#(well actually I don't play them anymore but I did lose)

[bobzora]

acheron so good she makes me want to complete gold and gears to unlock erudition blessings

[buckgasms]

Hey, hi, hello! 🤍

First, I want to say that I've been following along with your stories for a while now (you're one of the first people I followed when I started my Tumblr!), and I'm so happy to send you a little request if that's okay! I saw that you reblogged a prompt list, so here I am sending in my own for our sweet Bucky 🥰

I'm wondering what magic you will create with the prompt ''Finding their partner's sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them." 👀

If it's not sparking anything for you, it's okay, and you can ignore my request! 🤍

Hello my love! Thank you so much for your support, for this ask and for playing the prompt game with me ❤️ I'm so honoured that you've been following me at all.

Sorry this took longer than expected because I have done this sort of story before so I wanted to do something a bit new and it took me a while to think of a good idea....

But now I think I have a good idea. It's fairly off topic but I hope you will forgive me. It certainly did spark something lol 🤣

I hope it's ok that I set this in the Bunny and Clyde story because they are so unhinged and I love them...

Kisses 😘

Also, heavy, filthy smut ahead. Just be warned.

"What the hell is this?"

You dashed into the walk in wardrobe that Bucky was currently in to find him holding a white paper bag and an huge, like absolutely enormous, double ended dildo.

You descended into a fit of giggles, wheezing as you tried to speak as his face went from scowl to amusement as you tried to compose yourself.

"Oh my god" you moaned as you finally calmed down, and took the offending item from his grasp, waggling it around as he chuckled. "I got it from that shop we go to. I took Wanda and we got some freebies..."

He smiled peering into the bag before looking back at the appendage. "Was that a freebie?" He said, sounding impressed at the generosity of the shop.

"No, I bought this one for me..." You balance on the knife edge of pissing him off, took a breath and dived headfirst. "You know, just in case you can't keep up with me anymore. Sometimes I need something a little...bigger."

He chuckled darkly. "Ah ok Bunny, well why don't you show me hmm?" You went to protest but found his hands pulling you out to the bedroom and tossing you on the bed.

"Gone all shy huh?" He smirked as you waited on the bed and you giggled a little, sitting up and crawling towards him. "Was only a little joke Bucky, you know I don't want anyone else but you. Your big, perfect cock is all I ever want."

"Tough." He said flatly before pushing you back so your flomped down on the mattress. He wrapped a silk rope around one ankle and secured it to the bed, quickly securing your other on before you could escape.

He removed your skimpy underwear with a gentle bit firm tug and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Buckkyy" you whined as you tested the strength of his ties.

"Use it..." He said, tossing the toy onto the bed next to you, "or lose it" he said palming his cock through his trousers. You giggled but hesitated, feeling exposed and unsure. "But I want you to do it Bucky" you whined again and spread your legs a little wider for him.

He leaned over, gripping your cheeks tightly and turning your head to look at him. "Do as your fucking told." His free hand landed swats to your soaked pussy and thighs as you squealed in his embrace. "You need more or you gonna do what I say hmm?"

You groaned in defeat as he grinned, pressing a final kiss to your cheek before leaving you, taking a seat on the chair at the end of the bed to watch your performance.

💟

It had only been 20 minutes at most but you were a wreck.

You had done your darnedest to enjoy yourself but once again you had been bested by the master. Bucky sat, looking almost bored as you choked yourself on the rubber cock, making it messy and slick to use on yourself.

You teased and wriggled to insert the toy and whined a little as in pushed into you. It was actually no match to Bucky but you wanted to regain a little control if you could.

"Oof, so big..." You whined but it turned into a groan when he actually yawned at you. You flopped backwards but heard him tut at you, "didn't say stop bunny, keep going..."

He picked up the little bag and started rifling through it, looking at the little samples you had been given until one piqued his interest. "Sensation cream?" He read for a moment before leaving his seat and wandering over to you.

You sat up a little, hoping the punishment was over and he would actually play with you now. He showed you the packet but you shrugged indifferently. "The lady at the store said that was new. Supposed to heighten sensations, or numb it I can't remember..."

Sometimes you could be quite stupid.

Bucky grinned and ripped the top of the sample packet open. "Well let's find out shall we bunny?" You wiggled and protested but his arm was already propping your legs apart and spreading your folds open.

"A pea-sized amount it says" Bucky pondered before squeezing the entire packet onto his hand and smearing it all over your heat, making sure to get into every crease and fold. You growled and flopped down as he finished, leaving you to wash his hands.

He returned shortly and grinned. "Now we just have to wait 5 minutes or so bunny and we'll know for sure."

"What are you going to do then?"

"I haven't decided yet..."

💟

After a few moments you realised you were now completely numb. Bucky watched in amazed pleasure as he ran his finger over your folds to little reaction. He rubbed harder, even pinched your little clit, but nothing.

He chuckled and leaned down, settling himself between your legs as you whined. He started off rubbing slowly, little circles, then to and fro. You knew he was there but you had no pleasureable sensations to enjoy. Then he pinched and pulled at you, as your pussy grew puffier and redder under his actions. The a firm swat. He glanced up checking you had no reaction.

He didn't want to over do it and hurt you, but my god he was having fun. He'd alternate between all his actions until your pussy was glowing and soaked. "My god your cunt looks pretty right now..." He said softly before squeezing your lower lips together and spreading them wide.

You were in misery. You had wailed and cried about how unfair it was. That you wanted to feel it and everything else under the sun, but he wasn't to be swayed. You lay on the bed, sweaty and pouty. His favourite kind of bunny.

Bucky left your pussy briefly, stopping only to press kisses to your cheeks, lick away tears and tell you what a good bunny you were. "Taking it so well baby, you keeping up with me huh?" You rolled your eyes and growled. He never let anything go!

Moments later he was climbing on top of you, pressing his red, leaking cock against your folds and stomach. You would be able to feel him fucking you at least, you figured in your mind, but Bucky was just too smart for you.

He pressed your favourite vibrator into your hands and guided you to hold it on your numb button. Bucky then adjusted so the head of the toy sat under his cock, just in front of his heavy balls.

"I'm gonna use my little bunny's favourite toy now....oh don't worry baby, you can come as much as you like, I don't mind one bit..."

He grinned as the toy buzzed to life. You watched him grind and groan above you as you desperately tried to chase your own orgasm but no matter how hard you pressed, how much you wiggled, nothing happend.

"Bucky I caaaan't" you sobbed as he growled above you, smiling down in his lust filled haze he turned it up higher. "Oh fuck" he choked as his body buckled a little. You watched with desire as his stomach muscles tensed and his hands worked on himself before coming all over your stomach.

It was torture, and he never once relented. He repeated the action again, leaving another mess over your frazzled body, leaving you still desperately chasing your high to no avail.

After recovering from his second high he scooted round and placed your head on his thick thigh, grabbing the vibrator from you to inspect the scene.

"Bunny what a fucking mess..."

And you were. Your stomach was covered in thick cum, your arousal was smeared all over your thighs and cunt and your pussy was swollen and glowing. You too were a mess in your mind, sobbing and babbling for him.

To bring you a little relief he shushed you and guided his sensitive cock into your mouth, hushing your thoughts and giving you a little focus. He hissed through his teeth at your harsh sucking, but managed to soothe you down to just gentle sucks as you kept his cock warm.

Grabbing the sample packet again he read further, wondering how long this would last until his eyes widened:

"After 20 minutes, you and your partner will feel the enhanced power of our new Tingle Formula™ bringing your body back to reality, and off to new peaks of pleasure..."

He wondered what that would look like until he noticed your sucking had become more intense and your lower half was twitching a little. He leaned forward and ran a investigative finger through your folds. You suddenly wailed and tried to clench your legs together, hindered by the bindings.

Removing himself gently from you me moved back around to your heat. Stroking your legs and thighs to soothe your feelings of loss.

"Bucky.... Bucky I feels...I can feel...oh my god"

You panted and writhed on the bed as he blew a cool stream of air on your abused heat. You cried out and tried to get away but he chuckled and blew harder. You couldn't help it, it felt so good, so sensitive. "Please Bucky, I'm gonna, it's... I'll..."

"You gonna come just from that? You my little birthday cake bunny? Aren't you embarrassed bun bun, you really that sensitive?"

The protest died in your throat as he blew and your walls clenched painfully around nothing. Your stimulated pussy pushed one step too far. You cried out for him, for god, for anything.

He leaned over, focusing your gaze on him with a look of seriousness on his handsome features.

"Look at me bunny, look at me... I gotcha. Gonna take care of you now huh?" His nose trailed along yours before he captured your lips in a hungry kiss.

"You think a toy can do this? You think anyone can do this to you? Bring you to this special place?" You shook your head and sobbed returning his kisses sloppily as he claimed you.

"That's right bunny... Just me. Only me. Now I'm gonna use that sensitive little hole, because you hurt my feelings bun bun and you're gonna make it up to me right?"

You nod, feverishly.

"Good girl. I'll even let you use that toy, shall I put it in your ass baby? You want that?"

Your babbling suggests you have no brain power left to decide so Bucky just smiled, lovingly, plants a final kiss to your lips before leaving you to feel.... everything.

💟

It didn't take long to have you floating and shivering. Your sensitive body couldn't handle much but Bucky did his best to drag as many orgasms out of you until it hurt. The kind of hurt that makes your brain fuzzy and body shake.

He licked and sucked at you, like a man starved. His fingers curling inside as his tongue swirled around your swollen pearl. You came almost as soon as he seated himself in your heat, but found yourself climbing again as he pounded his hips. He even teased your puckered hole with your new toy, but just a brush against it had you coming again.

His fingers never ceased, rubbing and swatting until you peaked again. He groaned as your squeezed him like a vice, pushing him to empty his come into your overused heat. Your final orgasm came as he used your vibrator, ordering you to show him what a dirty fuck hole looks like. He growls as his release his pushed out at the most intense of your orgasms.

💟

Finally he unties you, throws everything else to the floor and crawls over you, wrapping you up in his arms. He wraps his whole body around you, supporting your shivering frame and keeping you warm.

Soft kisses are pressed to your damp skin and praises are cooed into your ear as you grip at the pillow. "My good girl. So perfect. So pretty. You did so good bunny."

Praises are continued as he carries you off to the bathroom gently carresing your body with soft cloths and warm water. You shiver and giggle and whimper all at once, clinging to his strong body feeling overwhelmed and yet so satisfied.

After a while of quiet praising and kissing Bucky takes you off to the bedroom again and into the walk in wardrobe where he finds some soft pyjamas to dress you in. More kisses follow until he is distracted by the little white bag again.

"Wonder what else is in here" he muses but you just groan and pull him back for a kiss, tossing the bag as far as you possibly can.

[eclipseberrycake]

Poly! MoonBerryCake x Reader Pt. 2

Y'all came outta NOWHERE- Hi <3

I love these guys sm so when people started asking for more I was like "...Twist my arm okay-". Like I did not need to be convinced don't y'all worry.

Anyway, here are my tags plus shoutout to that anon who sent me the request! I sure do do requests especially ones like that <3

OG Inspo: @huneybeen

Divider Credit: @sister-lucifer

And @unaecsmr .

And that one anon too!

I hope this lives up to expectations <3

Content Warning: Slight descriptions of violence. Puns.

☁ Happy holiday update guys <3 The first run I played all I talked about was how Twisted! Rudie's run looks like he's hitting the griddy.

☁ Anyway, what better way to celebrate than more MoonBerryCake?

☁ Now, you all don't really define you're relationship per say, after the ending of part one, which you can find -> Here!

☁ You all sort of fall into some sort of rhythm after the fact though.

☁ I didn't spend a lot of time on Sprout because I wasn't feeling well, so I feel like I owe it to him!

☁ Sprout can especially recognize the dynamics at play. As much as he loathes admitting it, being with you three losers (Affectionately) makes him happiest. He can't possibly pick one.

☁ So while you and Astro and Cosmo all stay up at night, worrying about budding feelings and crushing the hearts of the others and feeling your own eyes well up at the thought of gaining one, but losing the others, Sprout is SOUND asleep. He is drooling on his pillow. He is snoring loud enough Pebble hid under coal for protection (Across the complex).

☁ Because he knows one thing for certain. He's got two hands, one chest and a dream. He knows what he wants from life now. And he's going to get it, mark his words.

☁ He knows he's over and done with it, devoting himself to the three of you completely after that reunion from that failed run.

☁ You had been downed long enough you had finally argued your bed-ban be lifted while he himself had threatened a solo-style jail break into the elevators if they tried keeping him chained once more.

☁ He had to admit, the two of you made an incredibly stubborn team and if he had any interest in debate, he'd probably use you. As it stands, he decides to keep you around anyway because someone's gotta tell Brightney he's not healing her and it ain't gonna be him.

☁ The retrieval run was one he knew you had been dreading for awhile, all three of you actually, as this was by far one of the more dangerous Twisteds. That being said, stepping into the elevator made his entire being just shiver at the atmosphere surrounding them.

☁ He didn't like it. He needed to fix it. Especially his trio. Yeah, his. Fight him for it. He's already called dibs. You can't.

☁ Astro's eyes are locked onto your form as you stretch your legs, holding your ankle to your butt for a few seconds before switching. You're mindlessly listening to Goob. Sprout knows Goob rambles when he's nervous and he's rambling faster than Sprout can keep up. Cosmo himself is burrowed into Astro's shoulder, hiding his face in the fur neckline as if refusing to see what'll come of the run.

☁ Sprout doesn't blame him. His memories from being a twisted are blurry at best, but even he can remember Pebble's twisted form. The snarls that rang out as he achieved top speed. He was fast. Impossibly so. Faster than any one of them.

☁ But you were bound and determined to get them all back. Every. Single. One of them.

☁ The thought makes him bite at his lip as he huffs. He had chosen Teagan's trinket for the sole reason of having that heal ready to go no matter what. The one relief he had was that Cosmo wouldn't be so alone in this anymore. He knew Cosmo had a habit of spreading himself too thin, especially when it came to healing you or Astro, and the thought made his chest bristle.

☁ No more. He'd be there for the worst case scenarios. While he wasn't the fastest toon out there he still was fast. He was fast and could run. He had stamina. He'd be assed before extracting anything worth a damn, but he knew damn well how to distract well enough to buy you or Goob a few minutes.

☁ Nodding to himself, he placed a hand on your shoulder as the elevator stilled, ending the time they all had to prepare. "You got this, bud. We'll be cheering you on the entire way."

☁ You snorted at the nickname, taking a deep breath. "Bud? Like a flower bud I'm guessing? Where did that come from?"

☁ He smirked at the question, watching the large gears begin to slowly turn as the door slowly opened. "Well, when a mommy strawberry and a daddy strawberry love each other berry much-"

☁ He nearly cackled at Cosmo's affronted shout of his name while Astro boo'ed the pun. You gave a soft chuckle before shaking your head, shooting him a look. "Unbe-leaf-able." You scoffed good naturedly before taking off with Goob by your side.

☁ This time Sprout joined Astro's boos. It was only fun when he did it. Ask Fin.

☁ Don't ask him.

☁ Running off, it feels almost familiar the way he and Cosmo stick together, Astro splitting off to use Vee's trinket quickly to ease the pressure on you and Goob. He watched Cosmo's back and by the time that machine was finished, the other's were as well. Astro met back up with them halfway back to elevator, giving both him and Cosmo a once over before nodding them inside and waiting for you.

☁ And Goob, I guess.

☁ It's almost prideful, the way Sprout watches Astro's power light up the ground below him, fluttering around yours and Goob's feet as the three of you quickly make your way into the elevator with it slamming shut behind you.

☁ The thick tension is back and heavier than a bad pun can fix. So Sprout does what he does best really. He waits for his trio to be done browsing the shop (Like the heavens blessed the run, Dandy was there with the serum on a pillow and both a bandage and box of chocolates). Cosmo is just short of tapes needed for a band, only to light up as you pass him some you swiped while distracting.

☁ He's quick to wrap his arms around you, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek with a quick nuzzle, leaving you just dazed enough you're staggering as he swipes the heal. Astro is behind you with a small chuckle, ensuring you don't fall before handing over his own stack of tapes and taking the box of chocolates as Goob pays for the serum.

☁ Sprout has no idea where all these tapes are coming from and is almost a little pissed. If it was anyone else, he would've been. Except Goob. Though, Goob paid for the one thing everyone agreed upon buying so even then he's hard pressed to stay mad. Still. Everyone's heals are on thin ice until further notice.

☁ Except his three of course.

☁ By the time the three of you are done and Dandy is preparing to disappear, he's already rounding you into a group, checking every single one of you for so much as a scratch.

☁ When nothing comes back, he turns to rubbing at your already dirt stained cheek with his glove, clicking his tongue before licking the pad of it only to return it to scrub at the patch of dirt, despite your protests. Glisten's laughing in the back, along with Cosmo and Goob. Even Astro has a humored grin on his face, but oh-ho. Sprout isn't done.

☁ No, once he's satisfied, he reaches and grabs Cosmo before the swiss roll can run and repeats the process.

☁ Astro's only saving grace is the ding of the elevator. But Sprout vows vengeance. Oh, vow it he does.

☁ The next few floors flow smoothly, even if the tense atmosphere remains an ever present reminder of the responsibility on your and Goob's shoulders. You carry it with every move you make, especially cautious of the Twisteds you lead to ensure you're in top condition for the big dog.

☁ I didnt think I had this many puns in me omg

☁ By the time footsteps are echoing outside the door, Cosmo and Sprout both have enough med kits and bands to choke a horse, with everyone standing at full health. Astro himself had a bottle of pop for emergencies and a handful of smoke bombs so he could get in and out after giving you and Goob a boost and minimizing the risk. You and Goob both have quite a few things of chocolate and bottles of pop, speed candy in your palms as you both down it with more waiting.

☁ When the elevator opens, you gave them all a sad wave before taking off much faster than you normally do, quickly finding and distracting Pebble as Goob takes the other three in the opposite direction. Everyone knows the plan. They had gone over it several times in preparation for this moment.

☁ You were to be left alone to focus on distracting. Absolutely no exceptions save for the healers or Astro when the time arose. They would get in, get out and between you and Goob, one of you would pull Pebble's attention away long enough one of you could stick him.

☁ Sprout didn't like it personally, grabbing Astro and pulling him into his chest as he hid behind a box while you and Pebble passed, a rotten, no good feeling settling into the pit of his stomach.

☁ He waited until he couldn't hear either of you anymore before letting go of Astro, who gave him a thankful nod. Sprout returned it, giving a soft smile before both were looking over at the sound of a gasp.

☁ Cosmo was knelt on the ground, fingers stained black. Immediately assuming the worst, Sprout nearly screeched as he grabbed for the med-kit as Astro was grabbing Cosmo, searching for the source of the injury.

☁ "No, no, it's not me!" Cosmo shook his head, pushing away both Astro and the med-kit. "They've been hit." He continued, looking down the way you came from.

☁ Sprout and Astro's eyes followed the same direction, the former swallowing tightly. Nodding, Sprout took a step in that direction, fingers already heating up as his own power sang in his veins, only for the lights to flicker red as the last machine finished.

☁ "Get them at elevator." Astro's voice cut through, grabbing him through his blanket and tugging him in the needed direction. "We'll be there if something goes wrong."

☁ Looking back, that should've been a warning.

☁ The last few seconds of panic were always hectic. He knew this. But on a retrieval run? It was so much worse.

☁ They had all mad it back to the elevator, save for you and Goob. Goob was right on schedule, loosing the other twisteds somewhere they wouldn't bother you or anyone near elevator and skid to stop right beside where Astro and the healers were waiting, looking at the doorway they instructed you to come through. It came a clear shot for all of them to hit you should the need be, either by a heal or a shot of adrenaline.

☁ The feeling in Sprout's gut jumped and he understood why. As you appeared a feeling of uniform dread and panic split over the group. You're side was oozing ichor as you hit the doorway, absolute terror written across your features as you ducked a set of jaws that just barely missed you, sinking into the wood and crunching.

☁ That could've been you. The thought made Sprout shout as you took off towards them. You reached for your hip, tearing off the serum and throwing it at Goob, who caught it. You were out of pops and out of chocolate and the realization hit them within seconds.

☁ Goob's arms shot out just as Pebble lunged. None of them could've moved fast enough. They could only watch as Pebble's jaws bit into you side, making you scream out in both alarm and pain as tears sprung to your eyes. A chorus of shots came in a cacophony of noise.

☁ Sprout shot forward just as Pebble let out an ear piercing howl. His own arms scooped you against him as you sobbed, ichor staining his chest and scarf as he ran back to where Cosmo and Astro were waiting, equally as panicked as he felt.

☁ Goob grabbed Pebble, turning tail and just making it into the frantic elevator as it slammed shut.

☁ It was a blur from there. Cosmo's hands rushed for the med kits as Astro pumped your body with enough adrenaline and stamina to keep going. Sprout's own hands were a flurry as he used the mass of tapes he hoarded to trade their worth for life force. While normally he just infused it into the treats he kept on hand, this time he threaded it directly into the wound, even as you grew impressively colder.

☁ They needed to get back to med-bay and fast.

☁ Glisten got you all back, shouting for the others to clear the way as both you and Pebble were rushed into med-bay. It was a long night from there, all three watching and waiting for you to give some indication of being okay.

☁ Sprout never let the other two leave his sight for long after that and knew then and there this was it for him. He never wanted to feel this way again, but that contrasted so heavily with the simple fact that you weren't actually his. None of them were.

☁ But he wouldn't let that remain. That's right. Sprout gets you all together. Sucks to b you guys, he's never letting any of you live it down.

☁ After that night, he works damn near tirelessly to get the dense trio you all make to work with him rather than against each other.

☁ But it's hard. Uber hard. You're all just so...dumb. He says. With affection. None of you seemed to think yourselves capable of love! Like. What kind of dumbassery?

☁ Cosmo keeps thinking his advances are just friendly, Astro refuses to believe anything nice about him is true and you keep thinking it's another smart quip of his and he doesn't mean it.

☁ He'd kiss you all stupid for such thoughts but he fears that's not possible and he hasn't even gotten to kiss you yet.

☁ So, after a few weeks he does what he always does when stressed.

☁ He bakes.

☁ He just like me fr.

☁ He's angrily mixing a dough for those cookies the two of you ate some time ago, groaning all about everything that's wrong with his life currently as if the poor dough is at fault. "Hopeless in love they say. Oh, they're hopeless all right. And who paid the consequences? ME! I was making stupid puns for them. Puns. Me. OF ALL THINGS-"

☁ My brother in crust is going through it. He goes on and on about all he wants to do it cuddle and kiss and date the three of you. but do any of you make his life easy? No. Why would you. That would be too nice for dear old Sprout Seedly. Things can never just be black and white.

☁ "And another thing-" Sprout's shouting as he dumps the dough onto the floured counter, turning to the sink to drop the bowl into the waiting soapy water only for it to clatter on the ground as he's immediately clamping his jaw shut.

☁ "...You're supposed to be in bed." Is all he manages.

☁ You blink at him, all sleepy doe eyes and messy bed head before chuckling, holding a lazing Pebble in your arms. The rock had taken quite the liking to you and Sprout was man enough to admit that he was in fact jealous. "So are you."

☁ "I'm bakin'." He shoots back, turning back to the dough immediately and forgetting about the bowl as his cheeks light aflame.

☁ "At 3 AM?" You tease, stepping closer. He doesn't turn to look, but hears the sound of the bowl being dropped into the sink and Pebble being set down onto the ground. The pup whines, runs in a circle before trots away to lay in either his dog bed or burrow back into your bed. You're body presses against his back as your arms wrap around his waist, your bony chin laying on his back.

☁ "Yes at 3 AM. Someone ate all the cookies and didn't fill the jar." He spits, but there's not venom as he rolls out the dough. You're unbearably silent and he doesn't like it. How much did you hear previously? "You're supposed to beresting."

☁ You hum, but don't move. He almost asks what you're thinking if only so he doesn't have to overthink about it when you speak up again. "You sounded so...sure."

☁ Sprout furrows his brows. "Of?"

☁ "Us. The four of us." You mumble with a heavy breath. "Like-...Like that's all there is too it."

☁ "That is all there is too it. If we all wanna date each other, I don't see the problem." Sprout grunts, grabbing one of the cookie cutters he had set aside. It sinks into the dough under his weight just the way it should and he quickly picks up a rhythm.

☁ You're silent once more, but you don't move. He's done with nearly all the dough, rolling out the last bit for the final round of cookie cutting, when you finally move, lips tracing his spine. "Do you want that?"

☁ Sprout stops, blinks and looks down.

☁ "I think i wanted it since we've met and only now the rest of me finally caught up."

☁ That's where the other two find you later. You're in an apron with Sprout behind you, hands moving with yours as you ice a cookie. There are a few off to the side, obvious examples from where Sprout must've shown you how to decorate...Astro's face once more onto the cookie.

☁ Astro uses a star shard to pick one up, bringing it closer to him and Cosmo only to guffaw at the state of it. Cosmo snorts only to clap a hand over his mouth when you two look over. To their surprise, you and Sprout only grin. The icing is dropped as you run over, or as much as you can before all three are yelling at you to "Take it easy for Dandy's sake!"

☁ You grumble but do as told.

☁ "We made cookies." You explain, Sprout nodding behind you as if corroborate the story.

☁ "With my face?" Astro deadpans, making Cosmo snicker.

☁ "Some have Cosmo's." You explain, only to wince. "I did those ones though, so they aren't Sprout level."

☁ "I'm sure they're perfect." Cosmo cuts in, making you smile. It's one that says everything they need to know. They're probably awful, but that's what'll make them so good.

☁ "They're an offering." Sprout pipes in, setting an extra piping bag down. "Date us and we-...I'll bake you cookies." You nod eagerly at this proposition even if both Cosmo and Astro are wondering if they were the ones in fact mauled by Pebble and hit their heads on the way down.

☁ "...Date...us?" Astro cautions, almost too nervous to do so as he glances at the cookie the star shard is still holding.

☁ "Me and bud over there. You two and us two." Sprout nods resolutely even if nerves make him feel like he's going to vomit. "Like all four of us."

☁ There's silence before Cosmo is snorting into his hand. Then he's laughing. Then he's cackling. He had moved just a bit, holding one of the cookies you decorated. It's a mess of smudged icing, piled on high enough it'll overpower any taste the cookie has. It makes him laugh so hard he crouches over, even if your affronted complaints die into your own giggles.

☁ By the time Cosmo can breath again, he wipes an eye with his hand. "Everyone's so creative." He sighs, turning to look at you with a grin. "I would love to. Even if you're cookie decorating needs some work."

☁ Before he knows it, all eyes are on Astro as he blinks. A part of him is screaming all sorts of question after question ramming around his brain about schematics and the others opinions and he's gonna need a much bigger bed because he can't do cuddle shifts. If he's cuddling one of you, he's cuddling all of you.

☁ Looking at the cookie with his own face, he knows his answer before he even really has to think about it, grinning as he laughs, nodding his head.

☁ After that the rest of the cookies are decorated and stored, dishes left to dry before Cosmo and Astro are dragging both you and Sprout back to bed, practically pinning you in place as you two get the rest you missed out on earlier.

☁ For once, in a long time, no one is haunted by nightmares and the twisteds seem too far away to care at the moment.

☁ Even Pebble joins the cuddle pile with a wagging tail, pleased to see his packmates happy.

[jiskblr]

AlphaStar and OpenAI Five were unambiguous failures, where they demonstrated that they were incapable of beating humans on a level playing field with the key complexities of the game included. I will never stop banging this drum.*

AlphaStar was winning only on the strength of superhuman micro, and even then demonstrated substantial weakness when playing as and against Zerg, whose optimal builds in high-level SC2 are highly reactive, requiring large course adjustments based on the results of scouting the opponent's base to see what they're planning. Its strategies were static - essentially doing the same thing every game - and this is extremely exploitable against an opponent who is aware it may be taking place.

The OpenAI Five's gimped version of DOTA forbade stealth heroes, and more importantly forbade wards, which are approximately as key to DOTA strategy as tracking control of the center is to chess. It removed all of the possibility that the opponents had knowledge of you which you did not know about (and vice versa), as well as removing almost all cases in which hidden-to-you information affected what moves the enemy had available to them.

The problem of hidden information is huge. Poker's hidden information is one thing - moves they make are better or worse ideas based on their hidden information, but all moves are possible regardless. The more advanced form of hidden information where it affects their options is a problem no one has yet solved as far as I know, though if they're making progress on Hearthstone that may finally be changing.

I forget the technical term so call it 'active hidden info'. As an example, the position of Riki is unknown to the enemy team. If he's nearby, he has the option of ambushing you; if he's far away, he does not**. There's also a 'meta hidden info', where knowledge the other team believes is hidden may in fact be known to you, and your hidden information is that they have failed to keep that info secret. Again, a DOTA example: If you have placed wards in key locations, you may see the opponents travel, and therefore know something about where they are, without them knowing in turn that you know this. These are both major parts of DOTA strategy - one of the most common beginner errors is to underinvest in wards, i.e. knowledge, because knowledge of where and when the enemy is close affects how riskily you can play, and many risk/reward tradeoffs go from highly favorable if you know you won't be interrupted to highly unfavorable if it's likely you're going to have company, which is known as a 'gank' ("gang-up kill"). (Advanced maneuvers include tempting the opponent into a gank by acting like you think you're safe, when in fact you know you're unsafe but have your own hidden allies close by, to 'counter-gank'.)

To my knowledge, no AI has yet demonstrated competence at managing or using active or meta hidden info. Anywhere, on any seriously-complex game.

Now, AI has come a long-ass way from 2019. I'd put extremely good odds on it being possible to make a truly world-class AI for Starcraft II, and slightly worse but still very good odds on DOTA, if the same big shops made another attempt this year. Call it 85% and 70%. But they haven't succeeded yet and it is a mistake to treat them as having succeeded four years ago.

And this is very relevant to the ask, because Magic is about 90% active hidden information. If you want to make an AI which can play Magic competitively with inadequate handling of active hidden info, your options are limited to all-in aggro and goldfish combo; either trying to win so quickly that they will lose unless they have all the correct answers, or to win with a combination that ignores the opponent entirely ('treats them as a goldfish') and interacts only via counterspells to counter their counterspells and ensure your combo goes off correctly. That's going to be an obviously flawed player that professionals could wipe the floor with regularly.***

Can that problem be fixed now? I don't want to rule anything out, but it comes pretty close to demanding a detailed world model of all the realistic possibilities for what they might have and the actions they're likely to take based on that information, which is, I think, a literally exponentially-larger space for them to be tracking, and which would therefore take at least a large polynomial increase in training time and a (probably smaller) polynomial increase in the size of the trained model. So, I don't know, give them a 30% chance they could do it now? Maybe 35%? But definitely not better than even.

*Unless and until they try again and actually win this time

**Obviously in the actual game there are ways to move around quickly, so 'close/far' is not the real distinction. Advanced ML game AIs have no problem with this kind of thing, so let's agree to ignore it as irrelevant and use the one-word category name rather than 'close-or-teleport-capable-to-near-you' vs. 'far-and-incapable-of-teleporting-near-you'.

***Someone who can win local serious tournaments (FNM) can usually manage a 30% win rate at the Pro Tour, IIRC. This isn't good enough to make the final day, though some FNM-tier players will usually beat the odds and make it through. The best player in the world (probably still Jon Finkel) playing FNMs will manage around an 80% win rate. I'd expect that a current powerful AI which had only a rudimentary grasp of active hidden info could manage a 40% win rate at a Pro Tour.

Do you think it would be possible with current technology to create an AI that could take any random MtG deck and, without any specific programming/training on that particular deck, play it competently?

I think it's possible in principle, in the sense that if OpenAI or Google Deepmind decided they really wanted to prioritize this, they could . . . probably accomplish it?

I'm basing this hunch mostly on past successes on complicated games with lots of different mechanics (OpenAI Five, AlphaStar), and the fact that overall AI capabilities have come a long way in the last few years, largely due to more powerful computers.

That said, it would require a lot of legwork specific to TCGs and MtG which no one has yet done or even attempted, as far as I know. Most of the published research on TCG-playing AI is about much simpler games.

(The most relevant thing I could find when I looked for papers was this one about reaching competitive performance at Hearthstone. But that was only published earlier this year, and Hearthstone is much simpler than MtG.)

[notmorbid]

all-night pharmacy.

dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.

you're so alive, it's scary.

being a person doesn't come naturally for me.

what's the deal with this place?

you are my best and my worst friend.

are we horrible people?

i like the idea of having someone to come home to.

i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.

these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.

the less you know about my life, the better.

everyone here is a liar and a cheat.

you deserve to have a life of your own.

a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.

all relationships are transactional.

no one should have that much power over you.

it isn't too late to come back.

you're uninvited from my birthday party.

i love you, but you're such a cunt.

who do you think you are?

forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.

i know you're in there. let me in.

jesus. why do you have a knife?

what happened last night?

it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.

maybe i'm not the mothering type.

i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.

i need a break from feeling so much all the time.

sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.

whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.

i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.

this is the most i can imagine for myself.

if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.

you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.

all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.

it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.

i've never had a day of rest in my life.

i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.

you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.

i can't play house anymore.

never say that name in front of me.

to you, other people are always the problem.

you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.

want to make fifty bucks?

the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.

you don't think we'll get caught?

our loyalty is to story, not reality.

just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.

i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.

our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.

speaking our fears aloud won't save us.

one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.

i try not to think about my life at all.

a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.

your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.

boundaries? i don't know her.

i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.

you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.

think of me as a spiritually connected friend.

i know liars. you don't strike me as one.

you have iconically poor judgment.

has anyone ever told you about your past lives?

you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.

friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.

i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.

you make me want to feel things again.

criticism is still a cousin of attention.

you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.

i know you crave being told what to do.

you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.

you have desires. act on them.

bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?

i thought i had quit you.

my favorite. how did you know?

i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.

how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.

i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.

sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.

you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.

that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.

where will all the animals go in the rapture?

a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.

my little saint.

time passes more slowly as a sober person.

you'd better not pull away from me now.

there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.

you wear your emotions like a name tag.

your resting face frightens me.

how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?

i need you to just be here with me.

our dead deserve to see you happy.

i like the idea of being marked by you.

i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.

i know what i saw.

i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.

i can't believe you're mine.

nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.

you're cute when you're freaked out.

sex is supposed to be unsettling.

there are things i need to atone for.

you can't go back like it's nothing.

i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.

___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.

count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.

banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.

i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.

you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.

you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.

i've been reading about intergenerational curses.

resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.

anything you say stays between us.

i can't decide if i like you.

most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.

will it get easier?

hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.

i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.

in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.

why are you here? where have you been?

how did you know i'd come looking for you?

you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.

i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.

you were supposed to protect me.

there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.

i wouldn't have looked for me, either.

we belong to ourselves now.

you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.

when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.

survival is provisional.

[entitled-fangirl]

Chance. (P3)

Aemond Targaryen x reader; Aegon x Wife!reader

Summary: the people grow restless with no king. The reader is determined to find out Aemond's motives.

A/n: A short little chapter to get us to Sunday when the next episode releases!

Part 1, 2, 4

Masterlist

...........................................................

"Ser Hightower!" Y/n called out as she walked down the stairs to the courtyard. 

Gwayne looked away from Alicent, immediately moving his attention to her, "My queen. How may I be of assistance?"

"I wondered if, time permitting, we may speak?"

Alicent tilted her head, eyeing the girl closely. 

Gwayne nodded. "Even if time does not permit, I shan't leave the queen wanting. I am yours."

Alicent noted the smile that grazed her brother's face. She huffed and walked off, not bothering with a goodbye. 

Y/n sighed, "You were at the battle, fighting valiantly, I assume."

He nodded and spoke with his usual soft voice, "Indeed, I was."

"What happened?"

His head tilted and a curious look came to his eye, "I'm lost, I'm afraid.  Ask me plainly, my queen. I don't keep secrets, you know."

She looked over to Alicent and Cole speaking across the courtyard before looking back to the male Hightower. "Who truly harmed Aegon?"

His brows furrowed and he looked away for a moment, "I didn't get a look at it. I was too concerned with the fighting on the ground."

She sighed and nodded, "I had figured you would have been."

"You suspect foul play?"

She shrugged, "It's all foul play, ser."

He let out a soft chuckle, "You're right in that." He shifted his body weight in thought, "I know you're not looking for allies-"

"-I am, actually."

His brows furrowed again. "Ah. Well, I am not much, but I will be your eyes in the bannermen if you wish."

She smiled, "I'd like that very much, ser. I thank you, as does the crown."

"Your thanks is enough."

…

"You're really to go?" She asked with a frown. 

Aemond smirked, "I am needed to win this battle. Vhagar listens to no one else."

She sighed, "Aegon is furious with you, you know."

He shrugged, "So be it. I care not what he thinks anymore."

"That's your king, Aemond. Be careful with who you speak such things to."

"I am," he stated. "I'm speaking it to you, am I not?"

Her cheeks flushed, "Just don't get injured. Please. I wouldn't be able to sleep well at night if you did."

He grinned, "Promise."

…

"My queen, we must leave now!"

Her head shot up, "What? What's happened?"

…

"They mock me!" He growled.

"My love, they do not."

Aegon scoffed, "My brother and my hand makes plans without me. They do not ask me of anything."

"They mean it in good favor-"

"-What is good favor if it is not from your king!?"

She rubbed her forehead softly, "Perhaps let this one go, and reconvene when the battle is won."

"You've have me just let this go?"

"Drink some wine. Take a bath. Go see a whore. I dunno, Aegon."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, "I'm a lousy king, aren't I?"

"You're doing just fine."

"Why doesn't it feel like it then?"

She paused, unsure of what to say. 

Alicent walked in, and Y/n stood. She kissed Aegon's forehead, "Give it thought, my love. You're as fearsome as any of them."

She moved past Alicent with a glare.

…

"GET THE WOMEN TO THE WHEELHOUSE!"

Alicent grabbed Helaena's hand, helping drag her down the stairs. 

Y/n joined them not long after, leaving from a different door.

Surrounded by guards, the three were dragged through the rioting crowd, occasionally grabbed by the people.

"Tis the queen of fishes!"

Something was thrown, smacking Alicent in the face. She gasped, but was ushered further on.

Alicent's iron grip made her not lose Helaena, but Y/n was quickly lost. 

She disappeared in the crowd, pushed left and right in panic. 

She felt someone grab her chin and pull her forward. "You'll sleep with anyone with a crown, won't you, pretty girl?" The voice sneered. 

She whined out, closing her eyes as if it would will it away. 

Hands moved everywhere, one tugging at her dress, tearing it from her shoulder with a loud rip. 

Hot tears ran down her face, not stopping even when a guard found her again and pushed the others away. He paused for just a moment to access her, "My queen!"

Only then did she see the guard's wide eyes and a white hot pain moved to her cheek. 

She reached up, her fingers coming back with bright red blood. 

Black clouded her vision. 

..................................................

part 4

taglist: @p45510n4f4shi0n, @darktrashsoulbear, @vieenr0se, @pez-unicorn, @marlenees-world, @thatbabydeer

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, my insane theory that I was waiting for the episode to see if I'm right or not. This is a lot more from the business side of things than something actually plot-related. But the thing is, about a year ago, at some point during the s6-7 hiatus, I made a post about how I thought the show had written themselves into a corner when it comes to buddie basically because the stakes are too high (the post is here but please keep in mind I wrote this before Buck bi and thinking about the way fox dealt with them, and we have since found out something was supposed to happen in s4 and they were censored by fox and we are not dealing with that anymore, I will explain my thought process here tho). But basically, I thought that they were not gonna do buddie because the expectations around buddie were too high, and it was easier to play with their tension forever than getting them together.

Because the thing is, we are talking about a six plus seasons queer slowburn that already has a lot in canon, between Chris, the well, the shooting, the lightning, the fact that they are best friend partners, there's a lot at stake and the correct lead up can make it seem as if buddie has been planned when watching the whole show. And since buddie is already insane, buddie in a romantic setting would have to exceed expectations. There's also the way that since Buck and Eddie work together and are partners on the field, they would have to acknowledge buddie every episode they were both in, something that is not true for madney or bathena, so that means that at some level they would have to be okay with the show being known as the buddie show at some level. The way that buddie has the potential to be the first relationship of its kind, a queer multiseason network slowburn, means that there will be people who will watch the show because of buddie. I know I joke about how buddie will make 911 go down in television history, but it is true, buddie will be placed next to big television love stories, people will teach classes on buddie in film school, so they need to be okay with that focus on the relationship existing and potentially being the thing people talk about when thinking about the show. With season 6 knowledge, I thought that at best they would have buddie kiss in the last 10 minutes of the series finale just to say they did it because I did not believe that they would want to be forced to write buddie into every episode and deal with the external focus on them. Now, knowing that fox blocked Buck bi and with the way they didn't even let Oliver and Ryan stand next to each other, I believe fox was never gonna let buddie be what they could be.

We have different rules now. My thing there is the way that they would have to deal with the external focus on them and to acknowledge buddie every episode, right? Well, they set Oliver and Ryan lose last season, including paired, and they let them say all sorts of things, the I love you to the core, buddie wedding season 10, giving the people what they want, there's no competition for Eddie, Buck fills the space Shannon was support to have, every interview Oliver, Ryan or Tim do mentions buddie, so they clearly don't care if people discover the show through buddie, they seem to be leaning into it even. For example, the first video we got for s8 was a ryliver video. So that part is covered, they are fine with it. So that leaves us with the acknowledging buddie every episode. They are doing that. I think everyone knows I'm doing the buddie supercuts by now (if not you can find the ones that are done here), but I wrote a meta about this, something that happened in s7 that was not true in the previous seasons is the fact that buddie has at least one moment every single episode, 1 we had the whole partnership/co-parent thing, 2 we had the thing at the locker room, 3 we had them finishing each other sentences while moving around each other during the rescue, 4 and 5 I don't even need to say it, right, 6 we had the bachelor party, 7 we had the Buckley-Diaz family scene, 9 we had the kitchen scene, and 10 had all that partnership/co-parent thing again. So s7 proved that they don't care about writing buddie into every episode. 801 has a lot of buddie, my cut of the episode amounted to 11 minutes and 33 seconds, that's 27% of the episode, the only episode they have more than that is under pressure, which is saying something. 802 we also had some buddie squeezed in there even though the episode was about the plane. That was an Athena episode, but we still got buddie. So my whole thing with the post I made this morning was about the concept of them adding a buddie scene even though they started the episode physically separated. And Well, I'm gonna count this as my buddie shoutout. They were together on the plane, and we got that little look at the end.

I think, like Tim said in the interviews for s7, that they are trying to work a little buddie every episode because it is a core part of the show, and that is a way to get the audience used to having at least a little buddie every episode. And I think that's the biggest sign that something has shifted and buddie is cooking.

Anyway, yeah, that's the theory. If you read this I love you 🫶.

[captainsophiestark]

One Night Werewolf

Dick Grayson x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2024!

Requested by @bandshirts-andbooks! I had a different idea for the prompt originally, but this came to me in a flash and wouldn't let me go until I wrote it lol. Hope you enjoy!

Fandom: DC

Day Nine Prompt: "Don't listen to me, listen to them."

Summary: Game night is never a calm affair when Dick and his SO host all the Batkids for the evening.

Word Count: 1,486

Category: Fluff, Humor

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I leaned forward over my crossed legs on the couch, slowly moving in towards my boyfriend, Dick Grayson, until we were basically nose to nose. I stared into his deep blue eyes, just waiting for him to blink or flinch or otherwise give himself away. He didn't move, the faint, charming smile never once faltering.

"Don't listen to him! He's lying!"

The smile on Dick's face grew as I did my best to block out the shouting from his siblings. Everyone had been at Dick and I's apartment for a few hours now, since the two of us regularly hosted a little Batkids game night. We were deep into our sixth game of werewolf, and to say things were getting intense would be an incredible understatement.

"Baby," I said, my voice low and level as Dick and I continued our staring contest. "Are you lying?"

"Obiviously!" Tim shouted.

"I actually think I agree with Tim," Duke added.

"All you have to do is look at Stephanie!" Tim continued. His suggestion was met with outraged shouts, since Stephanie had been killed by the werewolves and wasn't technically allowed to influence the game anymore.

Dick just grinned. "I'm not lying, sweetheart. But if you're really that determined... or if you're not really a villager after all..." He shrugged. "Don't listen to me, listen to them. You guys have played it perfectly, if you're one of the werewolves. You've got Duke on your side now, he's all you need."

I closed my eyes and sighed, leaning back from Dick and uncrossing my legs as I flopped onto the pillows of the couch.

"If you're not the werewolf, why do you seem so okay with losing?" I cried. I didn't have to look at my boyfriend to know he was still smiling.

"Maybe I just love you, and I'm impressed with the game you're playing."

I huffed. I was a villager, which was my least favorite role to play. Especially with the Batfamily, who made it ten thousand times harder than normal to figure out who was lying, and about what.

Until this round, I'd been pretty confident that Tim was one of the werewolves. Everyone in the family was a good detective, but Tim more often than not took that deductive reasoning to a whole new level, which meant he usually got killed first when he wasn't a werewolf. Cass had been the first casualty of this game, which had immediately put the suspicion on Tim. We'd gone back and forth and played a few rounds without voting anybody out, until Dick had claimed to be the seer. Nobody in the game had contradicted him, but as Tim had pointed out, Stephanie seemed to be barely restraining herself from shouting a rebuttle.

Still, with her and the rest of this family, that didn't necessarily mean she was the seer. Last month, Jason had been correctly voted off as a werewolf, but managed to convince us all through facial expressions that he had been wrongly removed as the seer, and had played us all to a werewolf win.

I sighed, then finally sat up. Dick and I were still knee to knee on the couch, but I did my best to ignore it. Everyone in the room was staring at me, which worked pretty well as a distraction.

Dick and Jason were pulling for me to join them in voting out Tim. Dick claimed to be the seer, and said he'd seen that Tim was one of the werewolves. Tim continued to claim innocence, and had convinced Duke to join him in trying to vote out Dick, even though we'd all been suspicious of Tim since the beginning. Not a single person still in the game showed a crack in their poker faces.

"Okay... alright. Tim, I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying that you're a villager. You're always the first kill, and I know we've been joking for a long time about the round where somebody finally does it differently, but I'm not convinced that's this round."

"No! Dammit, Grayson's lying to you!"

"Or else she's one of the werewolves..." said Duke. Jason raised an eyebrow, but I just shook my head.

"I'm done with the back and forth, you all make it impossible to play this game." I met Dick's eyes again, and he gave me a gorgeously charming smile. "I'm trusting you. Don't make me regret it."

"Never."

I narrowed my eyes, but I knew if I let myself keep going in circles for another minute, I'd literally never stop.

"Alright, I'm calling it," I said. "Let's vote. I vote Tim."

"No!"

"I also vote Tim, since I saw his werewolf card," said Dick. I narrowed my eyes at him, but he just reached out to rest his hand on my thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I vote Dick! Because he's clearly the werewolf!" cried Tim. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Nice try, werewolf. I vote Tim."

"Well, I guess it doesn't matter then," sighed Duke. "But for the record... I'm still going to vote Dick."

"Tim has officially been killed by the village," Damian jumped in, continuing his job of narrator, his face and tone completely neutral. "He was not a werewolf. There are only two villagers left, and still two werewolves. The werewolves win."

"Hell yeah we do!" cried Jason, leaping off the couch and punching the air. Dick jumped up with him, grinning and high-fiving his stupid werewolf teammate.

"I told you it wasn't me!" Tim cried.

"I was the seer!" Stephanie shouted at the same time. "I'm gonna get you back for making me sit through that, Grayson!"

I just sat and watched the uproar until my boyfriend plopped back on the couch next to me, turning to face me with a grin. I narrowed my eyes at him.

"You'll never make me regret trusting you, huh?"

The grin took on a tinge of regret as Dick took my hand and leaned closer to me, but it didn't disappear. I narrowed my eyes further.

"I'm sorry, baby," he said, barely sounding sorry at all. "But I have some good news."

"It better be some record breaking amazing news, Grayson."

"You know the game night betting pool that you quit after the first month?"

I snorted. The Batkids ran a ridiculous, next-level complicated betting pool on various possible scenarios across game night, including who might win certain games, in how many rounds, etc. All the payouts were for things like telling Batman about a mistake on behalf of the group or switching villain assignments when one of them didn't want to fight Condiment King. I'd participated exactly once, and it had been so intense, nitpicky, and insane that I'd decided to sit out all future betting pools.

"...I remember it, yeah. Why?"

"We had one going this week that if Jason and I managed to win as a team in werewolves—which of course had pretty bad odds—everybody would pitch in for an extra-special date night for the two of us, and they aren't allowed to interrupt us for a full eight hours."

My eyebrows shot up. I think the longest Dick and I had gone without some kind of contact from one of his siblings was six hours, maximum. Despite the werewolf argument still raging around us, the corner of my mouth started to pull up in a smile.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

I huffed a laugh, then leaned in until Dick and I were nose to nose again. I met his eyes, this time with a smile matching his and about two thousand percent less suspicion.

"I take back my outrage at you making me a patsy in werewolf. You did a great job, and I can't wait for our date night."

"Neither can I."

In sync, the two of us leaned forward to close the rest of the distance between us, our mouths meeting in a sweet, smiling kiss. Dick's hand wandered my waist, and I started to lean into his lap until a chorus of "ew!"s sounded from his siblings. We broke apart, both of us still grinning.

"That is not allowed at game night."

"Save it for your stupid eight hour date!"

I laughed, leaning back against Dick as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders. Everyone else had more or less settled back into their seats, so I sighed.

"Alright. We're done for now, I promise."

Everyone nodded, sighed, or otherwise overacted their relief. Dick shook his head, and I just laughed.

"Damian, give me the werewolf deck," I said, holding out a hand and deciding for the group that we were moving on. "I'm officially calling narrator. Obviously Dick and I are getting a happy ending, but I need a break from playing mind games with you people."

The assorted grins from the Batkids around me could've made even the most hardened criminal run for the hills. But after spending countless hours with them since I'd started dating Dick, for some reason, the looks just made me want to smile. I loved these scary, ridiculous idiots, almost as much as I loved Dick Grayson.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin @v1ckycheesue @lavender-dinos

[gnohomotho]

Just a game (part 3) ۶ৎ

Pairing: Hwang In-ho / Front Man x fem!reader

Summary: The Front Man decides to meet you, finally, only...you don't know that. How better to toy with you than by being right next to you? He seems to have something in store for you, something that could help you - or perhaps himself. Musings, touchings, lots of inner machinations and pulls. Jealousy. Slow burn. He really does seem to like you. Warnings: It's still the God damn Front Man Possessiveness, stalking, touching, drugging, kidnapping, unauthorised GDPR implications, dominance play, general 18+ TW, age gap. Likely medical malpractice, but who am I to talk. Word count: 4k Proofread, and, unlike my thesis, I actually do know where this is going. Requests open. Link to previous Link to next

You were waiting.

The street was full of people, and you watched them walk on. Standing next to the post, just a little behind the hustle and bustle, so you wouldn’t be too ostentatious. You didn’t like being seen, nor being seen first. Which is ridiculous, you think, since this is a terrible idea, and you have no idea who you’re even waiting for. Of course they will see you first, fu---

You breathe out. Look at your shoes again. You check your bun, your hair still firmly in place. You’re wearing a large coat, but under it, you decided for full protective mode. Long sleeves, black stockings, sensible skirt, clingy but warm dark top that held your waist and neck in place. You check the time again. Always too early. The street keeps changing its momentary inhabitants. You sigh and check for pink, pink calms you down a tad. You did tell your housemate you’re doing something stupid and to watch his phone for emergency messages, then again, he’s used to you saying that and knowing you don’t do stupid things. Not anymore. He likely thinks you’re breaking into (arriving at a sensible time) an owl enclosure and committing grand larceny (petting owls). You smile to yourself and adjust your glasses. The ones you wear more for an additional barrier to shield from the world than eyesight. You don’t mind the world being a bit blurry and not seeing faces too well without them. You prefer it. Faces are…rather intense, too much going on at once. Just as a reflection in a puddle is safer and more informative than whatever it is reflecting. Barriers, barriers, glassy barriers, you humm a melody and forget to breathe again.

To recap, you think, “alright. You absolute dumbass. We have a man…” you ponder a second, “likely a man…” as you go through his actions of the last 24 hours, scanning the surroundings as you bury your mind in thought again, “who is likely absolutely fucking unhinged, knows far too much about you, is sending you creepy, lecherous, borderline sweet gifts, knows where you live, has some way of watching you do everything and now you are actively, of your own free will, doing as he says and placing yourself directly not on the red line, nooo, you jumped the red line and are firmly planted wherever they make the red lines to begin with.”

Then again, you shift your eyes to the left and back, you have nothing to lose. Eyes dropping a bit, you linger on the thought…really, nothing to lose. Smiling a little drily, a little bitterly to yourself, you think that even if he manages to hurt you, at least it’s not the same old same old “Roses are red, chocolate is brown, I expect nothing and I’m still let down.”

Just as you’re humming the third IRA anthem to yourself and wondering how exactly does Semtex fit into birthday candles, someone is coming your way. Slowly approaching you is a figure, in dark, well fitted trousers, neat shoes, a very normal, very elegant winter overcoat that reaches just above his knees. It’s beige, but you notice the rest of the outfit is dark. His hair is neatly swept to the side, turtleneck accentuating his dark eyes, and, well…

“Oh no, he’s hot.”

That was a joke, you say to yourself and don your perfect plastic smile that makes people think of escaped shop mannequins. You notice he’s almost an unnoticeable smidgeon taller than you, which is unusual and doesn’t alleviate your worries at all. There goes your tall feminine dominance technique. Making a small bow and immediately hating yourself for it, you try to say something adequate to the situation:

“...”

It’s 15:00.

He’s exactly on time.

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In-ho was ready at 12:00. He had everything planned and ready by 12:05 and patiently waited for the right time to leave. Everything was exactly outlined, down to his wardrobe, down to the last signal he’ll give to his last henchman. Wear something non-threatening which gives an air of protection. Hair down and neat, not brushed back. No limousines, no guards, no displays of power. Let’s not scare anyone just yet. Taking off his gloves as he finished the thought, he lightly held his index finger to his neck. Frowning, he placed the gloves on the table. His pulse was elevated. Is he excited? Giddy? Interested? No, of course not. He’s barely amused. Just a means to ease the monotony, nothing more. How better manipulate someone than by dangling their life before them? One hand offering the safety of a rope, the other holding the knife that cuts it.

He was in place at 14:30 and stood unseen. At 14:45 he saw a figure that caught his gaze. Tall, but trying not to be. Elegant. Sweet. Unapproachable. Amusingly, it seemed she accidentally stole his demeanour, looking like a schoolboy’s fantasy between a strict teacher and a sweet older friend on a night out. Guarded by every hint of her being, down to the last thread. But he didn’t sense fear, which surprised him a little. That was a tad disappointing. Intriguing, though. He straightened his stance and looked at nothing, people flowing by like a nondescript river. He can alleviate that, if need be. Oh, he definitely can.

This was the first time since seeing you with your ex-companion that he’s truly close to you. Actually close to you, breathing nearly the same air, seeing you in the flesh. Oh, the phone screen truly didn’t do you justice, he sighs, face still a mask. Somewhere his thoughts tried to revert – scanning you to find evidence of monotony, boredom, garish normality.

Projecting, doubting, reassuring himself. Making a perfectly balanced equation: his dreams, imagination, and whatever was left of his heart on one side, and his true self on the other.

So much time spent with you, meticulously going through your entire life. Every letter, every deleted message. He’s been with you ever since he first saw you. He’s been smiling at the way you speak when you’re almost giddy, catching himself softly chuckling with your jokes. The more he knew about you, the more he felt for them – seeing you truly saw the light at the end of the tunnel as another train. He’s been calmly extenuating his patience with your other interactions you would not wish to recount – and coldly reading things you wouldn’t tell if held at gunpoint. He’s been listening to your voice when you speak slowly, when you speak in poems, when you recount what makes you glad to speak of. He knows the voice you use with friends, with colleagues, and the voice you use when you’re truly fond of someone. He likes the words and rather higher, sweet tone you use when you’re a bit tipsy and your laugh when you forget to hide it – and he relishes your vocabulary when you decide to place someone in their place – politely, kindly, in a low, clear voice. He even knew the voice you used when someone needed help, when you listened, or when you helped spiders out of windows. Caring. Loving. Gentle. Inauthentic and a bit tired if they strained your patience, but you never retaliated. He went back into your past, sorting each and every paper, document, photograph. The further he went, the more his smile dissolved away from his eyes and grew into a cold, stable expression again. He did lean into them for a moment, turning off his orchestral music, and leaned back staring at nothing for quite a while. Musing, he then went back to the present and read reports on your interactions – be it with your ex-companion, housemate, friend, potential love affair you would never have. Faint intrigue grew into something of an affliction, though he’d never admit it, and became something that needed disproving or breaking before it got out of hand, but even then, it needed a fair trial and a good, balanced equation. Yet the lady now before him was actively kicking the base of the scales.

14:59.

Let the game commence.

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“Y/N?” The man smiles at you exceptionally disarmingly. His entire demeanour changes before your eyes, like watching dark embers huddle and ignite into warm orange light – there is a nice older man with dark eyes, looking very subtly down at you, stance as safe as a falling autumn leaf, not invading your personal space.

“I do hope I did not keep you waiting.” He chuckles and quickly looks from side to side.

“The boss said you’d be here and didn’t exactly give me the best description.” His smile reaches his eyes as he laughs a little once more, you notice his body language is directly mannering his words and expressions – little movements, fidgets, correct turning of the head with his gaze, never looking at you as you’d expect…his boss? To look at you. Everything seems to fit perfectly in place, in time. The back of your head is tingling, but you put it to rest. The sigh of relief you breathe likely butterfly-effected a hurricane on the other side of the globe.

“Oh thank God.” You bend a little in the knees and let out a nervous, quiet laugh. “This is so fucked up,” you think to yourself immediately and straighten again. No matter how much you subtly raise your spine or position your legs, he is still everso minutely looking down at you.

“Your boss?” You take off your glasses for drowning precautions. You do have a thing for dark eyes and creepy bodies of water.

The man nods, still lightly smiling. Somehow, his forearm is closer to you than it was before, though you didn’t notice movement. His fingers are beautiful, you catch yourself resting your eyes between their milky skin and their firm elegance. You notice a few healed scars, and shift a tad further, up his wrist. You like firm, gentle hands and arms. Not blind strength, more so hidden fervour of a pianist or a longbowman. Subtle, perfectly balanced, not a movement wasted. But strong enough to snap your neck. Pulling yourself away at least mentally, you listen for his breath, search for some hint of subterfuge or wrongness, or even nervousness – it would calm you down. If he just went full Anton Chigurh on you right now, you’d probably be calmer due to expecting such a thing and being far more used to it. But no. The curve of his darker lips rests as it did before, no sighs, no wasted breaths. His eyes are pointed but not invading, as if taking you in his own little bubble in front of him. Nothing more, nothing less. The visage breaks as he lifts his hand to yours and smiles again.

“May I offer an arm as we walk?” He placed his arm before you, and before you could say “I think the fuck not,” he was already pulling out a light scarf and wrapping his arm where you were offered to hold.

“I would not wish for you to be uncomfortable,” he leans his head to the side ever so slightly in a very sweet gesture, still smiling politely. “It’s for safety, not intrusion.” You carefully hooked your palm under and around his arm and tried to at least keep the rest of your body at a distance from his. He truly was quite disarming. For safety? What a polite way to say, ‘my boss told me you’re about as stable as a two-legged horse on a bender and if you manage to faint on the street, you’ll attract too much attention.’ As you walked and tried to slow your racing mind between bursts of apathy at how dangerous your situation truly was, you kept thinking that something was familiar here. You’ve never seen this man before, who is probably as scared as you are, if that’s the boss he has to work with, and he seems quite lovely. Dark, silent, but quite lovely. But something is gnawing at the back of your head, some faint sense of déjà vu, something familiar and very wrong.

“Is everything alright, Y/N?”

Again, it sounded pleasant, kind, with no ill intent... But cold. Something still missing. As if he were reading a poem, reciting, without feeling.

“You seem to be shivering.”

You look down. “Just a bit cold, mister…” oh. “Mister…?”

He gave a half-hearted smile, “I’m sorry, miss Y/N, the boss forbids us to share too much personal information.”

Your turn to frown into the palm of reality that just slapped you across the face.

“Can I call you anything else, kind-not-named-sir? Something that you might like? It doesn’t have to be a name. Just so I may speak to you, as we are.” You smile and stop, looking into his eyes. He didn’t say a thing as seconds slipped by, looking back into yours.

“I’ll have to clear that with the boss, but don’t worry. I will. Once our affairs are in order.” He turned himself away and lead you on.

“But more importantly, miss Y/N. How are you feeling?”

That sentence. Again and again. You don’t think he’ll actually listen. You’ve been in enough doctor’s rooms and enough self-help groups and enough therapy to loathe the sentence almost as much as the lack of interest behind it. No matter how well this man carried himself or his momentary assignment with you, no matter how immediately your body reacted to his presence and how your brain wished to both cower and study him intently, and perhaps shut him up with a kiss (just to make sure you definitely wouldn’t enjoy it and go home), this man wasn’t safe.

“Kind not-named-sir, I think I would like to be silent.”

Somehow, the streets seemed emptier, or perhaps the distance between you and everyone else seemed to deepen. Though his hand wasn’t squeezing yours and it was your will to hold onto his, it felt like a shackle you would not be able to break if you tried. And if you called out, you felt like you would be muffled before you got a gasp out. As if you were carrying around a field of a chasm. As you walked, you felt his eyes on your body, everso subtly. Not in a lecherous way, moreso in a way that conveyed study and care. Precaution. If someone got too close, you felt a slight pull to sway his way. When you slowed down because you were not doing so well, his eyes darted from your neck to your stomach to your face again. But he didn’t say a word. On one occasion, you noticed crows above you, squawking their beaks off. Perhaps a warning, you think, but got back to your typical thoughts – a hello. One of them seemed to gutturally wish to cry something rather important. Stopping to look up, your not-named-sir stops as well. But his head doesn’t copy your movements, he’s staring at you.

Still looking at the crows, you feel more at ease and less invested in being corporeal. They seem so free, so lovely, so wise. So beautiful. You don’t look at the man as you speak.

“I used to know a man who thought of me when he saw or heard crows.” Your voice is low, slow, and grows…thoughtful. “He would tell me they have dialects. He would speak to me of having trouble hearing me each time we called each other, since they pooled around him and cawed and cawed and cawed their hearts out; he would open his window for me to see and leave me there to keep watch. When I told him I saw none but tried to caw at them very quietly as a youngling calls to its mother, he lit up like a Christmas tree.” You smile, warmth unravelling in your chest just enough to keep the cold at bay, only to yourself, eyes still flying with the crows. “When I fell into his arms week after week, having no concern for gravity nor control nor being too heavy in body and mind, finally leaving it up to someone else, someone I trusted…” Your smile wanes into a wistful line and your eyes sadden down, “God knows he cared very little for me, but I could pretend. Just like I am doing now, kind not-named-sir.”

You look directly at him, sinking your gentle gaze into his dark pools.

“A game of pretend.”

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As you walked together, In-ho didn’t let his eyes wander without purpose. A stationed guard in plain clothes stood at every corner, the walk meticulously planned. Down to the colour of the shawl he wrapped around his arm for you to hold. He watched you, though. He listened to your voice – that melodic voice he had only dreamt of as of late. When you spoke of yourself, you were barely audible, more a hush than a voice. When you inquired for his name, your voice went up an octave and the words came out clearly, with interest and genuine wonder. Care…even. You truly seemed to compartmentalize each second with him and around him, and within them, you placed care on an unwitting underling who could, and should, have your worst interests at heart. In-ho caught himself smiling when you weren’t looking. The curve of your lips, the inviting roundness of your cheekbones, the gentle but intense eyes…they made him think of players who gave up and failed the game.

Yes, that was it. Weakness. Or…he scanned further. No, not…quite so. Weakness is what he wanted to see. But it…wasn’t quite there. Those players died, yes, but they did so with purpose and disregard for a prize. Their eyes saw Death and greeted Them as an old friend. You walked as someone who had walked a path before. Someone who cares more for a curious spider along the way to the gallows than the hangman tying the noose. His head was having trouble wrapping around it, and discontent wasn’t a state he felt too often nor too fondly. In-ho was a very intelligent man, and he knew quite well that he wasn’t going to sense the sought-for weakness. He, in the back of the back of his mind, knew exactly what was in front of him and why, but he didn’t wish for it to be that way, and it did not align with the manner of his games. He truly hoped to see weakness, an excuse, frivolity. Verification for the rules he had put in place so very long ago. Perhaps he would discard you altogether. Perhaps drive you mad first. Use you. Break you. Leave you empty. Yes. Perhaps. That would be best. His grip on you tightened for a moment, thoughts growing colder, bathing in a darker pool. Anger. He felt anger towards those players. That wasn’t the way of the game. That wasn’t how the world worked. It didn’t fit his equation he based the better part of his life upon, it was entirely incongruent with his preconceived notions, his carefully planned life. People are disposable, weak, cowardly – barely insects. They will eat their own for a chance to step on another face. Then came your voice once more, humming through his brain.

You didn’t know, of course, but In-ho was well aware of who you were referring to. Down to his address and last whereabouts. And you couldn’t have chosen a worse moment to become so very wistful. To let your voice breathe a poem for another man, a man of nothing. The caring, gentle tone, with words wrapped in silk, slow, slow whispers for someone else, someone who gave you nothing in return. Those eyes softening as they gazed at the birds above you, the lips so eager and sweet. Your chest lifted as you spoke, allowing more breath and you seemed so…peaceful. In-ho felt his fingers twitch; the anger was cold, as cold as a flame that has traversed all colours and arrived at nothing but white. Though he reminded himself that he felt nothing for you, his control was slipping. In his presence alone, you allowed such incredible insolence, in the face of a man who could end your life in a gesture – such incredible audacity, while being and sounding calm and polite. Even without a name, you managed to call him “sir”. Then came your last sentence and In-ho might have lost an inkling of his balance were he not chained to the cold stone by sheer resolute thought of consequences specially crafted for you. Might have lost his balance if it didn’t intrigue the anger right out of his chest.

How did she know?

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She didn’t.

You arrived at your destination, and he took you inside a rather normal looking building. It was different than offices you were used to, there was nobody else around and the chairs were heavy. No running off. It was different than the hospitals you grew to loathe, but still. The henchman said nothing more, only guided you. You noticed he was more reserved. He left the room as you spoke to a woman, then a man, then another woman – all clothed in white with no names on their doors or clothing. You barely heard their words; your brain was full of each and every door that closed behind you. “Operation, procedure, aftercare…” It all slipped into one river and carried on around you. You didn’t sign anything, you wanted out. Too many doors, too many ways of escape blocked. Too many masked faces. You should have known you were walking into trouble when you tried to write your housemate and someone took your phone for safekeeping, disappearing into the white halls. You tried to remain calm, as you were sitting in the third heavy chair of the day clinging to your knees with faintly shivering hands, and quite simply decided to excuse yourself and make a run for it the moment the lady in front of you turns her back.

Yet it wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder and a brush against your ear that you knew you messed up. Messed up fatally. The woman in front of you seemed to grow fainter, leaving a blur of a shape behind her as she stood up to walk out of the room. Throat. Pain. Brush. Cold touch. A small gasp left your lips as you feel the prick in your neck begin to hurt and spread and you…you try to get up. Fast. And fail. Aided by the unseen figure firmly pushing you back down; your legs wouldn’t be able to carry you anyway. You slowly, painfully, with a frozen streak running down your back realise you are at the mercy of someone who is, at best, cruel. The last thing you remember is a hand caressing your neck in place of the pain, circling a fingertip around its tender centre. A hushed voice hums in your ear, soothing you with words that did not belong here.

“Shhh, little one…hush.”

You cannot move away, when you try to, his low murmur drags you back and his lightly placed fingers dig in to lean you back into him. Your heart tries to leap in panic, but it is tired. Your chest is tired. You are so very, very tired. Your head is heavy, leaning back on its own accord into the man behind you, next to you, you are no longer sure. You let him cradle you in his hands as you slip away. As he slowly runs his fingers through your hair to the rhythm of his breathing, you feel long, gentle fingers, like those of a piano player, hold and cradle your heavy mind. His hands caress you through your hair, meticulously, slowly, reassuringly. You let yourself fade into his touch.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N…you’re doing so well for me.”

Miles away, you smiled up into the dark – someone said you did well. How lovely. The touch was so lovely. Everything seemed safely dark; you felt for his voice and his faint breath on your neck to hold onto.

“My good girl.”

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[loycos]

my head's a bit clearer, some thoughts about act 3

-my biggest gripe is episode 7- cool idea, love the concept of peaking into a different universe and seeing what our characters couldve been under different circumstances, but a WHOLE episode. when you only had 9 episode in this season, that already feel like theyre moving at a neck's pace. for a universe that ultimately doesn't matter to the main universe where the story takes place. the fact it had timebomb made it feel extremely fan service-y.

-no emotional resolution to a lot of characters. viktor and jayce are the only ones i can think of that felt like they got the screen time and care for an actual emotional closure.

-isha wasn't even mentioned in this act. in general she was already a martyr for jinx's character development but guys can you make it less obvious.

-it started in act 2, hence why i was so jaded on it, but it continues here: just where the fuck the political drama between 2 cities go? the conflict between zaun and piltover took a back seat since episode 4 and never came back. the resolution to it isn't bad per say, but when u got so little focus on it in the finale it just feels rushed.

-i loved the cait and jinx scene. but like, that was the resolution to it??? after act 1 thinking about it disappoints me. im not against a conversation being the climax to a story, but that is, and im not joking, the ONLY conversation these 2 have in the show one on one. in general the jinx\cait\vi arc ends with 1 conversation per duo (well caitvi got one fight and one very steamy sex scene but u won't catch me complaining). and after act 1, idk i think i wanted just a little bit more. im biased though- the jinx\vi\caitlyn dynamic is my favorite part about arcane. the teasers for s2 always had them front and center so i assumed it'll play a bigger part in the story???

-i felt like what the show was at its core, which is the conflict between the sisters and the cities, was completely sidelined this season. in general i can't really tell what the main theme of the show is anymore. but yeah look at the resolution to the jinx and vi story.did it feel like it had the emotional impact u expected? cause i felt like it was underwhelming.

-sevika?? didnt speak since episode 4???? huhh???

-maddie was pointless. why was she there?? i don't understand the point of that character. i dont understand her motives. she ended up not mattering at all to caitvi's story. the only thing i got from her inclusion is "caitlyn fucks" but is it that THAT important??? of a character trait??? to add to caitlyn of all people?? in THIS season??? this belongs in the realm of fanfiction.

-a lot here felt like fanfiction actually. every silco inclusion (except of him in the cell with jinx), the whole "nobody dies au" they threw in the middle, even the caitvi sex scene (IM NOT COMPLAINING THO). the caitvi scene at the end was dialog out of fanfiction, wtf was that.

-why did caitlyn lose her eye? im not like against the idea on a base level but losing an eye is very symbolic, and im not sure what its supposed to represent here. caitlyn is an observant person, its a big character trait for her. so youre basically saying she sees less now? that she's more laser focused? i sure hope not. wasnt her whole arc with giving up of revenge about seeing the "bigger picture"? her sacrifice didn't feel in character, because caitlyn is not really a "fight to the death" type of character like ambessa is. if she made that sacrifice for something like love, or for the betterment of other people, that would be more in line. idk, you couldve made me on board with it but im just very meh on it. also caitlyn only really emotes through her eyes, it sucks that we get even less of it now?? though i guess it doesnt matter at this point.

-what was the point of the enforcer that looked like vander?

-ambessa was so wasted in these last 2 acts its crazy. where's the "you have to be the fox and the wolf" mindset from her? she felt like she was wolfing only with no wit anymore by the 3rd act.

-mel????????????? it was. uhhh. maybe you shouldve saved it for another series, riot. but in this show, waste of time. the fight she had with caitlyn against ambessa was cool tho.

-i sound like im a hater but u have to understand. s1 of arcane was a political drama and a character study show. seeing all this discarded for magic and time travel shenanigans on like 4 different fronts was so jarring it took me out of the show multiple times.

-cant believe im saying that, but i wish they'd try to stick closer to the characters' current state in the source material (the cursed game). someof it felt out of left field and done for shock value, which isn't why we love the story or these characters to begin with.

good stuff:

-caitvi sex lmao ill take it babyyyyy

-jayce and viktor's scenes at the end were powerful.

-as usual, the visuals were phenomenal. the animation is gorgeous. fortiche u made this show what it is and youre still its saving grace.

-thank god they dropped the warwick\vander plot

-i liked the implication of the conclusion to jinx's story, even if it felt a little inconsistent with the character.

-the ending to jinx\vi\caitlyn was poetic and i did love it, even if it was rushed and didn't really hit the emotional highs i wanted it to.

[hyacinthleaves]

Istg you're carrying the project eden's garden x reader tag on your back 😭😭.

Could I request Damon, Wolfgang & Mark with a blackened reader and what their reaction would be when they discover it was them in the trial?? (For the sake of this imagine Wolfgang is alive...)

PD: what if the motive was that if the blackened got away they could choose another student to leave with? (Reader would obviously want to leave with the character)

DAMON FANS WHAT IS HAPPENING

Damon Maitsu:

I already talked about Damon's s/o as the blackened but with that motive?

He's actually going to lose his shit

He cares so much about you and he had a sneaking suspicion that one of you were going to die by the end of the game (though he didn't want to believe it) but he had no clue that it was going to be for that reason

Really, with his mixed emotions in that moment, he wants to call you a dumbass

But he loves you so much because you went to those lengths to try and make sure the two of you come out alive

So for a bit he says nothing because he's genuinely buffering, but you can see it in his eyes (through his tears), he's extremely grateful even though you did do that

It pains him to say that you're the killer but he'll honestly try to be as slow as possible just so he can have a few more moments with you (and he's beating himself up for it because he knows what's going to happen anyway)

He'll watch your execution and just think that this was entirely preventable if he never got close to you in the first place

...wait

Hear me out. What if you just told him in advance

I really think that if you manage to make Damon reach a level of selfishness and hate for others, you can convince him to keep his mouth shut for a pretty long time

Like really if you let him sit in the fact that he never wanted to be there, everyone hates him, he hates everyone, and there's a way out if he just shuts up, I think it's possible

Out of all 3 characters listed, I genuinely feel like he's the most likely to shut up and actually help you get away with it if there's enough preparation

Food for thought, I don't know

It'll make it so much worse when/if you get executed though because he actively played a hand in your death. His mental health will quickly go downhill from there

Wolfgang Akire:

He's SO conflicted, poor guy

And I'm sorry to say this, but he would flat out tell you that he never wanted you to do that

It hurts him to say it too but he's generally pretty selfless (or at least in front of others, he does care about how he presents himself) and he wants to keep that up, whether he actually believes it or not

It's not like his love for you isn't strong, but he's also a lawyer. YOU should've seen that coming

He'll still be upset for sure but in a moment of high stress, it'll definitely look like he turned his back on you, even though he's just trying to solve the case

And I don't think it would've changed even hm if he thought that you might've done it from the start

I don't think he would want everyone else to die for the sake of you two, it just wouldn't have worked long term either

He's pissed but so sad because he knows how much you care about him but you knew damn well he doesn't like what you did

This would be disastrous because he's crying out of frustration and it looks like he's so pissed. It literally looks like you two are breaking up, because he's mad at you because you killed someone and now you're about to die. There's so much shit happening I don't even think anyone would want to talk anymore

Mark Berskii:

(if the motive was public) As soon as that motive dropped, he knew something was going to happen

I feel like he considered it for a moment but he thought that it wouldn't be right to do anything so he didn't

He also wondered if you would kill someone for the both of you, but it wasn't something he was taking seriously. It still stayed in the back of his mind though

This bit of anxiety caused him to keep an eye on you a lot more than he usually does

If he thinks you're acting suspiciously, he'll be extremely nervous but he won't say a word. He doesn't want to know. If it's you, he doesn't want that thought plaguing his mind at a time like this

Even if you did do it, he wouldn't want you looking suspicious during the investigation. He'll stick to you and just tell you to act normal if you aren't already

If you don't have an alibi during the time of the murder, he might just make something up. He becomes EXTREMELY protective. He doesn't want anything happening to you

He might crash out before you do just because he doesn't even want anyone thinking of you in that manner

It would look very sudden compared to his general silence from before

He doesn't care if you did or didn't do it anymore, he refuses to lose you. It almost looks like he has more to lose than you do, and you're the one that might die

He's gonna become Damon levels of pissy after the trial. If people even look at him for too long he'll get mad

It'll take him a bit to calm down and I don't think anyone will really try to bother him, for obvious reasons

[make-it-kinky-make-it-fun]

You get home on a friday afternoon, after your college classes are done for the week. Your parents are away for the weekend at some work thing you don't care about, so you're completely alone.

You lay down on your bed as you lazily scroll on your phone, too distracted to hear the front door opening and footsteps climbing the stairs.

Suddenly, that creepy older guy from your class is standing right in front of you, and the moment you notice him he jumps on top of you, easily overpowering you.

He binds your wrists together and on the bedframe, then he rips your shirt off, leaving you bare chested.

He proceeds to take off your pants and tie your legs on opposing bed posts, making you unable to close them.

He then gags you with a ring gag he found on your bedside table drawer. You try to kick and scream but he just chuckles as he slowly caresses and gropes your whole body, pinching you nipples hard.

He does this for a long time, simply feeling you up as you start to cry softly.

He then starts playing with your exposed cunt, touches light as feathers, and you sob harder as you feel your own wetness pooling. You're not enjoying this, not at all, but you can't control your body and the man let's out a cruel laughter.

He plays with your clit relentlessly, you feel your body betraying you as you jerk your hips forward in search for more freaction, which only makes him laugh harder and you cry harder.

It goes on for hours, him just touching you like this as if your clit and slit were the funnest toys around. Your mind is completely fuzzy at this point, and you can just react at his incessant touches.

He has his dick out by now, but he's just using the tip to continue to molest you, never even trying to enter you.

He then mounts on you, and you think he'll finally fuck you and maybe this will be over soon. But no, he instead takes the gag off of you and sticks his tongue inside your mouth as his dick rubs on your cunt. You’re becoming breathless and desperate, which makes him laugh again as he shoves his tongue deeper inside your mouth and pinches your nipples.

After a long while like this, he finally stops and you manage to slur out:

"Why don't you get it over with and fuck me already?"

He chuckles and forcible kisses you again, making you almost choke on his tongue.

"Oh, baby, your parents won't be back until monday, we got plenty of time."

Your face scrunches up and you start crying again while he smirks and goes back to gently stroking your cunt.

You don't know how many more hours go by, the gag back in its rightful place in your mouth. You barely feel his touches anymore, with the amount of wetness surrounding your holes.

He takes this as his cue to grab one of your toys, a small vibrator. The moment it touches you, your back arches and you let an obscene moan escape your throat, and you try to hide your face from the embarrassment, but he won't let you.

"I won't stop until you beg me to make you cum, by the way. And if you haven’t done it by the end of the weekend, I assure you you'll regret it."

So this is how you end up being teased and edged for 34 hours straight. You lost count of how many times you passed out, and your mind is so fuzzy you almost forget where and who you are.

The man has used almost your entire collection of toys by now, and not once did he lose his focus and fucked you. Well, not your cunt anyway, because your face became his fleshlight, as you were unable to close your jaw and every time you tried to use your tongue to push him out he'd just groan "yes, baby, that’s so good, keep making out with my dick"

When you finally broke with a pathetic whimper of "please... please make me cum" he didn't turn feral or agressive like you imagined. No, he slowly entered you and it took him another hour and a half to actually get you off, tears running down your face again.

Then, he shoved his tongue down your throat for the twentieth time before grinning like a wolf.

"Well, we still have well over 12 hours to go. Shall we see how many times I can force you to cum?"

At this, you began sobbing again, and his mocking chuckles filled the room.

"I guess we better ger started if we wanna break my record, right?"

You'll forever wonder if you should've held on for longer, but that's no longer a choice as he rams his dick inside you over and over, a magic wand firmly pressed against your clit as you cum over and over, drifting in and out of consciousness.

[anon-sect]

As requested by @gangesqueen for a Part Two

Lial was in a sweaty prison around Trey, the team captain's waist. He could hear the team celebrate their victory on the bus ride home. He could even hear their coach joining in on the celebration. He so wanted to scream for help for the coach to convince the team captain to let him go. But as an article of clothing, he couldn't do anything but cradle the waistline of who wore him. The sweaty prison was a nightmare. He was completely saturated by Trey's sweat and started to smell like the musky odor he was attached to.

After a two hour drive back, Trey got to his car and drove home. It was then he realized the sentient underwear he was wearing. They were enjoying the celebration so much he had forgotten about the special trophy the losing team gifted them. "Sorry to say, but your old life is over, buddy. My team and I get to have all the fun with you." He gloated over his transformed underwear.

Once home, Trey decided to let his transformed underwear know just how much of an object he was. He got undressed with just only his underwear on. He went to his computer desk and put on a porn video. As the action in the video intensified, so did his dick. He stroke and stroked it through his underwear until his load spilled on the inside. The release felt so wonderful. He gained a sense of superiority as he saw the underwear front wet with hot cum. The thought that he just did that to a former human actually felt great to him.

Lial felt so disgusted at his face being rubbed around Trey's dick. Feeling the warm cum wet his face made his feelings even worse. The guy literally ejaculated in him as though he was a simple object, a simple article of clothing on his body. He no longer felt human anymore. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, underwear bitch. I think I will sleep in you as well. You need to truly realize what your teammates did to you." He heard Trey laugh at him. Trey took a shower and put him back on his body, much to his disagreement.

The next day, Lial found himself turned back human again. He still smelled horrible from the musk from being Trey's underwear. He looked up at another of Trey's teammates. "I want a pair of bitch socks, Trey" Antoine spoke to his team captain. Lial thought being underwear was bad enough, but being socks on the jock's feet didn't sound pleasant. "Please, just let me go, I promise I won't say a word about what you have done to me" Lial pleaded, only to see Trey flash a light at him from his TF phone. He didn't have a chance to say another word.

Antoine picked up the Nike socks off the floor. "You have him for one day, then another person gets to play with him next." Trey spoke as he left Lial with Antoine to use as he pleased. He really was looking forward to this. He quickly slips him on his feet. It felt wonderful on feet, unlike normal socks. The former human was super comfortable to wear. Antoine decided to go on a five-mile jog for good measure on the transformed human. He didn't even get the guy's name, but that really didn't matter. He was socks now and socks don't need to have a name.

Lial saw this new experience was far worse than being wrapped around Trey's waist. Each step brought on levels of pain he never thought was possible. He mentally screamed in agony as Antoine started his jog. The pain seemed never ending. The pain wasn't the only thing he had to contend with. The sneakers he was shoved in smelled so bad, he wished he could have passed out just so that he didn't have to smell the foul stench. He mentally begged that he was having a bad nightmare and could wake up from it. After twenty minutes, he saw his nightmarish hell go from bad to worse. He was now tasting the foot sweat that was saturating his sock bodies. Being a transformed object heighted his senses 500% beyond normal. Every smell, touch and taste made his hell a place of torment. The jog seemed never ending.

Antoine returned from his jog to relax. His feet didn't hurt one bit. In fact, they have never felt better. He knew it was all due to his current socks. He wanted to thank his socks for doing such a good job. He knew one special way to do just that. He took off one sock and placed it over his dick. While watching porn, he ejaculated in it for good pleasure. With the other sock, he used that to clean his dick off. He didn't formally thank his socks, because who really speaks to their socks as though it's a person.

For the next several months, Lial was treated to being an object for each member of the team as something that person wanted him to be. He had been shoes, socks, underwear, a dildo, a condom, insoles, boots. He just wanted his nightmare to end. He was finally given back to the team captain after everyone had their fun with him. He was so hoping he would at last be free. He found himself human once again, not sure what was going to happen next.

"I give you the option, I turn you into a permanent pair of Nike Air Jordans for my feet forever, or you can suck my cock and be set free afterwards. Your choice." Trey told Lial. What Lial didn't know was that Trey had a devious plan if he chose to suck his cock.

Lial saw this as his opportunity to return back to normal life, even if that meant he had to suck the jock's sausage to get it. He quickly put Trey's dick in his mouth and started sucking it. He wasn't paying any attention to what Trey was doing above him.

Trey had the setting on the TF phone and snapped his picture. Lial vanished before him. All that was left was an extra six inches to his dick. He laughed as he realized that the guy was permanently his cock now. There was no way to reverse what he had done to him. Yet, he didn't want to reverse it. The loser was given to his team, so they got to do whatever they wanted with him. He pulled up his underwear and pants, trapping his new cock in darkness. He promised he would give the guy some action soon enough. There would be plenty who would want to suck his new dick or an ass he could be shoved in. The thought of subjecting the former human to that made him laugh

Lial realized that Trey had lied to him as he now found himself as the man's dick. His fate was sealed; his humanity was permanently gone forever. He was now the jocks sex tool for the rest of his life. He could only weep and feel contempt for his former teammates, who put him in this predicament.

[askthefamous8]

Even if I haven't been very active lately, 9 years is still pretty significant- happy birthday to the blog!

So like Percy up there I'm gonna do so dome reflecting. This blog's where I've often done that for some reason, but here's the tl'dr for blog related stuff.

• I would like to keep drawing stuff but feeling generally unsure in myself, and I'm wondering if all the years of fandom harrassment have caught up with me • I have one big project in mind, I've been dipping my toe into what I'd need to do it. No spoilers but it was one of the first things I played around with this series, so do with that what you will • If I can keep myself drawing, I want to use more of the original source material since I'm struggling with original ideas. So stuff like redraws, hOpEfULlY even animatics, just like what originally got me so into trains yknow? Because that's fun and sparks joy. And that always goes down a treat with you guys so bonus • As always I appreciate you guys not coming after me for being so inconsistent

The rest of this is me doing what Percy's doing in the drawing and reflecting, as there is indeed much 2 think about. It's also a little sad and venty so, there's your warning there.

.

Ok so obviously a busy year, we moved into our new house that we actually own, I spent most of the year planning our wedding, and then got married. Big stuff. Also! I came off antidepressants in the summer. I've been on them for...basically as long as this blog, 6 months after I started it I think. Which also means I'd been on antidepressants my entire adult life. Feels like a big deal and I guess I'm still adjusting.

Another big thing, but sad, is that my dog died about two weeks ago. If you follow me on twitter you'll have seen her but she did make an appearance here a few Halloweens ago

I got her when she was 13 and had her 8 years after that. So that's been difficult. Unrelated to that (probably), but I just feel...really mediocre. And before you point out the obvious, this has been present even before I came off antidepressants. But yeah just... mediocrity. In myself as a person, how I look, what I draw, my whole life really (barring my marriage thankfully). What have I achieved? I'm 26, I'm not working, I don't feel well, my art isn't good (I don't think so anyway- like yeah it's technically fine I guess but it's not, and has never been, very stand-out or impressive). And lately art doesn't bring me the same joy it once did, and I'm wondering if all the years of harrassment from this fandom (mostly the twitter side, tumblr's been pretty good to me) has finally caught up with me and put me off the whole thing. Or worse, that I just don't have as much of an interest in it anymore. I don't think I'll ever be like "ok yep I'm officially done with this blog" because I'm so stubborn but idk. I want to make things and be creative, I want to make more train art, but it doesn't feel the same. I don't know what's wrong. What do you listen to? What you want vs what you feel? I still enjoy train stuff, I love going to Awdry Ex every year. It's been like this for awhile. It's not even like I have a strong feeling of what I'd rather be doing as far as careers go. And even if I did, oh yeah I'm sure my two degrees in animation will be very relevant in another field (sarcasm). I feel adrift. My sails are open but there is just no wind. Planning my wedding gave me something to do and work on and just, feel useful but now that that's over I feel lost again. Losing my dog, who had become the center of my life because of how vulnerable she had become, hasn't helped.

On the more creative side of things, I also don't really know what to do with this blog's story either. The show's ended as far as most people are concerned, and I kiiinda wrote myself into a corner because once Thomas turns 18 he's going to leave for university, and that sets off this whole arc with James but basically the problem is it involves characters leaving and for some reason that feels like a no-no here. Don't get me started on the timeline lol. But Thomas works on a railway on Sodor, that's how it has to be...right? I guess I'm sort of at a crossroads of, ok do I want this to be close to the source material, and thus easily digestible to newcombers? Or do I want to make it more and more my thing and distanced from the source material? I doubt there's many new people coming since the series ended. And even then, there's a lot more humanization artists around now than when I started, so it's not like I'm filling a niche anymore. Just to be clear it's fine and also good that there's more humanization artists, variety is good, I just don't feel as "needed" anymore (which is 100% in my head and not an actual role that belongs to me or something). I started this blog when I was 17, so my interests and what I relate to have changed obviously. The character designs certainly have. It's never followed a super rigid story plan, but the core of it has always been the central cast doing things on Sodor. I however have always had a scene/project/animatic/whatEver in mind for when this 'series' would '''officially''' ''''end''''. But then what comes after that? I've always tried to run this blog like they are Real People that You interact with. But in real life there is no ending to the story, there's always more stuff to come. You get married, and it's wonderful, and then life goes on. The credits never roll. So maybe that's what I'm having trouble coping with...the progression of time. Ah, my old nemesis. I've always had trouble with letting go of things. There's nothing to say that I couldn't still draw stuff after the series "ends". I guess any story after Thomas leaves could be like... a sequel series or a spin off or something. Spin-off of a spin-off. Famous 8 All Grown Up. Famous 8 Qurter Life Crisis. Who knows. I certainly don't.

I've also been really into an original project unrelated to this but those don't get as much attention and while I'd like to do something with it one day, I don't feel very confident in being able to make that happen right now. But you know... as far my as art not being super spectacular goes... I think my individual talent has always been is my ideas, like the writing side of things. And then brought to life with my art, which normally isn't anything to write home about but is good enough to convey the idea and be not-awful to look at, lifts both of them beyond what they were individually. Maybe that's what I should focus on. Maybe that's wishful thinking.

So....idk. Idk what I'm doing but I'm trying to be gentle on myself and just let myself continue to drift, to heal from this heavy loss, and then in the New Year I'll try and pick myself up. Then there will be no more big once-in-a-lifetime events coming up, no more just-moved-into-a-house-and-oh-no-there's-a-bunch-of-things-that-need-attention-NOW scenarios, and no more big holidays for awhile. I guess we'll see.

If you read all of this I am so sorry but also thank you for reading my ramblings. And thank you for being around, whether that's been for a few months or for several years, but especially if it's been several years

[panpanghost]

part 2 of this thing:

Macaque heard them coming, Wukong's new friends. They were here when he first woke up, actually the strange kid was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes. The little fella looked so scared and worried about him, he even promised to find a way to save him no matter what. Such a nice kid.

But, he doesn't know who the kid is... After he left last time, Macaque asked Wukong about his identity but Wukong, strangely, just looked at him shocked and never gave him an answer, after that Macaque got the idea that he lost a part of his memories.

Macaque has been trying to get his memories back, but it's like shovelling through a mountain, he can't remember anything from the past years, he can't tell how long it's been. He tried asking Wukong about it, but, for some reason, Wukong is lying, he knows he's lying. He tells him not to think about it too much and just enjoy the present, Wukong won't answer no matter what he asks, he'd either avoid the question or lie.

But Macaque doesn't doubt Wukong, he knows he still cares about him, sure he was acting weirdly when Macaque went to sleep and shower with him, but he didn't kick him out or throw him away... he was acting strangely though... maybe... maybe they aren't that close anymore, maybe they drifted apart and haven't been together for a long time and Wukong is letting him stay because he feels bad for him-

No, no that can't be it, if it were the case then Wukong would've straight up told him to leave and he hasn't done that yet, in fact he's doing the complete opposite, he won't let Macaque leave his sight let alone the island. He's also been a lot more physical... not that Macaque is complaining about that... but still, that is not how you treat someone you want to get away from.

Maybe he can ask the kid, but would that upset Wukong? Shit... He can't stay like this.. Damn it. He'll deal with Wukong when he has to.

_"Hey Wukong, your friends are coming. Should we go greet them?" he asked playing with Wukong's hair, under the shadow of an old tree,

_"They are?!" Wukong got up from Macaque's lap dusting and putting himself together as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. What's with him? Macaque doesn't remember Wukong being the shy type. No, Macaque is they shy one, Wukong used to have fun tormenting him in front of others.

_"Yeh, they'll be at the house any minute now."

_"Alright, thanks for telling me."

_"No problem, let's go see them, I'm actually kinda curious to know what that kid found out about the crown. All the monk said was that he felt a dark energy from it then nothing else."

_"Yeh.. about that. Why don't you just stay and rest a little more. I'll talk to them."

_"What? Why? It kind'a concerns me, don't you think I should be there?" Macaque is really starting to lose his temper,

_"Actually.." think Wukong, think! "When they first arrived here, you attacked them thinking they were enemies, and.. well... you guys don't get along that much..." would he believe that? it's not entirely a lie though..

_"oh- ok... I'll wait for you then." Macaque feels really bad, did he really attack them? but they seem so nice. It's really upsetting him, after what he'd done to them, they are still trying to help him, he should apologise, maybe make them some apology sweets, Macaque can't cook but he for sure can make killer desserts.

_"Hey, don't feel so down about it, I'll be back soon, ok?" Wukong feels a little bad for upsetting Macaque, but this is for the best, yes, it's for the best... is it?

_"ok." Macaque gave him a little smile. He should listen to Wukong, it's not like he can remember what he's apologising for. Wukong will take care of it.

edit: part 3