#King Of The Slums

[rocketbirdie]

alternative walking concept to the chain gang: they just rotate cloud into the middle and carry him (no idea why they're like this, the thought was just funny to me)

SKJSGFRDJGF now THAT'S more like it

[missn11]

I make dumb Devilman memes again, enjoy! XD

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippet Thursday: Viper continuation

For context: in previous sections Daxter's ottsel hearing and Jak's eco-assisted eyes picked up a deadly snake camouflaged near Damas’s throne. It didn't get there by itself. Having foiled the assassination attempt, Damas keeps the boys with him to help identify the would-be assassin. As it will turn out in a part I haven't written yet, there are two: one is an agent of Veger disguised as a monk who wants to destabilize the Spargan nation so Haven can control it. The other is an exiled Krimzon Guard who thinks Damas is too soft and who has been promised his old rank back if he kills him.

Obviously, this means tensions are about to be very high between Spargus and Haven. A note: the language I have Spargans using for ceremonies comes from some conlangers on reddit who have been expanding the Gerudo language from Breath of the Wild. I chose Gerudo because "Sabaa'geru" or "Evening People" sounded like something that over generations could become the word Spargus.

Check out their work HERE and HERE!

"Hey boss!" Daxter hopped out of the elevator and made straight for the pools of water. "Aaaaahhh. Sweet relief."

Damas stifled a chuckle at the boy's antics. He was better suited to the heat than he pretended, but he'd never begrudge Daxter the use of the water. By the time he'd looked away, Jak was already halfway to the dais with a spring in his step. Something rattled in his hand.

"I didn't expect to see you today, Jak," Damas greeted him, "What's that you've got?"

Jak held up an intricate band of bones, fangs and claws symmetrically spaced between tiny vertebra and polished until they shone. "It's done!"

Carefully, he passed it to Damas, watching him eagerly for his opinion. Damas turned the band necklace over in his hands, eyebrows raised.

"You have some skill, my boy! I'm impressed with the detail! How long did it take you?"

"Not too long. The fangs were the last piece I needed. See?" Jak leaned over his arm to point to the Dust Demon viper's fangs, forming a circle at the front that mimicked the emblem on the tower door.

"You can keep it, I have another one I'm working one." Jak clearly meant it, but the way he was looking at the necklace suggested he wasn't ready to part with it.

"It reminds me of the arm circlets my captains wear outside the city's walls, albeit bone rather than woven fabric." Damas stepped back up to his throne and set the jewelry down on its arm to admire it. He turned to look back down at Jak, who was clearly pleased by the comparison.

"Were you able to locate Thrax or the false monk?"

Jak's smile fell immediately into a scowl. "Lost Thrax in the Underport. Veger's guy? No idea. Sorry."

Damas jolted. "You chased him all the way into Haven?! Were you seen?"

In the water, Daxter opened one eye and called up, "They don't suspect nothin'. See, those ungrateful yakkows think they can just snap their fingers and Jak will come runnin', so they just figure we're there on one of their orders and start piling on the tasks."

He shut his eye again and yawned. "Boy are they in for a surprise if this turns into war."

"It may come to war," Damas acknowledged. He was devastatingly matter-of-fact about it, as if he was simply discussing the weather. He turned away from his throne, and the ring of tiny bones, to face Jak.

His gaze rested on him with an unbearable weight.

"Should that day come, you will no longer be able to simply run between cities as you please. I need to know where you stand, Jak."

Perhaps his own lack of hesitation should have concerned him. Made him feel guilty for abandoning friends and history so quickly.

It didn't. It made him feel braver than he'd ever felt.

Taking a breath for courage, Jak stepped up onto the dais and approached the king.

"If you asked it of me," Jak said quietly, meeting Damas’s eyes for as long as he could, "I would breach the walls myself. If you gave the order, I'd even lead the Infiltrators right into the Council Hall. As long as the few people who actually stood with us are given at least a chance to support Spargus, there is nothing binding me to Haven."

Damas looked at him with a bemused expression that wavered between stern and fond before a gentle pride won out. He laughed softly and shook his head.

"I don't think I've ever had a citizen quite as bold as you, young one." He rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, then smirked. "Very well, I accept your terms. Give me the names of these "friends", and they will be granted a chance for asylum."

The boy's smile was brief, but genuine and full of life. He stood a little straighter, trying to look as grown-up as possible.

"Then you have your answer," he replied.

"You'll stand with me? Even against the city your friends call home?" Damas pressed, just to be certain.

With a level of emotion unusual for him, Jak answered firmly, "I'd follow you into the underworld. You're-"

He cut himself off quickly, but his eyes finished the sentence for him.

You're the closest thing I have to a father-!

Blinking in a belated effort to hide those emotions, Jak let them push his impulse into action. Two deep breaths, one for courage, one for luck. Then he bowed, fist to his heart.

"Damas, where you go, I go. I will stand with you -- I swear on the Beacon -- even against the people who called themselves our friends. For our people."

Inside, he was shaking. This was a step he'd never taken. He'd never formally given his loyalty to anyone. If Damas didn't accept it-

Jak refused to think about that.

In an instant Damas’s entire posture softened. He placed both hands on Jak’s shoulders, and raised him back up.

"Do you understand what you're saying?" he asked in a hushed voice.

With a dry throat, Jak swallowed and nodded hard. He searched his mind frantically for the old Coastwatcher language Wastelanders still used for ceremonial purposes.

"A'neen Sabaa'geru vaqu."

We are Spargans.

"E'so Sabaa'geru vaqu, darro'ni," Damas answered gravely. You are of Spargus, my son.

It took him far less time to remember the old tongue.

He stepped back to scoop the band of snake vertebrae off his throne and looped it twice around Jak’s right arm before bringing their foreheads together for an instant.

"I will not forget this," he vowed. "I'm...proud of you, Jak."

Now we are one, son-of-my-heart, his spirit sang. What do I care if you have not earned your last amulet? Now and forever you are Spargan!

Jak's eyes glistened when Damas released him, but his crooked smile didn't budge. This was no childish impulse, he'd meant every word. And Damas would honor that pledge.

"Go, then," he said, returning the smile, "seek out your allies in Haven and tell me where they stand."

"We will." Jak squared his shoulders proudly.

"And," Damas added, raising a brow, "I will expect regular reports on your progress, Captain."

"Don't worry, I- Captain?!" Jak sputtered.

There was just a hint of mischief in Damas’s eyes as he gestured to the armband now covering Jak's bicep. "I am giving you the same authority to recruit citizens that I gave Sig. Use it wisely."

Scurrying up out of the water, Daxter rejoined Jak and smacked his leg repeatedly. He knew exactly who he was recruiting.

And who they weren't recruiting.

Jak stood straighter, stiffer, and Daxter felt him trembling just barely under his paw.

A captain? Him? No one listened to him, he was a glorified servant! What was Damas thinking, giving someone like him authority?

Don't screw this up, Jak. Don't screw this up, whatever you do.

He took a shaky breath. "I- I don't um. I don't know how to- to lead, or if anyone would listen to me but-" DON'T SCREW THIS UP!

"I'll-"

The words caught in his throat, then escaped past his teeth.

"I'll do my best to make you proud."

Damas grinned fiercely at him.

"You already do."

[artthemasquerade]

The Demon King's fall from Grace

So after writing for a week straight I thought it was time to throw myself back in the swing of making art again and apparently ambitious by making two versions of this picture, one of Zennon on his own and the other showing the contrast of who Zennon used to be before he turned from the powerful and glorious The Demon King into the monstrous and despicable Slum King when he took on the role of Satan's tormentor. A role in my Violence Jack AU Zennon would grow to regret as the actions he took as the Slum King were beyond anything he would've done and he had become just as bad of a tyrant as God.

Zennon's announcement to the world of the demon invasion is such an iconic moment in the manga that I'm mad its yet to be in an adaption! Also I thought it would be good to draw more of Zennon since he is one of my fave Devilman characters that needs more love imo And its been a year(I believe) since I last drew the Slum King and I thought I should get back to drawing my fave awful bastard too! XD

Btw if you like what you see and want a commission drop me a direct message on tumblr, instagram, a note on deviantart or artistree https://artistree.io/missn11

[coollyinterferes]

"Thing 's... why would I wanna be 'loud and proud' for one month when I can be loud and proud and also be a bloody menace all year long?"

[hopelittledreamer]

Born to deceive and assassinate the king and seize the throne for myself, Forced to study for an entrance exam 🥹🤝

[thesearenotphotographs]

Sounds of Detroit: Celebrating 50 Years of J Dilla featuring The Pharcyde, Rich Medina, and more at Herbert Von King Park

On Friday, July 12, 2024, SummerStage, in association with Fusicology & Future x Sounds, presented a free show in Herbert Von King Park in Brooklyn in celebration of producer J Dilla’s 50th birthday. There were DJ sets from Breakbeat Lou and Rich Medina plus live performances by Detroit’s Slum Village (J Dilla was a member of the group) and South Central Los Angeles’ The Pharcyde, whose sophomore album, Labcabincalifornia, was produced by J Dilla and released in 1995.

I covered the celebration concert on Friday night for BrooklynVegan and the full gallery is now available on their website here.

[thelittlestspider]

it would be insane to have fox and blaze's husband crash into each other in mad max style cars and then duel each other with gunblades backdropped by the flaming wrecks, but also...it kind of fucks.

[jcollinswrites]

Weeping Gods (WIP)

This tale sweeps you up and drops you back 3500 years into the past, straight onto the banks of the Nile, at the dawn of the Egyptian New Kingdom. The Empire has only been liberated from a hundred year old occupation. The scars left by the war are still healing and yet, threats loom on the horizon again. Some powerful artifacts have been stolen and the king entrusts you with their recovery. Suddenly finding yourself out of your depth and all out of options, you have no choice but to agree to the dangerous mission. You don't know what awaits you on this journey but you know one thing for sure: if you don't catch the enemies of the empire, you will risk more than your own life.

Take your fate into your own hands, solve mysteries, meet new friends, fall in love, learn about magic, monsters, spirits, gods, and have fun in the ancient Egyptian Kingdom in this historical fantasy novel.

The story is a work of fiction and is not historically accurate.

Features

Choose from 4 different origin characters, each with unique stories and choices that will follow you through the rest of the game: - a priest in over their head with a caring and loyal mentor - a noble very much in over their head with a problematic family - the captain of the Theban Guard, who is way too tired for this - a thief from the slums of Thebes, desperate for survival

Play as male, female or non-binary; gay, straight or bi.

Build friendships, rivalries, or find love with a young prince, a mysterious spymaster, a brooding spirit, an elite warrior… or even the pharaoh himself.

Explore Egypt through a series of adventures with a ragtag team of characters

Solve mysteries, climb the Great Pyramid of Giza, deal with the sparks of revolution, and help secure the kingdom's future

Warnings: The story will contain heavy and dark themes, excessive swearing, mental health problems, and optional sexual content, so it is recommended for mature audiences only. The whole list of triggering content can be found in the beginning of the demo.

The Romances

Narmer - A kind and patient man with a golden heart, a fierce sense of duty, a bloody past, and way too little free time.

Qenna (m/f) - The living enigma. Fun and casual at first glance, but why is everyone warning you against spending time with them?

Zaia (m/f) - Spends most of their time brooding or hiding from people, but they can be surprisingly cheeky with those they feel comfortable with.

Tabiry - A dependable and loyal woman, she is the type of person you could trust to have your back in any situation.

Ahmose (m/f) - Young and impressionable, with a dazzling smile and too much hope for a better future.

The Demo

Chapter 1 completed

Chapter 2 completed

Chapter 3 work in progress (patreon only)

Public demo word count : 298 000 words Patreon demo word count: 356 000 words Average playthrough on any origin: around 45 000 words

Last public update: 29. Nov. 2024. Last patreon update: 27. Dec. 2024. (First published: 14. Aug. 2024.)

DEMO | Patreon | FAQ | ROs and NPCs | Discord | CoG Forum | Ko-Fi (for tips)

[swordsandholly]

Fancy

Ch. 4: Black Out Days

Ao3 | Previous - Next | Masterlist

Vampire!Poly 141 x Fem!Fat!Reader

MDNI | cw: sickness, hallucinations, injury, some light dubcon

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life. Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate.

A/N: the tone of this story has sort of shifted as I’ve worked on the next few chapters/plot points. I hope it’s not too jarring, but I’m excited for the direction it’s going in.

Your mother rises out of her drunken stupor - spine too straight and head flopped back limply. As if her hips are the only thing capable of moving and her neck has snapped at every ligament. The worn sheets pool around her hips, torn neckline of her nightclothes exposing her gaunt, bruised collar bones.

She says your name in that sickening, gruff voice of hers. A voice too exposed to the poisons outside. Blood drips from the corner of her mouth, coats her teeth as she speaks. Black and viscous. “Oh, darling, what have you gotten yourself into?”

You’re small. A child kneeling by her bed like you always did, waiting for her to ask you to bring her water or pain pills. “What?”

“It’s easier if you give in.”

People aren’t buried anymore. There isn’t room. Your mother’s urn is painfully cold in your hands. You stumble as the train lurches. A new voice hisses above you. Wild eyes and big hands that leave clawing, bloodied stripes in their wake down your body. A flash of blonde, some sort of scar. An accent so old you don’t recognize it.

“It’s easier if you give in, little girl.”

You fall back, out of the train doors and onto something soft and silky. For a few beats you stay there, in the quiet. In the dark. Comfortable in a way so deeply foreign to you it might as well be alien. Until some thick cover pulls away from your face. John grins down at you, shirtless with his head resting on his hand and elbow on the pillow below him.

“Knew you were awake.”

You rub your eyes. “Wh- when did- when did I get here?”

He frowns, a deep crease forming in his brow. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve…” You run a hand through your sleep tangled hair. “I don’t know…”

“It could be so easy, Fancy.” He murmurs, voice low and far away. “It doesn’t have to be… this.”

“I can’t…” Something complicated swirls in your chest. A twisting of guilt and love and unadultered disgust.

The world shifts. You’re standing, now. Simon leans on the railing of the penthouse balcony, staring out at the city. He takes up so much space. Envelopes you without even touching you. “How many memories do you think a person can lose before they’re someone else entirely?”

“What?” You frown. There’s an ache in your head - a drumming pain growing more intense by the second. Your bones rattle along to the rhythm.

“It’d be so easy…”

You peel your eyes open only slightly. It hurts, as if they’ve been glued shut. An offensive light blazes in your face. It takes a moment before you realize the tingle on your skin comes from the UV lamp beside you. Did you fall asleep under it again? No matter how hard you blink your vision won’t clear. When you finally manage to swallow it feels like your throat has been lined with shards of glass.

You grope around the bed uselessly, hands unsure. The edge of the bed takes longer to get to than it should. With a low groan you crawl to the edge, barely managing to swing your legs over. Well, swing is a generous description. In reality you end up on your back on the floor, head thunking against some sort of plush rug or carpet. Your vision swims.

With another groan you slowly pull yourself up into a shaky stance. Wherever you are, it’s big. The bed you fell out of is easily a king with richly woven sheets and a thick comforter. The rug on the floor has such intricate patterns it makes your pounding head dizzy. There’s even a fireplace in the far corner, unlit at the moment.

Something different catches your eye - an item too familiar for this foreign room. Your box of valuables sits on an elegantly carved wooden dresser. Real, actual wood. You run your fingers over the strangely organic material, so rare that it almost feels more unnatural than the plastic plywood you’ve grown accustomed to in the slums.

You limp weakly toward the heavy door on the far wall. A whine escapes you as you pull it open, the heavy wood causes the hinges to creak quietly. You poke your head out, walking down the empty hall like a person with decade long atrophy. Sweat drips down your back, the sickness in your gut turning to anxiety as you realize where you are.

The penthouse.

Voices waft through the mostly open central area - deep and growling. A sound you might mistake for an angry beast if it weren’t for the intelligable words the noise makes up.

“Bloody ‘ell, Price, what the fuck?” That baritone could only belong to Simon. You poke your head around the corner of the wall, peaking into the living room where the four vampires stand.

“I know, I fucking know. I couldn’t-” An exasperated sigh. “I couldn’t lose her again.”

“So you fuckin’ marked ‘er?”

Your hand lifts shakily to the still sore cuts on your neck. They’ve scabbed over but barely. The action makes you look down at your hands - neatly bandaged. Recently, too, you think. At least if your blurred vision is to be believed.

“We’ll lose ‘er anyway if you fuckin’ scare ‘er away!” Simon’s volume continues to grow. He steps forward. John doesn’t back away.

“Guys…” Kyle tentatively steps in, hands outstretched between them as if stepping into a dog fight. He might as well be, frankly.

“You promised her you wouldn’t!” Simon’s voice wavers. It makes your heart skip, the unsteady sound so bizarre coming from him. “We all did!”

“Simon’s right.” Johnny crosses his arms. “We said we’d take our time. See where she’s at.”

“Weren’t exactly taking your time when you fucked her raw were you?” John snaps back. It’s shockingly childish and out of character for the man. Not that you would know. He sighs, rolling his wide shoulders. So much for not being angry about it.

Before you can make heads or tails of the scene playing out in front of you, your vision blackens, one leg stiffening and the other giving out. You barely catch yourself on some random side table, knocking it against the wall in the process. Despite your efforts to hold yourself up you collapse onto the cold, hardwood floor.

“Oh, baby girl.” It’s Kyle at your side first, cool hands tenderly enveloping you as he checks for damage.

“Don’t…” You push at his chest weakly. “Don’t touch me…”

“Dove-” A crack sounds throughout the penthouse, deafening and ringing as Simon’s palm comes into contact with John’s chest, forcing the man back a few steps.

“You’ve done enough.”

There’s a moment, long and silent as you watch them stare each other down. A power struggle. John is the head of the coven, objectively. The only way to change that is an exchange of power. A death. You’ve seen it out on the streets within lesser covens. Simon is bigger, but you can see the cold, dogmatic shift in John’s eyes. The look he gave you in the car. The one that says he is well and truly Right and there is nothing to stand between him and what is Right.

The moment ends when you double over, lungs heaving as you choke and cough. A slimy, viscous glob of red-black comes up from your throat. Barely liquid with the thickness of it. You fall limply against Kyle, as much as you’d rather be left in a dark alley than with these psychopaths your body just can’t hold itself up.

Someone scoops you up, pressing you tightly to their chest. Johnny or Kyle, you think. A touch so soft and sweet you might mistake it for love. Not that you would know. You’re back under the wave of nothing before you even touch the sheets.

You sit still as you can, arm growing tired of the stiff angle you have it positioned in. Laid out across some old loveseat that creaks every time you move even slightly. You don’t trust it to not have at least a little dry rot considering it’s from a good few centuries ago. One of those random pieces John hoards for some secret reason. The light positioned carefully above you feels too warm, discomfort making you twitchy.

“Johnnyyy!” You whine. “Hurry up!”

“Ye can do it, bonnie. Just sit like me.” He goes still. Inhumanly still. Transitioning from living (well, undead) being to a marble statue in barely a second. It sends a frightened shiver down your spine - the prey instinct in your hindbrain moving into overdrive.

You take a shaky breath. “I hate when you do that.”

When he does what? Has he done that before? Have you been here before?

“Jus’ be a good lass f’me.” Johnny murmurs. A different sort of shiver runs down your spine.

You recognize his room but it’s… different. Lighter, somehow, than the last time you were here. The only time you were here. The wall has far more drawings tacked to it, nearly doubling the amount and bleeding across onto another side of the room. You squint. It’s you. Well, mostly. All in different poses, some more salacious than others, each carved out with a deep attention to detail. Were… were those there before? They couldn’t have been.

Your body lights up, the room grows darker. Nearly pitch black. Your hips roll lazily. You feel… good. Ecstatic. The warmth from the light replaced by an immeasurable heat. The man below you comes into focus as the dream settles - a mountain. Blonde and pale and scarred. Part of his right ear is clipped off from a fight. At least you think it was a fight. His hair just barely long enough for you to tangle your fingers in. You’d know those dark eyes anywhere - the ones that look right to the very core of you. That know you wholly from Eve.

“Fuck, Si…”

“Tha’s my girl.” He grins. The action pulls at a scar covering his lips. “Always so good f’me.”

The hands on your waist lift you like nothing. Like you weigh as much as paper and are just as delicate. A burning fills you, a tension that pulls a grating whine from your chest.

A distant part of you remembers to question what this is. Why you’re here, with him. Why you’ve never seen his face before but seem to know every detail of it by heart. The rest of you falls into the moment without a care, allowing yourself to be consumed entirely by him and his desire. It’s all you want - all you need.

Simon’s voice rumbles in a sort of call and response to your devoted babbling. “I love you.”

You jolt, snapping forward and sloshing water around you. For a moment, you panic that you’re drowning. That you’ve been dropped into some great sea and left to flounder.

There’s a quiet rumble behind you, vibrating through your back. Simon. You couldn’t make out whatever he said.

You relax instinctively. Some unconcious part of you falls back into him. Until he runs a soap rag over your chest and you tense, clumsily attempting to cover yourself and curl into a ball. The water sloshes over the edge of the tub again. You don’t get very far, despite the massive size of the bath you’re utterly surrounded. Bracketed by Simon’s strong thighs and large hands.

“None of that.” He barks, pulling your arms back to continue washing you. “You’ve been sweatin’ in bed for four days. Gonna make y’self worse.”

Four days? Worse?

You stay quiet, limp and pliant as he pours a hefty glob of shampoo into your hair. Vanilla. Far too exhausted to put up any sort of fight. Not that you would win. It feels good, if you’re honest, the way he systematically scrubs every part of your scalp, slowly detangling with conditioner. You nod off for a moment, coming back when he pours water over your head to rinse you.

“Simon?” You murmur weakly.

He grunts.

“Why am I here?”

The hands in your hair pause. Only for a moment before going back to their gentle movements. “Because you’re ‘ome.”

You shiver, another coughing fit wracking your body. At least nothing comes up this time. There aren’t bandages on your hands, just the scabbing wounds that have obviously been carefully tended to. Even as the coughing subsides your breaths wheeze, shallow and hollow in your chest.

When you were young, your mother would set you in a cart to walk to the supermarket. The cracked streets would bump and rock you uncomfortably but it was better than walking all those miles. You always hated the market. Too loud and confusing. A maze of sterile white tile and shelving so high it felt giant to you.

One time you lost her, distracted by a massive plushie that she said you can’t afford. You’d stood there staring at it, angrily contemplating why you couldn’t afford it. What sort of societal disservice had been done that you can’t have that bright pink creature. Angry and lost you ended up wandering the aisles for what felt like an eternity. Walking through that white void in search of… you’re not really sure what, actually.

That confusion continues to eat at your mind as the aisles transition into a small, lush greenhouse. The UV lights above you would burn, if it weren’t for the large hat covering your head and shoulders. Gardening gloves protect your hands as you carefully harvest a few tomatoes. They came in so well this year, bright and firm.

You’re lost in it. The green. So accustomed to grays and neon lights that it feels unnatural. You turn your gloved hands over, palm up, down, up, down. They’re yours but distant. As if you’ve possessed some alternate version of yourself. You suppose you have, in a way, if these fever dreams are in pattern. Not that you remember the others well.

The lights turn off suddenly and you freeze, muscles tensing and hackles raising. You turn slowly as the door begins to creak open, trowel in hand. Not that it would do much against whoever has you cornered. John said to be wary.

He’s been acting strange lately.

Isn’t he always?

A hand clamps over your mouth and you shriek behind it. You claw at the stony hand covering you, instinct taking over. Adrenaline pulses through you.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me.” Kyle coos, letting you go quickly. “Sorry, love, I didn’t mean-”

“Don’t do that!” You snap, harsher than you meant. Or less so?

He deflates a bit, shoulders sagging. “Sorry, I just wanted to come in here with you for a bit.”

“Why?” You snort. Kyle is the only one brave enough to venture in. Even with an external light switch, the others are far too wary of the UV lights hanging across the roof to enter. It’s a joke between Simon and Johnny - that they’ll throw Johnny into the greenhouse if he doesn’t behave.

Kyle nods, scooting forward. You can barely make him out, the only light being that of the faux stars drifting gently through the fogged greenhouse glass. “Missed you.”

“I saw you, like, five minutes ago.” Did you?

He shakes his head. You wish they would tell you more. They always hold back so much, as if your puny human brain can’t grasp what they think. You could. You’d learn to. Even if it was some horrid, eldritch secret you would bear it for them. He pushes you back until you’re laying on the floor, slowly resting his weight on you and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Just let me stay like this for a bit.”

You frown, but only move to reach up and pet his hair. It’s smells like vanilla. He stole your shampoo again. A fraction of you screams, rails against the idea of being this close to an apex predator. To a man you don’t know. Strange. You know Kyle. You love him. Both the fear and the fondness swirl together into a confusing mixture in the back of your mind.

“We can stay. For as long as you want.”

Something heavy and cold coils around you. You weren’t out as long this time, you think. If you’re even awake now. The room is dark. A pitch black void that you float in outside of the grounding weight holding you in place. That vanilla scent felt so real, still wafting through your nose. A nagging sense of despair settles in your chest as it dissipates.

“Need t’go home.” You croak, unsure of why you say it. Your tongue feels heavy and numb. God only knows why.

“Ye are home.” Johnny murmurs in your ear, voice low.

“Not m’bed… sheets’r t’nice.”

“It’s yers.” Johnny’s arms tighten around you. His voice shakes. “It’s always been yers.”

“N-no…”

“Knew it was tae soon tae bring you back.” He buries his face between your shoulder blades. “Told Kyle it’d be tae much.”

“Wh-”

“Ye make us such a mess, bonnie.” He sighs. “Cannae believe Price-“

Johnny cuts himself off. You can’t find it in yourself to argue or press. A sob wracks you out of nowhere. Something about Johnny, about being wrapped up in his strong arms sends you over the edge of it all. The weight of him mimics the one in your chest.

“Dinnae cry.” Johnny sits up a bit, running a thumb under your eye.

“I’m s-so confused-“ You sob. “I can’t- I-“

Somewhere in the midst of your crying fit the bed dips in front of you. Kyle cages you in between himself and Johnny, pressing you tightly in the center. It makes you want to thrash, to fight and scream.

It also feels so, so good.

You’re back in the slums, in your apartment, with some random man groaning above you. He works down the street, you think. Smiles at you whenever you go get a coffee or cigarettes. You stare at the ceiling blankly. You brought him here… why did you bring him? What- You hiss at the living heat of his hands, burning through your skin - gut churning at the blue of his eyes. It’s wrong. Neither bright nor tranquil enough. You can’t voice it. Can’t place it. They’re just wrong.

You catch a flash of dark irises as you take drinks to some slimy little vampire paying on credit. Immortal but still poor. Pathetic. Suddenly, though, you don’t care when he and his friends grab at you, your gaze trained on the man lounged in a booth on the other side of the club. You can’t stop staring at him, something tugging at you deep down to go to him. His eyes connect with yours, and you nearly leap with joy when he waves you over.

Except, when you get close, you freeze in place. Straddling his lap, a crushing weight lands on you all at once. They’re not what you’re looking for…

What are you looking for?

You sob in your bed late into the night, pressing the heels of your hands to your eyes. You’re so lost. So hollow. You don’t know why - don’t understand what changed. Some portion of you carved out into nothing. A soulless tulpa born of someone’s imagination. You can’t be human, there’s no way you can be human and this empty. A walking carcass. Not even undead, just barely animated. A puppet, almost.

It’d be so easy…

You wake in a fog this time, limbs heavy. As much as you try to will your arms to move, they won’t quite do it right. Your hands glide over the soft fabric around you, barely moving a few inches. The muscles twitch and shake. It feels like wading through molasses and with a thousand pounds of steel strapped to your back as you attempt to sit up even slightly.

“There she is.” A familiar voice murmurs. It’s soft, comforting, but also incredibly far away. “Hey, lovie.”

“Kyle?” You croak. You might as well be speaking around a massive ball of cotton. There’s something hot and wet streaming down your face. Are you crying?

“You’re alright.” He murmurs, soothing down your hair. Petting you like a dog in pain. An injured, feral animal.

You collapse back on the bed - not that you made it that far in the first place - unable to see more than a few feet in front of you. Kyle, really. Kyle is all you can make out. His face so vivid you’re sure you could draw it from memory. “Where am I?”

He pauses. “…Your room.”

“M’chest hurts…”

“I know, lovie. We’ll make it better.”

“What’d y’do t’me…?” Your vision flashes in and out. You’re going back under, as hard as you try to fight it. The edge just comes closer. You teeter on your heels.

“You just breathed in some bad air. You’ve been out for… a while.” Somehow, you get the sense that what he says is an understatement. That there are layers he has to hold back. Simon said four, you remember, though you can’t quite define if that was real or a dream.

“I hate you.” You whisper, barely audible. “I hate all of you.”

“I know.” Kyle sighs, continuing to run his fingers through your hair. “I know.”

Teeth sink into you. A choked gasp escapes your lips, body stiffening and hands knotting into some thick cloth. The pain is searing but fleeting. A part of you, the present part of you, feels disgusted. Wants to shake and batter whatever parasite has you caught in its maw. Another part, a far more distant piece of you that you aren’t even sure is you, blossoms with warmth. You melt into the strong arms that hold you against a cool chest.

“John?” You murmur. Or, rather, this other you murmurs.

A low groan reverberates from his chest to yours. Your head gets lighter, vision fuzzy around the edges. A hand clamps over the bloodied parts of your neck. Your vision fractures, partially the scene in front of you and partially the ceiling of your room that isn’t your room. Your lashes flutter and you’re back loosely straddling John’s lap.

“Yes, love?” He pants, mouth and teeth stained red. It sends a wave of panic through your veins.

You swallow roughly. “I don’t-”

Something shatters - the staccato sound reverberating through the apartment.

You startle, sitting up and throwing your blankets back. The bed is empty, room dark except for the few embers trapped in the fireplace off to the side. You don’t notice the box missing from your dresser.

“Hello?” You frown, standing and moving toward your door as if possessed by some external force. As if you at all know where you are going. Your bare feet pad quietly against the hard wood, door silently sliding open a fraction.

There’s another smashing sound. Your heart rate spikes, fear coursing through your veins. No one’s home - they left days ago. On business.

How do you know that?

Suddenly you’re in the living room of the apartment, crouched behind the couch and groping underneath for one of the silver daggers stashed around in various hiding spots. An insurance policy. Your breath comes in short, rapid gasps. You have to get out. Get downstairs. There’s security down there. They’ll help you, they know you.

How do they know you? How did you know the knife was there?

With the small dagger gripped tightly in your fist, you flinch at another smash. It came from John’s room across the apartment, another following right after. It sounds like this person (or people) tore his metal bed-frame apart. Splintered into pieces.

You take the opportunity to carefully move toward the front exit, allowing the noise to cover the sound of your movements. Damn the open concept design. You told John you didn’t like it. Breaths come in faster and shallow. You’re not built for running - too soft from all that pampering. A chubby, well loved pet. Not that you’re complaining. It’s just not the best for this particular moment.

A figure moves at lightening speed from John’s room to Kyle’s. You duck down behind the kitchen counter, covering your mouth to stifling the sound of your breath.

“I can smell ya.” A low voice taunts, echoing through the apartment. Fortunately, your scent is everywhere. It will take longer to distinguish where you are in particular than he may think.

Why is your scent everywhere again?

There’s more tearing and smashing. A door groans loudly as the intruder tears it off the hinges. More shattering. Your heart breaks a little - that must have been Kyle’s pottery. Oh he worked so hard on those. Some of them are from a century ago.

Anger begins to boil up your spine. Who is this fuck who thinks he can just wreck your home? Someone you know, for sure. He would have had to be invited in at some point. With a sneer you continue making your way through the penthouse, toward the front door. John’s going to rip this fucker in two when he gets back.

Except, just as you’re reaching for the front door, the vampire exits Kyle’s room. You meet his eyes - glinting in the dark of the hall. There’s barely a beat before you begin to rush, opening the door as fast as you can.

Not fast enough, of course. You’re only human, after all.

A scream rips it’s way through your throat as you connect with the far wall, knife clattering who knows where. Something broke, you’re not sure what. Every nerve ending seems to light on fire as you try to sit up. Your arm doesn’t move more than a twitch when you try to stand.

“Hey there, little girl.” The man pins you suddenly. You get the nagging sense that you know him, his name on the tip of your tongue. Buried somewhere under lock and key in your mind.

You thrash, punching at his chest and tearing at his hair. To no avail, of course. He just lets you, a cruel grin spreading wider and wider the harder you try to get away.

“What do you want!” You finally sob, going limp when your body finally gives out under pain and exertion.

“To destroy John’s coven. Obviously.” He huffs. “Yer step one.”

The vampire grabs your jaw in an iron grip, your teeth crack under the pressure as his pupils dilate. They’re bright - so blue and infinite and you can’t look anywhere else no matter how hard you try.

A clarity washes over you almost violently as you come to - like breaking through the surface of water after staying under too long. Everything from yo ur time under washing away, sinking back into the deep. A forgotten wreckage - old and twisted and grown over. Another lost Atlantis somewhere in the depths of your mind.

“John?” The name falls from your lips before you even realize you’re speaking, before his face comes into focus. Soft and familiar - comforting and enraging.

“Right here, dove.” He murmurs, dabbing your face with something damp and cool.

“Wh…” You swallow roughly, not entirely sure what you even want to say. So any words threaten to spill from your lips and yet your mind feels blank. All fuzz and static.

You want to beg him to let you go. To keep you forever. To tell you why he brought you here despite the ever nagging sense that you know why. Something deep in your marrow that connects you to this place - to these men - at the very soul. You are theirs and they are yours and you want nothing more than to run from them as far as you can go.

Those blue eyes focus on yours, so oddly gentle for all of their inhuman qualities. “We’ll talk when you’re better, okay?”

Talk about what? There isn’t anything to talk about. You don’t know them and they don’t know you, no matter what that tugging in your chest tells you. You’ve lied to yourself before - you’ve lied to others before - surely you’re just doing it again. This man hurt you. Marked you, whatever that means, so why do you still melt into his touch?

Your name falls from his lips, reverent and frightening. You blanch, eyes wide and mouth falling open. You didn’t tell him that. You didn’t-

“Just sleep for now, yeah?”

~~~

John watches intently as you fall back asleep. There was panic in your eyes for a moment, but your sick body can’t do much more than drift in an out of consciousness. You look more peaceful this time, at least, your breathing even and your body still. You’d been thrashing before, for what reason he isn’t sure. The lower city’s poison air does a number on the body, it’s effects only growing worse as time goes on and the pollution becomes more dense.

He did that, didn’t he? He left you and now you’re sick and hurt. John runs his fingers over the Mark, nearly entirely healed now. Just two small, faded marks that will follow you to the grave.

“I’m so sorry. I just keep failing you, don’t I?” He sighs. You always said he was a good man even when he didn’t believe it. Even with all the things he’s done. Would you still agree?

John‘s eyes sting. He’d be crying if he was human, surely.

He glances at the door. The others are out - taking care of business while he watches over you. The world doesn’t stop even when you need it to desperately. It took Johnny and Kyle nearly dragging Simon away to leave you alone with him.

He takes your hands in his, guilt wrecking him. They’re so much smaller, so much warmer. He can feel your pulse in every fingertip. Surely he’s ruined any chance to fix this before they could even try. He wouldn’t blame Simon if the man decided there needed to be a change - that John needs to be removed. He wouldn’t fight it.

John crawls into bed beside you like he’s done so many times before. Nestles under your pink silken sheets - the ones you picked out for Christmas. That was years go, now. Over two. Two tortorous, draining years that felt longer than the past six hundred.

He ran for days. Weeks maybe. Tearing through the city block by block, dodging and weaving between people and buildings alike. Speaking to anyone, using up every connection and resource he ever gained under this damned dome. It took a week to get through the sewer system.

No one knew where you went.

No one heard a thing. At least, nothing they would admit to. Even under compulsion.

You were gone, just like that.

Two years go by in the blink of an eye for a vampire. Might as well be a day, a night, a handful of hours. Time in such small increments is nothing to an immortal. Decades are barely enough to measure with. Not for them, though. Every second drug on. The days were long and tense.

A fracture formed between them. Kyle retreated into himself - quiet and frayed around the edges. Sometimes John caught him with a far away look in his eye, staring at nothing. He thinks Kyle would have been crying in those moments if he could. Johnny became far too unpredictable. Ripping and tearing any lower level vampire he can find. He spent a few months hunting Frenzies in the lower city without contact.

And Simon…

Simon turned into a fucking nightmare.

After the first year, they at least hoped to find your body. After the second anniversary of your disappearance came around, they gave up. The guilt of giving up brought a whole new wave of grief on them. Johnny laid in your bed for weeks, nearly beginning to petrify as he denied any blood. John couldn’t blame him, opting to re-read your favorite books with shaking hands. Simon fished your last knitting project, eyes heavy and tired. Kyle meandered listlessly through the house, sometimes laying with Johnny but most often sequestering himself in the now empty greenhouse.

They try to fill the hole with pretty girls that look sort of like you. Never enough and they never act like you. Too busy placating to snap at them like you were so willing to do. These others are only place fillers - something to take up the space you left between them. They could never truly fill it, though. It was far too great. A chasm that continues to swallow the four of them whole.

He’s so tired. The others were, too. Kate handled business well enough but their involvement was still required. Each issue and event weighing on them more and more. Kingpins of the city and they’ve been nearly ruined by the loss of a single girl. A single, human girl. None of it mattered in the face of what they lost.

John looks up, the pin-drop silence in the room bringing his attention back to the present.

And there you are.

Like Lazarus returned. An angel bathed in low, red light. Your hair spills around your shoulders framing that face he knows so well, one he’s held more times than he can count. A face that made him pray to a god he does not believe in every day to get back. Just once. Those unmistakable pearls grace your neck, the ruby latch glinting as you twist your neck and tuck your hair behind your ear.

“I’ll be your Companion tonight.” You say so softly. Almost the way you used to, laid up in his bed, whispering about nothing and everything with your fingers running through his hair. Asking about the things he’s seen with such awe.

“What happened t’ Cherry?” Kyle asks faux casually. John can feel the tension in the man next to him. He’s feeling it out - always so good at that. Better at human subtleties than the rest of them. His dark eyes sparkle, though, with a light John hasn’t seen in so long. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed it.

“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You slide the tray onto the table. You look the same. You sound the same. There’s a few new scars, some scratches here and there. A wariness in your eyes that wasn’t there before. Damage done to your skin that could only come from the lower city air.

Where have you been?

You shift nervously. “If I’m not to your standards-“

“Well, now, none of us said that.” John says far too quickly, smiling despite himself. It might not even be you. Maybe a doppelganger. A distant relative. A clone is more plausible. “What’s your name, dove?”

“Fancy.” And oh, John is sure his dead heart comes back to life. It is you. It has to be.

“Fittin’.” Johnny says, eyes raking over you. He might as well be vibrating, struggling to keep himself held back from yanking you into his hold.

They’re all measuring you up the same way he is. Feeling for anything unfamiliar. Outside of your distant, distrustful gaze with a lack of recognition that makes his chest ache, it’s you. It’s all you.

“Do you know who we are?” Simon murmurs. You’re having trouble looking at him, only meeting his gaze in small glances. Not so different from when they first met you. You and Simon have always had a certain… connection. Not that you weren’t all close - that they all didn’t love you deeply - but you and Simon had an understanding. He wonders if you can still feel it somewhere, deep down in the back of your mind.

You’re panicking a little, eyes flitting between their faces. John’s heart sinks. He feels it in the others. A deep disappointment - a turbulent melancholy- seeping into their bodies. You don’t know them. You don’t recognize a single one of them.

It’s all gone.

“It’s not a trick question.” Kyle says gently, ever one to soothe.

“No, sir.”

John’s heart breaks all over again.

A/N: My initial summary for this one was just “Fancy tripping balls on pollution while John and co. have a meltdown”

[missn11]

[strangersteddierthings]

Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[artthemasquerade]

The Unequal Union Of The Slum King and White Queen

I was inspired by the painting The Unequal Marriage by Vasili Pukirev to make this picture of the wedding of the Slum King and the White Slum Queen(Ryo)Even with Ryo being emotionally and mentally beaten down by the Slum King into believing that he is in love with his cruel husband and is deserving of any abuse inflicted onto him, he cannot bring himself to feel happy on what is meant to be the happiest day of his life. Instead, Ryo cannot shake the feeling that he is even more trapped than before...

Btw if you like what you see and want a commission drop me a direct message on tumblr, instagram or a note on deviantart

[marthawrites]

Between the Covers

Modern Aemond Targaryen x girlfriend reader

Word count: 3.4k+

Can be read as a one shot but reads best as part two to Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

About: During a cozy night in at your place, Aemond discovers your new taste for “literature”. Upon confronting you about it he makes a deal. Part of you wants to say no… but, you ultimately agree to his terms.

Includes: Established relationship, fluff, teasing, banter, and smut featuring breast play (reader is implied to have sensitive breasts), minor vampire play, pussy eating, vaginal fingering, Aemond loses his mind at the mention of blood sucking, dirty talk, vaginal sex, and reader and Aemond say 'I love you'

Note: Hello lovely reader! This might be ooc for Aemond but it's ic for the Aemond in my heart! My heart and pussy wrote this so if you have a problem with it up take it up with them!! Reader is non-descript! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic ♥

Autumn turned to winter, then winter to spring, and things with you and Aemond were better than ever. According to Aegon the two of you were “disgustingly cute”, and Helaena, on more than one occasion, admitted how she’d never seen her little brother so happy. 

Alys, despite her best efforts, had been fully removed from the picture after the last big fight that had you and Aemond taking a long self-reflecting break. 

Perhaps the universe really did do you a favor by making you face an ugly side of yourself–jealousy, distrustfulness, suspicion. Was it fun to look at in the eyes? No. Absolutely not. But, it made you realize things about yourself which ultimately lead you and Aemond to give the relationship another chance: a real honest chance. 

He too was far from perfect and had his own baggage and scores to settle. But at the end of the day you two were fucking wild for each other. And that’s all that mattered.

While your third floor apartment wasn’t anything compared to the sprawling Targaryen estate, it was cozy and located in one of the nicer neighborhoods in King’s Landing. Any city had its slums and dark underbellies, but thankfully you didn’t have to deal with either of those. Inwardly you were convinced that if you did live in one of those shady places that Aemond would swoop you away to his own private quarter in his family’s mansion. The idea of moving in together had been hinted at a couple times and each time your belly–and heart–did flips. One day, sure, maybe. But, now? You hadn’t even been together for a year yet. Moving in together was a huge commitment.

Perhaps something to consider for your three-year plan. 

Or, one-year plan.

You both had a free day tomorrow, so Aemond took advantage of it and stayed the night. After dinner you took a shower and he waited in your bedroom, searching for something to watch. 

There were so many choices. Why was there always so many choices? It made it such a challenge to actually decide on something!

When you came out with damp hair and your favorite pajamas–a big shirt and cute underwear–you proclaimed, “I saw an A24 movie last night I think we’d both like!”

He looked over at you from where he lay lounging on your bed in black sweats and a white tee, barely contained amusement plastered on his face. “As much as I love those, I’m less interested in movies now that I’ve found this,” he said, holding up the latest book you’ve been reading. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

Did you forget to put it back on your shelf? Warmth flooded your face. “Baela was talking about it and she talked it up so much I had to check it out!” You admitted a little too quickly, hiding an embarrassed smile behind a hand.

“Uh-huh,” he smirked. “Vampire smut? If you’re so bored by The Two Towers all you had to do was say something.”

Your eyes–no, your whole face–brightened with shared amusement. “What! No, it’s not smut. There’s plot!” You said defensively (perhaps not convincingly, though, with the giggle), as you hopped on the bed and straddled him. His slim hips fit so easily between your bare, soft thighs, it was almost criminal. Mischief sent his eye twinkling. You took the book from him and cleared your throat, preparing to read the synopsis on the back. “Listen, ‘kay? This explains it really well.”

“Already read the back,” he said, sly. “And comments on goodreads. Seems to be extremely popular with women. There were… lots of caps, exclamation points, sweaty face and fire emojis… rave reviews.” Sometimes when he smiled–really smiled–he had little dimples; they were out on full display, now. He ran his wide, warm palms up your thighs, thumbs skimming dangerously close to that delicate space between your thighs he loved so, so fucking much. “Do you want to know what my favorite part is though?” He asked as if it were a secret.

Goosebumps tickled your skin as he teased you. You didn’t bother to put a bra on and you suddenly became acutely aware of your t-shirt’s texture as your sensitive nipples tightened beneath it. How easily your body reacted to his. “What’s your favorite part?”

He took the book from you and opened it. Smirking, he read Baela’s note she left for you on a post-it sticky, his voice an octave or two higher: “‘chapter 32 might be the hottest thing I’ve ever read in a book. It will change your life.’” He peered up at you with an arched brow. “Have you got to chapter 32 yet?”

You were blushing and giggling and trying so hard to not rip the book from his hands and smother his taunting face with one of your many pillows. “Oh my gosh shut up you are terrible!”

He laughed. “You’re the one reading vampire smut!”

“There’s plot!”

Aemond flexed beneath you and the next thing you knew you were on your back beneath him. His long silver-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and it hung over his shoulder threatening to tickle your face. “My pretty girl still hasn’t answered me,” he said as he pinned you down, lowering to nip your earlobe. “Or will I have to use compulsion to get it out of you, hm?”

You felt his grin against your neck, heard it in his question, and before you could stop yourself a little moan escaped your mouth because he bit you. Really bit you. His teeth, clean and sharp, clamped around a mouthful of your neck. He drew it into his mouth, sucking, and–fuck it was hot–you then understood why women in silly vampire books gave in so easily to the predator. You knew your pulse had to be jumping right there in the flesh he held between his teeth. All those giggles from before vanished and were replaced with small gasps. You squeezed your hands over his shirt-covered shoulders, answering, “n-no… I haven’t read that far yet.”

He relaxed his mouth and licked up the same bit of skin he’d been biting, kissing it softly. “Good,” he replied. “You can read it out loud to me now.”

That perked you right up. “Oh my god Aem! No!” 

“But I’m sooo curious to know what happens when she goes inside the castle. I skimmed the last chapter you were on. Something about him loving the smell of her blood, barely able to control himself around her, and she’s stuck there with him now?”

You were laughing again. “You’re such an ass!”

“Those are very important plot points,” he said smoothly, matter-of-factly. “And it’s chapter 31. So all the tension will lead up to the famous chapter 32.” He kissed you as he spoke; your mouth, jaw, neck, collarbone, whatever he could reach.

You were still laughing, but his kisses relaxed you, too. You pushed your hands up beneath the front of his shirt and gently scraped your fingernails over his abdomen. His chest. You felt his muscles quiver slightly beneath your touch. You loved how his body reacted to you. While stroking between the patch of hair at the center of his chest, and the trail of hair below his navel, you asked, sheepishly, “what if I get embarrassed?”

It was his turn to perk up. Pulling back, he looked down at you with a mixture of deviousness and softness that had your heart flipping. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Why am I have scared to hear this deal? But… okay, let’s hear it,” you replied, smiling and biting your lip.

“As long as you keep reading, I’ll keep eating your pussy.”

Yet another wave of heat rushed to your face and along your spine. You really, really hoped Aemond couldn’t see the blush of your features. Knowing him, however, he probably did… or at least saw the spark of desire, excitement, and embarrassment in your eyes. “You really wanna hear me read this stupid book?”

He nodded. “Yeah. And I wanna eat you too. So, why not both?”

“Well, when you put it that way…,” you mumbled in agreement, grabbing your book and opening to where you last left off.

Aemond shuffled triumphantly and smiled one of those smiles that if he did indeed have fangs they’d certainly be showing. He kissed your throat as he pushed the bottom of your shirt up, grazing his fingertips along your belly as he did so, not stopping until the softness of your breasts melted against his palms. Squeezing the sensitive mounds, he gave your neck one last little nip before lowering to your bared tits. He made a noise in his throat at the sight of them–your pretty nipples peaked with need–and he held each in a hand. Looking up at you he asked, "how long do you think you’ll last reading?” He squished your tits together so your nipples were as close together as they could be. Hot mouth wrapped around one and he sucked, greedily drawing it into his mouth. He relished the sensation as well as your gasp of surprise. He relaxed his mouth and let your tit free only to repeat the motion to the other one.

Fuck. He’d barely started, you hadn’t even begun reading, and you already felt warm tension pull in your belly. Your breasts have always been sensitive. Sometimes when you were feeling especially needy, and Aemond especially wicked, he’d suck your tits until you came. Part of you wondered if he meant to do that now with how he lavished them. “Shit–Aem! Not long if you keep this up…!” You moaned, biting your lip again as your eyelids trembled closed. “Haven’t even let me start yet..!”

A laugh rumbled in his chest. “You’re right…,” he said, slowly circling his tongue around and between your nipples. “Go ahead and start reading then, baby. I’ll get nice and comfortable between these thighs.” 

True to his word, he did. Your boyfriend meant to murder you. Without a fucking doubt. Straight up murder.

With a shuddering breath you began to read aloud.

Aemond kissed over your covered pussy, not yet bothering to move your underwear aside or take them off. He wasn’t trying to be especially distracting yet, but he loved knowing you were wet and eager for him. He kissed the insides of your thighs–that impossibly soft dip where your thigh met your pelvis–and even the underswell of your asscheeks as your legs spilled open. He knew right where your clit was. He licked over it through your panties. Teasing. Coaxing. Hoping to hear your voice warble with want.

It did. There was no way you’d be able to keep this up for the rest of the chapter as well as the next chapter. The main female character, a human, had just re-dressed into something suitable for dinner. In this case, a gown that complimented the color of her skin and shape of her body. And the main male character, a vampire, was waiting for her to finish. Before this, the tension had indeed been all over the place. Blood, desire, lust, everything sinful about the undying charisma of vampires. At the end of the chapter she walked downstairs only to make him utterly darken with lust. And, at the end of the chapter, Aemond pulled the front of your panties aside to finally give the full length of your pussy a hot, slow lick. You gasped in time with the main female character’s gasp.

“Think he sinks his teeth into her pretty neck and finally takes what he wants?” Aemond asked, low and somewhat muffled, as he turned his gaze up to your heated face.

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You half thought he was joking about the whole thing! But… then again, you knew Aemond pretty damn well by now and knew he wasn’t the prankster type. You moaned softly at the slow, wonderful feeling of his tongue on your clit. Then, you answered in a shaky breath, “it’s the temptation. He worships her. Or… at least her blood. He won’t tear her apart. He needs her.”

He made one of his classic little ‘mmm’s in thought. “Keep reading, baby. I’m dying to see what happens.” Another lick, another kiss to your most sensitive bud, and a gentle suck. 

Fuck–if he kept this up?! Pleasure rippled up your body in goosebumps and your voice shook as you read into the new chapter.

Somehow the book tension intensified even further. Between that, and how Aemond continued to slowly eat you, your head felt dizzy. Really, honest to God, you didn’t know how much more you could take. Then, the next line started to crumble some of that tension: “The vampire lord kissed the top of the lady’s hand, and when he did his fingers grazed the delicate webbing of veins on the underside of her wrist. Her scent bloomed beneath him. A perfume. His jaw ached with the need to consume. To consume her.”

Aemond picked up pace, too, as did your pulse. He balanced you on the edge of bliss and wouldn’t yet let you go. 

You began to stammer over words. You even left some unfinished. Because now you read a scene that was strikingly similar to your current situation. The vampire had his lady laid back and sprawled on the staircase, her skirts bunched high, his starved tongue feasting between her thighs.

Aemond groaned appreciatively. He worked you higher and higher, selfishly making it harder for you to read out loud, and savored each and every little dip and rise of your voice. His good girl. So fun, and playful, and willing to entertain his silly ideas. God, he loved you. He memorized all the signs of orgasm in your body. He could hear them. Feel them. He knew you were getting close, but he didn’t want you to come yet. There was still more to be read. Right before climax could claim you, he stopped.

“Aemond!” You squealed, near breathless. You looked down at him, accusatory, blissful eyes glaring. “Not fair!”

“Did I forget to mention I’ll only let you come when I want you to? Sorry, love, my bad.”

“How convenient of you,” you retorted.

“Do keep going though? I have a feeling he’ll need a taste of her blood now that he’s tasted her cunt.”

Begrudgingly, you did. And, as luck would have it… (did he read ahead while you were in the shower!?): “The vampire lord’s cock strained in his breeches, throbbing with a pulsing need that sent his mind to delirium. He never craved anything so badly as he did her.”

Aemond made more of those ‘mmm’s in agreement as he started to slowly work you up again. He pressed his tongue into you and let his nose rub against your clit. His hands rubbed and squeezed over any part of your body he could. Waist, belly, hips, thighs, anything; he loved all of it. He could lay here and do this all fucking night–vampire smut or no.

It became harder and harder to keep reading. Between little moans, whimpers, and firm bites to your lip, you kept trying. By now, the chapter progressed to both of them in various stages of undress on the staircase. “The vampire lord claimed her body with his hot, rigid manhood. At the same time he filled her with his cock, he sunk his teeth into her neck.”

After that you were no longer able to make words. A finger replaced Aemond’s tongue as his mouth lavished your clit. You dropped the book and neither of you seemed to care anymore. One of your hands gripped into his hair–more than likely making the sleek pull back of his ponytail a mess–while your other hand played with your breasts. Seemingly effortlessly, a second finger joined the first and your hips rolled in a desperate need for more. “A-ah yes!”

A soft dark laugh rumbled from him as he watched you from below. “You’re so fucking wet your pussy just sucked my finger in. I barely had to move it. Getting close again, my love?” He asked as those two deft, long fingers worked your inner walls with blinding precision. “I love how you were blushing and fumbling with your words when you read. Fuck–you’re so pretty with my fingers in you.”

A familiar tightness began to build in your legs. The inside of your thighs started to tremble. Your head, fuzzy as it already was, buzzed with your body’s anticipation. Pleasure. So much pleasure. Your fingers tweaked your nipples for that extra little push, and apparently that’s exactly what you needed.

Aemond’s tongue was on your clit again, quick and light compared to the harsh way he fingerfucked you. This time he didn’t edge you along.

Orgasm, beautiful and consuming, swallowed you into a starless dark. When you came back to yourself your head was heavy. The tips of your fingers tingled. Everything felt light. Like you weren’t quite inside your own body yet. “What the fuck Aems…,” you whispered, smiling like a dork.

That was one of the best orgasms and he fucking knew it. He had to know it. 

He carefully rolled away from you to let you catch your breath. “Better than the book?”

“Without question.”

He grinned as he watched you regain yourself. Once he was sure you were okay he pulled you on top of his naked form. When did he take his clothes off? “Always so sweet to me,” he said with that same grin. “I can still taste you on my tongue and need to feel you on my cock. Now.”

You didn't need to be told twice. Your body was ready for him as soon as he moved you atop him. He looked so good, so handsome, so devastatingly perfect as he sat there against your headboard, your bodies meshing together so well. His lean arms wrapped around you, nails scratching down your back, as you lined up with him.

The stretch was unfuckingbelievable. 

Moaning in unison, he rolled his hips up into you with one hand gripped on your waist. Your breasts squished against the firm planes of his. Your scent, your skin, your lust all around him. The squeeze of your cunt around his entire length had him half crazy. There wouldn't be any more teasing. 

You ground onto him, desperate to fuck him as silly as he had fingered you. 

One of his hands gripped the hair at the back of your head and tugged downwards, exposing the fullness of your throat to him. Your neck. He bit you again–all but sinking his teeth into your flesh–and fucked up into you with added fervor. 

“God!” You squeaked, whimpering through your surprise. “Yes, yes, yes, keep biting me..!” You pleaded, bouncing on him in time with his upward rolls.

That's how you both stayed–his teeth on your neck, your fingernails leaving pink scratches on his pale skin, grinding and fucking each other with raw desire–until climax washed over both of you.

You were both panting, a little sweaty, and intoxicated by each other.

A couple minutes later, amidst pillow talk and teasing one another, Aemond asked, “would you read more to me another time?”

You looked at him cheekily. “Seriously?”

“Yes. I’m very interested in the plot,” he said with obvious innuendo. “And I don’t think you quite understand what you saying words like ‘cock’ ‘cunt’ and ‘blood sucking’ does to me.”

That sent you into another fit of giggles. “You’re insane!”

He rolled on top of you and smirked down at you. “Well?” He asked, grazing the tip of his nose against yours.

“Okay, okay. Yeah, I will.”

Pulling the blankets up around your bodies, you turned on the movie you mentioned earlier. Aemond laid on his back and scooped you against him, legs immediately intertwining with one another. Sated. Happy; even as your skin pleasantly burned where he left dark hickies behind.

“Thanks for that. It was a lot of fun,” he whispered against the crown of your head.

“Yeah it was,” you agreed. “I love you, Aem.”

“I love you too.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

book 7 part 11 thoughts! (nov 29th update)

***THIS POST CONTAINS MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR BOOK 7 PART 11 OF THE MAIN STORY!!*** This spans part 212 to part 226, focusing on Leona. Jack and Ruggie's parts can be seen here.

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

The gang lands in… Sunrise City again? Importantly, there is a new effect that plays which differentiates it from the Sunrise City of Ruggie’s dream. There are now dust and tumbleweeds.

Ruggie and Jack are totally fine with the turbulent flight over, since they’re used to bumpy rides on brooms while playing magift/spelldrive. Azul, however, is not doing so hot (because of the flight + weather). Ruggie takes pity on the poor octoboi and looks for a stall to buy him a cheap drink like tea or something. That’s when Ruggie notices something weird… the city is way more desolate than usual, and many of the stalls that are normally selling are no longer there or are closed up.

He tries to talk to some NPCs, but they notice he’s a hyena and hide out of fear. Well, that’s just… odd. So the group decides to scope out the palace (the most likely place Leona would be) to get to the bottom of things!

We arrive at the outskirts of the palace and the uh… coloring… is ominous.

Silver comments that they didn’t see any royal guards so the Sunset Savanna must be a very peaceful country :DD (… Oh, you poor, sweet, summer child…)

Ruggie tells him that no, this is definitely strange! Normally there would be many female guards around, in what world would it be easy to sneak into a palace undetected?! The current head of the royal guard is a female lion beastwoman, and most of the guards are females who are proud of their skill and strength. Many girls apparently do martial arts as children and then volunteer to be guards.

They come across some hyena beastmen who are laughing loudly. Their garb is that of Sunset Warriors, who, if you recall from Tamashina Mina/Cloudcalling on the Savanna, is a title that is highly coveted + honorable and earned through winning a Cat the Tail/Bead Brawl tournament (that people often train hard for). But these NPCs aren’t honorable or even that skilled to begin with, so Ruggie senses something is WAY wrong.

The NPCs become darkness (it seems the dreams are becoming a lot more actively aggressive in the Savanaclaw segments) and we beat them up.

The guards chase us but Idia uses his Mad Gamer Skills to hack open a door and then lock it so they cannot pursue us. We overhear some shouting and…!

OH MY GOSH… Kifaji finally gets s voice?!!?!?! He’s pleading with someone to take action because the country is starving.

We sneak over to the throne room (which looks frighteningly similar to that one scene where Scar is lounging on rocks which poor Zazu is caged)… AnD YUP TheRE GE iS 😭 LEONA THE pRINcE (KINg) OF sUNSET SaqvCANNA)

AD BfsvkugvukevuylFI GOYQELGQEGIOYOG7QEOfwp9FFG9Fw HORYKAM AFDK DFHBLAGIOEYEQOGAGENNAGOUIAG OOTL THAT KLSOoKKS NICE AFN HADBLADBIHLDBIADGBIADGIOYGOVUEGYAIOAGABHIG KFDGSBHJDGBHLAGBIAGEIBGE PLEA DSN SE DREES LIEK THOA T LMORE PODFTNETN DFSBKLAFJAFBHLGBIUPAGIVYAAPIDMK OT AS;OBUGDAIYOADGYIADGOVIYAGOIEGPBIQEG

[Brain buffering...]

SORRY WHERE WAS I

Kifaji mentions that Leona’s father has passed from illness, and tragedy befell his older brother, Falena, and his family (I assume Cheka and the wife are also out of the picture??) so Leona has now succeeded him. In this dream, Leona claims to have “cleaned up” the slums, pushed development, and mined the hell out of the country. They made a lot of money, but… at the cost of ignoring the advice of his advisors + the public’s opposition and destroying their environment. His style of ruling is just not sustainable.

Leona says he won’t listen to those who cling to old customs. Kifaji admits that Leona’s plans to improve the country were innovative but still…! This is too much. He tries to get Leona to see reason by reminding Leona that people AREN’T like chess pieces. People are so different and can work in ways you may not want them to. As king, Leona HAS to understand that and work with them regardless. Unfortunately, Leona refuses to acknowledge anyone but himself as competent.

Apparently those guards from earlier were the result of Leona giving jobs to people because they needed it. Leona being Leona, however, never gave them proper training and demands that Kifaji handle that.

OH MAn 💀 They hear shouting and it seems like there is a protest outside??

Dream!Ruggie is leading a crowd. He says stuff like how Falena was a better ruler than Leona ever was. They want food, they want nature back; they don’t want a king.

LMAOv???!!?!!?,) NOT LEONA GOING “damn, if they hate it here so much then they should just leave”????? 😭 THIS IS EXACTLY WhaT OUT OF tOUCH RICH poLITICIANs SAy WHEN PEopLE XOMPLaaiN AbOUT THEiR POLICiES

Leona orders Kifaji to shut up the protestors, he can’t nap like this 💀 Some things never change, I guess…

Ruggie takes them to the same luxury hotel we stayed at for the Tamashina Mina event (he expects Idia to pay for them lmao). It looks like not even this fancy place has any ingredients left though…

Idia retreads what he said in book 6; isn’t Leona the type to realize he’s in a dream? Yet he is deeply immersed in it. Silver wonders why Leona dreams of terrible things happening (like tragedy upon his family and the people hating him) if this dream is meant to be happy. Idia suggests that this is because Leona’s dream is like a sandbox game; ie Leona is “playing around” with the possibility it provides and clearly seems to be aware of the consequences that come with it (hence the terrible things Silver mentioned earlier). So maybe he’s catastrophizing…?

cbjsvsjwkw They talk about midnight snacking for a bit??

Idia talks about procedural generation and how the dream has to accommodate + load new maps as the player shifts around. But Leona doesn’t do that??? So it’s impressive or something cbsbbskskw I could be misunderstanding this part, I don’t know how tech stuff works 💦

They brainstorm some way to take away the king’s authority… and decide to use Cheka!! Ortho downloads a 3D model from Styx and Ruggie uses his UM to puppet it!

They try to break through the protestors and things get violent 😔 ashbfbiadiab LIKE ONE FO THE GUARDS HIT A MOM AND WAS ABOUT TO HIT YUU TOO BUT GOOD BOY SILVER PROTECTS US

Sebek, Silver, and Azul fight off the hyena guards while Ortho, Ruggie, Yuu, and Grim ride on Jack’s (wolf form) back to charge in. We finally get the incantation for Unleash Beast!! “Faster, sharper, stronger! Unleash Beast!”

Inside the palace, Leona demands meat and such from Kifaji. When Kifaji tells him there is none, Leona says go outside and get it 😭 THEN HE tHRETEnS TO FRY AnD EWT KIFAJI?????? AnD tHEN HE GRIPS KIFAjI BY THE cOLLAR WhEN HE SAYS FaLEnAmS nAmR… GIRL… YOU DiD NOT… NADSKILUASLBIADIBLD NOW HE'S ATTEMPTING TO SAND GRANMPS????

Ruggie barges in, TACKLING LEONA???? And pretending to be Cheka (with a really dumb voice LOL). But Leona clocks him right away and dispels the hologram. He accuses Ruggie of pretending to be Cheka to start a revolution and declares that this is punishable by death.

Kifaji protects us!! He uses fire to stop Leona’s attack, confirming him as a mage too. (That’s the first time the “darkness” in the dream has gone out of its way to help us rather than hinder us. Ortho suggests it is because the dreamer’s interpretation of the characters is important; the is could lead them to prioritizing their own behaviors rather than focusing on eliminating threats to the dream.) W AH 😭 Dream!Kifaji says he wishes for Leona to wake up from this bad dream…

Leona ran away in the brawl and is now outside the palace. He stews around and mutters that it isn’t his fault, so why did things turn out like this?

The hyena guards show up and pull Leona deeper into the dream. We of course leap in after him!!

Aaaaaand HERE WE ARE, a reality in which Leona and co. were successful in trampling Malleus or something... CRINGE CRINGE CRINGE how he gloats about his stupid ass plan that would NOT actually work irl. THANKS FOR REMINDNING ME ABOUT HOW CRAP BOOK 2 WAS, OJITAN... Azul has a moment where he laments that he had nooooo idea Leona would abuse the potion they made a deal over like this. He worries that Leona would have been too cocky and started taking out top performing students as well as athletes in order to pad out Savanaclaw's future in various fields.

AW JACKKKKK 😭 He says he can't stand aside and just watch this; the Leona-senpai he knows wouldn't be satisfied winning some fake game. Even when he has accomplished everything he wanted to, Leona isn't satisfied--so they've gotta snap him out of it!! aehjfaboboafevwtvaegp PUPPY... HE CARES SO MUCH ABOUT HIS DORM LEADER, AAAAAH

We confront Leona, with Azul claiming to have saved the Diasomnia team from his machinations. Leona notices there are two Ruggies and he starts to have that splitting 'I'm noticing things are off here" headache.

The Savanaclaw mobs start shouting and demanding to know what we did to "our king". DBHLFVLFEVIYOEAIAFE JACKGETS MAD AND SAYS LEOAN ISN'T "YOUR KING" HE'S "OUR DORM LEADER"!!!!! AAAAAAAHHAHAHHHHHAHHHHH H HHAHAHAHSH H HA HAHAHAHHHH H HHHHHHH H OTL

Leona wakes up and is a little prima donna about ita sdhlbaidbafa HE TELLS THEM TO WAKE HIM UP MORE DLEICATELY NEXT TIME... BITCH YLIKE YOU AHVE ANY RIGHT TO BE MAKING DEMANDS RIGHT NOW

Darkness, enter~ The group escapes it adgkhfihblffia BUT SEBEK SAYS DLEONA DESERVES THIS AND SILVER HAS TO STOP AND SCOLD HIM FOR SAYING THAT

Ruggie got caught and is now being sucked into the darkness. Leona runs back to grab him despite Ruggie's pleas to just run LH FABYOAFAEGAEG raARE WE GETITNGF TRI GELLA S ARE WE GETITNG GOOD LEADER BIG BRO L*ONA SAN WHO WON'T ABANDON HIS MINIONS EVER?a?? ? ?? ? ?????????? ?? ??? ? OTL The others warn Jack not to run over too, but he shouts that Leona and Ruggie-senpai are back there...

Leona throws Ruggie at Jack (who catches him) but falls into the darkness as a result. Welp, time to dive in after him!

ADFHBASBIYSAASD OKAY EHRE'S THE CRINGE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR... Leona sees his OB self moping about how he'll never be king. aiubafpdasbas OB LEONA TALKS ABOUT HOW HE WANTS TO THROW FALENA AND CHEKA OFF A CLIFF A LA SCAR STYLE...

Leona says it's pathetic seeing himself like this, doesn't he have any pride? If he keeps complaining that no one understands him, keeps looking down on others, keeps desiring approval... That's just so miserable.

He does what the other OB boys have done and proceeds to punch his Phantom into the dirt. Leona tells himself that he'll get his "own throne and country someday". (As has been alluded to many times before, this doesn't refer to a literal kingdom but a metaphorical one; ie he will try to find satisfaction through routes other than the crown.) AND HE ACCEPTS THAT HE WILL ALWAYS HAVE THAT BITTERNESS INSIDE OF HIM WISHING TO BE KING... HE ACCPETS IIITTTTTTT T T T TTTTTtTttttttTt OTL

Leona returns back to his original dream, where it has started to rain and the sun has come out. Kifaji runs up to him with the morning report and reminds his prince that everything the light touches is his domain.

Leona says it’s unnecessary and someone like him doesn’t have a claim to the throne. To this, Kifaji smiles and praises Leona for being so clever OTL HE DOESn’T GET MAd anD TRY TO gET LEOnA TO SlEEP AgAiN… "So you've finally noticed [...] that this is a dream. As expected of you. my king." WHAT SO DREAM!kIFAJI KNEW ALL ALONG????? WAS THSI A PEICE OF LEONA'S CONSCIOUSNESS THAT WAS AWARE AND DECIDED TO MANIFEST AS KIFAJI TO SAVE HIS OWN ASS?????? ? ? ?? ?? ????

LMAOOOO Leona says if he ever becomes king irl he is firing Kifaji ASAP (but we all know he won’t 😭). Using King’s Roar, Leona renders his fake kingdom to sand… and Kifaji looks on so proudly 😭 telling Leona to go to “the place where he should be”… 😭 YOu’RW KIDDIng ME EiGHTvvvvv’nnnnn’nnnM!!!????

Leona reunites with the group and… asdbaislda sort of makes up with Ruggie? He asks for forgiveness but doesn't specify for what (I'm guessing for the sanding?). Ruggie jokes about adding "interest" to Leona's tab but ultimately forgives him.

WHOA, new Jack crying sprite?!?!?! (Like a tsun, he insists he is not crying.)

He thinks about the noble Leona in his own dream… and how terrible his senpai are irl… but Jack says he prefers the real Ruggie and Leona any day. He’s so happy they woke up him.

NUUUUUUuUyyUuUUUUUU 😭 RUGGIe - AnD LEOn a COMFORT CryING JACKKkKKKKKKKKKKK

After that, Ortho explains everything to Leona and Leona gloats a little about how he always thought Malleus would go and do something dumb like this. When Ortho invites Leona to join their party, Leona says he passes and would rather nap. He claims he’s exhausted cuz he saw sooo many unpleasant nightmares, so he’ll wait here ‘til everyone is ready to punch Malleus. Azul can handle things for him.

But then Ortho points out that Ruggie, Jack, and especially Azul took a lot of damage in his dream. Azul is battered quite a bit because he was busy dispatching royal guards! This guilts Leona enough for him to change his mind and join us.

Aaaand that’s if for this update!

Mmm... Part of me feels validated because many of the ideas I proposed in this analysis of Leona vs Falena's ruling styles were showcased in Leona's dream. For example, Leona disregarded public opinion, prioritized development without considering the input of advisors, and everyone grew to resent him because of that. When Tamashina Mina first came out, a common sentiment was siding with Leona and declaring that his plans would better the country + he would make a much better king that Falena when, clearly, development is a very delicate and not-so-easy thing to achieve... I'm glad that Twst took a realistic approach to this. That’s not to say I think Leona would really be a shit ruler or that things would get as bad as they do in his dream. I just don’t think he’s prepared to handle that presently. It’s good that he’s now focusing on graduating and he applied for that internship that will bo doubt help him gather the knowledge and skills he needs to help his country. If he keeps working hard, I’m sure he can be the sort of person that brings the rain to the savanna.

I thought the idea to pretend to be Cheka and return to claim the throne was interesting, but ultimately it went nowhere since Leona immediately knew it was a fake. This felt more like an excuse to have Ruggie and Jack use their mouse mandated UMs for the dream segments... I wish they had actually done more with this. Maybe I'm biased because I think Ruggie's fake Cheka voice was hilarious www

There were TONS of Lion King references in this dream, HOLY CRAP. AND LEMME TELL YOU, IW AS SLURPING IT ALL UP. Not because I like the movie (I think it's alright), BUT BECAUSE I'M AN AVID ZAZU X SCAR SHIPPER... (They're peak enemies to lovers, don't @ me) OTL (TO BE CLEAR THOUGH, I DO NOT SHIP LEONA AND KIFAJI. Please don't mix them up!!)

Speaking of Zazu and Scar!! It was cool to see Kifaji in the dream...! His role was so refreshing too. I loved that he wasn't actually hostile, protected us, and actively wanted Leona to "wake up" from this bad dream. I think that's so reflective of the real Kifaji too... He's stern on Leona but it's only because he cares for Leona's wellbeing and wants to see him at his best, not constantly brooding over what he cannot have. And the fact that dream!Kifaji knew all along it was a dream and wished so hard for Leona to wake from it... it implies to me that, for all the shit Leona slings at Kifaji, he actually relies on the old guy as a source of comfort. Kifaji was probably his one and only friend in the palace and one of the few people who continued to believe in him... BEST BIRD GRANDPA, HANDS DOWN.

I'm sliiiightly disappointed that Leona wasn't awake the entire time; this definitely felt like a missed opportunity but at least Idia addressed what he said back in book 6 and provided a reason for it (even if I think the reason is flimsy). This might be cope on my part, but I think... part of Leona's self-awareness came through in how dream!Kifaji manifested. Maybe, just maybe... that Kifaji is the one shred of hope Leona has left for himself... Not just the part of him that knows this is a dream, but also the part of him that believes he can change and be a truly "good" ruler... AGAIN, PROBABLY COPE BUT LET ME DREAM.

Another character I felt really shone this update (besides Kifaji) was JACK. This shocks me because I don't really like him as a character but MAN, did he shine... He was the one who noticed Leona is unhappy even within his own dream where he has everything he could ever want. He's the one who shouts at the dream!mobs that Leona isn't THEIR king, he's HIS dorm leader. ANKDBHLADBILAIBA ASND THEN HE CRIED AND GOT ALL TSUNDERE ABOUT IT... THE SENPAI RUSHED TO COMFOR T HIM AJKDHAKHAFVAFVOEFUQEFTLFIHAFLEFWTUEOFIYPAFOB THAT WAS ADORABLE!!!! 😭😭😭 This update and the last really showed me Jack's true appeal...

asbkhlabiylfailyveioyqegi I LOVE HOW HTHSJ UPADATE JUST ENDS WITH ELONA SAYING HE'S GOING TO FUCKING TAKE A NAP... but then he gets off his ass and joins us after everyone reminds him how tired the others are and how hard his underclassmen worked to get through to him. HE'S REALLY NOT BEAITN GHT E "I DON'T CARE ABOUT THE KIDS BUT I SECRETLY DO CARE ABOUT THE KIDS" ALLEGATIONS . CVL;,SKJ'NGD;OBGDBIEGIFQWVGUEQVQE UQEO YFy vao ygFWOI Vf OTL

Not sure if I 100% get why this part had to be update separate of Ruggie and Jack’s part…? I mean, Kifaji helping us out and Leona having some amount of self-awareness was nice but I don’t think it was major enough to warrant waiting another week to see.

Next up is Heartslabyul which is in early December. It’s coming up quickly!

[ins4-tiable]

A Knight's Hymm

Knight! Levi Ackerman x Princess! reader

Levi being the first commoner captain, is quite sceptical of royalty. especially, you.

A/n: This a draft I couldn't bring myself to finish but I put my whole budussy into it so imma js post it.

You always smiled in a way that dulled the gold and jewels around you, A smile that covered your face and painted a pretty picture.

He couldn't stand it, No matter how much his head warned him of its falsehood, his heart couldn't help but flutter.

"Greedy wealthy pigs." 

He would mutter under his breath, even as they drafted him into the Royal Army, As captain no less. As he stood at attention at the mention of the king, his brows still furrowed in disgust.

They really should have known better than to put a man from the slums in such a high position.

Everyone else did. 

Everyone, but you. 

"Captian Levi! There you are!” You smiled. 

He couldn't help but loop himself, every time you flashed him that damned grin he couldn't stop himself from comparing you to gold.

"Your majesty." He acknowledged. 

You rolled your eyes.

"Must you be such a buzz kill?" You shook your head. 

Before he could answer, soft pampered hands had grabbed his; 

Thick and rough, littered with irreversible tales of the past, mostly the thick stubs where his middle and index fingers once were. 

He doubts it was an accident when you grabbed that hand

You covered his hand in yours, A cold and small item resting in his hands.

Your fingers dragged as they left. Neither of you mentioned it. 

Levi skeptically eyed his hand. A small, but heavy broach resting in the palm of his hand. 

“A formal invitation.” Your smile reached your eyes. “As my escort of course!" 

Levi furrowed his brows, his eyes snapping up to look at you

“…" He paused, giving you an unimpressed look "Invitation? Do I have much of a choice?” He snarked, eyeing you suspiciously. 

Your eyes seemed to crinkle.

" I always give you a choice. " You pause, glancing at the broch, Seemingly chuckling to yourself. " Think it over will you?"

You bowed your head slightly before you took your leave. 

It always made his skin crawl when you did that. He would rather you treat him like all the other nobles did. 

When you treated him like he was worth something his job got far harder.  

You ran your brush through your hair after meticulous work, the fresh feeling of newly washed hair enveloping your scalp. 

Your arms were quite sore, having only recently banned your maids from your chambers. But hard work receives fruitful rewards. 

You were sure it wasn't nearly as good as trained hands, but your heart swelled with pride. 

Your hair and skin were still damp as you slipped on your bathrobe. Nevertheless, you did not have time to fuss over the small details, you were sure Captain Levi would be arriving any-

The sound of a polite but firm knock harshly interrupted your thoughts. 

"I can always count on Captain Levi to mess with my plans." you chuckled to yourself. 

You begrudgingly made your way to your door. You expected him to take longer than he did to think about your proposal. 

Your door pulled open, fresh damp hair clinging to your face 

as your eyes glided to his

" Captain Levi." you hummed. A surprised look plastered on your face. Though, you doubt you fooled Levi.

 " It's quite late for visitors. Don't you think?" 

You could hear Levi's breath stop in his throat, and as quick as you heard it his brows snapped down in a furrow. 

"Your Highness!" He hissed, neck and ears flushing.

"What? It's to be expected that I would be bathing at these hours." You shrugged, shifting your weight to the right, motioning him inside. 

"no, I don't think that would be appropriate-"

"It must have been important for you to come to my chambers at this hour, so please." You insisted.

You could see his jaw visibly clench, Your eyes briefly flickering to the vein that gathered on his neck. 

The sound of his heavy footsteps dragged against the marble floor, Willing himself to move further into your chambers. He had hoped it was his sense of duty willing him to gather more information on you, but he knew that wasn't the case. 

He reluctantly took a seat, eyeing you with a glare. His brows furrowed in an almost permanent M. 

The sound of thick splashing filled the room as you filled both cups. A small smile on your lips, your eyes entirely focused on the cup before you. 

"Your Highness, I-" 

" I know you're a part of the rebellion." You began, cutting his speech off. "That's why you are here to deny my escort request. Right?" 

Your eyes flickered to his as you asked. 

His face was pulled taunt. Not letting a slip of emotion seep through his skin. He was already glaring at you, but this one was different.

It was cold. 

Your eyes locked to his, And in a moment a knife was at your neck. A steel-stained knife threaded at your throat. You didn't even blink, your facade of a smile still permanent on your lips. 

Your eyes glanced down at the knife. 

"The knife at my neck makes me think you want to kill me." You state, looking back up at him that cold look he wore at war glazed over his eyes. 

"Quit with the Bullshit." He spits, rising in his chair. "What do you want." 

"Me?" You ask, tilting your head to the side. "You're the one who put a knife to my neck. " Your brows furrowed and jaw slacked, painting a furiously offended look on your face. 

"You-" 

"I'm kidding." You say, a smirk replacing the frown you placed on your lips. "I'll speak when there is no longer a knife at my throat." 

Silence filled the room, Your eyes locked onto each other in a glare. 

Levi let out a sharp click of his tongue, reluctantly moving back down, slipping his knife back into its hiding spot. 

You take a long sip of your now lukewarm tea, humming disapprovingly before setting it back down with a click.

"That invitation is one for my wedding." 

"what-"

" And once I'm married I'll be no more than a living doll. " You sighed, your eyes stuck to the round edge of your cup. 

" They don't want me to exercise my right as a royal, so they sold me off to a pig." You sneered. " Since they threw me away the only thing left for me to do is to sell information to the rebellion."

A Thick solemn Silence Stuck in the air, constricting around Levi's throat. He couldn't speak. 

His hand gripped tightly to your round marble table. He could feel his heart tighten to a stop.

He glanced up at you, steeling himself.

"And how am I supposed to believe that? This could easily be a trick."

You sighed, standing up from your seat. Levi watched you in silence as you reached under your thick bedding. Pulling a bland or unremarkable box from under your bed.

The sounds of the soft patter of your feet echoed through the empty room, and with a swift flush you emptied the dull box onto the table.

Covering the table were altered royal documents.

"I've been keeping Erwin and the rebellion alive by altering information" You stated, " Without me, they'd be dead."

"You-"

" Even if you don't like me, don't let that stop you from helping the people!" You reason, a sudden passion filling your words. " I had planned on doing this myself.. but."

You stopped your words, your perfectly crafted mask beginning to crumble as your throat constricted at the thought of being sold off.

Levi paused as he watched true emotion seep through your face, You seemed to shine even brighter.

" Goddamn it." He hissed, 

You didn't get the chance to speak, as he quickly grabbed you by the back of the head, leading his lips to yours. 

Rough chapped lips pushed aggressively into you, his entire body leaning across the table to reach you, as a hand keeping your head steady while he kissed you. Kissed you as if he was in battle.

Your head was moving a mile per minute, and yet, not a single thought could process through you. But for some straight reason, you couldn't seem to stop yourself from wanting more.

You pushed back against him, running your tongue past his lips and into his awaiting mouth. You could feel his gasp against you, and tremble as he reciprocated the action. 

For someone who grabbed you so passionately, he sure wasn't prepared. 

Levi pulled away from you, A red face gazing up at you as his forehead pressed against yours. 

" They'll kill you," He said, breath heavy in his words and a worried tremble in his raspy tone. 

You paused at his words, letting out a breathy chuckle. 

" It's worth it." You smiled. 

His jaw clenched

"What? No! What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked, roughly grabbing you by the shoulders.

His brows furrowed far harder than ever, and his eyes filled with a thick passion that made your heart flutter.

"I finally get the chance to have you and you want to just die?" He exclaimed

"What-"

Levi kissed you again, a scared, Emotional kiss.

This has been sitting in my drafts for over a year so I'm releasing it to the world!