It has been my most invaluable escort and has kept me safe all these years.”   

Sylus mutely treks delicate fingers across the worn beads of the chain, grasping it in between a loose fist, in acceptance of your faith.  

“Return it to me once you’ve won.” You tell him, rapping a firm fist against the leather guard at his chest.   

Large, warm digits move to curve about yours, gripping your fist against himself. “As if I could turn down such a heartfelt request, sweetheart.” A spirited grin tugs at his features.  “I’ll bring your little treasure back to you in one piece.”   

“Good, I’ll wait for it.” You respond. “Now, go out there and show them the might of our Warrior God.”  

The Magistrate flourishes open an official scrolled document, no doubt detailing the terms of their duel as soon as Sylus shifts to take position within the field, on opposing side of the assembly of his hired goons.   

You move to occupy a place up front, to stand among the vast gathered crowd, observing the proceedings as the Magistrate clutches the scroll up into the air and begins to drone out the conditions of the fight and the prize at stake — your belly stirs in nausea — you . “The duel shall be declared closed when all members of a party have been knocked unconscious; or killed, under the rare, unfortunate circumstance.” His beady eyes rove Sylus’s way. “Any objections?”  

Sylus shrugs the question off entirely in the flex of an arm against his chest, in preparation of the duel. “Let us not waste our time debating inanity now, as you said earlier. Commence the fight.”   

The Magistrate’s face colours a foul purple — you hope he may truly burst — but all he does is spew a cold, curt, “Begin.”  

The arena hurtles into instantaneous chaos, along with the crowd’s rousing cheers and gasps of terrified delight as the Magistrate’s cronies hound Sylus all at once. Your body hunching forward on reflex to watch as the first set of blows streak straight for Sylus’s face but he ducks down with an agility, unusual to a man of his stature.   

He catches two of the oncoming blows against his palms. Jamming his fists tight about their wrists before he contorts them sideways in a dull crackle of bone. The men immediately buckle to their knees in an agony of groans, their peers stepping over their fallen companions after, to grab for their opponent who springs out of their way, as if dancing the men around, with a noose placed about their grappling bodies.  

A sharp jab comes right for Sylus’s side after, the crony tries and lands a hit against his ribs; the latter’s grasp flexing about his arm to break his momentum, wrenching him close into his body. Before Sylus jostles his elbow harsh into the man’s back.   

Two men lunge for Sylus, aiming for his blind spot; your scraped call of warning lost amidst the thunderous din of the crowds as Sylus rounds upon his assailants. Grabbing the man he has on hand, fingers fisting tight into his garb before he hurls him onto the approaching minions, with a force violent enough, the three go bowling straight into the dirt.   

The crowd’s cheer is raucous; wild as the grin that splits wide across Sylus’s face as he stretches his body tall to full length. “Come now, that’s surely not all of what you’ve got for me.” Sweat barely beginning to make itself known across the firm muscled expanse of his arms, his torso. He's hardly out of breath while his opponents gawk at him as if cornered against a rabid beast.   

Your heart thrills in unexpected, startled pleasure to witness the strange, sensuous virility to his almost savage visage as he paces forward on swift, easy steps, within the ring.   

You’d always known Sylus to hold a rich charisma compacted within that strong personality; an ability to entice all he came into contact with. A brilliant, perceptive mind along with that tacit, undeterred will; he’d brought flourishing business booming within Lungtang over his period of unofficial rule of the place. The uncrowned Onychinus King and a fearsome warrior; the first time you’d truly stood witness to what he was capable of, outside of devious negotiations, professional and unalike.   

And to know, it was for you that he stood in that place now, socking down enemies with the streak of a great, terrifying beast that had your heart skittering within your chest and your blood thrumming within your ears, alongside the adrenaline roiling through your veins. He truly was an infuriatingly perfect man.   

You joined your voice to the shouts of encouragement rolling off the townspeople, in waves for their Warrior God just as Sylus brings an opponent down to his knees with a violent sweep of his knee to his torso.   

“Enough!” You hear the squeaked, enraged bellow of the Magistrate as he watches the proceedings with an increasingly incensed face. Whipping his reddening face towards the crowd to shake a threatening fist at them. “Quiet down before I have you all thrown into the dungeons!”   

But the townsfolk refuse to relent; their cheers rising to a deafening roar as the Magistrate nearly tumbles out of his seat to thrust a trembling finger at the ring as Sylus tosses another of his men over his shoulder to taste the ground at his feet . The attendants at his side scamper towards the arena at once. A quick, urgent rush of communication seems to pass in between the attendants and Sylus’s remaining opponents. Before the servants are tossing weapons into the ring, ones the cronies lunge for as soon as they hit the field. Rising slow once more as they brandish their newly obtained unfair advantage at an unarmed Sylus.  

A great wave of shock and indignance passes over the crowd just as you push past the row of onlookers to jostle yourself to the very front. “Hey! This was not among the rules!” You shout at the Magistrate. A sentiment the rest of the crowd joins you in mirroring but all it earns you is an insouciant shrug from the bastard, shedding any remaining responsibility of hosting a fair fight against Sylus. “And the rules didn’t indicate the participants were not allowed the use of tools at their disposal either. The opposing party’s principal should’ve brought his own if he wished for one, as well.”  

“That’s not—” Your voice breaks in agonised distress just as the Magistrate turns away from you entirely to press his rotund body back into the comfort of his seat to watch his laid-out massacre once more. Son of a cur.   

“Sylus!” You try and yell for his attention amongst the horrified cries of the crowd. “ Sylus, you don’t have to fight anymore! Get out of there, now! Sylus . ”  

His gaze sweeps over the mass of spectators for that one split moment, as if foraging for yours. Until it seems to find and fixate upon you, his mouth forming slow shape over words you cannot hear but understand on instinct, “Stay right there.”  

Your heart leaps and slams violent against the back of your breastbone with the crowd’s rising screams, just as a hefty brute lunges for Sylus; a battle axe heaved high above his head to strike a killing blow.   

The first cleave of the blade, Sylus avoids, to the tumbling pummel of your frenzied nerves. The man’s fervent swings, he dodges left and right. Avoiding another enemy’s assault with a dagger aimed straight for his gut; Sylus streaks the side of his palm flat onto his wrist in a hit vicious enough, the knife goes flying out of his grasp to stick, hilt-up, useless onto the ground. Before Sylus pummels a heavy fist into the assailant’s face, plastering him down onto the ground.   

The metallic chains of a flail come streaking for him, just as he side-steps past another heavy swing of the axe, catching the iron fetters of it harsh against his wrist. He ducks close into the enemy, manoeuvring the momentum of his attack into his own advantage, to wrench the man harsh into the fist he rams straight into his gut. Tumbling him sideways into the ground, unconscious.  

The bulldozing axe wielding maniac, now in close proximity, careens straight for Sylus on a fervent bellow, sweeping a blow straight for his head. Sylus seizes his last standing opponent’s assault against the strength of a muscled forearm. Catching the brunt of the axe’s hilt at it before he shoves back on a ferocious, inhuman show of force.   

Sylus, your heart hammers, lips forming shape over the syllables of his name in urgent prayer.   

The momentum of the wide, stone blade pushed back in such violence, sends the wielder staggering back with the weight of it; Sylus turning that precious moment of weakness to his benefit as he lunges straight for his neck, seizing it within a thick fist. The core muscles of his arm, rippling with the force with which Sylus hauls him off his feet entirely to drive the man down onto the ground with a vicious snarl.   

The combatant stops moving immediately, knocked out cold on the dirt; Sylus rising slow onto his feet as he stares at the man, chest heaving with the efforts of his strenuous exertion.   

A grave’s quietude slumps across the gathered crowd for several, tense moments.   

And then shatters into raucous chaos as the Conqueror of the duel is cheered to the high heavens; Sylus’s grin, wide and daunting, as he shifts off his fallen opponent, scrubbing a large hand back through sweat soaked locks as he starts ambling over toward the edge of your side of the arena.   

And your heart — your silly little heart — soars from its place within your chest and out for him, the high of his victory, as if it were your own, throbbing brutal within your blood.   

Before you know or comprehend it, your legs are moving; pushing past the crowds of onlookers, the wooden slates of your sandals skidding at dirt, as you fly across the ring toward Sylus. Your gaze entirely filled with your brilliant warrior’s expression shifting into surprise as you hurtle into him. And Sylus — that big, beautiful man understands — catches your careening body within his embrace; your momentum, he breaks against a half-swivel about his heel. Large, warm arms come tight about your body, wordless, without a question uttered, to seclude you further into that private space; just for you both in that moment.   

Your arms stretching about the thick expanse of his neck as you hold on hard to him; Sylus’s low exhale you feel warm gently, into the crescent of your neck as he sinks into you. The people, his duel; none of it matter when you embrace him this close against you, the adrenaline of your unbound joy, his impressive triumph settling into your thundering heart, you feel pressed against him.   

His soft, heavy laughter curls pleasant into your ears. “To the victor go the spoils, I guess.” He breathes. “Although this treasure seems particularly eager on jumping into my arms herself.”   

“Of course I am.” You press yourself away from him enough to afford yourself a proper survey of his face. “Gods, you were brilliant. Thank you, Sylus.”   

His thumb brushes just beneath your eye; a slow, testing touch. His gaze simmers in unusual, unexpected gentleness that siphons the breath from your lungs. “You need never thank me for anything, sweetheart, let alone this. I do not want it.”   

Your own relief blooming into a smile, but before you can respond; an unpleasant, harsh voice fractures through the air — the Magistrate seething and raging as he makes his way over to you both, an army of guards right behind. Clearly, the man could not stomach a sore loss; rabid fire and venom within his gaze as he trudges toward you, screaming obscenities.   

“Step back for a bit, kitten.” And you obey without further prompting, granting Sylus a wide berth for whatever he plans on doing.   

He doesn’t spare a moment longer before he’s striding forward, snatching one of the Magistrate’s unconscious minions off the ground. Hoisting him high up by the scruff of his neck. The Magistrate’s steps stagger just then at Sylus’s mad display, perhaps sensing the disaster he’s called upon him.   

But it’s far too late. “Here, have a present from all of Lungtang, Sire.” Sylus tows his arm back, wide, and aims — to the scurrying cries of the Magistrate — before he violently hurls the man in hand, right at the waddling official, bowling him and half his guards over like a stack of gambling plaques.   

“Sylus.” You gasp at his insane spectacle.  

Before the corrupt, toppled lot can even think to get their bearings back, Sylus is strolling back toward you; a quick flourish of a large hand thrown over his shoulder, in signal. “Take care of them,” he instructs out loud.   

A swarm of dark clad men melt away, on his sole command, from the crowds, to pack around the Magistrate and his men, blotting their figures entirely out of your sight. “Come on.” Sylus’s voice fractures through your reverie, his frame crowding your field of vision.   

“Whe— aah!” A hefty arm swoops beneath the back of your legs, sending frantic fingers scrabbling for purchase against the strength of Sylus’s shoulders as he hoists you up against his body. “What’re you doing?” 

He flashes a devious grin up at you, completely at odds against the bewildered shock you know is wide across your face. “Time to get out of here, sweetheart,” is all he offers in response before he’s sweeping you away from the pandemonium he’s wrought and the boisterous crowd; discarding all of that well-earned glory behind.   

The throng of on-goers tapers out the farther you get on to the road winding away from the arena; curious and awed looks alike garnered your way: at your position, and at the man — the infamous Onychinus head — who strolls easy through the streets of Lungtang, in possession of the strange woman he carries snug on the crook of an arm.  

A flush creeping hot up your face the longer this spectacle goes on until Sylus’s pace — thank the Gods above — dwindles to a halt. “This should be far enough.”   

“Yes, thank you. Put me down now.” Tapping fraught fingers against his shoulders in emphasis. Sylus raises a sculpted brow at you but relents, nonetheless. He steps past the mouth of the nearest back-street, well clear of people, before he helps you down onto your feet.   

You lean a hand across his arm, taking a moment to scramble your bearings back.   

“The brief walk back has you this out of breath, huh?” You turn a half-hearted frown at his mild ribbing; the man barely having broken a sweat himself, for having carried you all the way down here.   

“I wasn’t the one who asked you to lug me the entire way, you know,” you return.   

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m rather protective of my treasures being made to rot too long among the grime.” He gently pinches your cheek in between thick, tapered digits; voice descending to a softer baritone. “And I won, as promised.” Long, tapered fingers skim heat across the angle of your cheekbone. “So, you’ll give me a pass this once, won’t you?”  

Vivid scarlet flitters in inscrutable emotion to witness you cup careful palms about his own, as he touches you.   

“You also pulled that insane stunt with that sleaze of a magistrate at the end there. I don’t know how you plan on getting out of that one,” you point out, but there is no actual heat to your accusation.  

He exhales a half-laugh. “That’s probably long taken care of.” Stroking the fall of your hair back against your ear. “No one will come after you now.”  

You step closer to him. “You do know I’m capable of worrying about you too, right? I’m not heartless.” His mouth quirks at your peeved admission. “...You’re important to me Sylus.”  

A streak of something akin to surprise fulgurates for a moment’s notice within that garnet gaze, at your confession.   

Your fingers trek a steady path against the painted beads of your necklace dangling at his chest. “Although I do hope you’ll never pull something like this on my behalf, ever again.” He'd brought it back to you, safe and unscathed, just as he’d said — a vow made, he had honoured.   

Relief was still warm within your chest, along with the turbulence of long nursed vexing emotions, brought forth to the surface — for a man you’d known for almost half your life — by the day’s sequence of events. “I don’t think my heart could handle it.” You huff out a soft laugh.   

An inscrutable emotion streaks across Sylus’s face, too quick to pick apart until it retreats entirely once more.   

“Unfortunately for you,” long, tapered digits sweep about yours at his chest, capturing your hand steady within his grip. “that’s not a pledge I can offer you.” His whisper is low, throaty as it settles against you and you realize the sudden proximity of your positions.   

His striking face is all that floods your vision. His gaze flickers from yours, down toward the bow of your parted lips — a remiss on his part, you can tell from how it rolls back swift to catch your eyes once more. If you did not know any better, you might’ve almost thought he meant to lean further and—  

But was it really the mad conjuring of your mind and a reluctantly hopeful heart that wished to see what it thought it did? Or had you been this obtuse on purpose all along?   

Your brow knits in consternation; this far removed from the persistent babbling of voices — your anxieties, the people, his duel, your uncertain fates at the time — and sequestered within the quiet alley; your roiling thoughts are loud and insistent.   

“And why’s that, Sylus?” You ask quietly.  

The skewed pull of his mouth is devastatingly beautiful even in its lack of mirth, this up close. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart. Or are you going to pretend otherwise?” His thumb strokes its gentle path across your knuckles — lighting an incendiary course — your hand still placed firm at his chest. “Whatever your choice, however, know it has always been yours to make.”  

The muted, steady beats of his heart beneath your palm seem to thrum past the sensitive pads of your digits as they skim a line past his pectorals, and up your body, warming it from the inside out.   

You swallow against the surge of a nervous fever that takes you all at once; ploughing past that pluck of anxiety at your chest, to bet your entirety on the one gamble you’re about to make.   

“Come to think of it.” Pink tongue slinks past a mouth parched, to trek a slow path across your bottom lip, end to end; the intolerable burning intensity of Sylus’s scarlet gaze scouring each single motion, sending your light-headedness thrumming higher. “You haven’t truly won yet, have you, Sylus?”   

“What?” He exhales heavily. His breathing has quickened just a snick higher, you notice, underneath your feathering ministrations. You’re fascinated by how he sounds much short of breath in this one instant than he did throughout the entirety of that match. The fact sending a deluge of warm pride and desire threading through your heart.   

“A winner is only one when he has been crowned as such, and received his dues.” You clarify, shifting closer against him.   

Stretching up on the balls of your feet until you’re a mere hair’s breadth from his face. “You however, have yet to claim your prize.” Sweeping forward until your lips are skimming against his in a tentative, testing brush of kiss — your hammering thoughts of uncertainty, of whether he wants this too, swiped clean with the soft, guttural choke of sound that slips past Sylus’s lips at your brazen initiative. And before you can bask under the simmering warmth of what that sound does to you, Sylus is curving a large palm firm within the thread of your locks, wrenching your mouth back against his in a bruising, fervid kiss.  

Eager fingers skitter at the strength of his shoulders to ground yourself against the sudden, pleasurable onslaught just as he captures your waist within the ironed grip of an arm. Almost lifting you up entirely against him until you’re suspended barely at the tips of your toes.   

His grunts are warm against the inside of your mouth as his tongue skims past the easy access of your parted lips to taste you against himself. The wet muscle sliding against yours before he sucks it into his own mouth on an approving groan of desire.   

You're nearly nerveless by the time he parts from you on a wet stretch of sound, barely enough distance, his breath cascades hot against your damp lips with each guttural word, keying you higher. “This is getting a bit too dangerous, kitten. I suggest we stop here if you don’t wish to reach a point of no-return.”  

“No. No,” Your hands flit in fervent frenzy from the stretch of his shoulders to bunch into the thick silver weave of his hair. “We don’t ever need to stop. I want this, I want you, if you do too.” Your mouth descending back against his in the dizzy crush of lips and tongue, Sylus’s groans of pleasure you drink down against your own moan.  

“There hasn’t been a single moment where I haven’t desired you, sweetheart.” He whispers in harsh breaths into the pocket of space you allow him in between your kisses. “You’re the one who said it now. So, brace yourself.”   

A hand you skim down the thick length of his neck, grazing at the base of his hair to support yourself against the large arms that cage your waist to lift until he’s driving you both back against the wall of the narrow alleyway, shrouding you deeper into shadows.   

His kiss of gentle affection skids past the cut of your cheek, so at odds against the fierce brunt of his arousal you feel grinding into your belly. You buck against the touch just as Sylus eases you down, only enough you’re on your feet now; bodies still moulded tight against the shape of each other.   

His mouth continues its work of feathering kisses across the curve of your cheek, down the delicate line of your jaw. His hips stroking against yours in gentle motions, sending the roll of his hard length against your stomach each time he guides you against himself, having you squirm in roiling pleasure, helpless against the insistence of his mouth and pelvis. Meeting his body with yours in the reflexive buck of your hips against his.   

The elongated stretch of your skirt, sending a mild frisson of frustration through your nerves to feel the restriction of your movements against his. Groaning in soft defeat against Sylus’s mouth over yours, just as he cups a large hand about the angle of your pelvis. Caressing past the flare of your behind, rucking up the fabric within a tight fist to slide it, far too slow, up your legs.   

A final brush of temporary farewell he kisses against your drenched lips before he descends, unhurried, down the length of your body; scarlet gaze refusing to relent from yours for even a single measured moment of mercy. A thick palm he traces, appreciative, down the curves of you as he pitches on to his knees.   

Thumb warming its touch against the edge of a knee, your skirts bunched at the hand fastened about your leg as it caresses a slow, sensual path up higher. The glorious sight he is, down on his knees in between the willing split of your legs; undoing in its entirety — you shudder at the devastation he brings upon you when his fingers hone their target upon the cloth of your underwear at your hip. Skating a delicate path against the knot of it before his index slips underneath it to tug undone.   

Wresting your underwear away entirely on his next sharp tug before he sweeps the mortifyingly damp cloth away from your body and under his nose for a long, obscene inhale. “You smell sweet, kitten. So much of this pretty nectar, all for me... I admit I’m more than a little flattered.” The skew of his devious smirk pulls wider at your choked sound of pleasure to witness him swipe your underwear down against his back, and pocket into the satchel at his belt.   

“Sylus,” you reprimand half-heartedly, in distressed urgency.   

“The victor takes it all, does he not? These are my spoils to have now, kitten.” His large palms are back at the skin of your legs, skimming a dizzying, scorching path up the quiver of your thighs. “Just as you are, the treasure I snatched for myself.”  

“Let me indulge in my private feast, quietly now.” He baits in heated whispers, jaw falling open as he disappears in between the heavy folds of your skirt and — Heaven help you — the sound that scrapes raw past your throat to feel the tease of his broad tongue against your drenched slit, is unlike any you’ve ever heard before. The high-pitched squeal you cut off in the hasty wrench of your bottom lip into your mouth, heated desire clouding your swimming vision to tamp down your moans of arousal, lest any passers-by, just a few feet away from your shadowed alcove, spot the indecency of your display.   

Thoughts drifting into emptiness — musing absent at how self-conscious you’d been while Sylus had carried you within his arms all the way out here; fully clothed then. And yet, here you were now, with your skirts bunched high up against your pelvis with that very same man’s wonderful tongue shoved deep inside you.  

The hot pads of Sylus’s index and middle you feel skim against the tight bead of pleasure at your apex, just as the point of his tongue seeps in at your entrance, sending your hips stuttering into his steeled grip, fast at your pelvis.   

You clamp a palm shut tight against your tapering moans, unable to smother them within yourself any longer. The heated plumes of your own breath crowding back against you with each shivered moan Sylus forces out of you.  

His mouth brushes about the length of your folds, the bow of his upper lip bumping gentle at your tight bundle of nerves. Before he closes it within the searing heat of his mouth, sucking at your increasingly swollen flesh.   

Sylus draws at the drenched slick of you like a man intent on devouring you whole, the thought drives your pleasure higher along with the rising euphoria bubbling within your body. A curious thumb parts your inner folds wider to admit the broad of his tongue deep into your slit. Your walls spasming against the breach of it as your hips judder down against the strength of his jaw.  

“You’re close, aren’t you sweetheart? You can keep up a little longer.” His smothered encouragement, the vibrations of his thick voice right against your slit send you tumbling higher upon that precipice of sweet release.   

The added, ruinous excitement of not being able to see him past the abundant frill of your skirts blazes you higher; the sole nervous anticipation of not knowing where he’d touch you next has you gushing on his tongue.   

A low, soft curse you hear spill guttural against your folds, vibrating straight up into your womb, “You’re practically weeping on my tongue, sweetheart. I like that.” Your answering moan you bury into a bite of your sleeve as you fold your arm about your face; a full body quiver long having taken you. You no longer hold control over yourself. “Grind down on my face, relax yourself. Yes, there’s my good girl now.”  

The praise having your walls grip hard at the fingers he’s worked into you now. Propelling them at an indolent, maddening pace into your depths.  

“Sylus,” you pant harshly, mind numbing into a crescendo. “I don’t — hah — can’t — much longer.” Begging for a release so, so close at hand.  

“Then don’t . Let yourself go.” His groans muted against the wet heat of you. “I’ll catch you when you fall.”   

The crook of his middle and ring fingers up into you has you spasming against the intrusive stretch of them. Opening you up deeper; the deft pads of them scrounge up a spot against your frontal walls that has your mouth flying open on a silent scream, head falling back against the unyielding brick of the alley as your fluttering insides clamp down violent against his adroit handling of you. “Right here, is it?” You think you hear his muted whispers spill throaty against the sensitive expanse of your thigh.   

Right at the junction of your hip as Sylus sinks a bite into the pliant flesh just as his thick fingers rub up against that same weak spot inside to have you disintegrating into senselessness right above him.  

You can’t fathom how he’s brought you to such complete devastation in just a few, nimble strokes of his tongue and fingers into you, against you. Never having been dragged this fast or good to the precipice by your own hand, let alone another’s. He’s away each layer of defence, piece by excruciating piece, having worked you open so thoroughly as if he knew your body like his own.  

Truly a man that sought relentless victory even in between the fall of your legs.   

And it is only when that pleasure point is one keyed far too high, with the incessant press of his third finger up into your walls, stretching you open — so incredibly full of just his digits alone — does your body fall. No longer capable of protecting yourself against the battering deluge of a release so consuming, your knees buckle underneath the hefty intensity of his ministrations.   

Sylus’s large hand, you feel warm about your rump, to curve its easy support about it, as he presses his face further into you. Waves upon waves of pleasure, drowning your keening cries against your well-abused bottom lip. A faint frisson of overstimulation stringing you higher to gain enough conscious thought back to catch his low, guttural growl searing harsh at your drenched folds, at the sensation of you gushing all over his tongue.  

You quiver in nerveless arousal to feel the fleeting brush of his kiss farewell against your slit before he rises, slow, onto his feet once more. Your body clenches in on instinctual need to catch sight of his face once more. The slick that glimmers obscenely copious across his mouth and down the strength of his jaw, the untamed, almost bestial intensity to that barely tamped heat within scarlet, as Sylus sweeps a careful thumb against your wetness has you unfurling trembling digits forward to snag around his neck, dragging him down against yourself.  

Consuming the ferocity of his kiss just as eagerly in the tongue you lap at his lips, slipping along the angle of his jaw; moaning softly at the taste of you that clings still to him. Restless fingers steal in between your bodies to reach for the arousal that strains delectable and intimidating against his trousers.  

Flittering your digits about the catch of them as you work them open enough along with the thick fingers that aid you to release him free for your hungry gaze. Your audible gasp of pleasure Sylus captures against the pad of his thumb edging just past the part of your lips.  

He’s incredibly blessed, bigger, girthier than any you’ve ever had before. The prospect of taking that thing inside your body simultaneously terrifies and excites you.  

Your dazed musings Sylus fractures in the cup of your jaw in between firm, gentle digits. “Nervous?”   

“...A bit,” you admit. Adding for good measure, “Nothing I can’t handle, though.”  An expectant hand you move to curve about the breadth of him to make your point — fingers barely able to cup entirely about him.  

Sylus’s laughter is a low, heavy burst of sound. “Don’t worry, kitten.” He reaches down to join his fingers against yours in languidly stroking the length of him. Coasting in close to your ear as he lays a kiss of dark, hoarse promise against it, “I’ll teach you to do more than just handle it.”  

Your pleased moan you throttle against his quick, vehement kiss as Sylus gathers the folds of your skirt up to bunch about your hips. Fitting himself into the space he makes, his arousal glancing hot against your outer labia; feeling him so close to where your body clenches in on tense anticipation.   

He withdraws from you on a wet slip of tongue, seizing your gaze within his. The firm fist he strokes at his length guiding the flared, slick head of him against your folds to lubricate in your wetness, bumping pleasant at your sensitive bead of nerves on each indolent stroke.  

You buck your hips up against his in an impatient scratch of throaty sound. Slipping the head of him so close against your slit, it almost makes you dizzy with need.  

You are not, however, prepared truly for the actual breach of him as he splits you open in pleasure so blinding, it streaks right against your tender bead and up deep into your belly. Sylus’s guttural groans brand hot against the crescent of your neck in overwhelmed desire, a muted swear swallowed into the bite of teeth he presses into it. “Relax yourself a little, kitten, you’ve gone too tight on me.”  

You try, you truly do as you smother past your burning need to scream, for breaths to claw into your lungs; he feels too much, too good all at once, your body incapable of doing much else except accepting the slow propulsion of him deeper into your walls.

He feels almost too much for you to handle, spearing you open so far around him you didn’t even think yourself capable of such a feat. And yet, the copious arousal that slicks in between your bodies, with the voracious clench of your walls around the hard strength of him, sucking him inside, speaks volumes. Of how you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being impaled upon his length.  

“More,” you pant; the slow thrusts of his hips up into yours sending your lashes flittering shut, in overwhelming euphoria and need. “I need more, Sylus.”  

He grunts in acknowledgment, large hands fixing hot fetters of flesh against either side of your pelvis as he thrusts into you, each swollen stroke of his arousal sending him impossibly deep, until you feel it may truly reach your womb.  

Sylus heaves himself closer into you, nearly pinning you against the wall with the sheer strength of his towering body, the heavy pumping of his hips into you, sending euphoria skating through your veins. Intoxicated on feeling the way he moves within you.  

A hand drifts up from your hip to grip at the flare of your waist beneath cloth as Sylus manoeuvres your body to thrust into you at an angle that drives him hard against your swollen spot of pleasure inside.   

Your hands fly in agonized frenzy to clutch at his arms, his shoulders as you grapple with the blinding pleasure he’s carving into your body. His head skews downward to catch the sensitive flesh of your neck in between the bite of restive teeth, a low moan wrenched free of your throat. His mouth strokes down the length of your skin until he teeths at the fastenings of your collar, wrenching violent at the buttons before he scatters them apart. Mouth engulfing the exposed slope of your clavicle in fervid groans.  

Your fingers skitter for purchase into the silver brush of hair at the base of his neck, tugging harsh with his increasingly heavy pace. A low whine clambering past your throat when his grip upon your body tightens once more in purpose, dragging his length to the near tip of him before he rams back into you on a guttural snarl so primal, it has you violently spasming about his thick shaft, your vision blanking in for a moment.  

Sylus’s face is a flood of savage bliss and heated concentration — the sight along with his pleasurably punishing thrusts into your walls — has your heart nearly trying to rip past the bruising beat of it at your breastbone. Hips meeting his in stuttering thrusts as your body bows up, sharp, toward him to chase a height of euphoria so in sight.  

“You’re moaning so loud, kitten.” His throaty chuckle stirs weighty into your belly. “Keep that up and you’ll draw us an audience.” Gnawing weakly at your bottom lip to instinctively tamp your sounds just as Sylus moves to drive into you on a particularly ruinous, deliberate thrust that has your legs buckling entirely underneath you.   

But he’s there to catch you, thick forearms cording about the feeble, trembling plush of your thighs before he hoists you up entirely onto him; his hushed chuckle drifting into guttural laughter. “Why try being quiet on your own when you can just make use what you have at your disposal?” His lips drive against yours in a vehement kiss of teeth and tongue, devouring you, just the way he is in between your legs. You let yourself go at last, moaning unabated into the searing warmth of his mouth, Sylus’s pace turning to near-frenzied rutting, with the sounds he wrenches from your bruised throat.  

He forces you deeper against the wall, spearing you helpless in between the cool stone at your back and the unforgiving intensity of his drilling thrusts pillaging your body. Golden deep pleasure roiling pleasant just beneath your skin, to push at the confines, until you feel like you could float out of it heavenward and never return to the ground.  

Your fevered gaze snags against the painted beads of your gifted charm about his neck, swinging vehement with the force of his propulsions. Drifting absent fingers against the worn orbs of the necklace, mushed mind admiring how truly lovely he looks like this for you; coupled along with that tight knit of concentrated pleasure, it makes you believe he truly is all yours to have. As if he belongs to you, with you.   

That sole, deranged thought sending arousal thrumming within, so blinding, your body quivers into the tight curve of a crescent, pressing hard against his chest, a peak so close, you can feel it stirring vicious into your belly. “You’re all mine to have, aren’t you? My great warrior,” you gasp against his mouth, trembling fingers sweeping for the broad strength of his shoulders as your nails drive in, harsh.

Sylus’s response; groaned heavy against your tongue, without hesitation. “You’ve always had me in my entirety, sweetheart.”  

Your body has wholly given up — a leaden weight — within his grasp, held together only by the strength of Sylus’s arms curving steeled grips about your thighs. Pounding into you with each fervid roll of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs — the profuse flow of your arousal sweltering in between your already burning bodies, the obscene squelch of it each time he withdraws from your walls only to drive back in with savage, terrifying accuracy, rutting himself so good against the spot inside that has you quivering uncontrollably around the length of him.  

Your combined sultry symphony so loud within your ears, drumming along with the thundering of your heart, you’re sure any passers-by crossing the mouth of the alley would be able to hear. Your cotton-fed mind so far gone, however, you’re no longer coherent enough to care about anyone hearing your claims upon each other’s bodies. So deeply entrenched in the sole existence of Sylus: his body, tongue, his bruising grip upon you, you love so much — scoring stinging crescents as your own signs of victory, across the broad strength of his shoulders, down the firm muscle of his arms, serving to drive him only harder into you until he’s knocking half-screams out of your throat. Swallowing them up against the hungry sweep of his tongue.  

Sylus’s thrusts into your body have turned erratic, his guttural moans heating your skin into a blazing furnace. You’re so close to release, you can feel the heavy crest of its deluge approaching — golden and ruinous.  

His grip upon the flare of your hip shifts, pressing you impossibly deeper against him, the new angle driving the length of him against your sensitive bundle of nerves on each hammering thrust. “A-Almost—” Gasping a breathless warning.  

Hurtling you so high; the frenzied pump of his hips into yours, the constant stimulation at your swollen bead sending your walls spasming so violent, you feel Sylus loose a long, guttural groan deep into your mouth. You tumble off the precipice of release just as you feel the first thick spurts of his seed searing fire against your sensitized walls; Sylus’s sultry growls keying your frenzied release so high your fingers scrape across the back of his neck to tug him harsh against your mouth. Sinking your quivering, heated desires into a vehement bite at his chest, Sylus’s digits weaving tight into your hair at the back of your head, to hold you there.  

His thundering pulse you moan against in appreciation, laving absent to soothe the reddening bite at his skin, as your body convulses with the still flowing spurts of his release, stroking at the intoxicating fever of your prolonged orgasm, filling you to the brim and over; the warmth of it you feel drip past your folds and onto his sturdy thighs.  

Taking several, long much needed moments to compose yourself as your sweat-slick face falls, nerveless, to press your cheek against the damp expanse of his chest, body still suspended firm upon the corded strength of his arms, his cock nestled snug and thick within you.  

You claw a much-needed gulp of air past a throat, long sore. “...I fear you may have to carry me here on out, as well, Sylus, because I certainly can’t move an inch right now.”  

His amused chuckle drifts warm against the top of your head. “While joined together just like this?” He teases softly. “You may truly pass out of sheer embarrassment this time if I do, kitten.”  

“Doesn’t matter,” you quip right back, half-hearted, canting a languid gaze up his way. “I think I’ll be long knocked out before any pesky shame kicks in, from how good this — you were.”  

You feel Sylus’s length twitch within your walls at your words, groaning quietly at the growing strain of his arousal, back to half-mast already. Truly, was there a limit to the man’s enduring stores of stamina?  

But perhaps, the real question was of your own insatiable appetite too, when it came to him, as you were only newly discovering — your wrecked body responding in the muted burn of arousal, kindling into slow fire within your belly, clenching weakly at him.  

“Tell you what, sweetheart.” Sylus’s skewed grin tucks against your ear as he nuzzles at your cheek.  “I’ll carry you out of here in my arms, as you wish, without the additional parade of our naked bodies. In return,” A kiss he feathers, against the angle of your cheekbone. “Come home with me.”  He asks of you, softly.

You bury your approval in the nudge of your nose against him, catching his lips against yours in a gentle, chaste kiss, “Sounds like a done deal to me, my handsome warrior.”  

End Notes: Thank you for reading! This was a very fun indulgence and I hope everyone who bagged Sylus’ card enjoyed his soft card story.

Tagging as requested: @samanthagnicole , @catboi-anon , @bitches4lifebro , @beebumbo , @hellinistical , @dangerousluv1 , @webmvie , @Cas-tiel13 , @aria-tempest , @raendarkfaerie , @lamentinee , @unhingedsillygod , @tiredas , @ladyparamount

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

 book 7 chapter 12 part 2 thoughts!

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 12 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 245 to part 268, focusing on Trey and Ace.

We will get Riddle's dream in a future update (scheduled for Feb 7th)!

Please note: this is NOT meant to be a summary or a translation; these are only my initial thoughts on the events that roughly unfold. There may be details overlooked or misunderstood in this post, so PLEASE do not use this as a translation.

The group lands on a tropical island! These are reused assets from the Lost in the Book with Stitch event.

Cater indicates that he's fine from the bumpy ride; he likes the thrill! It reminds him of sky diving. He also shares that he once lived by the sea in Pyroxene/the Shaftlands and that he enjoys board-related activities (snowboarding, surfing, skateboarding, etc.)

IHBASOUFA8TVVAD8FA RIGHT AS THEY'RE TALKINGA BOUT THIS, LEONA INTERRUPTS AND TELLS THE KIDS TO STOP WASTING TIME, THEY GOTTA FIND THE DREAMER 💀 (Can't believe I'm saying this, but I want to shake his hand for reminding everyone to get the fuck back on track instead of standing around talking for several parts in a row...)

They find some footprints in the sand and decide to follow them. Due to the size and shape of the footprints being similar to Deuce's, they think the footprints must be Ace's and will lead them to him.

We bump into Ace (who is wearing his beachwear clothes from the Stitch event), along with dream!Riddle (also in his beachwear) and dream!Trey (who is in his Yasmina silk from the fireworks event). Trey was cooking up BBQ for everyone! afhlbllbaiad THE TWST DEVS ARE REALLY GETTING MILEAGE OUT OF THOSE OLD ASSETS, HUH...

Ace speaks to Deuce, Cater, Grim, and Yuu in a familiar tone, but is shocked to see everyone else. He also mentions dream!Cater leaving to change into swimwear and to take pics by the sparkling sea; it looks like he was dreaming of all of Heartslabyul and Grim + Yuu hanging out here. Apparently, dream!Cater rented a place for them by the beach from Kalim's family.

Ace and dream!Trey explain they're celebrating because Yuu can now freely pass between Twisted Wonderland and their original world. asdbihasiodasqevyf IS THIS SLIGHT SHADE AT THE THEORISTS THAT PROPOSED SOMETHING SIMILAR TO KEEP YUU AS THE MC IN TWST... (Turns out, Ace must have been really wishing for Yuu to not leave their friend group forever www) This seems to be their summer vacation after the first school year.

Cater volunteers himself, Silver, Leona, and Idia to help Trey with making BBQ. This is so they can monitor the darkness while giving the first years a chance to wake Ace. Congrats to Cater for being a little useful in these dreams 🤡

The first years directly confront Ace as he is showing them options for beachwear to change into. However, to everyone’s shock, Ace is in complete denial and brushes it off when his head starts to hurt. He tells they are all being overly negative and it's harshing his vibes! It's vacation time, so why are they trying to ruin things with jokes that are in poor taste? This marks the first major instance of the dreamer resisting the feeling of “waking”.

Sebek intervenes and tries to take charge of the argument. Even with Sebek shouting about all the havoc Malleus's magic is causing... even when Sebek says Malleus's magic will eventually swallow the world, Ace has no problem with it. He claims it's not his problem. Besides, everyone's going to be living happily in dreams, right? And this is the path that Malleus chose for himself, so he should accept the consequences of his actions. What's the issue there? Besides, he doesn't want to cooperate with a person like Sebek who constantly looks down on others and paints all the dreamers as victims in need of saving.

Ace storms out in a fit of anger. Grim starts blaming Sebek for things emotionally escalating. Then Ortho confronts Sebek with this question: if it was not Malleus Draconia behind the current situation, would Sebek really be trying as hard as he is to rectify things? This question shocks Sebek into silence.

Cater and the others show up to check in on us. From our crestfallen expressions, he can tell we failed to wake Ace.

HUHHHHHHHH 😟 Silver suddenly gets super strict with Sebek and scolds him for the trouble his rudeness has caused everyone + their seniors. He says that the people around Sebek have been too lenient with him and thus spoiled him; he needs to reflect on his actions!! Sebek uses a really quiet voice and apologizes to us (but he still uses kisama which is a pompous and rude way to speak to others 😭).

LEONA 💀 He suggests they are wasting too much time trying to wake a small fry like Ace and it may be more efficient to skip him and move onto the next dreams. THE DAD THAT LEFT FOR MILK, FOLKS

… What the fuck. I did not expect Ace’s dream to better my opinion of CATER of all people but lo and behold, it is. Cater agrees with Leona that it may be more efficient to skip Ace’s dream. He and Idia do not need to worry about Ace anymore. This first year is Heartslabyul’s so it’s not their responsibility. Cater walks off and Yuu, Grim, and Deuce chase him. The others follow in a separate group due to the radius for Ace’s dream world not being very large.

Deuce begs Cater to let him try talking to Ace one more time before they give up on him. AND THEN CATER ACTS LIKE THE DAD THAT STEPPED UP because he tells Deuce he never had any intention of abandoning Ace 😭 Deuce, Grim, and Yuu decide to team up with Cater to wake Ace, especially considering they may have to combat darkness this time.

Cater finds Ace by himself and asdbhlabsyod8ysaas8fb uses Split Card to make a bunch of clones to gang up and pummel his junior... "I'll show you this is a dream :))" *PROCEEDS TO BEAT THE CRUD OUT OF ACE* Unfortunately for Cater, dream!Riddle, Trey, Cater, and Deuce show up to put a stop to things. (I want to add it's hilarious that Cater is also in Yasmina silk but Deuce is stuck in his P.E. Uniform asdhbasoyafae)

Ace is tempted by the darkness and mumbles a bunch of stuff about how he doesn't want to do difficult things like fighting Malleus. He says he’s just an ordinary mage and doesn’t even have his UM yet. We're shocked by Ace's cowardly side but Silver points out that darkness being present feeds and amplifies your most negative emotions.

Anyway, Sebek and co. want to barge in to save Ace, but Leona holds them back; they should leave it to Cater.

fuasboyfg8fdasibTHER'S THIS ON e FUNnY MOMENT. Leona says that those that it's easy for the darkness to indulge in the dreamer when they're at their lowest/acting cowardly. Idia voice) Eeeeh, aren't you talking about yourself, Leona-shi... abhlfbioasfoasobifadib LEONA NYOOMS OVER TO IDIA'S TABLET AND COMES CLOSE TO BREAKING IT... Watch yourself, Idia...

WOW CATER 🤯 He blew my mind… Cater reminds us and Ace that when Riddle OB’d, Ace was the one that stepped up to fight even when the battle seemed unwinnable—and it was Cater who wanted to run. He tells Ace he looked so cool back then, but he hasn’t had the chance to thank him for it until now.

ACE LAUGHS AND CRiES

Cater pulls Ace out of the darkness!! He calls to Leona and co. for backup~ (One neat touch here is Ace says one of his battle opener lines: “Okay~ I’ll get this over with fast.”)

Deuce and Grim bonk Ace on the head for giving them a hard time. augwjsjs Ace starts to given’m lip again but Leona tells him to watch how he speaks to upperclassmen OTL

do skwguwuwn AcE CALLS oUT SILVER AnD LILIA foR SPOILING SEBEK… Cater interrupts to remind them to get along + respect their seniors or the red demon Riddle will come for them!

Adeuce are embarrassed about having to shout Dream Form Change. Idia enjoys it. Cater does too; he thinks it’s cute and wants Adeuce to do it again so he can take a video (they refuse to).

Deuce makes a passing comment about how maybe they don’t know Cater as well as they think they do?? The Cater they think they know is obsessed with taking pictures… but maybe he can be reliable too!

Sebek and Ace bicker again as they prepare to dream hop. Once again, Leona comes in clutch by telling them to stfu and for Silver to hurry it along.

They land in front of Heartslabyul dorm in Trey’s dream.

Ace didn’t have an issue with their travel; in fact, he posed when Cater pointed his phone at him!

We tell Ace we’ve basically gotten about 20ish people recruited to our cause already, plus the support of S.T.Y.X.! However, their group is 10 people now (Grim, Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Cater, Silver, Sebek, Idia, Ortho, and Leona), which will make it dangerous to dream hop.

Grim mentions that if he is without Yuu, he won’t count as a student. That’s weird, because earlier in book 7 he mentions moving to the second year even once Yuu has returned home… Maybe this will be formally discussed later??? It sounds slightly contradictory.

They smell butter and follow it to the Heartslabyul kitchen. Cater stops everyone suddenly?? He doesn't think it's wise if all 10 of them cram into the kitchen at once; he will go since it's not odd for a Heartslabyul student to be present in the area. Plus, if things get dicey, he can always use his UM as an excuse or in a combative pinch!

asdhasbyofasd Leona and Idia get dragged along with Cater since they're the oldest. This conveniently allows the others to listen in on the conversation in the kitchen by using the mic built into Idia's tablet. (Idia however is not happy that he gets stuck with the sunny Cater and the grumpy Leona.)

WHOA check out the cakes and other baked goods here???? I don't even like sweets, but this looks tasty.

Cater tells the other two with him that Trey handmakes goodies for unbirthday parties. He has advised in the past that Trey take shortcuts (using commercial goods/already made cakes or box mixes, I presume), but Trey doesn't listen. Cater suspects it's because Trey thinks it's way too fun to bake to give it up, even if it would be faster to use another way.

They overhear people talking and... WHAT THE HECK, CHENYA'S THE HEARTSLABYUL DORM LEADER NOW????? ? ? ?? ??? ? ? ? ?? ? ? He's complimenting Trey's meat pies...

P.S. That chef's outfit looks so good OTL

Ortho casually hacks into the RSA student database to report on who Chenya is (since Silver and Sebek have no clue who he is).

We sort of get an explanation for Cater’s dream??? He says he wished to live comfortably and happily, as if every day was like his birthday. Somehow that got twisted to him being dorm leader…

xhsvhwiwkw The first years are bickering outside… Ace and Grim are fighting to see what’s happening, Sebek is being too loud so Ortho chastises him.

Trey is able to tell the original Cater from the clones??? Bro is Haruhi Fujioka OHSHC… He comments that Cater looks different than usual, so he knew right away.

Riddle seems to be a regular card solider. He tried to challenge Chenya for his dorm leader seat.

Chenya explains Riddle lost to him because his UM doesn’t work on Chenya. He then demonstrates his UM…! (Note: some creative liberties taken while transcribing in order to slap in an Alice in Wonderland quote :3c)

“Most everyone’s mad here. You might’ve already noticed I’m not all there. Not All My Head!”

(More direct translation of the incantation would be, “Everybody's weird here. You've noticed that already, haven't you?”)

It doesn’t just refract the light and make Chenya appear invisible; his body is literally NOT there. This explains why Riddle’s UM doesn’t work Chenya—there is literally nothing there to collar.

cHENYA bULLIES RiDDLE A LIRTKE BY HsRaiNH An EmBaarRsING StORY 😭

Anyway, Riddle has challenged Chenya many times but lost because Chenya is an expert at avoidance. Riddle uses up his magic and burns out easily.

Oooh? Chenya talks about a special language his grandpa taught him. It reminds me of Riddlish from Ever After High.

Trey’s ideal Heartslabyul… it’s one with loose rules, a huge ass kitchen that can be used freely, and a dorm leader that is easygoing. It’s pretty mild and grounded.

Trey asks the third years to sample a prototype lemon jelly and yogurt dessert for him. The only sweetener is honey so eve Cater should be okay with it—and Chenya won’t be mad if someone violates the “dorm leader gets the first bite rule”, even if desserts like jellies are excluded from that rule. Cater agrees but insists that Trey joins them.

dhisbwkwnw Leona has meat pie instead of the lemon dessert. Trey wants to make more to feed his guests and decides to make enough for all of the dorm.

The first years are drooling and jealous that the third years get to eat when they’re supposed to be investigating!

Cater is impressed that Silver had the fortitude to go through so many dreams. He thinks he may have given up a while ago if he were in Silver’s shoes???

Trey says he likes baking because it is satisfying to see the finished product—and others can enjoy it too, so it is killing two birds with one stone. Even Riddle is able to eat as much as he wants now. Apparently Riddle was the close to the same age as Trey’s younger brother at the time (Trey was 9 or 10; Riddle is one year older than the Clover brother). Trey describes Riddle as very mature for his age.

Hmm, interesting… The part of Riddle’s past where his mom caught him eating a strawberry tart remains unchanged.

LMAO the Clovers got scolded for 5 hours by Mrs. Rosehearts… Trey claims he and his family now laugh about the incident. Out group theorizes that this is result of trauma; it’s Trey’s way of coping.

Oh????? Trey says Riddle has changed a lot since he left his parents. Due to Chenya’s encouragement, Riddle now eats as much as he wants. Apparently both he and Chenya see Riddle like a little brother and they love seeing him be able to grow up.

ASGYUGYASNNYFOYADSSD Leona's theories keep being proven wrong in these dreams... He theorizes that Trey might have been angry when he became vice dorm leader, but Cater says that's not the case.

Trey was very excited when Riddle entered NRC; he told the other Heartslabyul students that his childhood acquaintance is joining the school. Although Riddle is quiet, he is talented at magic and Trey hopes they get along well. But then when Riddle enrolled, he was a completely different person than how Trey remembered him. He had developed a short fuse and become very controlling... cutting himself off from his feelings in order to rule. Riddle also acts detached from Trey.

In the flashback we see, Riddle has a heart mark. I guess this is what he had in reality too, not just the dream world.

Anyway, when time came to appoint a vice dorm leader (dorm members vote for them), Trey kind of got handed the job. Cater suggests it was probably tough on Trey to see that Riddle had changed so much; at one point, Riddle even beheaded Trey because the rules do not discriminate. He also suggests that maybe Chenya is in Trey's dream so that both friends can be present to support Riddle.

ajbuasiodyasida CATER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT... He confesses that he's always a spectator and now, seeing this, he wonders if he should have done more or intervened sooner.

UUUUUUH, there's a big BOOM!!???!! heard over Idia's tablet. It sounds like the other group is in trouble! But what are they dealing with...?

... Oh. OH.

THIS IS LITERALLY THE TWST ORB MERCH 😭😭😭😭😭 Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber... and round Cater and Riddle...

uMMMMMMMM I feel like I learned about one of Trey’s secret special interests and I don’t like it one bit 🪦

Riddle is now the tallest second year... bigger than a horse... How is he gonna ride Vorpal?! Ace and the others are in distress, saying that he can't do basketball and Deuce can't do track and field with those round bodies!!

We attempt to fight the massive dream!Heartslabyul boys, but it's useless!! Silver tries to form a barrier, but the dream!boys just roll too fast and knock him over before he can complete the spell! Cater tells Leona to use his UM to help out, but Leona can't because there would be collateral damage if used in an enclosed space.

The dream!boys try to convince Trey to stay in the dream but they start to present information that doesn't make sense. For example, dream!Riddle does not care about nutritional content; he will eat anything if it's something Trey made! Dream!Cater starts to eat a bunch of sweets to demonstrate his willingness to consume what Trey makes for them; ah, but that's not right either because in the real world, Cater doesn't like sweets at all!

Trey is able to wake up on his own...!

Aaaand we got the context for his groovy...? AFBADAVADSPB SO THE CATER AND RIDDLE PICTURED HERE, LOOKING DOWN AT HIM... IT'S THE ROUND ASS ONES AKHLBAFSIYBAFIYVAFOV8YQEOVYPQRWBFUEFABIHFDIB THAT MAKES THIS ILLUSTRATION SO MUCH LESS SERIOUSSSSSSSS

There's a big BOOM!! BHLFBIAFSIYBAFSIBYADFBIADVBLDFS LEONA SANDED SOME OF THE BIG ORBS?? ? ?? ? ? ???? ? ? Bye-bye, round Adeuce...

We rally with Trey and he has an admittedly cool line... "Don't talk with your mouth full. It's poor manners under the law of the Queen of Hearts!"

After the darkness is dispelled, Trey is caught up to speed and expresses he's not sure if a normal mage like him can be of much use against Malleus; why didn't they go for Riddle, who is way more powerful, first? asfhbasyuvfgfyoaodasi Ace has a cute moment where he reminds Trey that it was HIS unique magic that overrode Riddle's and saved his ass. Besides, we need Trey to help out with Riddle. He's Riddle's bestie, right?

HAHAHAHAHAHAFHAFH Sebek quietly says he is indebted to Trey... I just think about how Sebek has said Trey reminds him of his father OTL Ace whines about how Sebek treats him and Trey so differently and Sebek shouts that a third year will actually be HELPFUL, unlike Ace. afbaiuliafiefa GIRLIEPOPS YOUR BICKERING PLEASES ME... continue--

Cater takes a picture of Trey in his chef clothes before he swaps over to his dorm uniform; he wants to show Riddle later! I think Trey also brings along a strawberry tart...? Not sure if it transfers from dream to dream or if I'm misunderstanding the wording there.

Then they all gather around Silver and move on to Riddle's dream! (Leona closes off this section with a banger line about how it's time to get back on the small crowded bus. LMAO)

Alright, so what were my overall thoughts on this update? I definitely feel as though the writers got better at writing the dreams as they continued. The first few felt awkward and stilted, but the more recently ones (Savanaclaw and Heartslabyul) are noticeably smoother, even when kept in the confines of already established patterns.

I really appreciated how often Leona was kept telling everyone to shut up and move on with the story. He sounds so tired, annoyed, and wanting to get to the end of book 7 already. It feels like the devs are speaking to us through Leona bilfiaylasdpasod

I'm a little surprised that Ace didn't get his UM in his dream, but I guess maybe they're saving it for the very end battle? I find it suspicious that he brings up and laments his lack of UM while talking about how he's a "normal" mage that doesn't stand a chance against a big boss like Malleus. This sounds like intentional foreshadowing for that confrontation.

As I expected, Ace had a special interaction with Sebek, much like most of the other first years have. (I've updated my "Sebek and the first years in book 7" analysis post based on this.) Ace capping things off by openly calling out Sebek's flaws helps to bring everything full circle. I was also pretty spot-on about Ace's dream covering Yuu being able to stay in Twisted Wonderland. I'm surprised that they did the "Yuu can go between the two worlds as they like" thing; it's a very convenient idea proposed by many theorists in the fandom in order to maintain having Yuu as the POV character in Twst while also allowing Yuu (the in-universe character) to be able to return to their friends/family back home. More and more... the dreams feel like vague fanfiction addressing some fun fandom theories and ideas.

I found it really fascinating that Trey's dream didn't erase the moment in his life that tore Riddle away from him. I wonder if the trauma is just so deep-rooted that even Malleus's magic couldn't get rid of it...? Or if the event was framed by the magic as something sad that had to happen so he could spoil Riddle and give him a happy life now??? I can also understand an interpretation in which Trey feeds others or does his best to help them out even if he finds it bothersome because some part of him still holds onto that immense guilt he feels for his role in the Tart Incident. And in that sense, it's the dream allowing Trey to indulge others without stop, without moderation--a weakness of his that he was warned about in Vil's Labwear vignettes.

asdlhbasnyurnoabafsi NOT GONNA LIE, TREY'S DREAM IS GOING TO GIVE ME NIGHTMARES. Don't get me wrong, I love how whimsical it is, and how he can just enjoy baking to his heart's content. I also love that we get Chenya's UM name and incantation, as well as more about how it actually works. HOWEVER. The massive spheres that Trey made of his dorm members freak me out 💀 THERE'S SOMETHING SO GROTESQUE ABOUT MASSIVE BODIES WITH SMUSHED TINY FACES ROLLING AROUND TO CRUSH PEOPLE...

The MVP this update was most definitely Cater. I was shocked to see how proactive he was. He took the lead in both Ace and Trey's dreams and we got to see him put his craftiness to some good use. Stepping up for the first years, roping the other third years into helping him, even not hesitating to kick Ace's stubborn ass... I hate to say it, but I could really see Cater's dashing big brother side coming out here 🤡 YES I AM UNFORTUNATELY PREDICTABLE I had to pause reading so many times to go, "Waaaah, Cay-kun is so cool!!" which is not a thought I typically have. I'm also such a big fan of him regretting his past actions (or rather, inaction) and finally FINALLY being able to verbalize some of his deepest and most concealed feelings to other characters. When Cater thanked Ace for what he said back when Riddle overblotted... man, it hit me right in the heart.

Sebek was also pretty bashful this update. I don’t think I’ve heard him being quite so… humbled??? His quiet voice is cute 🥰 Was not expecting Silver to speak sternly to him though. The shouting came put of nowhere??? And it’s not as though you aren’t part of the problem for spoiling him, Silver…

Those are my thoughts for this update! I'll see you in the next one. Riddle's dream, on the 7th...!!

[jazeswhbhaven]

A Christmas Beneath Heaven | React | Days: 1, 2, & 3

Alright ya'll let's see if I can get myself back into the swing of things with this christmas event which has me all over the place so far lmao.

It's funny how the plot is this cold that causes MC to be overly horny because I'm recovering from the flu and all I felt was p a i n and n o s l e e p

I've been liking the format that I've been doing my reacts lately as I think it's a little easier to read? (Ya'll let me know if it is or isn't or no change)

Summary, Screenshots with unhinged reactions, recap and what I think so far

So let's jump in with that!!

What's going AWN?!

We're in Gehenna for Christmas once again, and this time it seems the decor is more traditional to Earth standards instead of what they did in the angel cards.

MC keeps running off somewhere and it's pretty much confusing everyone. There's a point where Leraye and Paimon suspect it's a bathroom issue and Leraye says some crazy stuff like???

Leraye apparently doesn't mind if MC were to go to the bathroom in front of him or fart in front of him and Paimon shuts him up by saying don't reveal your kinks <3 So confirmed Leraye is that boyfriend you can go to the bathroom while he's showering or brushing his teeth. (see screencaps below for receipts)

Well, the matter of the fact is that MC is running off to the bathroom but it's not for that. It's because they literally have to jack off as if they're going through a second puberty (honestly I don't remember being horny in my adolescence at all....I was annoyed by everyone else being horny lmaoooo)

Like we're talkin' there's a scene where they rush off to a bathroom in Hades to touch themselves (in detail) and they can sense Foras is in the bathroom (he is)

MC tries to relieve the issue by visiting different devils, I'm talking like bouncing off to every country to get their mind off it. Eligos, Stolas, Vassago, Morax...it doesn't help at all because they're finding something erotic about them in every way.

MC decides to take it upon themselves to find a sage to help figure out what's wrong with them. And well when we get to who it is??? It's fucking Jjyu in a poorly disguised costume. I cannot make this up like you can tell it's him and it's so funny.

So, facts are his full name is Jjyursei. He only works 9-5 as Belial's voice (does Belial know that? lmao) and he's a part-time sage. Crazy. And he was being so rude as per usual I'm just like....you're the size of a trinket/candy I can flick you across this room.

It's also revealed by Jjyu that MC has been hella touchy, rubbing up on the nobles during battles but it's not like anyone minds it because it helps with "morale" (what kinda bs....LMAO i'm sorry I was expecting them to be focused while fighting) and that seems "normal" but MC swears this is different than before.

So he gives them a thermometer to stuck up their ass, and they are literally losing their mind doing that. They also had to spit in a jar, take off their sock, and Jjyu was smelling the thermometer (W H A T) The results are...their desire is off the charts indicating a "hell christmas cold"

So another cool fact: A devil's first time masturbating generates 100C of heat, first time they have sex it's 200C of heat, MC is currently at 800C (gawd damn, like if that much heat is generated I wonder what keeps MC from burning up having sex unless it's regulated to where it doesn't hurt them)

So Jjyu calls a meeting and all hell is breaking loose lmao. Beel even showed up. (Lucifer did not, probably had something better to do) And after getting glared at and nearly jumped, Jjyu explains that MC has caught the Christmas Cold. Beleth doesn't know what that is (bless him) and Sitri explains that it affects humans much differently, because if it was rampant on Earth it wouldn't just affect sexual desires but other unsavory desires (think: THE PURGE).

Naturally, everyone is trying to figure out what to do to save MC, but there's another matter that gets brought up. Mammon wants to fucking buy the thermometer that was in MC's ass. 💀💀💀💀

Satan is pissed off, saying he's not letting that happen because it's Gehenna property (we know the real reason Satan but it's not like he's lying lol) Levi is upset because he thinks this is interfering with him getting proper context. Beel agrees with Levi and Asmodeus is over here like "oh let's make this a threesome <3"

Asmo. pls.

Belphie oddly is being serious when he wakes up to mention that he's never seen anyone get it. This being true because devils don't repress their desires, but MC has been? (I find that hard to believe based on events...)

(Also some of ya'll may have noticed a pronoun mix up but Satan refers to fem!MC as "that guy") Satan though does bring up that he has to remind MC to give in to their desires, and that's indeed true. We see it happen. So perhaps MC does repress enough for the christmas cold to be that bad.

BUT there's someone else who had it. Solomon himself! He caught it when he first arrived in Hell and it was bad, but it cleared up for him. Beel suddenly orders Bael to go find the devil that treated Solomon and to bring him back (poor Bael)

So now MC is being held in a quaratine room. There's nobles watching them, and apparently MC has been masturbating so much they lost weight. Also, they can't see the nobles through the one-way glass but they can see them....so yeah when MC starts up their self-play the nobles have a front row seat. WHATS CRAZIER is that they start masturbating too????? HELLO??????? (idk to me that's kinda hot not knowing that they're watching)

Also, Sitri being shown to be the favorite....MC is like "I wanna finger his hole" and Sitri is out here about to bust down doors to get in there and Beleth stops him lol (NO LIKE he was literally about to tear things apart to get in that room)

AND now it appears that Bael has found the devil that treated Solomon. WHICHHHHHH we get to see on day 4~

SCREENCAP TIME

They are so damn cute, Paimon likes scritching Ppyong on the belly and I'm like yeahhhh when Juno's around they probs fuckkkkk~

Leraye not beating the allegations of having a bodily function kink....maybe even a fart kink (that's real btw and I've heard of folks making content for it 💀)

First, the bathroom in Hades look nice asf. Second, when I said in detail??? Yeah this is for fem!MC btw even the masturbating descriptions. MC is down bad like?

Yup his freaky ass was there watching lmao. He did say he was always gonna know what MC is doing and I bet he was having a hard time not jacking off

Satan being like-

He hates being interrupted or ignored so I can just hear him being irritated lmao

Eligos the bby~ seeing how he reacts to being touched on his head means he probably gets going by intimate soft touches. He was being so sweet <3 (even though MC was fucking HAVING A NOSEBLEED ALL OVER THE PLACE)

Don't stare at him or he will f i g h t

I find this funny because you can literally just be standing there admiring him and he's like YEAH SQUARE UP. Silly.

Vassago also just staring like ???? I found this funny because he's probably an eater but will we ever find out??? H O P E FU L L Y

Now MC, this was a damn mistake.

Yeah Morax I'mma need you to stick three fingers in and see if you can find that nice spot that makes my brain go brrrrrr. Thank you.

Uh huh....sure. (though I wouldn't mind a little Juno in my life forealllll)

Asmo would have have a field day, I wish they would have went.

Jjyu if you don't get yo-

Okay but same. Barb is rideable

Okay so when do they even have time to do all that? Real talk when the devils are supposed to be fighting 💀💀💀💀💀💀

I can picture the pose, he got that big D energy.

Beel and that nose of his. Don't let him catch you with anything else that has MC's scent on it....we know how he gets

The husband and wife are present <3 Love them.

Mammon be fr right now p l e a s e (wonder how much he'd pay for feet pics or used panties)

Astra's bf's are fighting again <3 (they do this often anyway in their relationship lmao)

Levi don't threaten him with a good time. This also sounds sexual

Asmo being like: sitri you goddamn cockblocking bitch i was trying to get some dick and here you go ruining it

😭🥺

BELETH MY POOKIE

Anddddd we're doneee~

So basically the christmas cold for MC is being very fucking horny to point of masturbating to death so here we go. Sounds like Solomon was just coughing and doing normal shit and then got healed. Levi even brought up that MC isn't the same so that means that Solomon most likely handled this a lot better than MC.

So far this event is hilariously amusing. Like I know folks tend to not like the consistent "MC is down bad" writing but in this instance I'm just finding it entertaining because what do you mean we're sick and masturbating every time we glance at someone? (it reminds me of that one episode of 1000 ways to die where the gf had a disorder where she had multiple orgasms a day just doing regular chores and the guy she was dating got knocked down the stairs during one of her episodes and he died from a broken neck)

ANYWAYS let's see how the other days go from here....I actually had to omit a couple screenshots from my react list but it's f i n e.

Stay tuned~

[kyoshitargaryen]

you might be grounding yourself to this reality when you try to shift

or, why I've stopped trying to shift

hear me out!

I've stopped trying -- operative word there -- to shift. I'm still shifting to my desired realities, but I'm no longer trying to.

I think that some of us in the shifting community, especially those of us who have been trying to shift for multiple years, have started to inadvertently tie shifting to being something in this reality.

Look at it this way; most of us scripted that our devices like our phones or laptops are always fully charged. So, in our DRs, we won't ever have to hook our devices up to a charger. Thus, the act of using a charger is an event that you would experience in your CR only.

It's the same with trying to shift -- we would only have to try to reach our DRs if we were not already actively there. TRYING to shift means we're still in our CR. When you actively try to shift, you are telling your brain that you're not there.

It's commonly agreed that shifting is the act of becoming aware of a separate chosen reality. People who study the Law of Assumption are already familiar with the quote "You are already in Barbados." An equivalent to this would be "you are already in your desired reality."

If you are working towards getting your degree, you obviously do not have that degree yet.

If you are traveling to a destination, you have not already reached that destination.

To become aware of something means that it is something that 1. has already been in existence and 2. you have previously not noticed it or paid attention to it.

So shifting = suddenly turning your attention to something that has already been in existence that you were not already paying attention to.

Let's say you're on a plane, flying to your vacation spot. You probably aren't paying attention to the exact location of where you are globally during the flight, you're likely focused on other things like reading or watching a movie. Your focus on whatever you're entertaining yourself with does not negate the fact that you are currently flying over a certain state or country, you're simply not aware of it. You can choose to look at the live map to see where exactly you are in the world and thus become aware of your physical location. You choose to do this, you don't try. Do you see what I mean?

Shifting is typically a choice we make.

The purpose of methods and routines are to get you ready to shift, to make the choice to be in your DR, not to get you there.

You have to park the car, get off the train, or land the plane to reach your destination. You have to CHOOSE to arrive where you want to go. Of course, you can always keep driving, keep riding the bus or the train or the plane until it reaches the end of its line, but that won't get you where you want to be.

So when you try to shift, you're reaffirming that you haven't shifted yet, that you're not already in your DR.

I hope this makes sense! Stay tuned for a post on what I've been doing to shift instead!

yoshi!!

[myz-wykkyd]

Used my limited graphic design skills to make a chart of all the characters Rosalie has romanced in (almost) every farming sim I've played with her. Lol I'd always wanted to do something like this and I'm pretty happy with the result.

I made a free to use template of it on the right if anyone else wants to show off who they romanced. Feel free to decorate/doo what you like with it- just link back here if you use it so other people can find it o/

Brainrot Below<3

Now, though many of these games involved premade mcs- I've played as some variation of Rosalie in games for as long as I could remember.

I noticed there's a trend that popped up in her choices that I think is as interesting as it is amusing. Ofc, most of these choices were just my personal favorite bachelors of that game, but they were still used to devlop her, and I hadn't realized how much she leaned towards certain professions, personalities, ect. I've concluded my girl loves a hardworking boy whose brooding but sweet- or a golden retriever Marlin: Harvest Moon: A Wonderful Life was my first Farming Sim. I didn't get to play the female version until much later in life. So my choice of who'd I/Rosalie married had been pretty decided lonnng before I finally got to play it. But honestly even though I like Marlin, he's kind of the default choice because I didn't care for Rock and Gustafa- and Rosalie wouldn't either. I think if I had ever gotten to play HMDS:Cute I might have liked him more- or she would have married Griffin-

Blue | Harvest Moon: Magical Melody / Friends of Mineral Town: Loved Grey/Blue. (Let's face it their pretty much the same character). Upset the remake took away his hat. Little off topic, but even though character customization wouldn't be a thing in these games for years- I'd used to imagine my character had pink hair like Popuri LOL

Vaughn | Harvest Moon: Sunshine Islands: Vaughn was the first time I ever was head over heels for a character in one of these games- I just adored everything about him and I don't think it's hard to see why. Once she got to know him better, Rosalie def would have been hella smitten for this cowboy- (Also Vaughn walked so Logan could run-)

Owen | Harvest Moon Animal Parade: So Owen is an unexpected deviation. Most of these choices are also my favorites, but when I first played through HM:AP Gil was actually my favorite bachelor. I could have made him and Rosalie work, but it just didn't feel right. So after looking them all over I think she def would have preferred Owen

Dylas | Rune Factory 4: One of my favorite games from the genre- and I think the cast of romanceable characters was STACKED. Dylas was my favorite because he was seriously SO damned cute in all his events 🥰 Also think it's kinda funny he's a horse guy and Rosalie has a lot of horse motifs herself-

Alex | Stardew Valley: REALLY unpopular opinion incoming! I've put over 500+ hrs into SV 😭 but in all that time, I've just never clicked with any of the characters. Which really sucks because this is the first game I ever got to play as Rosalie. Alex and Sam were my favs, but I think Rosalie would lean more towards Alex.

Logan | My Time At Sandrock: Logan 😍💖🥰Just, guh- I LOVE everything about him and MTAS so damn much. Especially because the hyper fixation I had with this game/character was what led me to finalize Rosalie's design/character at long last. I developed so much content for him and Rosalie I never got to share 😭hope I can someday!

Mark | Coral Island: God I love big men who love animals- and Rosalie does too. 💦🥰 Honestly, even though he started out as one of my favorites (later to be replaced by Shark man hoo hoo haw), I wished more of his heart events focused on his relationship with the player instead of the dog. It was really cute at first but like 6 of the 8 cutscenes were about it and most of the time he never even interacted with your character. Was disappointing ngl.

Nokk | Roots of Pacha: Now- Nokk is not currently a romanceable character, but I'm hoping the future update will add him to the roster. 🫠💔Cause this is another case where I LOVE the game to pieces but none of the characters speak to me- aside from the one I can't have- Hayden: Fields of Mistria: and last but not least- Hayden. He just completely encapsulates so much of what Rosalie finds attractive, it's a little funny. I'm waiting until the game is finished to continue playing and I can't wait to see what the future holds for him.

The following will include some honorable mentions that I didn't include because I didn't have anymore room on my template/they weren't a farming sim/ect.

First up! Nathaniel from Sunhaven!<3 Feel like this responsible captain of the guard would work well with Rosalie. Honestly, there weren't really any choices that felt right for her, but for once in many years my main playthrough of the game ended up being with a different character and I had someone pre-picked out for her. So there lots of great choices, just none that suit Rosalie well.

[inkedaway]

Hot and Cold (Dandadan)

Title: Hot and Cold

Notes: I don't often post fanfiction but man, something about this show grabbed me, so here I go. This is just me having a lot of speculative thoughts about Okarun's Turbo form and me just wanting to put them down on paper. This is a what if scenario - what if it took time for him to calm down instead of returning back to normal immediately?

Pairing: Momo/Okarun romantic undertones, this is fluff

Rating: G

Summary:  But the one thing she did remember from her several few ordeals with him so far in his new form, was the strange attitude shift, and the fact that he curiously, ran cold. Temperature wise. Temperament wise… everything, really, but specifically, to the touch. She clearly recalled the first time she'd gripped his hand, and he'd closed it around hers, and how the surprise had been only just glazing the shallow parts of her brain that oh, he was quite a few degrees colder than he'd been just a few moments ago, and wasn't that interesting? Ao3 link: Here Can also be read under the read more here.

Momo hadn't really realized that she hadn't spent a lot of time observing Okarun's newer form. Every single time he'd used it, she'd had, metaphorically speaking, much bigger fish to fry, and hadn't managed more than the cursory surprise the first time, and just plain acceptance that this was, indeed, just a thing now.

Not once had events slowed down enough for her to actually pause and process what she was seeing, or what he was really doing beyond the surface level. In her defense, it was quite hard to think on her feet, while running away from potentially life and death situations, and also take a moment to appreciate the changes her new friend had gone through. She could not be blamed for it, really, but the one thing she did remember from her several few ordeals with him so far, was the strange attitude shift, and the fact that he curiously, ran cold.

Temperature wise. Temperament wise... everything, really, but specifically, to the touch. She clearly recalled the first time she'd gripped his hand, and he'd closed it around hers, and how the surprise had been only just glazing the shallow parts of her brain that oh, he was quite a few degrees colder than he'd been just a few moments ago, and wasn't that interesting?

Still, like with everything in those situations, it had been swiftly and efficiently shoved to the back part of her brain, in favor of focusing on figuring out how they were both going to get the fuck out of their current situation with at least (most) of their parts still firmly attached.

This wasn't to say she hadn't thought of his form, or the boy in general. She had.

Unfortunately, it had become a common occurrence for her thoughts to stray to him throughout the day. Sometimes, she wouldn't even begin the moment by thinking about him, and then her train of thought would veer right and into a mountain side, as she got entirely distracted by some stray notion, landing back on Okarun.

Despite this, she hadn't really given that form... much thought outside the obvious. Which was, perhaps, why she was so surprised when the door to exit the school roof opened, and rather than the hunched over, geek boy she'd been expecting to join her for lunch, it was the other form that practically dragged itself over.

He looked tired.

But then, he always looked tired like this, and for a moment, she remain quiet as the boy walked over and then, just... allowed himself to flop on the ground near her feet, like a marionette whose strings had been cut, boneless, lifeless, "What happened to you, anyways?" she asked between bites of food as she angled her head to look down at him, "What's with all... this?" she gestured vaguely at him, from head to toe, waving the food she'd been holding on one hand at him.

For a moment, all she got was a grunt, or perhaps a sigh, it was hard to tell like this. His position remain flopped on the ground, both eyes having closed, before one opened and settled on her. Red, unblinking and strangely reminding her of a large cat, "Got mad," this explained absolutely nothing to her, and must have been obvious from the way she stared at him, because he let out a long, soul wrenching sigh as he closed his one eye again, "Can't change. No idea why. Not that it matters."

Granted, he wasn't entirely wrong; most students couldn't see the difference like she could. There was little danger in him being in that form at the current moment in time, "Uh...huh," she said as she ate, "You still mad?"

She got no response this time, just a small flick of a large hand that she interpreted as a vague negative, but otherwise he remain stretched on the floor, near her legs.

It was then the notion came to her; he reminded her of a sunning lion, too lazy to move in the heat of the day, but still dangerous enough that he could spring into action at any given moment, "Cool," another bite of food and soon enough, her sandwich was finished, and Momo scrunched the paper it'd come in within her hands, "So, just a thought but... every time to use your powers, you tend to go back to normal. That likely hasn't changed. Give it a go maybe?"

A whine exited his mouth, or... his mask, without it moving. Heavy, mournful, like she'd just asked him to give up his first born or something equally ridiculous, "I don't wanna move, Momo... I don't wanna do anything, just leave me here."

"For the love of-" Momo rolled her eyes and swiftly decided this just would not do, "Get up. C'mon, up, up, up!" her hand reached out and began to move him, pushing his shoulder several times, to no avail, "If we tire you out, you'll stop this downer bs thing you got going."

Despite her best efforts, the most she got out of him was another small sound, the one eye reopening to fix back on her, "Nooo... what if I need to use those full bursts later? I ain't gonna do that," and, well, he did have a point, not that she wanted to concede that to him. As such she continue shoving on his shoulder, until one of his hands shot out, lightning fast, grabbed her arm, destabilized her, and forced her to crash half on top of him awkwardly.

"Okarun!!" her first reaction was mild panic, swiftly followed by severe annoyance as she hovered over him. He was still looking at her, almost languidly, from that one open eye. And perhaps Momo had misrepresented him; less of a lion, more of an overgrown, lazy dog, flopped over, refusing to move. She lifted a hand, and gave his shoulder one last smack before she righted herself back so she was sitting beside him once more, instead of partially over him. A huff of breath escaped her lips before she looked at him out the corner of an eye, "Were you aware you run cold in this form?"

"Is that why you won't lay down with me, Momo?"

There was zero innuendo in the question, no sort of implication to the words, just curiosity, and perhaps, melancholy there. She turned her head fully to watch him then, "No, you idiot, of course not," rather than actually responding to his question and following that very dangerous train of thought to its inevitable conclusion, instead she frowned down at him, "You're cold, but not uncomfortable. Also, why do you only call me Momo while you're like this, anyways?"

Both his eyes opened then, and strangely enough did a full on blink, "Momo is Momo," as if this were any sort of explanation. When all the response he got out of her was a clearly confused look, he apparently gave up explaining himself and closed his eyes again, "I'm tired..."

"You've literally done nothing today, it's noon, Okarun. You can not be tired," The small huff of sound he made, like an upset, annoyed dog seemed to contradict her, but since he didn't really use his words, Momo let out a sigh and rolled her eyes at him, "You plan on returning to class like that?" another sound, this one sad almost melancholic, like he couldn't be arsed to even begin thinking about class at the current moment, nor any moment in the near future.

Lifting her phone out of her pocket, she looked at the time; there was a bit more than half hour before they'd have to leave, which gave them, hopefully, enough time to fix their current predicament, though Momo guessed it couldn't be that bad. Worst case he'd just flop on his desk and no one would pay him any mind.

Given her previous thoughts, she turned her head and simply watched him for a while, taking note of the way his spiritual energy merged with his hair and his clothes, specifically, making both look almost engulfed in flames. From her own experience when she'd held onto him, neither hair nor clothes were heated whatsoever, though then again, she hadn't really paid it that much mind, what with the killer crab chasing them at the time.

Before she even knew what she was doing, her hand had lifted and reached out towards his hair, curiosity taking her. Her own movement didn't register until he apparently sensed the hand and both eyes opened to settle on it, before they slowly moved to fix on her own, languid and unblinking, but a clear question there, "Oh, sorry, just..." there was zero judgement in his gaze, if anything, a vague curiosity there, "Your hair," his expression did not change, not even an eyebrow twitch, though he did offer her a very slow, once again, almost feline like blink, and given he did absolutely nothing to stop her, she moved her hand in the direction of his hair.

Momo wasn't someone that kept herself from doing or saying the things she wanted to often, and besides, she was more than well aware that had he wanted no contact, she would have never even been able to get close to him. He may have been still at the present moment, but he'd demonstrated twice already that he was more than cognizant of the world around him, "It looks like fire, Okarun. I was wondering why it also runs cold, is all. Do you mind?" her hand had stopped only a few scant inches away from his strands, and she waited for him to make a noncommittal sound before she lowered it into the white mass, sweeping her fingers like they were a brush.

She watched him close his eyes against her ministrations, and once again, the animal like comparison returned in her mind, "C'mere," she said after a few moments, and slowly moved herself and him, fully aware that the only reason she was managing to move him, was because he was allowing it. He remain mostly dead weight but he did nothing more than make a vaguely whine like sound at losing contact with her hand in his hair.

"Momoooooooo..."

She grabbed at his shoulders and he offered no resistance to her when she pulled his head on her lap, "Maybe if you fall asleep, you'll change back," no response other than a small huff, but his eyes didn't close again until one hand returned to sink in his hair, moving carefully through it. It felt, to the touch, much like normal hair would, and if she closed her eyes, and blocked out his looks, she was certain she would not have noticed the difference.

Idly, it made her wonder if she would ever manage to get the boy to lay down like this while not in this form, and would the texture of his hair be any different. She focused her attention on the phone she had clutched in her free hand, and as she petted him, her mind drifted, her thoughts discombobulated while she scrolled through her phone. On instinct, she knew it was still a while before the bell rung and they'd be forced to move anyways.

Her attention only returned back to him when she heard a soft snuffle like sound, her eyes tracking down to see her hand now moving through black, unruly hair, which interestingly enough, did indeed feel the same, the boy having actually managed to fall into a light sleep in place, his form having returned to normal.

Less of a dangerous predator in this form, more of a lap dog, cute and vulnerable, she thought, but her hand did not stop its movement.

She still had five or ten minutes left after all.

[little-annie]

Thanks to the @strangerthingswritersguild and @penny00dreadful for the prompt!

Wax | T | 1,018 WC | Steddie

They're set up in the kitchen of their tiny apartment. Wax pot hot and ready sitting on the countertop, popsicle sticks, muslin cloth and rubber gloves next to it neatly laid out. It's the best set up Steve could manage in their small home. Sure the lighting in the living room is immensely better, but he's not about to spend an hour or more trying to get wax out of shag carpet when he unavoidably gets some on the floor.

In nothing but his underwear, Eddie's laid out on one of the hot pink massage tables the school lends their students, shuffling uncomfortably atop the paper cover, wrinkling and ripping it before they can even begin. “You're sure about this?”  

Well, not entirely. But Steve's not about to tell Eddie that. He needs the practice for school.

“Yeah, Babe. You'll be fine.”

“Like it's not going to burn me or rip my fucking skin off?”

Okay. Well. It's not like Steve's about to tell Eddie that both of those are actual possibilities. 

He gives his boyfriend a placating pat to the top of his head instead.

“Steve! It's not actually going to burn me is it?”

Again, it is 100% a possibility.

“You'll be fine.”

"Fucking ow!”

They've been at it for a little over an hour. Steve's beginning to sweat and his arm is starting to get sore.

And Eddie. Well….

“Oh holy mother of Wayne!”

…. He's not doing great.

They started with Eddie's eyebrows. Which evidently were very difficult to do as the man chose to glare the entire time, and took much longer than they should have with his struggle. Then they did his knuckles and arms, which surprisingly wasn't bad. They just learned Eddie absolutely needs to exfoliate more because his tattoos looked nearly new once the hair and layer of dead skin was removed. 

Then they moved to Eddie's chest, which has hardly any hair. Just a sprinkle between his pecs and a dusting around his nipples. That Eddie didn't mind. Actually he seemed to like it a little too much. Tenting his underwear proudly and stating with a bitchy attitude, “I will not apologise for my body's natural reactions to you playing with my nipples.”

Which Steve supposed he couldn't argue with that.

Now though they've moved on to Eddie's armpits. Which has been eventful. He'd put on pit-stick like Steve had asked him not to, thus resulting in Steve wiping at the damn things until they were clean and sore, and maybe a little inflamed. Which should have been a good enough sign as any to stop, but Steve was too focused on berating his boyfriend to consider taking a break until the skin calmed down.

So, after applying the baby powder like he should and swiping a layer of wax onto Eddie's skin, Steve had pulled back the first wax strip with Eddie's wiry black armpit hair and evidently a layer of skin intacted.

It's nothing awful. It's not like he's oozing blood but, like, there is some there. Popping from Eddie's inflamed skin in little red pin pricks. Dotting now what looks like the rug-burned skin of his boyfriend's armpit.

….He blames Eddie.

None the wiser to the current layer of skin that's been removed from his body in a pinky size strip, Eddie continues to scowl at the ceiling as he bemoans his current situation. “I'm going to die on this bubble gum pink table Steve. Perish from pain alone. I survived bats from hell and I'm going to meet my untimely demise by – why do you look like that?”

Oh, maybe he shouldn't still be staring at the piece of his boyfriend's body stuck to the mess of wax and hair on the muslin strip in his hand.

“Steve, what's wrong?” 

“I- well.” God he's never going to hear the end of this, “Remember how you were worried about ripping your skin off?”

Eddie's eyes grow comically wide, which unfortunately in his case is made even funnier by the red splotchy, freshly waxed skin around his eyebrows.

“Steven.”

“Don't Steven me. If you didn't put on deodorant like I told you to, this wouldn't have happened.”

After a solid second of attempting to surely glare daggers into Steve's soul, Eddie twists to try to get a better look at his one underarm.

“How bad is it? Is it bleeding? Baby, is there going to be permanent damage? Is there a hole!? I can't have a hole in my armpit, Stevie, they'll call me holy pits! I'll die on this godforsaken pink bed and my headstone will read ‘Edward holy pits Munson, Gone Too Soon.’ My obituary will tell the tale of my sordid demise. ‘Perished at the latex wrapped hands of his lover. For if his death were caused by immense pain or bodily harm via hot wax, we'll never know.’”

Steve's giggling by the time Eddie's finished.

“You laugh now, but in no time at all I'll have expired in the kitchen of the home you love.” 

“Eddie-.”

“Will you mourn me?”

“Ed-.”

“Promise me you will, and that you'll take no other lover.”

Steve fondly rolls his eyes. “I promise to mourn you until my dying day, and to leave this world as lonely as I was before you.”

Eddie nods to himself then, still laying on the bed with his arm propped above him, “Good. Now kiss it better.”

He can't be serious.

“Your armp-?”

“Kiss it better and all shall be forgiven!”

Mumbling to himself a quiet ‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ Steve kisses Eddie's armpit and then immediately after, his lips, whispering against them, “Better?”

Eddie hums, kisses Steve again and whispers back, “One more should do the trick.”

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, kissing Eddie's lips again, “I really do.”

An impromptu make out session on the creaking massage table later, Steve sits up in Eddie's lap. 

“I do still have to wax your legs though.”

“Baby, no.”

“And, um, you know what a Brazilian is?”

By the horrified look in Eddie's eyes, Steve assumes he does.

[kierewrites]

What Would Karma Do... when you support him at his baseball game?

navi - masterlist

Karma Akabane x Reader

Mood Song: dare

Summary: Remember the beloved Assassination Classroom anime? This is pretty much that, except you enter the picture of Karma's chaotic school year. Let's see just how compatible the two of you are.

Warnings: mild cursing, just some chaotic fluff

Ever since the kidnapping incident, things have been ironically great.

It was ironic because to any regular person, said things should’ve been horrible. You had a new classmate that was a robot, Korosensei's apparent brother came and tried to kill him, and Professor Jelavic's old teacher came to try and show you all a lesson.

But somehow amongst the chaos you found harmony. Honestly you were surprised with the way you were handling things. Between getting kidnapped and the rest of the unusual events, it’s safe to say you didn’t see this much action back at your prestigious school from your old country.

Regardless, you couldn't help but feel this newfound comfort was thanks to your lovable (and slightly chaotic) red headed boyfriend, Karma Akabane.

Ever since you had almost been kidnapped your relationship with him grew stronger. He began to open up new sides of himself with you, just as you did with him. For once everything seemed to be going great. That is, until the A Class came back into the picture.

"Well, that was a beating." Nakamura sighed as the females of your class trudged to the baseball fields.

Thanks to your training, you didn't feel too sore from the rough loss you just endured, but that didn't help your deflated ego.

Back at home you were great at many sports, winning was just something you were accustomed to at this point. But unfortunately you had to play the one sport you despised: basketball.

Each of the classes had a tournament of different sports, the boys were currently playing baseball while the girls just finished their basketball tournament. You would've killed to play baseball instead, but beggars can't be choosers. The A Class had olympian-like players anyways, so at least the outcome wasn’t that big of a shock.

"For real, I feel like all my fingers are broken." You whined with a pout of your lip as you wiggled your sore fingers around to help the aching feeling.

"No worries, there's always next time, yeah?" Kataoka said with a soft smile, her words making the group of defeated players feel just a bit better.

Kayano whimpered as she looked down solemnly, "It was my fault. My suckage dragged the whole team down." 

"Oh come on don't be like that." You sighed as you wrapped an arm around her.

"Yeah Y/n is right, we all sucked"

Kayano let out an annoyed growl as she crossed her arms, claiming her lack of skill was due to the rather… feminine build of the Class A players. At this you couldn’t help but snort, watching as your classmates argued over whether that truly mattered.

You knew your own chest was a fair size so you decided not to butt in for the sake of the argument. Luckily for all of you, the large fence of the baseball field came into view about halfway through the conversation, a smile curling onto your lips.

The feeling of an elbow jabbing your side caused you to choke a bit as you looked over to see Nakamura smirking at you.

"Excited to see your boyfriend~" Nakamura playfully sang, the girls all squealing at the sight of your cheeks glowing a bright pink tint.

Laughing bashfully you fiddled with your fingers as you grinned over to her, "Maybe~."

"I still find it ironic you and Karma became a pair, he gives me the heebeejeebees." Kurahashi said with a shiver, a few of the girls nodding in agreement at that.

All you could do was really shrug. You knew where they were coming from, but you just saw things differently with the chaotic brute.

"Anyways, let's hope the boys are doing better than we did." Hayami said, all your gazes now focusing on the field where you watched your fellow classmates in uniform.

-

Based on the sight of things, the game didn't seem to be going well. Or even fair for that matter.

Class A's team was mere steps away from your class' batter. It was obvious he wouldn't be able to swing without the ball being caught immediately.

The sight made your brows knit together in frustration, your fingers clinging to the thin metal bars of the fence as your classmates gathered close by. Karasuma was already there watching intently, his expression understandably grim.

"Looks like the boys were doing better than we did," Nakamura said with a sigh as she pointed out the scoreboard with your class in the lead, "But it looks like they're suffering the consequences now with Mr. Stick-Up-His-Butt."

Your eyes moved from the scoreboard to the very principal himself who stood from the dugout, a devious intent in his eyes.

The sight alone made you shiver. Just like his son, something just seemed very off about that man.

Your thoughts came to a halt when the sound of a familiar tongue clicking filled your ears. Tilting your head to the side, your eyes widened to see a familiar redhead leaning against the gate entrance to the field.

"Tsk tsk tsk, I'm disappointed your eyes weren't on me first angel."

Smiling wide, you jogged over to your boyfriend and jumped into his awaiting arms.

"Sorry Karma I got distracted, I missed you today." You mumbled with a smile as you stood on your toes just to peck at his lips.

Karma simply chuckled as he returned the peck before glancing back to the field with a raised eyebrow, "I missed you too Y/n, but mind me asking who distracted you first?"

Karma's jealousy never failed to peek out from his nonchalant facade, his words making you roll your eyes at him playfully before you glanced back at the field to search for your prior distraction.

"Principal Asano just caught my eye... I don't know what it is but something about him makes me feel uneasy everytime I see him.”

The slight shiver of your body didn't go unnoticed by Karma, his arm squeezing your waist gently leading you to look up to his confident golden hues.

"What the old man? Don't let him get to you, it's just a facade." Karma said with a grin as he shifted your hips so that you were facing him once again, "Just you wait, once we beat these Class A jerk-offs you'll get to see the principal lose his cool, it'll be a dream come true."

Giggling at Karma’s all too excited plan, you snaked your arms up into his red locks giving them a ruffle while playfully raising a brow.

"Be nice my prince of chaos, we don't wanna hurt their egos too much."

Karma let out a genuine laugh at that, smooshing his lips up against your cheek before backing towards the gate entrance, "Whatever you say, princess."

His return of the mocking nickname made you roll your eyes, but not before blowing him a kiss as he jogged back to his classmates. This game was sure to be interesting.

-

"We're at the top of the second inning and the invincible defense is still the order of the day!" The sports newscaster exclaimed over the radio.

"Batter number eight, left-fielder Akabane."

Your eyes lit up as you saw your boyfriend walk up to the base, you were about to shout his name but paused in your decisions when you noticed the redhead looking deep in thought.

Blinking at this, you glanced to the field and noticed the rest of the team just a few footsteps away from Karma as some sort of defense. Though you were no expert in baseball, you knew there's no way that was allowed.

"Move it kid. Get your tail in the batters box." The referee shouted, he sounded a bit agitated.

Karma simply glanced towards your principal, his eyes narrowed in focus causing you to raise a brow.

"Never pegged you as the type to play dirty, sir." Karma spoke, venom on his tongue as the principal simply smiled at the boy.

Now it was all making sense, the principal was Class A's new fill in coach of sorts. What happened to their old one?

"If the rules haven't changed, this little gambit ain't legal. They're guarding the infield, umpire should've called it by now." Karma hissed, his head glancing back at the A Class spectators with a grin, "Oh come on, anyone smell a rat or is it just me?"

At this your classmates seemed to snort. Though Karma was being his usual snarky self, everyone knew he was right. This was a risky call for the principal; was he really that scared of your class winning? This rivalry the classes had amongst each other must have been much more personal than you thought.

"Oh, never mind!" Karma exclaimed with a sly smirk as he pointed towards the A Class spectators, "You guys are morons, baseball is like a foreign language to ya!"

At that final comment there was a mix of laughter and yelling. You couldn't help but giggle as he stood amongst the angry students with his arms out, as if he was welcoming the angry cries. 

His golden eyes landed on you for a quick second, he flashed a smile and winked before turning back to bat for his team. This trouble maker was going to start a riot and his only response was sticking his tongue out.

Sure enough the rest of the game went as expected. The A Class was playing dirty, from getting too close to the players to even bunting the ball making it nearly impossible for the E Class to have any sort of defense.

Your poor classmates looked exhausted and drained, you felt horrible for them. This game was getting dragged out in the blazing heat all because A Class couldn't take a loss.

Just as it was Class E's turn to play defense, Karma ran to the group with what looked like an idea in mind. You knew he had been talking to Korosensei, maybe it was a new plan for them to win?

Sure enough as your classmates broke away from their huddle the plan was revealed, but you weren't very fond of it.

Karma and Isogai moved not even three feet away from the batter that was up. Karma's golden eyes glared towards the principal as you heard him speak up.

"Choking up the infield isn't helping the batter's concentration, but what are you gonna do? Now if the umpire had called you on earlier there'd be a precedent for telling us to back off." Karma explained as a matter of factly, his eyes narrowing as he grinned to the principal, "You're cool with this, right chief?"

Suddenly your heart began to race a bit faster. There's no way the principal would okay this right? It was just a silly baseball game, it wouldn't even hurt your school's reputation.

Unfortunately the principal didn't seem to care as he simply smiled and nodded his head.

"Proceed as you will, a true athlete does not falter before such trickery."

Your eyes widened as Karma's grin turned into a wicked smirk at his words.

"Wow, duly noted." Karma cooed before him and Isogai walked even closer to the batter until they were a mere footstep away, "We'll hold you to that sir."

Moving closer to the fence you attempted to call out Karma's name until you felt a hand on your shoulder. Glancing up you noticed it was Karasuma's hand but he kept his eyes glued to the field.

"You have no reason to worry Y/n, the boys know what they're doing and they're following the octopus' order."

Biting your lip you let out a shaky sigh and nodded before glancing back to the field.

Even the batter seemed to be a bit shaken up, but the principal simply said to ignore them. His words nearly made your head explode, your foot nervously tapping against the messy clay of the field.

As Sugino made his first pitch the pitcher sure enough followed the principal's orders and swung, the bat just inches away from Karma and Isogai's heads as they moved back barely an inch. The sight made you gasp as you began to anxiously bite at one of your nails, this was insane!

Karma only seemed amused as he moved closer to the batter with a psychotic grin, "Give us a break, holding back ain't gonna cut it pal. On the next throw, swing like you're trying to kill us."

In the next moment you expected to see Karma and Isogai on the ground with cracked skulls, but instead you heard the batter cry in fear as he hit the ball awkwardly causing it to bounce on the ground.

Karma was quick to jump and catch it, throwing it to Nagisa so he could place it on the home base. Isogai then quickly instructed Nagisa to throw it to third base which he did, Kimura catching it just in time to get the last player of Class A out.

"T..The game is over!" The sports announcer said shakily, "I can't even... this is insane! The winner is... I never thought I would say this but the winner is E Class."

Though there were obvious groans and gasps of shocks, the cheers from your class were much louder as you all clapped and shouted their names. Your classmates soon left the field to meet up with you guys, your classmates all high fiving and cheering for one another.

Skipping to your boyfriend you gave him a tight hug, his arms raising in surprise before he chuckled and hugged you back.

"That was amazing Karma!" You exclaimed into his chest as he ran his fingers through your locks before taking a step back and glaring at him as you grabbed onto his collar and pulled him down to your level, "But if you ever do that again I'll kill you!"

Karma's eyes widened in surprise before he laughed and shooed your hand off his shirt, "Yeah yeah. You know I wouldn't have let those A Class jerks touch me angel."

His smug words made your lips tug into an annoyed frown as you crossed your arms at him, the sight making Karma roll his eyes before snaking his arms around your waist and tugging your turned back against his chest. Your attempt at remaining annoyed with him slowly cracked as he kept placing messy kisses on the sides of your face.

"Don't make that pouty face, you'll get ugly wrinkles."

Your pouted lips immediately fell in feigned offense as you narrowed your eyes up at him, but before you could rebuttal, you heard some of the A Class students grumbling to themselves.

"Oh damn that was totally pointless, how did they lose to those E Class jerkwads?" One of the boys snarled. Their words made your brows furrow as you gripped onto Karma’s arms that were wrapped around you.

Karma seemed just as annoyed as his grip on you tightened slightly.

"All that superior fire power wasted."

Finally having enough of their passive aggressive comments, you stood up a bit straighter as you shouted over to them with a grin, “I think you mean all that superior fire power lost.”

The sight of you sticking your tongue out at them soon after your comment made their faces scrunch in anger, but as soon as they caught sight of the scary looking man behind you, they quickly averted their gazes and mumbled amongst each other.

Watching them walk away made you huff, your body turning around to face Karma as you puffed your cheeks out in annoyance, “Those jerks just won’t leave us alone! Someone ought to teach them a lesson.”

The sight of your frustrated expression nearly made Karma groan as he smirked down at you. Though a rare sight, you always looked so adorable all fired up. He couldn’t help but tease you.

“Woah don’t get too fired up there angel, you may do something crazy like try to set their alarm clocks an hour back so they’re late to school.”

Karma’s words made your lip pout as you glared up to him with folded arms.

“Have fun walking up the hill by yourself.” You huffed, turning on your heel to walk off with your classmates, but you were stopped in your tracks as strong arms lifted you into the air, your growls slowly molding into giggles as Karma ran with you to catch up with your class that already began their ascent to the classroom.

Nothing out of the ordinary for your classmates, they simply observed your interaction with smiles before Karma placed you down, the large group of you walking up together with a sense of provide filled in all of you.

“So, how did the basketball tournament go?” Nagisa asked, turning back to his classmates only to be shocked at the dull expressions on the girl’s faces.

“Oh yeah! Did you kick-” Karma’s words were cut off when a collective sigh of groans filled the air, your lips quirking into a sheepish smile as you glanced up to your boyfriend who wore a confused expression.

"Uhhh, let's not ruin the moment."

next chapter

[loveerran]

Deliverance for the Captives

I recently attended a ward that was different than any other ward I have ever attended before. It was located near a prison and comprised mostly of men who were either currently incarcerated or previously released. They met in a warehouse conference room. Folding chairs were set up in a fan shape, pointed toward a podium. On the week I attended, they were having a testimony meeting. I arrived a bit late and took a chair a friend was saving for me just as the testimonies were beginning.

An LDS testimony meeting can be a real cultural experience. Everyone is welcome. A typical testimony meeting involves members taking turns standing up and delivering whatever words are in their heart to the entire congregation. Testimonies may be a minute long or considerably more. The entire program is completely free form and open to all the unexpected moments such a format suggests. Sometimes testimonies are brief and focused on a witness of Jesus Christ. Other times, they delve into personal experiences or provide the congregation with an impromptu lesson from the speaker. And there are, occasionally, some that are quite memorable and depart from the typical formulas entirely. It’s a uniquely Mormon event, and you really should consider attending one just for the experience (you can sit in back and not participate, and they are typically held on the first Sunday of each month).

In this particular meeting, a man who had spent decades behind bars spoke encouragingly to the others. We also heard the story of a homeless man living in a park and dealing with police issues. The US incarcerates a lot of individuals, and most have significant difficulty finding work and putting their lives together after release. Almost all the speakers were men, though two were women.

The testimony that stood out to me the most came from a wonderful sister who was married to someone who had spent time in prison. She followed up with more wonderful thoughts a bit later as we sat in a lesson together. The two messages touched my heart and have been coming back to me ever since. This is how I have been remembering them:

1. During the testimony meeting, she spoke to the men about living with ‘the jail that is in your head’. She talked about how they carry with them the burden of their own negative self-perceptions and how this holds them back from believing they can heal and re-integrate, holds them back from realizing who they are as children of loving Heavenly Parents and from becoming who they and their families want them to become. She also spoke of how the negative beliefs and judgments of others hurt us and bind us down. Christ came to set the prisoners free. Part of becoming free is realizing that the past does not dictate all that is possible in the future for us. Christ wants to free us from the chains of negative self-perception and the shame and fear we inherit from the world around us when they see us as something other than children of God.

2. In a later class she spoke again. This time she talked about her own situation. How hard it was to have a husband who was in prison. She spoke of a box of expectations, and how she placed in this box all the things that had been part of how her life was supposed to go, and all the accomplishments and milestones she had expected to experience along the way: college, marrying a returned missionary, living happily ever after, and so on. Instead, her box had blown up, just fallen apart in tatters. As she lived through that, she learned that the love of God exists outside of boxes. God works powerfully, even in lives that don’t seem to fit the mold of conventional expectations.

Some people who read this may be offended by the idea of these men attending church. They may want to focus on the fact that these men are criminals who have done bad things and hurt others. They may want to continue ostracizing and isolating them or avoid interacting with and seeing them at all. Those are natural feelings, and I do not expect and am not calling for the victims of these men to forgive or embrace them. However, they are still human beings. They are still children of God. They are still in need of redemption. Christ called on us to minister to those in need, including those in prison – physically or otherwise. Our prophet has encouraged “each of us to reach out to ‘the one’ in our lives who may be feeling lost or alone”. Mercy and the enduring love of Jesus Christ can be difficult topics.

After that meeting, I found myself feeling glad these men had this place to gather, a place to seek healing and fellowship, a place to express their desire to do good and become better, a place to work on their hope for putting off the sins of the past and becoming reborn and redeemed through the atonement of Jesus Christ. I was glad that their families, and those who still love them and want them to heal, could join them there. And I thought about how Jesus might embrace and welcome them if they ever attended His ward, regardless of where it was.

[linghxr]

My 2024 in cdramas, cmovies & cvariety

With 2024 now over, it's the perfect time to recap what Chinese-language shows and movies I've been watching since my previous write-up in spring 2024. I think I'll do one annually from now on!

This time I've added YouTube links (if available). I do my best with content warnings, but it's possible I've missed things. I only include warnings for things I have finished (not abandoned shows).

Shows/series:

Some of these were mentioned as “currently watching” in my previous post. They are marked with an asterisks*.

《微暗之火》 Tender Light

After Zhou Luo drops out of university and returns home under mysterious circumstances, he becomes a witness in a homicide case involving Nan Ya, a woman trapped in an abusive marriage. I watch a lot of Chinese crime/mystery shows, but this one was unique in that it focuses more on relationships. I enjoyed it but feel it would be stronger if it were shorter, maybe 20 episodes instead of 28.

Content warning: Domestic violence, death, sexual assault

Watch on YouTube

《猎罪图鉴2》 Under the Skin S2

Sketch artist Shen Yi, police officer Du Cheng, and the rest of the Beijiang team continue to utilize art to solve unusual crimes. I didn't initially plan to watch season 2, but after giving season 1 another try, the show grew on me. Season 2 didn't quite capture the magic of season 1, but it still had some strong moments. My favorite case was the Chinese opera one.

Content warning: Death, violence, child abuse, suicide, sexual assault

Watch on YouTube

《雪迷宫》 The First Shot

In the late 1990s, police officer Zheng Bei and his squad go after the drugs that have overrun their northeastern city, only to find that the roots run much deeper than they thought. The highlight of this show is the charismatic characters and their deep bonds. It was slow to get going, but I was on the edge of my seat the last 1/3 of the show. Definitely one of the most memorable of 2024 for me!

Content warning: Death, violence, sexual assault, addiction, and overdose

Watch eps 1-19/28 on YouTube

《我们与恶的距离》 The World Between Us

After a mass shooting, the families of the victims and perpetrator cross paths as they struggle to adapt to their new realities. This show deals with extremely heavy topics and felt quite realistic in many ways, so it was a difficult watch, frankly. There was a happy ending, but thinking back, I mostly remember feeling frustration throughout.

Content warning: References to death and a mass shooting event, violence, depictions of schizophrenic episodes

《新生》 Regeneration

At the funeral of a man named Fei Ke, the guests realize everything they know about the deceased is a lie and attempt to unravel the truth. I heard a lot of people didn't like the last 3 episodes, but I enjoyed the entire show. It was very satisfying seeing all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. Might even check out the original webnovel!

Content warning: Death, violence (but not graphic)

Watch ep 1, ep 2, ep 3, ep 4/10 on YouTube

《不够善良的我们》 Imperfect Us

Two women, discontent with their current lives, grapple with misplaced jealousy and regrets over what could have been. Starring 许玮甯 Hsu Wei-ning and 林依晨 Lin Yi-chen, this series is quite different from what I typically watch. It's about the ordinary and mundane, but I found myself excited to sit down and watch each episode. I think everyone can find something to relate to.

Content warning: Serious illness

《异人之下1》 I Am Nobody S1

After his late grandfather's body disappears, Zhang Chulan gets sucked into the world of yiren (outsiders) and must compete in a supernatural tournament, aided by the mysterious Feng Baobao. This show was a breath of fresh air and sooo hilarious, even if I didn't understand a lot of the lore about their powers. And season 2 just started airing!

Content warning: Violence, death, zombie-like creatures (I'm very afraid of zombies)

Watch on YouTube

--There was also a recent film adaption (confusing, I know), but I heard it was not well-received.

《摩天大楼》 A Murderous Affair in Horizon Tower*

Two police officers investigate the death of Zhong Meibao, a beautiful woman with a difficult past, only to find that her neighbors have secrets of their own. I'm so glad I finally watched this show after it had been on my list for so long. I felt it could have been a little tighter (maybe 13-14 episodes instead of 16), but overall it was a quality crime drama!

Content warning: Death, violence, voyeurism, domestic violence, child abuse

Watch on YouTube

Variety/reality:

《披荆斩棘4》 Call Me By Fire S4

Call Me By Fire is a bit like an idol survival show, but instead of young trainees, the contestants are established celebrities mostly ages 30+. I had such a blast watching season 4 week-by-week as it aired. The talent was out of this world! See my dedicated post about the franchise and its sister show, Sister Who Make Waves.

Watch on YouTube

《火星情报局6》 Mars Intelligence Agency S6*

I'm a massive fan of the singer 薛之谦 Xue Zhiqian, and I actually first became a fan due to his sense of humor. So why did it take me so long to check out this comedy show that he's on?!? I'd never watched a show like this before, but I loved it and surprised my self with my ability to follow jokes in Chinese! Sadly I haven't had time to start season 7, which is currently airing.

Watch on YouTube

Movies:

《谁先爱上他》 Dear Ex

After the death of his father and an argument with his mother, a boy bonds with Ah Jie, his father's boyfriend, all while a dispute over life insurance money plays out. I've actually watched film this twice, and I'm glad I did because I think I got a lot more out of it the second time! It's a sad premise, but there's ultimately a touching ending.

Content warning: Terminal illness, mild homophobia

《鬼才之道》 Dead Talents Society

A young ghost has only a month to become a ghostly legend, or else she'll fade from existence. I didn't think this movie sounded that interesting or original at first, but I watched it on a whim and actually REALLY enjoyed it! It struck the perfect balance of hilarious and heartwarming. I strongly recommend it if you don't mind some gore.

Content warning: Gore, body horror, death

《白日火焰》 Black Coal, Thin Ice

Former police officer Zhang Zili becomes entangled with Wu Zhizhen, a women who is linked to a series of murders that he's investigating. I watched this film after learning about its influence as part of the Dongbei renaissance. But it was honestly too grim for my liking. But if you like that kind of vibe, you might enjoy this.

Content warning: Death, violence, sexual assault

Watch on YouTube

Abandoning:

《唐人街探案》 Detective Chinatown

I only watched the first 8 episodes of season 1 because I heard the final 4 have a completely unrelated storyline and different characters (and is not as good). There was a season 2, but I think the Detective Chinatown humor is just not for me.

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《谁是被害者》 The Victims' Game

I watched the entire first season, but I'm not interested in season 2. The concept is strong, but I struggled to get through it. Also, I felt weird about how they portrayed the main character's autism/Asperger's syndrome.

On my watchlist:

Still have not gotten around to 《漫长的季节》 The Long Season or 《尘封十三载》 Thirteen Years of Dust...yikes! But also on my list:

《影后》 Born for the Spotlight

《莲花楼》 Mysterious Lotus Casebook

《我的阿勒泰》 To The Wonder

Happy 2025! I hope this year is filled with quality Chinese-language shows and movies for us all to enjoy ❤️

[gayofthefae]

They've said they want their show rewatchable. As someone who wasn't like SUPER invested in the ships/show before, the most rewatchable thing they can do is Mike's queerness.

I would not have rewatched it until season 5 came out. Maybe once before then if I got bored, but definitely not as much as I have without it. And the plots for Will have been too supernatural focused (also a good rewatch point after season 5 comes out, I'm sure) to be worth rewatching for his queer personal plot for two seasons before we even really get to it too much.

But Mike? Everything Mike does is impacted by his queerness. Will? Obviously. El? Most DEFINITELY. The Supernatural? You mean the thing that only ever affects Will and El? Yup.

Do you know my first thought, as someone not yet obsessed, when it started to become more clear that Mike was queer? "Oh, that's more interesting"

The average person isn't gonna drop the show because their ship broke up amicably. But they are going to if they get bored.

Mike having been queer the entire time, who cares if planned, as long as it isn't contradicted by anything prior (which is not possible because queerness is not disprovable) just gives a whole new view to everything he's ever done, making it less straightforward than you thought it was, changing your original view of the events, making you want to rewatch just to see how each moment is impact.

Making it more INTERESTING.

It's simple, honestly. Speaking as someone who passively thought the couples were cute and generally wanted the characters to be happy but wasn't deeply attached or fixating on any part of the show, Mike being queer is just more interesting than him being straight. That's all the people really want.

They've already gotten lots more residuals from this. And I'm sure they know that at least half of it isn't just because of the vol 2 lore drop. And it isn't because of what we think is gonna happen for Will in season 5 either, why watch seasons where it also hasn't happened yet. It's because of something else, much like the lore, that affects every facet of an entire plotline from the first episode. Not even the lore actually does that, it's just interesting to know, but that one's easier to connect back in your memory, but isn't as deeply rooted that you need to think through every singular behavior of the mind flayer. But with Mike, we know it affects it, but we immediately had to know how.

I probably would have rewatched it once by now. Maybe one more time a year from now to prepare for the season 5 release, but maybe not. I didn't do my rewatch before season 4's release, so I might not have. But instead, because of Mike and Mike only, I'm currently on my third watch since 2022. Maybe fourth, I'm not sure. Not just because of a ship I wanna see again because they're cute. Because I'm LEARNING something new every time I see his face on my screen. Not because I ship it, not even because I personally want it to be true for any character's sake.

But because Mike being queer is just. more. interesting.

[rwylm-things]

Author’s note : I’m lowkey geeking that I just wrote that !! Ok ok sorry I’m dramatic and cringe. Basically I would just like to preface a few things. This fic is very unfinished, I wrote it a while ago and don’t know if I’ll ever finish. I’ve always wanted to dip my toe into creative writing but always been to scared of…..sucking? This definitely sucks though.

Despite that I read someone say on here that your first writing is going to be bad. So here it is; my god awful Jason fic. What better way to start my journey of writing than fan fiction (please be nice I’m sensitive)

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

BLOW-POPS

Jason Todd x reader

Warnings : suggestive language

Word Count : 763

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

Finally,

You immediately braced your legs for the jump out of your seat. The ancient wheels on the chair create an uncomfortable squeak. You don’t pause to cringe at the awful sound, instead waving bye to your co-workers and making your way out the door. It had been a long day. Slow, but long. You had been laser focused on the minuscule arm that counted the final hour of the shift. As your legs hurriedly moved towards the car you could feel the tiredness seep through your bones. This particular shift had started in the earliest hours of the morning, as you start the engine your eyes drift up to the colors in the sky meshing together to create an orange hue. You let a hefty sigh leave your lips. The more thought put into it, the more excitement your mind created surrounding the prospect of taking a hot shower, watching some trash tv, and falling asleep on the couch. Smiling contently to yourself, you rush home.

Well. That was the plan. It really was.

You just may have forgotten to calculate for one important factor.

Red Hood.

Red Hood, who you may or may not have started a situationship with after he had saved your life last year. Your vehicle had been in the shop and you narrowly missed the bus for that night. Despite the fact that you’d been living in Gotham for up to a year at that point, you still took your chance and walked home from work. However, luck had never really been on your side. This was an event he would continuously criticize over the next year.

‘no concept of personal security’

‘no awareness about what's going on around you’

‘if I hadn’t been there…’

‘blah blah blah blah blah’

On one hand, you found it annoying that he really believed you couldn't take care of yourself. On the other hand, the delusional part, you relished in the thought of him giving a shit about what happens to you. To be frank, maybe situationship was the wrong word. Although you two were definitely not in a relationship. If you ever did come up with some miraculous courage, you would question the status between the two of you.

You seriously doubted that he would ever commit to a relationship. While he never specifically stated it, you knew. Despite the moments of softness he would spare, ones you would deny sent a fuzzy warmth into your head. Still, it was clear what he wanted from you.

You couldn't say friends with benefits either, that would insinuate that you two were friends. That would insinuate that you know more about him other than, he likes to be on top and has daddy issues.

Anyway, not the point.

Red Hood.

Red Hood, who was casually leaning against the marble countertops when you twisted the doorknob and stepped in. His helmet hung from his fingertips, leaving his face covered in only a black domino mask.

Red Hood.

Red Hood, who currently had you pressed deeply into the couch, leaving no room between your bodies. His full lips pressed harshly against your own, his tongue seeking entrance into your mouth. Once you slightly parted your lips, his tongue began dancing with yours, fighting for dominance.

He always won.

“You taste like cherry.”

This was the first he spoke since you had entered the apartment.

“I-” you paused as he began suckling on your neck,

“I ate a blow for lunch. Well actually I ate like six. This nice old lady I helped today gave me a jumbo bag. Don’t ask me why she just carried that around because I don’t know and I wasn’t about to ask. I know that I'm not supposed to be taking candy from strangers but like she was really nice and I was starving. Now that I think about it, I probably ate like ten.”

You rambled quickly, sounding almost breathless from his lips on your neck. You swear you felt him smile against your skin.

Meeting with him always gave you a rush of adrenaline. Meeting with him always created a very specific feeling you swore you could feel run through your veins. Knowing the hands that were gently caressing your upper torso were the same that ruthlessly pummeled the worst of Gotham. Maybe you were messed up, but hey, maybe that's what drew you two together.

That being said, you were tired.

As he moved to kiss further into the crook of your neck, you rested your eyes for a split second.

[ladythornofrivia]

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Three)

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: modern!reader bloody and beaten up but the prince interrupted the scene.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

a/n: please read chapter 2 before reading chapter 3 to know what’s happening. I hope you don’t mind long chapters.

Chapter Three: The House of Black & Green

~ Aemond’s POV ~

Thunder and rain barraged outside the Red Keep. So does Aemond’s heart, thundering and disoriented, clashing like the volcanos in the Doom of Valyria.

Aegon, on the other hand—surprisingly—stopped drinking; silently looking beyond the carved hole and examined the events unfold.

A gush of blood tainted onto the stoned floor when Ser Marrow thrashed your body forward, collapsing with a wet thud.

In the house of the dragons, Targaryens and Velaryons immediately stood from their seats, watching the events unfold. Ser Marrow huffed with his might, abiding for the Targaryens to come to an understanding with Ser Marrow’s reasons.

Alicent rose onto her feet and hoisted you up, but only meet halfway by you sitting up, bleeding as Alicent untied the blindfold and shielded you with her arms, as if Alicent has regret something in the first place.

“Explain yourself, Ser Marrow,” Alicent demanded, brows furrowed in ferocious temper.

Rhaenyra got up from her chair at a slow pace, mouth opened with terror at your current state. She knew that you were hurt from the battle; poisoned by the blade piercing through your youthful flesh.

“I was only doing good for the realm, to keep the peace intact,” Ser Marrow explained. “For Targaryen dynasty!”

“Lady (y/n) rescued my daughter from falling off the bridge, and you call it a ‘threat’,” Alicent defended.

Rhaenyra contained her wrath when Ser Marrow spoke for the ‘good of the realm’. “She saved my son,” she scolded him. “If it wasn’t for her, my son would’ve been killed from the wretched fools.”

“Yes, the wretched fools that this thing brought to the Red Keep!” Ser Marrow accused. “People are dead because of this monstrous bitch!”

Rhaenyra shook her head. “Ser Marrow, you forget yourself. What in the Seven Hells are you thinking? Beating her to a pulp, causing an uproar in the room was no good of excuse for you to gain sympathy of your ranking from us! Why do you think so highly of yourself? Have you had no shame on what you’ve caused?”

Ser Marrow hesitated for a moment, looking at you, then looking back at Rhaenyra. “I only did my duty, princess. Should she stay here in King’s Landing, death and destruction will bring upon the Targaryen line.”

“She did what she had to do to keep my family safe—”

“She’s a monster!” Ser Marrow bellowed. “A monster hiding beneath the human skin. She’s isn’t ordinary! Dangerous and filled with malice and lascivious intents to destory Westeros!”

Rhaenyra sighed, shaking her head. Prince Daemon, who stood the corner of the room, watched the events unfold.

Meanwhile, Alicent still embraced you tight, lessening the anxiety you were trying to suppress.

Aemond watched you from afar. Even awake, he found himself focused on your features—all fragile with grace and beauty within quietude. Droplets sank onto your tainted dress and your once immaculate hair has disarray from hair pulling. Aemond kept his composure and cast his sentimental aside.

Behind him, Aegon took notice of this, but said none; only amusement etched onto his drunken face.

“How dare you raised your voice against me, your future Queen, an heir to the Iron Throne and Seven Kingdoms?!” Rhaenyra declared.

Ser Marrow chuckled. “We all know in our hearts that you will never be queen or inherit the throne like that Rhaenys bitch, stringing along in a comfortably life with that old and weak man like that Sea Snake fucker!”

Everyone’s eyes snapped at his statement. Even Aemond’s and Aegon’s—halt from their tracks.

“Oh yes, surely you think it’s time to realize that you, a woman with big tits, hideous face and a loose cunt will never stand a chance against the son to rule to Seven Kingdoms on the Iron Throne. Sons are meant to rule, never the daughters.”

Rhaenyra had gone pale.

The silent gasps ensued.

Alicent stood up and approached Ser Marrow. “Remove your cloak and sword; you are hereby exiled from Westeros and reside at the Wall.”

Ser Marrow snorted without batting an eye on Alicent. “I don’t take orders from an ugly, vicious cunt.”

Alicent withstood her ground. “I won’t ask again, Ser Marrow.”

Anger blazing, Aemond make haste outside of the secret passage to enter the room, but Aegon hauled him back.

“Release me, brother. I have no time to indulge with your silly antics,” Aemond warned.

Aegon clutched Aemond’s arm tighter. “You’ll get in trouble. In more ways than one,” he warned back.

“Since when do you give a shit about your younger brother other than your wine and whores?” Aemond yanked his arm off from Aegon and entered the scene without noticing him; everyone is too focused that they’re unaware of Aemond’s presence hidden behind the thick pillar, his sword in hand, with his watchful eye, he was waiting for a moment to strike.

~Your POV~

Clutching your stomach as you were urging not to cough more blood. Behind you, the shadow overcast the ground, revealing Rhaenyrs Velaryon offered you a comforting smile and hands on your shoulders, though appearing more apologetic and saddening.

“Ser Criston, take Ser Marrow and escort him outside the Red Keep at once,” Alicent demanded in a low tone.

Ser Marrow shoved Criston back; Criston held his sword on his throat as the other guards in the room held their swords directly in front of Criston and Marrow.

“I will take no part in this charade,” Ser Marrow replied.

“Stand down now, good sir,” Criston said. “And walk away from the Red Keep.”

Ser Marrow. “This is your doing, Criston! If you haven’t brought that bitch here in the Red Keep, I would’ve still be part of the Kingsguard!”

“This is your own choosing to beat Lady (y/n),” Criston responded, apathetic.

“If only the monster hadn’t save the Rhaenyra’s bastard son, the succession to the Iron Throne would be secured. But he’s no son of the late Prince Laenor”—chuckled—“no, rather both monsters brought great ruination.”

For once, you’re glad Jace isn’t here.

“Fuck you,” you choked, blood spattered. “Admit it, you couldn’t handle a woman who bested you.”

Ser Marrow’s mouth clenched so tight, veins protruding from his neck. “You vile, insolent de—”

All the guards’s swords lowered, except for one blade tip kissed on Marrow’s neck with a pointed end. “A war hasn’t even begun and you’ve beaten a young maiden. Do you really think that have you a chance of walking out alive,” a voice said. “I dare you to say the word “demon” again, Ser Marrow.”

All their eyes turned to Aemond, who was looking down, gazing at you.

Though your eyes nearly dwindled, you heart beat pounded against the cage in your chest at the sight of him.

“Aemond, what are you doing here?” Alicent asked, rushing to his side, tugging the upper sleeve of his leathered jacket.

“I was only here to defend her,” Aemond answered with a droned hum. “After all, she saved my dear sister,” Aemond said coolly without averting gaze away from Ser Marrow, though given the exception of looking towards you ever so benign.

“Get back out in the hall, Aemond. This is no fight of yours; Ser Marrow must stand down and leave from the Red Keep,” Alicent said, frantic.

But Aemond ignored her, deepened the blade. “If you touch her again, there will be war.”

Everyone held their breath as they watch Aemond, his cautions ingrained into their minds.

“Aemond,” Alicent hissed, nudging him.

Aemond lowered his blade, and as soon as he did, Ser Marrow rushed towards you with his fist high up, but the sword cleaved Marrow’s head into two, leaving the guards already held their swords to disarm Aemond, as the table clanged loud; one guard bled from his head; Aegon slammed the guard down from trying to stab Aemond on his blind side, and held a short sword; the blade’s tip scraped the guard’s cheek.

“I wouldn’t do it again if I were you,” Aegon said to the guard and caught sight of you with a faint smirk on his wine-stained lips.

Prince Daemon lazily made his way to the crowd to retrieve Rhaenyra as the guards collected Ser Marrow’s body. But before that, Aemond said, “Feed Ser Marrow’s corpse to Vhagar. His service is no longer needed.”

Spectators stared in awe at the sudden events; not one utter a word of objection or sputter disagreement with the one-eyed dragon prince, as Aemond swept his sword clean with a cloth, not sparing a glance to anyone.

Once he sheathed his sword, Aemond advanced towards you and lifted you up, leaving everyone staggered at his proclamation for you.

Taglist: @galactict3a @toodlesxcuddles @daonenonlysandman @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @danika1994 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

@ aemondswifffeeeyyy - all rights reserved

[hiswrlds]

Ok so I needed to write this out at some point & with how the rpc is growing I need to specify some things about my portrayal, I was hoping I wouldn't need to do this cuz I'm really bad at explaining themes & stuff but it'd help anyone new get a vibe of things instead of just hoping they'd get it from checking out my blog ( my bad for that ), so here goes vibes & how it affects interactions . tw : l o n g & subjective to updates !

My writing for Sonic adopts years as silent killers, it focuses on passage of time as I hc the events of the games to have spanned over 8-10 years, with Sonic being 24 in his main current verse here . My writing also takes Everything seriously . And I tend to rewrite half the canon events in my head in a way that suits me ( & you, ultimately ) . "Forces" specifically is very important to my portrayal, as Sonic survives his 6 months of hell w/ Eggman & Infinite, just not unaltered . And then there is the whole war . Though reserved, warm & compassionate as he could ever be, Sonic's grown from a careless punk of a teenager into a refined, mellow adventurer who's much more genuine & wise about life how he handles a lot of situations . There are parts of him that won't ever change, but that doesn't mean he just comes out continuously unaltered after every adventure he's been through . He carries stories, loneliness & a lot of bittersweet memories, and darker ones too, but it's his steadfast resolve to remain kind & composed that keeps things together .

If your muse is games canon, especially part of the main cast, then it means they've been by Sonic's side since long & witnessed just as much along the way, that's why I prefer plotting & creating dynamics on our own a lot more than sticking to whatever Sega is doing . Please don't walk into my blog expecting a blue insufferable nuisance & I mean that in a derogatory way . My writing for him does not tie to any canon material besides the ones written on my page, Sonic can & will always be a bastard but he's not childish or "annoying", he's aloof, chill & 90% of the time he's off doing fuck all in god's knows where by himself . Threads & memes that just repeat the same theme of Oh Sonic is stupid or Oh Sonic is annoying make me feel so discouraged & unmotivated to write, he's a very nuanced & interesting character to write, don't force the fandom's or sega's picture of him onto my portrayal, they've mostly forgotten how to write him by now .

Don't get me wrong, your muse is allowed to call Sonic names however they please as long as it's properly in character for them to have such a perspective, I'm not going to get mad about such things . I just don't want these characteristics to be the focus of the dynamics between our muses when there are many, many other good things we can explore .

tldr ; learn about Sonic from me and not from canon media, don't baby or nerf him ( emotionally, mentally ), plot with me, form something special, I'm holding your hand .