#Thanks for the ask and for such a lovely description :3

[rafesangelita]

♡ what happens when the man you’ve been having anonymous phone sex with asks you to come over to his place so you two could have a date of your own?

warnings: mean!rafe, enemies to ???, brief descriptions of phone sex, dirty talk, mutual masturbation, mutual pining, praise, orgasm control, orgasm denial, degradation, flirty banter

a/n: this is part three of this mini series! thank you so much for all the love on this series so far, i wasn’t expecting such an outpoor of support <3 if you ask to be added to the taglist and i don’t reply, don’t worry!! i promise i’ve seen it and have added you!

links: previous | next | mini series masterlist

wc: 2.8k

“..you sound pretty.”

you froze, the slightly familiar voice sending a shiver down your spine. “who’s this?” you swallowed thickly, already having a gut feeling. “you know who i am.” with a demeaning tone like that, you only had one guess. “so out of all of the usernames you could’ve came up with; ‘country club’ was the one that stuck?” rafe smiled to himself before taking a drink from the liquor in his glass. he was alone on the druthers now with nothing but you on his mind, along with his mystery girl that he never stopped thinking about.

“it’s just a nickname a friend of mine gave me,” he explained, “no one else knows me by it so that’s why i chose it.” you hummed, a hint of curiosity piquing your interest. “really? who?” you asked him in a poor attempt to get something out of him. “ah, you wouldn’t know him. he’s from the cut.” now you were really interested. “the cut? how did you end up being friends with someone from over there?”

rafe was quiet for a few moments.

“it’s a long story. i think you’d find out who i am if i told you about it.” you tried to think about any drama or gossip that chanel may have filled you in about at some point but ultimately came up empty handed. “i see..” deciding to change the subject, you asked him about something that actually had relevance. “so what had you so wrapped up earlier?” rafe sighed, your pictures from earlier flashing in his mind.

“i was on a date— if you could even call it that,” he laughed, “the amount of bitchy attitude this girl throws at me every time i see her is crazy.” you ignored the spark of jealousy that lit up in your core, your eyes narrowing as you thought of all the things he could’ve been doing with someone else that wasn’t you.

rafe had a very specific reason for bringing someone else up and just like he had hoped, you fell right into his trap. “yeah? you should probably call her and talk to her instead.” you were quick with your remark, rolling your eyes before settling underneath your plush comforter.

“i think i already am.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a sense of panic washing over you as you thought about your earlier encounter with rafe. could you really be the girl that quote unquote ‘throws bitchy attitude at him every time you see him’? it would be hard to tell considering you threw bitchy attitude towards everyone, but still, his words caused your train of thought to come to a screeching halt. “no, that’s impossible.” to be in denial when you two were this far along in your arrangement was simply delusional, but you couldn’t help but deny his theory.

“you think so?” he sat back in his seat overlooking the water. “i know so. cause i went on a date tonight as well.. and i personally find the guy insufferable— hot, definitely, but insufferable nonetheless, and i’d like to think that if me and you have ever talked or interacted in person we’d at least get along in some way.” now it was rafe’s turn to feel jealousy burn through his chest at the mention of you going on a date with someone else other than him.

“you went on a date?” the calm tone in his voice was now replaced by assertiveness, his jaw clenching as he imagined you getting all dolled up for some loser. “yes.” you don’t know why, but you felt like you had did something wrong. “and you said he was hot?” rafe downed the rest of his drink, pouring himself another shortly after. “yes..” you answered again, a hint of a smile playing on your lips, “i’d fuck him even though i told him it would never happen.” if rafe couldn’t understand what was so similar between you and his personal internet slut then, he definitely knew what it was now. you had to be her.

rafe thought about your words from earlier.

“why i don’t like you, or why i won’t let you fuck me?”

you had such a smart mouth on you, the only thing rafe could think about was how he’d shut you up by filling your throat up with his cock. “it’s funny you say that. i could’ve sworn my brat of a ‘date’ said the same thing to me.” suddenly you felt like you were in enemy territory, every single one of your sensible instincts urging you to hang up the phone. “uhm—” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “i wonder if she has any idea that i’d fuck her senseless if only she’d let me.” your mind drifted off to rafe again, and the way he was looking at you before you left; as if he knew you something you didn’t.

“tell her that next time you talk to her.” you shot back, rolling your eyes as he muttered a ‘i will.’

deciding to move into the cabin inside the druthers, rafe slid the door shut behind him before be turned the lights off, a groan leaving his lips as he took a seat on the couch. “so why’d you call me? you know, since you’re obviously interested in someone else.” rafe scoffed, rolling the tension out of his shoulders before blinking up at the ceiling. he was amused by everything that came out of your mouth. “i’m not interested in anyone else. i think i have you figured out, and if i’m right then this couldn’t be anymore perfect.”

rafe imagined you being the one on the phone with him right now, your hand in between your thighs as you got off to the sound of his voice. he imagined you wearing nothing, those pretty tits of yours on full display. “and if you’re wrong?” you teased. “i’m not. i can’t be.” while you had no idea who he could be envisioning, you had no problem waiting for the day to prove him right or otherwise. “i guess we’ll just have to play the waiting game until we can’t anymore..” rafe hummed in agreement. “well that won’t be very long then.”

you hoped not.

there was a beat of silence before rafe’s voice sounded through your receiver. “sooo.. what are you wearing right now?” you groaned, the cliché and overused line making you shake your head. “you have seriously got to come up with something better to initiate this,” you fiddled with the string of your robe, “but i’ll work with you just this once.” if only you could see the look on rafe’s face right now. “sorry i’m not an experienced phone sex expert, i prefer my sexual encounters in person.” he laughed when you cursed under your breath. “ugh, goodnight.”

while rafe thought you were joking, you had really hung up on him, leaving him both turned on and frustrated.

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: 1 attachment

[10:57 PM] brattydiaries: and to think.. i really wanted to touch myself. oh well, i’ll see you around ‘country club’

rafe was pissed when he opened your message and saw a picture of you completely naked in your silk robe, his cock stirring at the sight. he could’ve had you rubbing your clit by now if only he would’ve went easy with the remarks.

[11:00 PM] countryclub: you’re gonna make me work hard for it aren’t you.

[11:01 PM] brattydiaries: oh, you have no idea.

and that’s exactly what rafe did. he was persistent, making sure to call you every single night after that until you finally approved of his efforts. he knew from the moment he heard you moan on the phone that it was all worth it.

“f-fuckk, i can’t!” you cried out in frustration as rafe denied you another orgasm. you’ve been at this for an hour now, your panties drenched with your arousal as he taunted you on the other line. “yes you fucking can, you don’t cum until i let you, you understand?” you huffed, your clit aching with sensitivity as you shuddered at his words. “you made me wait all this time to get you like this, you can hold out just a little bit more for me.” rafe grunted, his own hand palming himself through his boxers.

you shuddered, your eyes fluttering shut as he told you all about the things he’d do if he had you there with him. “i’d fucking wreck you, baby,” he moaned, thinking about fucking you to tears until you couldn’t handle it, “fuck’ that attitude right out of you and get you all pathetic and desperate. just like you are right now.” you were at the point where you couldn’t even touch yourself anymore, your orgasm being just in arm’s reach. “please!” you whimpered, your thighs trembling with the need to let go, “i’ve come close so many times already.”

as odd as it may sound, rafe hasn’t let himself cum ever since you two started having phone sex. messaging each other and sending pictures was different— but now that he had your voice in his ears, it made everything feel real. he swore to himself that he wouldn’t let himself finish until he had you in the palms of his hands. maybe it was a way for him to torture himself, but he was determined to make it happen. you were going to be his no matter how long it’d take.

“you’ve gotten so good at begging me for it, you don’t even put up a fight with me anymore.” rafe laughed, thinking about all the times that you were the one turning him down, now you found yourself being completely at his mercy. “..fuck you.” you whined, writhing under your sheets. “soon enough.” rafe whispered, still listening to your pleads. “i could make myself cum right now,” you said breathlessly, “..and you wouldn’t even be able to stop me.” rafe’s jaw clenched, his nostrils flaring slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“do that and you won’t hear from me for three weeks straight. thank god for a block button, right?” you scoffed, your chest rising and falling as you rubbed your thighs together. “matter of fact.. just for that poor excuse of a threat, you’re not cumming at all.” you didn’t get to rebuttal before he hung up, your eyes widening before you groaned. asshole.

“okay, i love our little bottomless mimosa dates but i’m still recovering from last night.” chanel laughed, adjusting the sunnies on her nose. you and your group of girlfriends were out on the patio at the country club, your table filled with fruity drinks and half empty glasses. “oh my god, you should’ve been there, y/n! it got so crazy that someone called the cops and the whole thing had to get shut down.”

you were only paying half attention to what was being said, majority of your focus being.. elsewhere. specifically— rafe out on the golf field, his skin glistening with sweat as the blazing outer banks sun beat down on him. “it sounds crazy.” you hummed, nodding even though you only heard the first half of chanel’s sentence. she eyed you, following your line of vision before a smug grin pulled at her lips.

“so.. how come you’ve been m.i.a?” just as rafe looked up to meet your gaze, you snapped out of your reverie, blinking away. “forreal, it’s like you’ve disappeared these past few weeks.” you looked around at your friends, a nervous laugh escaping from you. how do you even explain to anyone— let alone your best friends, that you haven’t been to any parties or hangouts because you’re too busy getting talked through your third, sometimes fourth, orgasm of the night?

it’s simple; you don’t.

“i’ve been doing a lot of stuff for my parents. it just gets so tiring sometimes, you know?” chanel knew you were lying, but that was a conversation for another time. thankfully, no one questioned you any further and you were free to look back at the man who, for some reason unbeknownst to you, has been plaguing your mind. ever since your little awkward debacle on his boat, you two hadn’t really interacted with one another except the weird lingering stares you’d catch each other doing. you’d be lying if you said things didn’t feel a little bland without having him around as much.

“i’ll be right back.” you excused yourself, swinging your purse over your shoulder as you made your way inside. taking a seat at the empty bar, you looked around cautiously before opening your tumblr messages.

[3:08 PM] brattydiaries: i have on a super short skirt today.. maybe you could catch me somewhere

you stared at the screen for a minute, hoping he’d answer right away before you sighed to yourself and rested your chin in your hand. apart of you couldn’t help but feel bad. you should be outside with your friends right now, engaging in the latest island drama and raving about celebrity gossip but instead you’re here at a bar all by yourself feeling pathetic as ever because you couldn’t help but grow semi-attached to this ‘countryclub’ guy.

“can i buy you something to drink?” you looked up at rafe as he took a seat next to you, his large frame still towering over you even while he was sitting down. your heart started beating in your ears at the close proximity, your eyebrows pinching together at the overwhelming feeling currently swimming in your tummy. you never got nervous in front of guys, but all of a sudden rafe’s thigh is brushing against yours and now you’re shy? gross.

“i was just leaving actually.” you cleared your throat, avoiding the burn of his stare on the side of your face as you quickly scooted out from your chair. you didn’t even get to get up before rafe pushed your seat back in. “i wanna talk to you.” he sounded like he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, the firmness in his tone making you swallow thickly. staring at him for a few moments, you obliged, but not before ordering the most expensive thing on the drink menu.

“so what do you want?” you faced him, watching as he downed his scotch. “i, uhm— are you busy this weekend?” arching a brow, you thanked the bartender once he slid your overly dressed up cocktail in front of you. “yes, very.” no, you weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that. “well.. i would really appreciate it if you could make the time to come over to my place, ‘say around seven?” you blinked, not understanding clearly. “what’s the occasion?” you asked confusingly. “no, not a party. just us two.”

that grabbed your attention immediately. you sat there, replaying his words in your head until it finally registered. “just us? at your house this weekend at seven o’clock?” he nodded. “i already told you i’m never having sex with you, rafe.” the man in front of you rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “god, y/n,” he groaned, “as much as you’re breaking my heart right now, that’s not the reason why i’m inviting you over.” you giggled at the annoyed expression on his face, flipping your hair over your shoulder as he glared at you intently.

“so what’s the reason then? why would i ever go over to your place, rafe? enlighten me. please.” while rafe was secretly hoping you’d just agree and go on with your day, he should’ve known you weren’t going to be easy to obtain. sighing, he leaned in closer, his chest brushing the side of your shoulder. “look; last time we were by ourselves you told me that you didn’t like me because i was talking about you first, which by the way— i want to apologize for,” he started, “i feel like we got off on the wrong foot and i wanna start over.” you turned your head, his face just inches away from your own.

“i should’ve never said anything about you without knowing you first.” you two stayed silent for what felt like an eternity before you softly nudged him away. “okay, i get it, you don’t have to get all softie on me, rafe.” the corner of his lips tugged into a smile when he saw how flustered you got. “is that a yes?” you almost lost it when his fingers brushed yours, your stomach bursting with buttetflies at the small action. “fine,” you sighed, “but i still don’t like you.” rafe blinked slowly, restraining himself from jumping out of his chair. “that’s fine, i’m not asking you to.”

just as you were going to smart mouth him, your phone dinged! with a message from chanel. “well thanks for the drink, i’m going back out.” rafe watched you get up, his eyes trailing down your figure until they settled on your bare legs, your heels clicking against the floor as you walked off. “hey, y/n?” you spun around at the sound of his voice, muttering a ‘what?!’ before he winked.

“cute skirt.”

taglist: @meallan01 @sf1738 @emeloyy @hmmshhhh @chelzaa @starkeycore @liyah4evaaaa @hnybitches @urbimom @kittenjujusblog @femaholicc @lil-sparklqueen @yktayy9669 @matthewswifeyy @icaqttt @jjasmiineee @lilithblackkk @rafecameronswhoore @rafesgreasycurtainbangs @ditzyzombiesblog @i-love-gvf @blondrafe @wolf-2005 @brianquinnlvr @lightbluebaby @jkrafe @lovemaybankk @xcinnamonmalfoyx @drewstarkeysbabe @issues4him @dahliaparton @slut-4-gojo @luvagirlsworld @nemesyaaa @jwdiaries @midsoulz @drewstarkeyzwhore @urmotherlvr @chillgal135 @wtfisastiles @dollyfiles @annaconscience @rafesluvr @locallyhateddoll @acidfeens @cherubfille @whathechickenstrip @my-name-is-baby @wtfdudesblog @atjlovverr

[marshmallowmusing]

LOGAN FIC REC FRIDAY

“ untamed animal „

back for another round of recs! the theme for these were fics that centered on logan’s more feral, animal tendencies. some are spicy, some are angsty, but they’re all very good! a few of them involve weapon x so if that’s your thing you’re in for a treat. mind the warnings for each as there’s definitely heavy triggers, and most are 18+. links and descriptions of the fics are all under the cut 🤍

whistleblower

by @lostinlovingrevery

• you’re a doctor at lake akali and find logan being experimented on there, bravely working to free him. this one was super cool with great background for the reader that really immersed me, and i loved the quiet moments between her and logan!

remember me

by @fungateshortcakes

• logan’s lost himself to mind control, and it’s up to you to pull him back. soooo angsty but deliciously so! a few moments that had me holding my breath or gasping, it was really tense and gripping. left me wanting more of these two!

twin flames

by @elflutter, 18+

• you’re a mutant who has the ability to heal the same as logan, so you beg him to be rough with you during sex. he’s so restrained, it’s endearing as hell, but there’s this underlying current of animalistic need thats’s just so sexy.

sink into me with your dog teeth

by @sceletaflores, 18+

• you notice a shift in logan’s behavior around you, coveting your scent and stealing your underwear. and when he finally gets his hands on you… insatiable is the word that comes to mind. succumbing desire on its most base level. super well done!

i always hunger for more

by @tinalbion, 18+

• logan’s acting possessive, suppressing his instincts so as not to freak you out, but you make sure he knows you don’t mind if he leans into those animal tendencies. this one’s so sexy, i just love his intensity when he finally gives in to it<3

the beast inside

by @luminnara, 18+

• you’re a mutant being held in a facility, and you catch the eye of a man known as weapon x. the pacing of this one is fantastic, it really builds this ache to know him and escape with him. it gets real intense towards the end in the best way.

prey

by @allaren, 18+, CNC

• you’ve asked logan to give in to the animal inside, chase you through the woods and claim you as his. cnc isn’t usually my thing but it really works here with logan, he’s such a safe character to explore new dynamics with! loved the check in at the end<3

animal

by @loganhowlettshousewife, 18+

• you live on a farm and logan shows up to your doorstep, naked and afraid, and you take him in. this is a delightful series! i love how curious and tender he is, logan reminds me a lot of tarzan which is one of my favorite characters.

thank you to all the writers for sharing your time and talents posting your works for all of us to enjoy, it’s appreciated! if you read any of these make sure to like/reblog/comment on the fics themselves to give the authors some love 🤍 check back on fridays for more!

[rosehippiefield]

A crt tv sat on the carpeted floor. It was old and square, with all of those weird buttons and little leds.

All that was played on the screen was field covered in snow, but it could also be the tv static. A serene scene, full of nostalgia.

There could be heard a child's giggle. It made the room warm when, behind the windows, a cold winter was raging outside.

She ran, happy, chasing invisible butterflies. Her laugh was like snowdrops, blooming in snow. Her moves were wild like roses, a beautiful sight in forests. Her head full of garden flowers and dreams, stuffed with every thought there is.

The screen showed two hares—it made her stop and think. Hares are beautiful, but hard to catch. Nothing like bunnies she saw on street markets, where animals were in cages, waiting and looking at the free sky.

Hypnotized by colors and soft furs, she touched the screen and felt electricity fly through her. From fingers to head, to heart, to legs. She blinked.

And she was standing in the middle of the field. Green, even if frost was catching edges nearing the forest. The view was beautiful, wrapped up in frozen breaths from her mouth. But she wasn't cold—spring was coming.

Above high, magpies flew past her and their tails almost looked like paintbrushes that paint the sky. Hares circled her, wanting her to catch them. Playful but fast, faster than her legs.

They knew she was smart, they saw the flowers in her eyes. Who knew flowers could shine brighter than stars?

She didn't know if time stopped or if years passed, but the sun was higher and grass grew taller. Petals were scattered with every color she could think of. The wind was warm against her skin.

Hares came and went away to come again. It all felt like seconds.

"Will you stay with us?"

The question was asked once, but with the power of thousands of times. Was it the first one, or did she forget all the other questions?

Did she have a choice? She lost sight of tv and her childhood carpets. But she wanted to stay. And she could choose her ways.

She could pick to become a hare and run in opposite directions. She could pick a magpie and fly on painted skies. She could choose bees or squrrels or even grass or clouds or trees.

But all those colors she could see—purples, greens, browns and blues. It all looked like someone she knew.

Rose—.

She didn't even have time to think and her world began to change. And the world began to hear about a beautiful Rose born from dreams.

A rose, not exactly what she wished for, as nature does things fast and listens later. The only fruits of rose could Rose give now were her thoughts and words of wisdom. Embracing others with a velvet, red cloth—warm and soft in touch.

When Rose asked, people thought hard. When Rose sang, words went across the whole field. Flowers singing, wind spreading wings, animals wanting more. Befriending golden moons, suns, rivers and seas.

Smart and nice, open for starry nights. Sometimes she hid behind her leaves. But she was sweet and had a heart made of gold. Traveling through seasons and fields.

The only rose having rosehips.

(for the description fanfic! I may have bent some things to my liking, but my brain wanted it that way so I went with the flow. It is kinda a prolog to Rose's poem story bc why not :33)

Wow Goldy I'm blown away, this is so beautiful!

This story indeed feels like a metaphorical backstory

I love all the references to our talks (maybe I haven't found all), they are so interwoven into the story it feels natural. The tv of nostalgia, the hares and magpies (I didn't expect them and it made me smile). Dreamy girl that didn't want to leave the mesmerising world of magic, that didn't want to leave the whimsical childhood, and thus became part of that world too... As a rose, of course. I love the way you describe the Rose, I'm honored)

The last paragraphs make me think about being on Tumblr (because where else do I get to be a rose), where I get to post my opinions and befriend Golden Moons. I thought about Tumblr analogy when you wrote poem story (like we're apart but still interacting, creating special atmosphere), and here it feels like a logical conclusion. Even if it's not intentional I like to interpret it that way

Also, I feel like there are references to my fanfic description with brushes of magpies tails (I thought it would be fire lol) and flowers brighter than stars. It's like our stories are interconnected

[jagalart]

Hue 16

[call-sign-shark]

Sorry for the late reply, Lily, but your comment made me so happy that I wanted to reply properly!

I was impatiently waiting for you to read the description of Victor's smile I wrote because I directly grabbed my inspiration from your first chapter, in which you said Lucy couldn't recall the last time she has seen her father smile. I do tried my best with his character and I also felt like he would be compliant with Amos and more "loving" considering he certainly embodies his vision of a perfect son. Also, about the dried blood under the nail thing... Yeah, someone's been paying attention 'cause you wrote exactly what I tried to convey. 🤭 It's when I wrote that first part that I realized that, shit, Amos must be fucking terrifying.

I'm glad you also enjoyed his opinion on marriage and children, and that you felt it was spot-on for his character. I'm still giggling about the fact it took him to be offered the future queen to say "meh, ok". Cocky little bastard. 🤣

"Ahhhhhhh there's already a flicker of love there and he hasn't even seen her yet! 🥹" YES YES YES. As I told Lee, it was supposed to both foreshadow his upcoming obsessive love and the trope "I'll find you in every life because we belong to each other". 🖤

As for Hev's part I'm delighted you enjoy my portrayal of the character because I'm trying to keep them relatively close to their og!version. As for the gothic description, I've never realized that they were, indeed, really gothic-coded and that's such a nice compliment! I love writing very organic metaphor, I feel like it suits borderline character like her pretty well!

The theme of not being asked her opinion is already there right? We have discussed it together and I knew it would ring a bell <3

I am also delighted you enjoed the family dynamic, like Aerthurys being an angry thing, Ada spreading chaos and Polly being in control teehee. Regarding Polly: yes, she did poison her first husband, it was Flor's idea, if I remember well,l but I'm not sure. As for Aerthurys honestly I feel for him even though they knew it from the start and shouldn't have gotten involved with her in the first place. Besides jealousy, it's hard not to be scared considering Amos' reputation.

And last but not least THANK YOU for picking up that last bit about Heaven's, while seventeen and obviously naive, does have something unsettling and wicked, making her a good match for handling Amos. 🤭

thank you so much for your wonderful comment and for your support, love. 🖤🖤

Summary: None of them wanted this marriage.

Words: 2.4k

TW: !MDNI! Please read the Masterlist's warning! The two are twisted. No proofreading, we die like me.

Victor and Lucilla Bolton belong to @mischievouslittlecreature. While Jared and James Stark belong to @justrainandcoffee.

Previous || Masterlist || Next

Today had been mortifyingly busy.

Lord Amos Bolton sat behind a heavy wooden desk, his ink-black eyes fixed on a parchment before him though he had stopped reading it for a while. His mind was elsewhere, not focusing on matters of lands, his tightening grip over the North, nor the twisted tortures he could inflict on his new prisoners. At this very moment, his mind was rather lost in the meanders of his own abyss. Absentmindedly, his eyes left the soporific report and lingered on the hand that was holding it — dried blood was still stuck under his nails despite having washed them.

He had said it to Lucilla once. A naked man has few secrets, a flayed one none. Pain unveils the truth.

A knock at the door at the door snatched him from the depths of his mind, followed by aggressive growls. Amos sighed longly through his nose, his hand throwing the parchment on his desk to rest upon the massive black direwolf next to him. He gently scratched him behind the ear to hush his growls, “Enter.” His voice echoed in the dimly lit room in a cold hush.

Victor Bolton entered, carefully closing the dark wooden door behind him. Standing straight, he only sat when Amos invited him to do so with a brief gesture. He did not bow for that was not their way, but Victor’s pale eyes held respect for his nephew — the one who had shaped the name Bolton into something both feared and respected.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” his Uncle said at last.

Amos didn’t look up, rather observing the huge wolf he was petting. Judge, so was the name, was a fierce beast with black fur and piercing yellow eyes— a gift from Jared II. “I avoid many people,” He started with a quiet tone that sounded soft but whose sharpness was as cutting as a well-honed blade, “It’s quite an efficient way to rid myself of nuisances on a day like this.” Days when his patience wore dangerously thin.

Amos finally deigned to look at Victor, leaning back on his chair as his onyx eyes surveyed him, glinting under the glow of the fire near him, “Tell me, Uncle, do you bring news worth my time or have you simply decided that my evening is too peaceful and seek to remedy that?”

Victor smiled. Well, not a smile per se, for this was a muscle combination that seemed long forgotten by his body, but he rather offered something that resembled a faint grimace, “I'm afraid peace doesn’t suit you.”

Amos’ lips curved briefly however he soon returned to gloom again at the sight of his Uncle's face hardening.

“I have come to talk to you about wedding.”

At this, a flicker of irritation passed through the Lord’s black eyes. Here we go again...

“I thought such pestering was my mother’s duty. Have you taken it upon yourself as well?” The room seemed suddenly darker, more suffocating, as though resounding with the shift of his mood.

“You have refused every match brought before you for ten years,” Victor spoke carefully, full aware that today was not the day to anger the Lord of the Dreadfort, “You are thirty, Amos. A lord of your power should have taken a wife long ago.” He leaned forward a bit, his pale Bolton-typical eyes trying to fathom his nephew's mind, “You have built an empire of fear, extended your reach beyond what anyone thought possible… But all of this could be for nothing without an heir.”

Amos set his elbows on the desk, fingers steepled and his expression both freezing and impassive, save for his visible annoyance “I have given this House everything. Strength. Power. A name that no longer belongs in the shadow of the Starks but stands next to them. Is that not enough of a legacy?” His voice was unsettlingly calm — scarce were occasions when he needed to raise it.

“It might not be enough to last through the ages. Alliance with the Stark could be not sufficient in the future... ”

An alliance no one expected after decades of mutual hatred and betrayal. How Amos had managed to bond with the current Lord of Winterfell was a mystery. His brother-like relationship with the second born of the Stark too.

“Well, Orion might be better suited for the task,” Amos retorted, trying to get rid of the topic as quick as possible but his Uncle was having none of it.

“Your brother is still a boy and Orion… Orion is not you.” Victor paused, surveying his nephew’s reactions as though testing the waters with a feral wolf that could snap at any moment, “You need an heir. And a wife to bear you one.”

Silence stretched between them, sharing the space with tension. Amos had little interest in marriage, his devotion and time rather turned toward conquest. What pleasure and satisfaction could a wife offer that power could not? His heart — if he had one — was a fortress as impregnable as the Dreadfort itself. No man or woman had ever breached his walls, nor had any moved him enough to let them try. In all his darkness, Amos had the odd belief that only a love brutal and all-consuming—one that seized him at first sight— would ever be worthy of him.

And it didn't happen so far.

“And what match do you suggest? Some filthy hags from House Frey? Or a simpering high-born girl with a noble father, wide hips, and empty head?” The tall darkness raised a brow, his seductive lips now tainted with sarcasm.

Victor didn’t cower at the Lord’s venom but smiled instead, slow and knowing. Yes, he knew that what he was about to say would make him win whatever argument they were having, “What about the future queen?”

Another pause. The candlelight flickered and, for the first time, Amos remained still.

He did not speak.

Did not blink.

In fact, his coal-black eyes locked onto his Uncle with utmost surprise. Was he really talking about the Targaryen?

“Think about it, Amos. The North grows restless. Thanks to you and your surprising alliance with Jared Stark II, we have become something greater. Something to be deeply feared. The Queen Regent and her council aren’t blind, they saw your influence. As clearly as they can see the cracks forming between the throne and the North.”

He titled his head to the side slightly — Victor had gained his whole attention.

“Queen Pollyanna has a young daughter, one of the most splendid beauties Westeros had ever seen from what rumors say. A marriage with a high house from the North would ensure its loyalty to the Crown. As for you, if you wed the future queen, Amos…” Victor’s voice dropped, “You would not be the Lord of the Dreadfort only. You’d be king.”

A quiet chuckle escaped the lord’s mouth. The sound of it was incredibly soft, like a whisper carried by the wind, almost amused too, but there was something beneath it. Something… Darker.

“King.” Amos murmured again — the prospect of feeling the weight of a crown on his head and the warmth of a Targaryen beauty in his bed was indeed exhilarating he reckoned, “And...What’s her name?”

“Heavenerys Targaryen the First.”

The candlelight flickered once more, casting its light on Amos' enticing face, a smirk dawning on his lips.

“Heavenerys.” He said, tasting the little dragon’s name ...

And falling in love with how it sounded.

“Well, Uncle. It seems that Dreadfort will indeed have the marriage it seeks."

We have to talk.

Heavenerys knew that whatever would come next, she wouldn't like it. It was in her mother's traits. In the way her usually maternal expression had turned to stone, as though detaching herself was the only way to render pain bearable.

You are to wed Lord Amos Bolton.

The words that escaped Regent Queen Pollyanna's thin lips felt like a blade slicing through her throat, severing her head from her neck in one instant.

Sat stiff-backed on her bed, Heavenerys' hands were nervously fidgeting together as she glared at her mother with cold anger burning in her ice-fire eyes. The silence that had followed the news was suffocating, only disturbed by the crackling of the fire dancing in the hearth.

It was just a sentence. Seven words. How could seven words shape the rest of her life just like that? Without even asking what she thought about it, or how she felt?

Surprisingly, it wasn't her who shattered first but Aerthurys — as Pollyanna had expected.

"No." He snarled, jumping on his feet. The silver streaks of his ginger hair caught the firelight, shining as bright as his furious purple eyes. Already crushed by the weight of his violent temperament, he braced his hands on the vanity as if to keep himself from bouncing on his aunt and murdering her right on the spot, "No, she cannot — will not — marry that man!"

"Aerthurys..." The wise Regent queen said with a firm tone, even though she knew he wouldn't be stopped.

"Have you heard what he does?!" Aerthurys' voice cracked like a whip on the back of a slave, whistling through the air. He turned around, his eyes boring into the Princess' irises, "What he is?"

Heavenerys exhaled slowly through her nostrils, her heart hammering in her chest but she remained silent, well aware that speaking right now would be useless. Not when Aerthurys roared like a wounded dragon. Moreover, she still has to stomach the news and overcome the overwhelming buzzing in her skull.

"And what he is, by the Seven?" The Regent queen asked, coldly.

"Oh dear Aunt, don't you dare ask. The people of the North say they have heard screams of his prisoners echoing through the cold. Stories of men who were kept alive for weeks as he peeled their flesh from their bones. Stories of opponents fed to snarling hounds!" Aerthurys paced in the room as he spoke, his fist crashing against an expensive mahogany wardrobe. Both the queen and the Princess jumped at the noise.

"Amos Bolton makes sport of suffering. He's the type of monster that gets off on fucking torture and you would have her —" He gestured toward his tiny white-haired cousin with a shaky hand, "marry him?" The fury in his voice blended with raw despair.

Heavenerys kept her breathing steady and her expression composed.

She didn't wish to show her fear.

To give them a reason to pity her.

"Would y'all stop screaming?" She just said, visibly annoyed, but no one listened to her. Of course.

Pollyanna did not flinch at her nephew's outburst. The only thing she did was to watch him carefully, a detached coolness etched on her stern face: she had ruled long enough and murdered one husband, so emotions weren't something that would impede her decisions.

"The North is the North, Aerthurys. The Starks bend the knee but they do not like us. A rebellion has been simmering for years, waiting to explode. We have to secure ties with it, and House Bolton has risen out of control! Amos' influence is endless."

"So this is how you plan to buy their loyalty?" He scoffed, "By throwing Heavenerys to him?"

"I do not throw my daughter away! " She corrected firmly, purple eyes squinting, "I place her where her title of future queen of Westeros will be the safest."

Place her.

That was how royal families worked right? Your whole destiny is written when you take your first breath in this world. Heavenerys rolled her eyes — she had always known that this moment would come sooner or later, what she didn't expect was that she'd be sold to a stranger thirteen years older than her and with a cruel, terrific reputation.

"Safest? Then it should be me." Aerthurys clenched his jaw.

Another silence, louder than the previous shooting and breaking furniture.

"No." Pollyanna met his gaze with an unfathomable look, even though Heavenerys noticed a bit of pity in her violet irises. That simple refusal made Aerthurys' breath hitched, as though she had struck him, "We have all seen what inbreeding has done to our family. We have danced too close to the fire for too long. The madness, the sickness... It has to end now. I don't want my daughter to see her offspring deformed or sick in the head!"

"It is not fair." Aerthurys sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in a desperate attempt to calm his nerves.

"Oh, it's worse than that." A little amused voice raised in the chambers, gathering the attention of the queen, the princess and the rabid prince. Aedarya, Heavenerys' troublesome cousin, leaned slightly on the side with a little smirk. She had remained silent during the whole conversation, sat behind Heavenerys to braid her magnificent white mane. Her purple eyes gleamed with a wicked delight.

"They say he eats human flesh," she continued with a playful, almost singing voice, "That he bathes in the blood of his enemies after each battle." Her smirk slowly turned into a grin that crept on her lips. Teasing, she rested her chin on Heavenerys' bare shoulder and looked at her, "Perhaps he'll drink yours on your wedding night, cousin."

"How romantic." The white-haired princess commented, vaguely amused by Aedarya's propensity to pour oil on the fire.

If her joke had worked on Heavenerys, it hadn't been the case for Aerthurys: something cold had settled on his face.

"Fine, a wedding's nothing but a contract I guess."

The white dragon finally spoke and then, at last, smiled through the anger. A lesser woman might have screamed. Begged. But she just... smiled. If they had thought such news would break her they had chosen the wrong creature to chain. While resembling an angel and as petite as frail in stature, Heavenerys was no meek little princess. They whispered that the Cold had marked her at birth, cursing her with those eerie, burning, and glowing blue eyes. Mere superstition, maybe, but even her own mother could not deny that her daughter had something wicked. Heavenerys was distant, untouchable, emotionally shallow most of the time. Superstition... Perhaps, and yet Pollyanna had often wondered if the Cold had truly left its mark.

"Fear not. Give me one evening with Lord Amos Bolton and he'll be eating from my hand".

And if not he'll go feed Kairaxès. Eat or be Eaten.

The GoT Team: @darklydeliciousdesires @justrainandcoffee @peakyswritings @cillmequick @evita-shelby @lunarubra @shelbydelrey @theycametoconquertheearth53 @lightinbug

ask if you want to be removed or added to the taglist

also I can include your GoT OCs and will do it gladly, just ask.

[nokk0]

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

Fal and Snow!

Second question by: @turquoisetuber

[Ask Game]

Alright!!!! THE MOMENT HAS COME!!!!

REALLY long post

⚔️ (Crossed Swords) - What weapon(s) do they wield or specialize in, if any in particular? Any special properties? Do their weapons have names or epithets? [e.g. MK’s Galaxia, Morpho’s Doomblade]

★ Fal has a broken heart-shaped holographic shields to defend himself, (nameless because he never thought about a name for those shields-) which are shields reminiscent of Star Dream force field. The reason for this is because i designed that with the idea to show the connection between Fal and Star Dream, as both are ancient artifacts, although they are the complete opposite of the other

Literally, Star Dream is a cat the size of a planet

And Fal a fish that is a few centimeters smaller than Magolor…

★ Snow White has a magical weapon similar to a halberd, it's a weapon completely unbreakable and indestructible. This weapon was property of someone else until it was eventually passed on to Snow White, who would use it during battles against Rogue Star Warriors and criminals. Because of Snow White's fame as the White Hunter, Ruler would in turn also become a very famous weapon... In the past

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

★ Snow wouldn't wish for anything. Maybe she wants to remedy her past mistakes or prevent someone's death, but the Ancients are gone, the GSA is dissolved and the cosmos is at peace... She feels that changing the past now isn't necessary. Maybe her only wish would be that nothing bad happened to Fal and her new home (Dreamland)

★ Fal, for his part, has friends, a home, a job and Snow by his side, that is more than enough... Maybe he'd ask to be organic to know what it's like to have real skin (?)

🧋 (Boba Tea) - Come up with a Kirby Café item themed around your OC! It can be a savoury dish, a drink, a dessert, or something else entirely.

★ i'm not the best with these kinds of questions... My knowledge about food is... Super limited, not to mention just the basics... Ahem! i guess Fal would have a Kamaboko with rainbow swirls and Snow would have mochis, perhaps decorated with edible flowers... There would also be sodas... It's not much use but believe me, if there was a menu based on Fal, it would be a sin not to include sodas

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

★ Susie and Magolor are evidently the closest to Fal. In addition to repaired him and given him a body, they taught him several things and updated him on various topics in which he lacked knowledge. Maybe he doesn't like to be the target for Magolor pranks time to time, but a little chatter about the decades of wondrous intergalactic travel of Magolor worth it. That cat is always eager to share stuff with his friends! At the same time Fal rambles 24/7 when he's talkin’ with Magolor or Taranza. Susie also enjoys the info dump of Fal, but she tends to cut him often since Fal can distracts really easily from his job. Although their relationship is not perfect, they are very good friends!! (i would include Lor but she is not a playable character-)

★ Taranza is another close one; both of them loves to rambles about plants! They are really good friends, especially for the emotional support that the arachnid provided to Fal in depressive and melancholic moments, especially when the topic of Snow White's death depressed the fish. Taranza taught him breathing exercises and also about gardening, although not much because Fal tried to bury himself in the ground just because he liked how it feels, so they just go to drink tea and eat desserts while rambling about plants and vent when needed

★ Marx and Meta Knight are two that Fal hates. Marx is really rude, a hedonist who plays jokes left and right. He even takes advantage of Fal's fear and usually has Gooey as an accomplice in his pranks. With Meta Knight it is more extensive:

1- With his goggles he discovered MK's attempt to take over Popstar and for Fal that is something that, coming from a Star Warrior, is expected but at the same time outrageous. He and Snow made an effort to take care of those kinds of individuals and even when the GSA dissolved, there is a Star Warrior who received no punishment or consequences for his actions. He can't understand why Dedede is datin' with this bat

2- Meta thought that Fal was some of Susie's weapons and with memories of Vietnam, he tried to get rid of Fal, which only made things worse between the two- i know it's a bit over the top of MK to try to silence Fal... But seeing as how everything between MK and Susie is something... Tense and seeing the disasters that ancient artifacts bring, i don't think he takes Fal lightly...

Snow doesn't know any of them yet, but from what shehear from Fal, she doesn't have a good opinion of MK

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

Ok, at first i questioned whether it was necessary or even possible because Fal is an AI, he lacks a soul, but Star Dream came to shut me up and remind me that even machines have something reminiscent of the soul

My idea for a Soul Form would be: The physical body inert/broken but looking calm or as if it were asleep, the core of the chest broken and a giant holographic sphere that came out of the core

What “hatched” from the husk would be a mass of warping, twisting and pulsating veins that look like colorful stars, their light alternating between too dim and far too bright all of them trapped in an gigant sphere that shifts in hue and drips along the bottom with a ghostly aura that roils and shimmers. It hasn't an ethereal nature, as it flickers and warps in shape like a projection of light rather than a real solid entity. Unfortunately for everyone, too far gone...

Snow... She's already dead, so her "soul form" would be more like a... Completely lack of sanity

It would be like... *grimaces*... Gretchen... Urg-

Pretty much like Madoka, Snow dreams of saving everyone and everything. "Soul Fal" despite being just the shadow of his former self will follow Snow dreams. Master and Waiter work together with a common goal... They will kept dreaming. They are both chasing their dreams

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favorite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

★ Snow is a Puffball, don't forget she's a Puffball

In life she had an appetite comparable to Kirby's, but she managed to control herself from time to time... But not always. Despite knowing how to cook good meals, when she came home tired, she didn't bother cooking and often ate canned food due to her tiredness. Snow has a great fascination for apples, anything with an apple included will be devoured without a doubt. Even apple-scented soaps.....

★ Unconsciously Fal picks up Snow's habit, but... It goes to the extreme. If something fits in his mouth, then he will eat it. Ham, salads, chicken, burgers, unpeeled bananas, polystyrene pellets, cans… He is similar to a toddler in that habit. Young children often put things in their mouths (such as grass or toys) out of curiosity about the world around them

★ He's happy to eat anything, edible or not. Fal has a list of foods that are his favorite; but he's still trying a lot of things and choosing one of THOUSANDS OF OPTIONS as his favorite is a torture for him. Fal can eat metal too, but he prefers actual food though, and he's a REALLY big fan of meats and fish. And sodas

If he could, he would drink absolutely all flavors of sodas he can find out there. And eat all the soda cans after that as well!

★ i think for the cook ability Fal would give a fish cake (Kamaboko) and Snow a Mochi or an apple

[localcryptic]

7 and 29 for Ripley and Tal? :]

ooooh these are two of my favorite questions from the list >:) thank you for asking!

7: Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Tal: i would describe them as a paranoid vengeful ghost. they very rarely feel 100% real/grounded/connected to the world, and i wonder what they think their life will be once they're done with their unfinished business? i doubt they've considered it at all.

tal doesn't like to talk about themself, and they would make a lot of excuses to not do so, but after some thinking they would settle on tired, hardworking, and anxious.

Ripley: i see ripley as defiant, terrified, and passionate. he puts his whole heart into everything, which only makes it more terrifying when everything goes wrong. better to push everyone away and never face the vulnerability than to risk that heartbreak again.

if you tried to ask ripley to describe himself in three words, first he'd tell you "No," (probably while flipping you off), then he'd try to get out of it like "okay, three words: 'some fucking guy?' is that good enough? how about 'self proclaimed cunt'." with a lot of complaining and eye-rolling, he'd say "pissed-off, tired freak." (he's not good with words. and did i mention the defiance? yeah.)

29. What recurring dreams do they have?

(other than the sidestep typical recurring dreams, of course.)

Tal: tal dreams of faceless people and body-less hands. they dream of being the last person on earth. in their dreams, they always run too slow and speak too quietly, and even when they try to scream, it comes out as a stage whisper. they dream of glass boxes, display cases, a Los Diablos out of a museum diorama where the clouds are too fluffy and the light is too fluorescent. the people are plastic and the eyes are gawking back at them through the glass.

on the rare occasion they have a good dream, they dream of Ortega. simple pleasures. skin against skin without fear. on a good night, they could feel her hair in their fingertips as they braid it. hear her laugh recorded in a memory and remember the warmth as they press their lips to the back of her neck. on a good night, they could feel vivid, real and whole for a moment. but mostly, in their dreams, they are nothing. faceless and static and alone.

Ripley: ripley is especially prone to nightmares. being trapped. restrained. paralyzed. nightmares about the buzz of hot metal against his teeth, about freefall. the suspense of weightlessness, and the dread, because he knows what will come next, by universal law. he dreams of falling. falling. falling. a landing that knocks the wind out of him, hitting his head against the cold exam table beneath him, writhing, strapped in place. he dreams about blood in his mouth and a smile on his face.

he dreams of an endless cycle. trapped → escaped → free → captured → trapped. he isn't sure which part of the cycle he is in by the time he wakes up. he dreams of cinderblocks. and running. running as fast as he can, as far as his legs will take him, hoping those familiar restraints don't come for his ankles, dragging him down. dragging him away. dragging him back.

in his good dreams, he feels powerful. he has sunlight on his face and wind in his hair. his lungs are full of fresh air and he doesn't have anything to be afraid of. he still runs in these dreams- he can't imagine a life where he isn't running from something. but his weightlessness is ever fleeting joy and pride, without all the weight of guilt and anger he's used to. he wakes up from these dreams just as shaken as he wakes up from nightmares.

(sorry for the unbelievably long answer and THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! the ask list is here!)

[purble-gaymer]

F (< this is a really good one i think everyone would want to get this one), H, J (any fic), K, X

for the ask game :]

F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

god that is a good one but it's also a HARD one. i feel like let me see your bones in its entirety is high up there if only because it is very personal to me. there's a lot of good stuff in wwtmk and unfortunate result AGH!!! this is so hard. i have a couple from unfortunate result i wanna talk about though

mk and the salesman's dynamic is so interesting to me and i never get to do anything with it. i loved writing this. the salesman jumpscare. meta knight anger out of fear moments. destroya confirmation. this is probably my favorite flashback in the fic

i think i'm gonna explode looking back over this fic. cafe brawl and the cooldown after it are probably two of my favorite parts. god. guys this experience means so much to me even if i completely fabricated it myself. it is such an important bonding moment for the knights especially when blade is the one breaking down because of it. and the aftermath of sword and meta knight having their little chat...is it normal to want to cry over your own work

okay okay last one. i really enjoyed writing this nightmare scene. showing first that meta knight asked for sword and blade's help above all else, his uneasiness as he realizes something is wrong, and a final call in desperation before nightmare reveals himself. i loooove writing these nightmares they're so fun. i feel like i have a really strong idea of what the realm is like and i need to do more with it

i may have gotten distracted rereading some of this fic while answering this. need to sue myself for emotional damages.

H: How would you describe your style?

i like to make things an appropriate amount of flowery. i love romantic/gothic era lit that really digs into descriptions, and it's been a goal in my writing for a long time now to get better with that, because when i started off i hated writing descriptions. i think i've improved on it a lot over the past couple years. i like to linger on little details to try and make my writing feel more immersive. i want my readers to be able to feel the breeze on their face and smell the autumn leaves, yknow? my imagination can be pretty strong sometimes and i want to do everything i can to translate those feelings onto paper. it's tough, but that's what makes it fun, and all the more satisfying when you write it out.

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to any fic.

hum. honestly the biggest one that comes to mind is that there's an alternate universe where meta knight dies at the end of know your place. i think if i wrote it today i might've followed through with that, but who knows. aside from that, for most of my fics i'm not conflicted about the ending. i know where i want the story to go, the harder part is deciding how i'm going to get there. i think i jumped between a few ideas for unfortunate result, but i don't really remember many of them. that fic had a pretty messy development, i had a lot of ideas and many of them ended up getting cut or changed into something else.

K: What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

what do you think? :) i certainly have a lot of "meta knight gets tortured by nightmare" plots but one of these things is not like the others...especially once arthur gets involved.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

meta knight. meta knight. sword. blade. meta knight. falspar. meta knight. meta knight. meta knight

[blametheeditor]

Do you have descriptions for all the FNAF bois? Very curious. Love your work. :) - 🧡

I have completely neglected to give true descriptions for them.

The audacity I have! I am unworthy of any love for any writing! We shall right this wrong!

Presenting: the FNAF bois

Scott Cawthon (A.K.A. Phone Guy, PG for short and Boss unironically)

Physical characteristics, he's 5' 9" with sandy hair and looks perpetually exhausted. You will never catch this man standing farther than 5 feet from a coffee mug if there's not one in hand, nor will he be caught dead in any kind of uniform or professional wear. It is strictly shorts and graphic t-shirts of his favorite bands.

As a wise person once said, his personality is overworked and praying that retirement is right around the corner it's never gonna happen. His life revolves around Fazbear's, every waking moment is either spent doing paperwork for the company, or physically at one of the locations to complete tasks like inspections or covering for a manager after they 'mysteriously' went missing. There's still a little bit of his dad side left, and it does come out from time to time, especially when certain employees act like disobedient children despite being full grown adults.

Disclaimer: he has absolutely no ties to the creator of FNAF Scott Cawthon. Not in personality, appearance, or otherwise. He just so happens to have the same name as the aforementioned creator, and has no one to blame for his life decisions but himself.

Vincent Wright (A.K.A. Purple Guy, Mutated Grape for those who are brave enough)

This one's literally purple, specifically hex# 5C00AC, from head to toe including his long hair he always has in a ponytail. Coincidentally, he perfectly matches the standard Fazbear night guard uniform that got discontinued after '87, never seen wearing anything but the short sleeve collared button down and slacks, though he refuses to hear a tie. This does not help the allegations he is a genetically engineered grape made to look and act like a human. And neither does never confirming nor denying if he is, in fact, human. Though he is happy to confirm his height is 5' 11". Did anyone ask? They didn't, but he confirmed!

Much like Scott, his sole purpose is to work for Fazbear's, tending to things happening behind closed doors. He's never really seen outside of the main offices of Fazbear Corporation, but when he is it's when he's following Scott, though if someone who's not supposed to know he exists spots him...And he doesn't follow to help oh no, he just likes to argue about the order in which inspections should be done, and really, Scotty, Foxy's the best animatronic? Foxy, when Bonnie's right there?

David Harrison (A.K.A. Douche Bag, prefers Mr. Harrison but stuck with just Harrison)

Picture this: the living embodiment of CEO. Never seen in anything except a perfectly tailored suit, so egotistical it is impossible to comprehend just how highly he thinks of himself, acts like it is an absolute pleasure to simply be in his very presence despite the fact he will guarantee talk down to you and yell the moment something isn't done to his near impossible standards. It doesn't help his 6' height and broad shoulders gives him quite the advantage considering he literally has to look down at you. Don't call him out for spiking his black hair in the attempt to give him another inch for bonus intimidation.

And he's been hired by the William Afton himself. Given his track record of helping hundreds of businesses rise from being on the boarder of going bankrupt to a thriving name of their respective industry, surely he can bring Fazbear out from the hole it dug itself and erase all the rumors if missing night guards and children disappearing from the restaurants. How hard can it really be?

Technically, it's not actually that hard. What is hard is keeping up with the literally bullshit he's constantly being handed. Such as Scott constantly bitching and demanding progress reports, a mutated grape, certain assholes just appearing in his restaurant and distracting him when he has better things to do than babysit. But does William listen when he has genuine complaints? No, the man just bushes him off like some low level employee. The moment his one year contract is up he's gone.

James Stiller (A.K.A. Snitches 'N Stitches, no, Stitch Snitch...Snitch Got Stich fuck)

He is 5' 9", with brown hair and brown eyes, and is someone who looks completely unassuming. Someone you can meet, exchange words with, and completely forget he ever existed even if the interaction had been him saving your life.

He's a doctor who works, well had worked, in the pediatrics wing of a hospital before Scott offered him a job to be on call across all Fazbear locations. He hadn't hesitated because a well known doctor who is trained for the ER, has a masters in psychology, and has written a few scholarly journals is clearly above a below minimum wage job running around children restaurants that should've been shut down a long time ago. He was only concerned about certain rumors about employees disappearing without a trace and didn't like Scott's insistence on having a lawyer on standby to read over the contract before signing it.

Eventually, he found a good middle ground with a contract after several meetings with William. Signed it. Almost immediately got berated by Scott because he broke the uniform code by wearing tennis shoes, to which he fired back it's either the shoes or the professional collared button up t-shirt turning into graphic shirts a certain supervisor clearly has nothing against. The shoes stayed, and he invited Scott to run with him sometime. The invitation has yet to be accepted.

Eggs Benedict (A.K.A. Been A Dick, pronounced been-uh-dick)

The literal embodiment of chaos. A gremlin, if you will. Fuzzy from Mario trapped inside a human body complete with blond hair, blue eyes, a thin 5' 10" frame, and a knack for getting on anyone's nerves within 5 seconds flat. Plainly said, the oldest sibling with younger sibling energy.

This thing also happens to be a genius mechanic. Will he ever tell anyone that? Psh, no, what's the fun in telling people he's competent when he can jump out like a jack-in-the-box and go gotcha bitch after getting praised by William for doing a flawless repair on the Funtimes! The answer is it wouldn't be fun, and neither would be telling someone what his favorite color is and instead taking it to the grave while joyfully announcing what he did in order to get suspended for a week while in college.

The best part is he wasn't even hired as a mechanic. Started off as a glorified janitor for Afton Robotics, the dream job in all honesty. All the glory in saying he works for Fazbear's without needing to actually do anything except chill with murderous animatronics and teach them how to properly play Uno. But then he possibly misjudged how close Funtime Foxy was to the door. Baby threatened to destroy his precious collection of mothballs if he didn't repair her. And now he's promoted so hey, win win!

Mike Schmidt (Michael when he's in trouble)

The reason for everyone's nicknames, and there's no way to get out of them because that's the only way he remembers you. Most people think he never calls anyone by their actual name because he's an asshole, and even though that's true it's because his memory isn't very reliable. Nor is his impulsivity. Side effects from an accident that left him with scars covering his entire head, ones rarely seen considering he always wears the night watch ballcap issued with every Fazbear uniform. The one's peeking out on his forehead are usually missed, because once you're that close, people tend to focus on the unnatural ashen completion and piercing blue eyes promising a fist if they don't back away.

There's good and bad that comes with those scars. It's hard to hold down a job when he curses tend to slip out, at least until he applied to become a Fazbear night guard. Then it kept him alive every night for several months. On one hand, the impulse to hunt down the animatronics one night when a certain rabbit started shit talking a little too much almost ended with him getting fired since a metal pipe left noticeable dents on the shells and needed to be repaired. On the other, he didn't get fired and even earned a bit of respect where even Bonnie admired his bravery and stupidity.

But he isn't anything if not loyal. Will be by your side no matter what happens, including facing off murderous animatronics with nothing but his fists. May not get social ques, but one word and he's happy to back off. Respect him, and you've earned a companion for life. Don't comment on his only outfit being the standard long sleeve uniform for Fazbear's or when he curses, and your teeth won't get knocked out. And if you ever try to disrespect those who've earned his loyalty, you're lucky if you get to live another day.

Jeremy Fitzgerald (A.K.A. The Jerber, Squeaky Toy when Mike isn't around to hear)

When you look at him, the word 'stilt walker' comes to mind. He just looks a bit too tall for his own good. 5' 10" is an average height, nothing really special, but he makes it seem like he's 6' off the ground while looking shorter at the same time. It doesn't help he constantly looks nervous, like something is going to come after him at any second. Grey eyes always wide open with his head tilted down in the hopes his brown curls will hide his face.

In his defense, he has every right to be nervous when he was hired as bait for murderous animatronics! All he needed was a job in order to survive considering he is living all on his own after just graduating high school, and no one else was hiring other than Fazbear's. He couldn't afford to be picky even though it's below minimum wage, not that he's ungrateful or anything! But if he's going to get killed then why can't they pay him enough to at least afford rent and food!

Honestly, it's a miracle he managed to survive as long as he has. Scott had been kind enough to schedule someone to train him, but one week was not enough to prepare him for doing this day after day, week after week, with nothing but his imminent death in his foreseeable future. At least Mike was nice, and if he's ever close to losing the game, the man said to just call and backup will arrive. He, uh, might be slightly worried what exactly 'backup' is supposed to mean...though the Toys are nice too when they're not trying to kill him.

Fritz Smith (A.K.A. Irish Jig, and sometimes David uses snaps to get his attention. That’s technically a nickname, right?)

The worst part about being a teenager is looking like a teenager, and his 5' 4" height isn't doing him any favors, nor does his big green eyes and freckled face lend any sort credibility. And to top it all off, he specifically looks like a rowdy one, because try as he might his red hair never cooperates and always looks like he just ran a mile. But rowdy teenagers who can get out of trouble with a single look are bad for hiring. Because how can a business trust he won't cause any issues while working, or even quit the same day he starts once he realizes it's all work and no play?

That's not something he would ever do, and he genuinely wants to work! But there's nothing he can do to prove himself until he gets hired, but he won't get hired until he proves it, and it's a never ending cycle he can only escape from by growing older. That is, until he stumbled upon Fazbear's, who didn't blink twice when he stepped through the doors to ask about the waiting staff opening. Essentially got hired on the spot and almost immediately had a pizza shoved at him with the demand to deliver it.

Within a few months he became employee of the month, even became the animatronics favorite after mastering the art of entertaining children who wanted his attention while making sure he never missed an order. He worked so hard and got so good at his job that even Scott himself took notice. Pulled him to the side one day to say he was getting transferred to another location with better pay and animatronics that moved during the day. The only thing he asked was if he could still stop by to say hi to Mike and the gang on the weekends. He’s a little ashamed to admit it, but he might’ve used puppy eyes to get a yes. Completely on accident, though!

Caleb White (A.K.A. Hell Spawn, and sometimes Crying Child)

There's two things people immediately notice, that being the fact tears constantly stream down his face, and there's a small golden plush bear being hugged protectively. The more they look, the more they notice his uncombed brown hair, pleading brown eyes, the dull color to the plush that says it should be tossed into the washer. And if they look for too long, the bear's black eyes with white pinpricks will stare directly into their soul.

At least, that's what Fredbear tells him. And he trusts Fredbear, more than anything, which means he needs to start combing his hair better but he'll never put the bear in the washer. Not when he's only 8, and 8 year olds aren't allowed to know the right buttons to press, so his brother says he'll make sure Fredbear gets clean. But he'll put Fredbear in the washer without knowing how to use it long before he ever gives his brother his only friend. Because if he does, he'll never see Fredbear again. And then who will help him keep the Nightmares away?

William Afton (A.K.A. Mr. Asshole, Afton disrespectfully)

The color maroon is an interesting one. Not quite brown, not quite red, and there is a delicate balance that needs to be struck so neither color overpowers the other. To create a harmonious blend is a near impossible task. It can be accomplished, however, if someone is skillful enough. And contrary to what some may believe, he is aware of where his strength and weakness lie.

Such a regal color. Especially on a well-tailored suit made to accentuate someone's height. Certainly compliments black hair and blue eyes quite nicely, wouldn't you agree?

[goldyluna]

Fanfic description time <3

The presence of Golden Moon was felt even before she arrived, the light of her tunic travelling faster than her. Her steps were light and barely audible given her graceful strolling through dimensions, which was made up for by the sight of shining gold of her star accessories. The hair of hers could range from fair as Sun and long as ray to black as Moon’s shadow with silver lining to violet pink of Earth’s sunset. A set of big raven-like wings could be seen behind. It should be said that wings’ color and form could be quickly changed as the goddess wished.

The most notable thing, however, was Golden Moon’s divine brush that she always carried with her. A brush of contradiction, it could paint the world in gold or silver, in happy tones or bittersweet gloom. Depending on the universe, different proportions of golden light were used, highlighted by silver shading. While pitch black darkness was left possessing the other worlds. It was the mission of the goddess to fill this void to her heart’s content. And that was what she set out to do   

(Maybe there are some mistake because I'm sleepy as Keiji-what is sleep?-Shinogi. But I really liked the idea so I wanted to continue the Golden Moon theme)

Oh my goodness gracious! Thank you aaaaaaaah <33 this brings me a great joy to read all that!

I really love being represented as Golden Moon (even if it is really just my name in a different form)—a goddess wanting to fill the world with golds and silvers.

I am in love with the brush of contradiction. And I take it as the greatest compliment to my creations! It was really nice to read about the art from your perspective.

I adore this description of me. All of the things—how she looks and what she brings with herself... It paints me in such beautiful light, full of stars and magic. Thank you for sharing this piece with me and I am happy you are in the same universe like me <33

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Okay I don't think I'm allowed to ask about all your WIPs (trust me if I could I would) and I want you to know that I am extraordinarily torn between Tan Lines canon divergence and Texts (how could you make me choose??? The cruelty!!! /j). But because Texts is so much less descriptive, I am VERY curious about it and will send my ask about that :) thank you so much and I hope you have a lovely day!

What are tag game rules, except waiting to be broken? ;) But excellent call on your part, really, as I got another ask for the Tan Lines one.

“Texts” is not only less descriptive, the thing itself is also exceedingly vague compared to the other WIP:s. It’s not even a proper fic, really… Basically, I got home from a night out, used a word generator to give myself a three word prompt while fairly sloshed, and somehow ended up playing around with one of those sites that lets you create fake text conversations. Now I have a vision of RJK shenanigans, only the whole thing is just texts, bc I'm weak for that sort of thing. Like this:

God knows where it's going or if it'll ever get done, though.

My day has been moderately lovely, and all the more so for all the inbox fic fun. I hope you’ve had a great day, too, and thank you so much for the ask! <3

[moonyslesbian]

hihihi what are your tattoos of??? (no pressure to answer i’m justing being nosy) i hope you’ve had a lovely day <3

hiii omg no pressure felt at all!! ok i have five: one is a snake going around two stars and biting into a half moon, another is like a duo of cherries where instead of them being cherries they're two skulls, third one is just a summer piece cause its a sandal w a palm tree and little birds flying around, fourth one is a little silhouette of a cat sitting down and the drawing is kind of hayao miyazaki inspired, and the fifth one is a safety pin w two hearts hanging off of it: one going like this :) and the other going like this :(

Inbox me (1) thing you want to know about me.

[wolfavens]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Pick ✨ONE✨sim of yours and describe their overall aesthetic/vibe using five descriptive words or things

Aaah okay so this is such a great one i can't believe i'm only getting to it now! of course I need to do brian *goes to stare at his pinterest board for hours & ponder* I. light leaks warming floor covered with records II. out of tune singing to a car radio III. midnight supermarket munchies IV. rust on a vw golf '95 V. camera roll full of a girl & her cat

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

MACCC!! for the fanfic ask game thing. ummm i don't know a specific word 2 send but i am intrigued. eyes emoji. (<<on computer and do not want 2 look up emojis just to copy/paste one) what r u writing!!! what's ur fav passage in it so far!!!! i wanna hear abt ur writing!!!!

omg whiskey i forgot we were not mutuals while i was in my fanfic writing arc. omg. i have not written a fic since we became mutuals holy shit !!!!!! absolutelyly insane . ANYWAY i write about my ocs all the time and also silly little self indulgent stories that i dont share bc theyre just for me. BUT. CURRENLTY. i missed writing fics so i am in a months long hiatus of a fic for mission to zyxx which is a silly improv comedy podcast that i was super into right before i got into trigun !!!!!!!! its my beloved ever. however the trigun brain worms overtook me before i finished my fic and i have not gone back to work on it much :( i WANT to finish it tho bc the fandom is very small annnd i literally read every single fic in the ao3 tag in the span of like a week. i need 2 add to it.

ANYWAY basics of the fic (spoilers for mission to zyxx incoming !!) :

the main character has a bug egg laid in his eye and throughout all of season 2 it just grows in his eye and makes it look all fucked up until the s2 finale where the egg hatches and another character pulls his eye out before the bug makes his head explode. << its not as fucked up as it sounds bc this is a full comedy podcast so everything is played for goofs and this moment only lasts a total of like 6 seconds but i am a sucker for body horror especially when it involves gross bugs so !!! i am judt rewriting that scene with my own headcanons ans making it scary and emotional 😌 hi my names mac ghostiezone and i love horror and gay people.

I HAVE TO REREAD MY ENTIRE WIP TO FIND A PART TO POST i cant believe ur making me do this (<< THANK U I HAVE NOT LOOKED AT IT IN WEEKS) apologies in advance for my setup i like 2 write on my phone in the middle of the night so my google docs is in perma-darkmode:

<< we love an alien mind contrrol parasite that makes a usually cowardly docile character behave like a monster 😌😌😌😌

[pushing500]

Do any of the furniture mods add more artworks?

If you mean artworks that your colonists can make at an artbench and the like, then yes!

One of my favourite mods is actually the "Vanilla Furniture Expanded - Art" mod. It adds all sorts of super cool things to make, including simpler things like pottery and nice rugs, to more advanced things like hologram sculptures and even Archotech sculptures that you can get as quest rewards! You can make wall reliefs and statues and obelisks and that kind of thing. I have so much fun decorating my colonies with all sorts of art, and reading the bizarre Rimworld descriptions on everything.

It's definitely a very good mod if you're looking for more ways to spice up your decor and get good use out of a colonist with a high art skill. I absolutely recommend it! :D

[anbroids]

hi hey holy shit your writing is fucking phenomenal. what a rare gem. i wish i had a tenth of your talent & skill and im fucking obsessed with integument dirk & jake they are so. just. words fail me bc im at work but ill get back to you when i conjure an apt description. and your depiction of roxy and jane is also so goddamn good. jane especially is wonderful ilhsm. i have never in my entire life read something that rings so true to the alpha kids- you have brought them to life in a way that canon fucking WISHES it could achieve. im hooked. lined. sinkered, even.

HI HEY HELLO ANON?????????? AAAAAAAAAHHHHHH

this is. way too kind. falls over and dies. literally thank you so much holy shit? i've been staring at this all day at such an absolute loss. it sounds corny but i can't tell you how happy i am that the characterizations have rung true for you. trying to flesh them out the best i can in the google docs dollhouse.

in many ways dirk and jake in integument feel like these frankenstein'd monsters made up of parts of canon and parts of myself and parts of all these motifs i enjoy which i'm sure is a common feeling for writers but it always feels like. so mind bogglingly special to know someone else finds that interesting. (or worthy of obsession. man. thank you so much augh.) the act of sharing writing online has not stopped being a vulnerable process for me i guess like it's pretty difficult for me to not feel like well here goes... bearing my very soul on the internet today. in this objectively silly ass format. so to achieve even a morsel of realism that resonates with a reader is so incredibly encouraging and exciting to hear especially with this kind of outlandish premise. (can i call it outlandish? IDK. i guess i just know it's not for everyone. not trying to flatter myself here.)

also i am particularly happy to hear you are enjoying jane in this :,) she is SO VERY DEAR TO ME. i have a lot of jane centric stuff outlined i've been meaning to get to. hopefully some day fingers crossed...

thank you thank you thank you anon i hope you have a wonderful day <3