#always wanted 2 live in a labyrinth

[kneelingshadowsalome]

I know we're all focused on Satyr/Faun König but that bull comment... I'm quite partial to minotaur's and whats better than a darling who isn't from the area. Oh yes she's innocent of the crimes against König because she was not raised there.

Some foreign little creature just running blind in a maze trying to see where there might be a way out. It's been days after all and the screaming has gotten quieter and she wonders if she's the last one left alive. He takes his time eating his meals... this can be stretched out for such a long time as she hides herself in a dead end just a short rest... the darling is so tired unaware of the horrifyingly silent steps moving closer to her little haven. It's just her left now.

@kit-williams I've wanted to write for Minotaur!König for ages!

Minotaur!König x Ariadne!Reader Word count: 5 k oneshot Tags/warnings: Sexual tension, threats of violence and rape, implied cannibalism, power imbalance, moral ambiguity. Predator/prey dynamic, Beauty and the Beast elements, Ancient Greek religion & lore. 18+ MDNI A/N: The Minotaur in this story is not an actual hybrid. Reader is Hecate’s initiate. Merry Christmas y'all! <3

EDIT: PART 2 HERE

The screams are the worst part.

They echo through the Labyrinth while you wait and wait and wait.

Even the very stones seem to cry and wail as you place your hope on Theseus who descended to this hell along with you and the human cattle. Seven young men and seven unwed women, meant to satisfy a beast...

And judging by the screams alone, it sounds like the monster is satisfied. It sounds like it's having a ball.

Fourteen lives have been lost, their blood swallowed by the earth as if Hades himself is drinking the crimson of Athenian youth in His feast. The flesh is the beast’s to devour: an underworld demon born of tainted lust.

Half bull, half man, you always thought the stories were only tales told by the fire to scare children. Turns out that the stories, for once, are true. There's something even worse in this maze, something cursed and foul... Hecate herself would shiver if She were here, in the womb of the earth, witnessing what you’re witnessing now.

You don’t actually see the Bull of Crete cut or hack or slash anyone, and you can only imagine what the monster does to the bloody, gutted corpses of the young. The only thing you see are the hollow, dark walls carved out of soil, sand, and clay, the intestine-like route dug deep into the earth. And you don't have to see the massacre: the screams tell you enough. The silence that follows betrays even more.

Your only light is flickering, waning: the candle will hardly last an hour. If the hero from Athens won’t arrive soon, you will have to leave this place. 

And oh, how you want to leave… You were a fool to follow him here. Blinded by love and hope, you thought Theseus of Athens would be your way out of Crete, but it’s clear that the only thing the young hero is capable of loving is fame. The only time his eyes turned to yours was when you said you might be able to help him with a small bundle of yarn.

Red as the setting sun or spilling blood, the thin woollen string is your only way out now. It’s ironic how a heap of twine is the only thing that can help you out of this hellhole, but the Fates always did possess a cruel sense of humour. Your silly daydreams might’ve cost your life, and even if you’re sworn to the dark goddess, you would rather die anywhere but here. In the darkness, all alone, with nothing but eyeless worms to keep company to your decaying bones.

The sudden draft from the outside world is warm but threatens to blow out your candle. It’s a sign from Apollo: if you don’t leave now, you’re dead. Theseus has to manage without you because you’re not dying in this underworld prison because of some man’s stupid lust for fame.

There's only deafening silence in the maze as you scurry up, taking support from the wall as your sight darkens for a moment. You rose too soon: you can’t even remember the last time you ate. And it appears that even the sun god has abandoned you because there's a faint echo of steps in the tunnel, and they don’t belong to a man. They’re too thick, unduly heavy, and it’s not a pair of sandals that are thumping against the soil.

So, Theseus is dead...

So much for the legend, the myth, the demigod.

Heart thumping in your chest and in the hollow of your throat, it threatens to drown the sound of approaching footsteps. They’re all dead, the people who descended here with you. The only thing you are right now is prey. You're being hunted; whether the Minotaur knows you're here or not, you know you're being hunted. You can feel it in your gut.

You cover the candle with one hand, hoping that the flickering light doesn’t reach around the bend. The falling thump of the footsteps stops, and you still your breath, hoping that the beast would turn around and search the other way.

You hear it sniffing behind the wall. It's trying to catch your scent in the air, the smell of dread and terror, sweat so thick it must reach his nostrils and make them flare with lust. Your heart is thundering in your chest, and the tunnel is so quiet that that you’re certain the creature will hear that, too. (Your heart always betrays you.)

And your luck is cursed.

The beast shifts. 

You can’t see him yet, but you can hear it: the scraping sound underneath his feet as he aligns himself anew, choosing the path that leads straight down to you.

“Hecate save me,” you whisper into the air that seems to grow denser as he approaches, loud thumps of feet now accompanied by metal grating against clay. 

“Hear me, flame-bearing guide... Darkness, protect me…”

He’s dragging bronze against the wall, announcing that he’s carrying a weapon with him, the strength of a bull apparently not satisfying enough if he wants to break your bones with metal.

Don’t blow out the candle... 

If you blow it out, you’ll die.

It’s a clear message, a knowing voice in your head that says it. It’s not young, it’s not old: just knowing. Alert. Wise beyond ages. 

So you still your breath and wait.

Shadows fill the curve of the tunnel just before he emerges: thick like thunder, a darkness so deep that even the name of the twilight goddess escapes your tongue. 

And he’s big. Bigger than the bulls you used to dance with, bigger than kings, or heroes, bigger than even Theseus, the man you thought was a myth walking. His head is enormous, bigger than the rest of him, awkward and rough like it’s not quite part of him even though he’s supposed to be half ox. 

The gigantic, horned figure stops when it sees you. Vast shoulders tense; the fat, double-edged sword falls to his side when he settles to loom between you and your only way to escape this place. You’re oddly thankful that the horrible screeching stopped, but then you notice that his blade is drenched in blood: actually, his torso, thighs, even the buckskin loincloth – the only garment this monster has chosen to wear – is spattered with red dots. 

The bronze tip drips with crimson, and the earth drinks it all. Hades is never satisfied: this beast is never full. Everyone who was sent down here is dead: everyone else has met their doom except you. You wonder if your mother would cry if she heard her only daughter died because she fell in love with a fool.

“I killed your hero,” the walls of hell boom. 

His voice is thick like tar, dark and foul like it’s the God of Earth himself speaking.

The flame in your hand quivers from fear, and you slowly remove your palm, the tiny candle illuminating the beast with warm homely yellow, making the prominent muscles of his chest even bigger. 

He’s carved like the statues in Athens, only, this giant is far hairier than the painted marble heroes of the city. The hair on his chest is thick and wild; it shoots down his abdomen and disappears underneath the loincloth, spreads over his inner thighs, even covers his shins in dark mats. He looks like a wild man, a beast indeed: sweaty, filthy and thick. But you never knew a beast like him could talk…

“A coward, that one,” he snarls, the voice reverberating oddly like it’s a human man speaking from under a wooden mask or inside a clay jug.

And you believe every word he says.

Theseus was strong and able-bodied, but he had built his strength just to show it off. This man’s body speaks of pure, ripe survival.

A hulking shadow with shoulders that barely fit the tunnels of the Labyrinth, with palms nearly twice the size of yours, he’s the myth walking instead of the hero whose blood now adorns that dull bronze blade. The Minotaur who survived his father’s wrath, his mother’s absence, these bleak surroundings, and all the heroes sent down to get his head… His weapon isn’t even sharp anymore, and still, he managed to cut through the sacrificial humans like butter. And what a horrific death it must’ve been to be hacked to pieces by a dull blade.

Is it evil of you to hope that the death of your “hero” wasn’t a quick one…?

Theseus was a fool and a coward, rotten to the core, but you saw all of that too late. He never cared about the human sacrifices or the king’s wrath; he never cared about digging into Pasiphae’s sorrow. He only cared about getting his face depicted on a pot or having his deeds played out in amphitheatres, his name uttered in song, accompanied by harp and flute.

“I know.”  

Your voice gets sucked into the earth: it doesn’t echo from the walls like his. It’s thin, damp, and frail, just like everything else meant to walk under the sun instead of stand buried under the earth.

But the beast before you tilts its head a little. It’s curious. 

Why would you say that? 

Why don’t you cry from hearing the news...? Why don’t you howl out your hero’s name and beg the gods to heed your grief? Why don’t you run away from a monster?

The candlelight is puny and weak, but it’s bright enough to bring out the eyes of an animal. You draw breath in the dampness of the earth when you finally see it: the bull’s head is devoid of eyes, and yet, the beast still has them. Blue as the summer sky, stern as the death grip of winter just before spring.

There’s nothing but ripped shreds of skin where the eyes should be, and instead of looking at you from the sides, they’re greeting you from the front. The horns are sturdy, but otherwise, the colossal head is a bit skewed... Thick patches of fur sticking out as if it was years and years old, and then – you realize it’s not his head; it’s only an illusion. 

There’s a man under there. A full, grown man who’s made himself a terrible helmet out of a bull’s carcass. 

“You’re a man,” you say out loud, earning yourself another shift of the colossal head.

“...What?”

The muffled echo confirms it: he’s speaking from inside the bull, moving only slightly to get a better look at you. 

“You’re not a monster. You’re just a man.”

His eyes are wild but intelligent; they pierce you from inside the inanimate shield. The large chest heaves, his ribs flare like sails as he draws air through what must be the foul stench of a long-dead animal.

He takes a step, and you shrink, almost dropping your candle and the roll of red yarn.

“You think talking will save you, female?”

He speaks like a man, walks like a man, but his moves are an animal’s. Shoulders slightly hunched like he’s a bull about to attack, you recognize the way his muscles quiver from the times when you used to do bull leaping. You don’t dance with Rhea’s oxen anymore: your tasks at Hecate’s temple are more suitable and less wild for a maiden your age. Back when you were younger and more agile, you used to jump from the back of one bull to the next, clouds of dust swirling around you as you showed your prowess to the priests.

But you can’t charm this ox by dancing. This one can’t be tricked or fooled: he will pierce you with those horns or his brazen sword if you take even a step.

“I can get you out of here,” you wet your lips, noticing that the blue eyes shoot straight to your mouth when you do that. “I know the way out.”

“What makes you think I want out,” he says, so tight and tense that you fear he’s either about to leap at your throat or plunge his sword into your chest.

And you should be concerned about your own safety, not about his sensibilities – if he even has such things – but hearing this beast man’s reply is like drinking bile. 

Why would anyone want to stay here?

You don’t know if he eats human flesh; you don’t know if he had to in order to survive. Everyone knows why his father threw him down here, but no one knows he’s not half the things the people above say he is. And if half of it isn’t true, what other lies have been told about the Minotaur? 

Even most prisoners see the sun, yet this man has been deprived of that, too. He’s been robbed of mother’s love, of father’s mercy, of friends and foes, of mentors and guides. He’s been robbed of life, of stars, of fires and summer skies, of women’s giggles, of fistfights with fellow men. Of songs and plays, of festivals and games, of bull dances, and maidens that leap…

“Have you ever been up there…? On the surface?”

You turn your voice into soft water on pebbles, a soothing pour of persuasion and goodwill. His pecs contract, strong abs under thin hair and body fat bunch like you’re about to hit him there. You take a step, and now it’s his turn to shun away. It’s only half an inch, but he actually moves away from you. 

“I can take you there,” you offer gently. “Have you ever seen the sun…?”

It’s like talking to a starved predator, trying to entice them to follow you with a fresh steak in hand, hoping that the fanged mouth won’t take more than was promised if it decides to accept the offering.

And the beast accepts. 

“As a boy,” he grunts, a tad more softly. 

Those eyes are fixed on you, reminding you of horses when they’re slightly afraid. The glint of white and blue behind the carcass is fiercely alive, quite unlike the hollow, disinterested stare of the Athenian hero who was only interested in himself.

But this beast is interested. Oh, the Bull Man of Crete is wildly, fiercely curious about you. 

“You’ll take me to the sun,” he repeats, an affirmation rather than a question.

“Yes. To the surface. I promise.”

He moves. Like an animal who learned long ago to drive others into the corner so that he wouldn’t get forced there himself, he’s primal, sensual in the way that oracles in a trance are sensual.

Approaching you in silence that’s almost eerie, the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end by the time he’s only an arm’s length away. Why announce his coming earlier if he can move so quietly?

“You’ll lead me to my father.” 

His gaze bores into you, and not even the warm draft from the tunnels can prevent you from shivering. He’s distrustful, and it’s no wonder. It must be odd that some girl with a candle and a bundle of yarn is suddenly waiting for him around the bend, and doesn’t even flee. He’s a behemoth, but he’s not stupid. A stupid man would not have been able to survive, let alone thrive in this place.

And why should he trust you? Who is he supposed to trust in this maze when every person he has seen has either run away from him or tried to kill him? His father will slaughter him if he ever escapes the Labyrinth, so what else is a priestess in his kingdom but a squealing mouse, trying to feed him lies and then guide him to the surface and into a forest of spears? 

“No,” you shake your head slowly. “No, I promise I know the way. There will be no soldiers–”

You shut your mouth just before a huge palm closes around your throat. 

Gods, but he moves fast when he wants to… 

The candle and the yarn drop the instant his hand seizes your neck, strong fingers nearly meeting at the back as he squeezes your windpipe ever so slowly.

And he’s so close now. The carcass reeks of death, but the man underneath stinks of plain human sweat. His musk is a peculiar mix of blood, earth and soil, something both stale and invigorating, the thin sheen of sweat and dirt covering his muscles making him look like a common builder. It’s strange that the bull’s head hasn’t yet decayed in this place, that the man doesn’t reek of bodies and bones that must be scattered around like debris further down the tunnels. 

Another thing that’s strange is that he doesn’t seem to want to simply silence you.

He also wants to touch you.

A wide thumb strokes the underside of your jaw as he studies you. It slides down the column of your throat, the blue eyes gleaming with fascination when you swallow against him.

He drinks in the sight of you: the lips that part with fear, the frail collarbones that breathe against the side of his palm. The promising crevice between your breasts, the enticing softness of your teats. 

You can hear his breath grow heavy under ox skin and bone, the rugged, vicious helmet he has chosen to wear. What lies under, you can only imagine, wherein he has little left to the imagination when taking in the curve of your breasts, your nipples rising to peaks under the thin white linen only temple virgins use. 

Seeing your reaction to his touch makes him growl -- he actually growls like an animal, a deep, low rumble of approval rising up his throat when he sees how different your body is from his. How supple and cushy it is, soft and plump like a peach, covered only barely as if to tease a best like him. You wonder if he ever took pleasure in the maidens sent here by the king… If he ever thrust the sword between his legs into their weak bodies before giving them the mercy of his actual blade. Would he even know what to do with a woman, having lived here for so long?

“Please,” you whisper, bringing his eyes back to yours, the ice in them now liquid sapphire of pure want. 

Gods… You need to bring his attention back to your offer of help before he sees it more compelling to just stay here and play with his new, plump little mouse. Virgin or not, you wouldn’t survive a mating with this man. 

“I swear on Hecate’s torch that it’s not a trap. You have my word: I’m a priestess soon to be.”

He’s entranced. Hypnotized by your lips. You lick them to confirm your fears true: the man grunts with pleasure, out of instinct, absentmindedly like an animal who reacts to the sight of a fat, meaty bone. 

Oh, he might not know what to do with a woman… But he would try his best to find out. 

“Priestess…?” He rasps.

“It’s a holy woman,” you explain. “I serve the Goddess of the Crossroads.”

He snorts, either because he’s not impressed or because he’s downright amused by your vocation. The eyes, warmer, more demanding now, are far from the eyes of a bewildered beast.

“Little female of the crossroads... You will take me to the king. And then, I will kill him.”

He puts weight into his words, tries to make you understand. 

He wants you to guide him to his father. 

To the King who claims his son is half bull, to the husband who claims his wife was adulterous with an ox. To the King who demands tribute as virgins so that he can send them down to hell. The dark goddess screams justice, but you're at a horrible stalemate.

The gods will curse you for this… They will smite you with a bolt of lightning or drown you next time you cross the great sea if they see you’ve helped this half-beast escape. If you guide him to Minos, you’re a participant in kingslaying, and the gods never forget things like that.

“He’s your father and the king of Crete,” you whisper in fear. “The gods will strike you down–”

“Gods?” He spits. “I piss on the gods. I fuck their corpses and leave them to rot.”

You almost choke on the blasphemy levelled at you. The shadows creep closer, the stare behind the black fur is dark and amused, burning with the crooked wrath of a thousand years. 

“Perhaps I’ll fuck you too.”

It’s unnerving that you don’t find the threat wholly unappealing.

If anything, your eyes drift down to the hairs of his chest, to the two big muscles that resemble the work of the best sculptors in Athens. 

“Are you a virgin, female of the crossroads?”

His eyes search for your response: they want to see your fear and disgust. You swallow again, arduously against his hand, both caressing and testing you. 

The beast leans forward, as if weighing if he could somehow insult the gods by pillaging you. The rough hair of his chest meets the white cloth, it brushes against your nipples as he bends down to have a good sniff of you.

“You smell like a virgin,” he growls.

The hand leaves your throat, only to travel down your sternum. He grabs your breast nonchalantly, a little too roughly, the hot palm closing around the teat and squeezing it like it’s a toy. When you don’t react, he squeezes it again, this time hard enough to coax a whimper out of you.

“Sound like a virgin…”

Without warning, the hand dives straight between your legs next, palm forcing its way through your thighs and curving to cup your sex, moulding around it with barbaric thirst.

“Feel like a virgin, too.”

It’s thick, hot, and heavy, how he simply tries you through your dress. Fingers testing your folds, he’s clearly enjoying the subtle wetness he finds down there. You can hear another hitched grunt pushing up his throat, rugged and whiny this time, a broken groan that dissipates because of how dry his throat is. 

No man has ever dared to lay his hands on you... Many have wanted, but none have tried. Even drunkards and fools respect women who belong to the dark goddess.

But he doesn’t care about the wrath of Hecate. He doesn’t give a shit about the gods. He simply takes what he wants, what falls into his lap. The fifteenth offering, but he doesn’t seem to be interested in devouring your flesh. 

How easily he could simply yank that loincloth aside and drag your dress up. Force his cock into your tight, wet heat without uttering a word. You doubt that he would even take the trouble of laying you down on the ground for taking... Beasts rut when they want to: this man could fuck you against this wall if his loins demanded so, guttural groans being the last thing you hear before the candle goes out. 

You don’t know if you have to spread your legs for him before this is over, but you reckon you will do even that if it means you’ll see the sun again. You’ll endure every thick thrust, and gods be cursed, you wouldn’t even be solely disgusted if this half-animal chose to breed you... As shameful as it is, you would somewhat enjoy having him rut you like an animal in heat.

And you’ve gone mad, surely. 

You want to touch him too, just to test another theory. 

Deciding that it's a good idea to stick your hand into the maw of hell, your fingers lift. They meet his bicep, and the lewd panting stops.

He’s not even breathing… He’s just drowsy and drunk, looking at you with a mixture of soft sleepiness and awe in his stare. Like a dog who has never been petted, even his eyes drift half closed when he forgets to threaten you, now focusing solely on your hand. 

And you start to caress him, slowly, so slowly… Tracing the muscle all the way up where it meets the shoulder, you stroke even the thick cord that leads to his neck. The rest of him disappears under the bull, but the man behind it already shivers under your touch. He even bends his head a little in hopes that you would go under the mask and touch him there, and the gesture reminds you of an animal exposing its vulnerable areas, baring its very throat in submission. 

Braving a quick peek down, you notice that the buckskin cloth is stretched high and wide. His whole body is tense and immobile: you could cup him through the soft animal skin and he would probably shoot his seed from a single stroke of your palm. 

If this is not a virgin, you don’t know what is...

In a way, it would perhaps be wise to shove your hand down and disarm this man. That way, you would be safe for a few more minutes. Instead, you lay your palm over his chest, right over where his heart should be. 

“So do you, Bull of Crete...”

His gaze flickers.

The darkness hesitates, widens, nearly swallows the azure pools whole. But he doesn’t look irate or wild... Only shocked.

It’s an impasse. A thicket. His hand on you, your hand on him.

He surrenders first: the underworld budges before the utterly pure. You bless him with grace the instant he withdraws his hand from between your legs – slowly, reluctantly, like leaving a place that belongs to him. Or to which he belongs…

“I promise I’ll help you, Minos Tauros. But I need you to give me something in return.”

You remove your hand too. Softly, slowly, like a horse master who trains and tames wild things. All words seem to have escaped his tongue: he only grunts, unsure of what a beast like him could give you in return for your help.

“You must promise to be kind to me.”

“Kind...?”

“I need you to behave,” you explain. “No bad things on the way up... No fucking.”

Everything else, he seems to accept, but during the last sentence the Minotaur blinks at you, utterly confused.

“But... You smell like you want to fuck.” 

Your jaw drops open a tiny bit. Then you remember that a priestess of Hecate doesn’t gawk.

“I don’t–How would you know that…?”

The beast only shrugs. Then he leans forward and takes another sniff as if to prove it’s true that you want his cock inside you.

“You smell good,” he grunts. “Different... Female, not afraid.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to…”

He even raises his hand to inspect the slight wetness there. Fascinated by the thin film on his fingers, he rubs his thumb in it, probably thinking about bringing it under his mask to get a good sniff of your juices too.

You grab his wrist without thinking, mortified to your core by the prospect of him getting high on your slick. 

“Look. We need to leave before the candle burns out.”

The obsessive stare threatens to swallow you once more, so you let go of his wrist and steel your resolve. Scooting down to grab your things, you try to ignore the violent erection still pointing straight at you.

Hecate keep you from offering yourself to this man out of your own free will...

And you don’t have a torch, only a candle and a skein of blood-red yarn, but you know the way out, so there’s hope. There’s always hope.

“I need you to promise me,” you turn at the mouth of the tunnel, seeing that he’s still standing there, in the place where he almost took you like his first whore. As if waking up from a thrall, he straightens to his full height, picks up his sword and looks like a half-human, half-bull once more.

“I promise,” comes a booming voice from under the animal skull. “No fucking… I’ll behave.” 

You nod. There's a sense of trust in the air. A promise of hope... It's mutual, invigorating -- life-giving, like the sun and blood in your hands.

You don't know if the son of Minos has ever smiled in here, but from the quick glint in his eyes, you suspect that he's smiling right now, the man under that animal mask. Somehow, it reminds you of the stars in the sky.

“Lead the way, maiden.”

[fruityindividual]

sash's *bangs gavel* divorce!! recs

lil collection of some faves + tbr's for anyone keen for fics of the sickeningly fond wolfstar exes variety <3

hurling crowbirds at mockingbars @wrapped-up

jesus where 2 begin. the 'then' vs 'now' of it all GAH.. it's sweet and funny and angsty and beautifully written. the characterisations n lil details n the Jealousy.. laurv when rj lupin is w someone else cos we're all like 'hm. sure.' n sirius is all 'sure well. for now.' massive ty 2 @whorerific for reccing this one!!

dreaming of after @del-stars

perusing the r/s + divorce search tab as one does, this one caught me off guard i was NOT PREPARED 2 luv it as much as i did.. sirius my LUV. the angst the miscommunication the lovely ending. well i sure did enjoy this one. the most divorced un-divorced couple 2 ever never divorce undivorceably

rolling in the deep @kaaaaaaarf

present 4 me!!! karfster, whilsttt ur hatefuck r/s saga has my heart, this is delish!! SAUR hot angry n unhinged n i'm v glad u shared this w us. ur writing is..mhm it's just so. like so very. x

orange juice (i've been ready for you to come home for so long) -raggedypond

lads. lads this fic bangs. miscommuncation? No communication!! giggled kicked my feet they should never communicate ever actually. they should exclusively use smoke signals at night or whtevr they should always b this frustrating n wonderful.. luv this lil thing v v much

fault lines @greyeyedmonster-18

think abt this one all. the. time. they're so sickeningly fond of each other.. the depth of their relationship is just. well i don't cry when reading but i rlly wanted 2 w this one. r/s separate n raise harry n well. this is a 4evr fave.. heartbreaking n soso heartwarming n beautiful

bound (series) -shiftylinguini

will always n 4evr rec this series. exes 2 luvrs bby the girls they r fighting!!! angry sirius eeeek.. smiling just thinkin abt when i read this for the first time.. sirius comes back from the veil n his ex-husband has married his cousin n absolutely no one is having a nice time. well. well that's not- [major moon emoji]

here we are again -dykesiriusblack

this was the first r/s muggle au i read so don't remember it teww well but. sexually charged wine tasting ('i tell u wht folks that is really nice. that is- that is bloody loveleh') .. the memories, the banter, the lovely awkwardness of 'hi it's me. n u. well here we fucking are again' ....whimpering

a grave mistake @soloorganaas

PA-LEEK !! another sirius is back from the dead au n rj lupin (chronic loserboygenius extraordinaire) has married his ex-husband's cousin (swotting his nose w a newspaper).. oh they're so messy n flawed n wonderful. (also. well. this fic is rlly hot. mhm.) HEARTBREAKING n LOVELY fic

of memories and milk thievery @mayescapade

if u haven't read this i assume u live under a v hard, soundproof rock. deserves every single bit of love .. it Bangs. silly ex-husbands steal each other's groceries n veg n it's all soso fun n beautiful.. luv it so bad, they should divorce again i think

what's in the tbr....

penciled in -nordicsun

think i'll be leaving sum big fat comments on this. it's this feeling i have.

through the gaps of sunlight @pancakehouse & art by @belleandsaintsebastian

victorian exes2luvrs r/s. r u JOKING. wht the heck this looks gorgeous

right back where we started from @soloorganaas

magic + divorce ..HIHELLOHOWRUUU. cannot believe i haven't begun this yet

you can have this heart to break @anouri

yas, u can deffo have my heart 2 break, this looks delish

labyrinth @mayescapade

'he wasn't you.' .....biting my lip.

read the tags, leave the authors love, etc.. kay bye <3

[borninwinter81]

Library tour - Pratchett and Gaiman focused with some honourable mentions

Of course I've constantly had full bookshelves since I was a child, but I'd always wanted a room I could properly call a library. The house my husband and I now live in has 3 bedrooms, so as we're child free we've each taken one of the spare rooms to do with as we wish.

The majority of the furniture you see is thrifted (aside from the bookcases) and it was self decorated with a lot of cut corners-for example I decided instead of proper flooring it would be cheaper just to pull up the carpet and varnish the actual boards.

I spend more time in here than I do in our living room 😁

Gaiman stuff. Sandman alongside some Alan Moore, Preacher, Hellblazer, my signed copy of The Crow and one volume of Sin City. Two copies each of Ocean (one illustrated), and American Gods (original and authors preferred text). And of course one of my copies of Good Omens. Plus you can see the novelisation of Pan's Labyrinth sitting next to Neverwhere. Del Toro is another favourite fantasist of mine.

Pratchett stuff. Complete Discworld of course, and I'm slowly increasing my non Discworld Pratchett collection, my second copy of GO, the Paul Kidby illustrated edition (makes sense to have one living with the Gaiman books and the other with Pratchett). Soul Music and Hogfather are both signed, I met Pterry when I was 14 on the Hogfather signing tour.

The crocheted toy was actually from a pattern for a mimic I made (pattern by Complicated Knots on YouTube), but it's luggage-y enough that I put it with the Discworld books, Rob Wilkins' biography of Pterry, and a Librarian to look after everything, make sure the books don't get rowdy and take care of the L-space. I've had him since I was 18.

Specifically Good Omens stuff: a pair of felt plushies a friend made for me after S1 was released (@diedarlingsuk on Instagram), a pair of drawings I bought from a very talented 15 year old artist at a tiny comic con also after S1, (I'd credit her but I've no idea of her name or if she has an online presence), the script book, the TV companion, and an art book by the wonderful @mistysblueboxstuff, who I'm sure most of the fandom know and love. This contains all her GO art from S1 and S2.

Honourable mention stuff - I put above that I love Del Toro, so I've got to share the Angel of Death from Hellboy 2 as its one of my favourite things in this room. And its an angel, so that's kinda linked.

Made for me by another friend from clay on a doll's body and the wings on wire frames (@sids_workshop on Instagram).

Finally the Complete William Blake illuminated works, a guidebook to a Blake exhibition I went to, and Gustav Dore illustrated copies of Dante, Milton, Coleridge, Tennyson and Poe. I am a huge poetry nerd, and I think many GO fans would find a lot to interest them in some of these, particularly Blake and Milton.

I could go on, there's tons of other stuff I'd like to include but this post is fairly massive already and I wanted to try and stick to my theme.

[persevereforahappyending]

Maybe in Another Life |11|

Pairing: Clarisse La Rue x Hunter of Artemis!Reader

Summary: You are a Hunter of Artemis, but you start to question what you truly want when you meet Clarisse and get to know her.

Warnings: Slight Battle of the Labyrinth Spoilers

Word Count: 4k

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7 | ch. 8 | ch. 9 | ch. 10 | ch. 11 | ch. 12 | ch. 13 | ch. 14 | ch. 15 | ch. 16 | ch. 17

You groaned, straightening your back, and stretching, as you woke up. You felt mostly healed up, you looked over the injury on your shoulder and leg, it seemed it was all healed up, leaving only faint little scratches. “How long was I out?” You asked. Time moved differently but given how rested you were you felt you had slept a lot longer than you should have.

Clarisse was still facing the waterfall before she turned to face you. “A couple hours,” Clarisse said.

“You should have woken me for my watch.” You pulled yourself to your feet, walking a short distance to see you were no longer limping. “Want to get some rest now?”

Clarisse shook her head. “We should get moving. As nice as this place is,” she looked around. When you weren’t being chased by a giant bat creature you had to admit the place was rather gorgeous, dozens of waterfalls flowing and cascading down smooth dark grey rocks. They flowed into a darkness you didn’t want to go into, but you couldn’t deny the view. “We need to find a way out.”

“You need to be well rested,” you tried to reason.

“I’m fine,” she shrugged you off.

“If today is anything like yesterday you need to be alert, you-”

“I’ll be fine,” Clarisse snapped.

You sucked in a breath; you weren’t going to point out how cranky she clearly was. “Okay,” you surrendered. Children of Ares were so stubborn, even when you knew you were right, there were times you couldn’t bother arguing with them.

The two of you gathered your stuff and made your way out from behind the waterfall. It still looked like nighttime, light shining in from somewhere you still couldn’t find, making the water shine. Out of all the places in the world you’d been to, all the isolated, untouched by human, places, nowhere had as crystal clear of water as this place.

“Think it’s safe to drink?” Clarisse asked.

You looked at the water. It was crystal clear; you didn’t even see fish or life of any sort living in it. Though the only creature you had seen so far was the giant bat. You were also in the labyrinth; it was designed to kill. You could only shrug, maybe the water was safe, or maybe it was poison that would slowly kill the both of you if you drank it.

Clarisse shrugged. “Whatever, it’s worth the risk.” She slung her backpack around, digging through it before pulling out a water bottle. “Always be prepared.” You looked down at her with a soft smile.

“I was only meant to be gone a few hours,” you sighed, you had no idea how much time was passing in the real world, you had no idea how long you had even been in the labyrinth, it felt like hours, but it had been nonstop since you fell in there. It felt like you hadn’t drank anything in days.

“Don’t worry, I’ll share.” Clarisse gave you a teasing smirk as she held the water bottle under the waterfall, filling it up to the brim.

“A child of Ares sharing?” You gasped.

“Shut up,” she aggressively shoved the now full water bottle into your ribs.

You chuckled, taking a big gulp before handing it back to her. You waited a few seconds and when you didn’t drop dead you decided you were probably fine. The water was the most satisfying drink you had ever had. Clarisse took a gulp, then refilled the little you had drunk to top it off.

The two of you made your way around the island, looking for a good spot to climb. You could have jumped from island to island but you both decided to climb up to where the waterfall was flowing down from was probably the best bet. You weren’t sure where a door out of there could be, but the last door opened up through the floor and you dropped down onto one of the rock islands, so anything was possible.

“You got any rope in there?” You joked as you looked up the side of the cliff. You had climbed worse, though you usually had the other Hunters, Artemis, and some sort of climbing gear.

You turned, still quietly chuckling to yourself when Clarisse didn’t answer. Your mouth hung open when you saw Clarisse digging through her backpack, pulling out some rope and a hook. When she was all done, she looked up, seeming to realize you were watching her. “What?” She asked.

“Nothing, you just,” you gestured down to the rope and hook. “Really were prepared for anything.”

“Of course,” she slung her bag back over her shoulders. “You can never know what to expect on a quest.”

You nodded, that was true. You never knew what monsters you’d run into or where you’d end up on the journey. Most demigods only prepared by having the basic necessities, food, money, a weapon, and if they were really lucky a couple pieces of ambrosia. Clarisse wasn’t most demigods though, she was a child of Ares, she loved a fight, she was always prepared for a fight.

She handed you a rope and you began tying it around your waist as she did the same, then she clipped your two ropes together. Being connected was dangerous, if one of you fell you could bring the other down with you, but on the other hand if one of you fell the other could stop you from plummeting to your death. Clarisse spun the rope a few times, getting some good momentum before releasing it. You watched as it sailed up into the air, wondering if it would be long enough. It didn’t hit the top, but it did catch on a couple rocks just before the edge. Clarisse pulled on the rope tightly, then both of you did the same, using all your strength to make sure it would hold both of your weight. When the hook didn’t budge the two of you began your trek up the side of the waterfall.

The waterfall didn’t look as big before you started climbing it. There were plenty of ridges to put your feet and hands on as the two of you climbed up. You each only nearly fell once, when you got closer to the waterfall the rocks got slippery. Clarisse’s hand slipped once, leaving her hanging on with only one hand until she could regain her balance. Your foot slipped when you went to push off a rock, forcing you to claw at the rocks to maintain your grip.

When the two of you finally got to the top, pulling yourselves over the edge, you both just laid there, the only sound coming from your heavy breathing. After a moment you both pulled yourselves to your feet and got a look at your new terrain. Much like down below it was all darkness and rock, though there were no more floating islands or bridges connecting to the main one you were on.

“What’s that?” You asked, pointing at something through the darkness.

Clarisse squinted, trying to determine what it was. “I don’t know,” she said.

You both looked at each other and when you gave a little shrug, she pulled out her dagger, you pulled out your bow, and the two of you walked into the darkness. There was a slight glimmer, in the distance, you were just hoping it wasn’t another monster. When you finally got to your destination you saw it was another rock, your eyes trailed up but unlike the last cliff there was no waterfall, it looked never ending as the tip disappeared in the darkness.

“Over here,” Clarisse whispered, nodding her head to the side.

You furrowed your brow but didn’t question her as she began making her way around the side of the rock wall. Around the side was a small opening, it looked to be a cave of some sort. The only way either of you could fit was by sliding through sideways, there was no guarantee it would ever open up more, for all you knew it led to a dead end and it wasn’t actually a cave.

Clarisse unzipped her bag again, digging around until she pulled out a flashlight and a headlamp. “Preference?” She asked, holding each of them out to you.

You shrugged and took the flashlight. Clarisse nodded and strapped the headlamp around her head. “Ready?” You nodded and Clarisse squeezed through the small crack in the side of the rock wall. You gave the open cavern one last look before following after Clarisse, making sure to stick as close together as possible.

After what felt like an hour of squeezing through the tight space it finally opened up, allowing the two of you to walk properly. The rest of the passage was still narrow, meaning you and Clarisse couldn’t walk side by side. She tapped her shoulder, you instantly put your hand where she tapped, knowing what she meant. You didn’t know what lay ahead and you certainly didn’t want to get separated in a dark cave in the middle of the labyrinth.

You finally came to an open room; the walls were still all rock, but the ceiling was high. You pointed the flashlight up and the light got swallowed up by the darkness. You turned in a circle, using the flashlight to scan your surroundings. Everywhere you turned there was just more black rock. The room didn’t continue on into another tunnel and you didn’t see a way out anywhere.

“Should we turn back?” You asked. You weren’t sure how long you had been moving, it didn’t seem like you had covered much distance, but your body sure felt like you had been going nonstop for hours.

“Clarisse?” You asked, turning around when she hadn’t answered you. You saw her crouched down near the far end of the room. “What’s up?” You made your way to her side, tilting your head as you saw what she was looking at, a hint of light peeking out where the wall met the ground.

“Let’s see if this moves,” she said.

She was already jumping to her feet and feeling around the wall before you had processed what she said. You got to work, holding the flashlight in one hand while you felt around the other end of the wall with your other hand. Your head snapped to the side when you heard a low rumble. Clarisse quickly pulled her hand off a rock, taking a few steps back. You didn’t know what she did, but you followed her lead.

You watched as the part of the wall Clarisse had been standing in front of groaned, the bottom of the wall grinding against the ground as it opened up. When the grinding stopped, and the hidden door was fully open there was a blinding white light on the other side. You and Clarisse both raised your hands, trying to block the light. You squinted as best as you could trying to make out anything through the light but there was nothing.

You reached down, brushing your finger against the back of Clarisse’s hand. She turned to you; you could just barely make out her squinting at you. You gave her a nod, hoping she could see it. She took your hand in her own giving it a small squeeze, she understood. The two of you turned forward, facing the light, squinting as you both took the step forward, into the white light.

You blinked away the white spots, trying to get your eyes to adjust to the new lighting. When your vision was finally clear enough you could see you were in a long corridor. The walls were once again made out of stone, perfectly cut rectangles forming the walls. You looked to Clarisse seeing her glance around the new location as well. You looked down, quickly letting go of her hand while clearing your throat.

On the other side of the corridor, you saw a door. It was closed but it was clearly a door. You hesitantly put one foot forward. As soon as your foot crunched down on the sand it began to shift beneath you. Clarisse yanked you back as the floor rumbled and the sand parted out of the way, falling in between the cracks of the tile it was resting on. You crouched down, under the stand revealed a pathway, large stone squares with various carvings, each of them leading to the door.

“I don’t like this,” Clarisse said.

“How do you want to play this?” You asked. “There’s got to be a trick of some sort.” Your eyes darted around the room, looking for what death trap could await you if you walked forward.

Clarisse swung her backpack off her shoulder again. “Let’s see how sensitive this thing is.” She dug around in her bag until she pulled out a little blue ball. You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her. “Selina thought it would help with my anger issues,” she used finger quotes over the words anger issues, making you chuckle.

Clarisse crouched down and rolled the ball across the tiles. You were pretty sure you both held your breath as the ball rolled over the first tile and nothing happened. As soon as the ball touched the second tile the tile dropped, shooting up a burst off hot air. The both of you leaned back, feeling the heat from the air, you could smell the magma that was surely below the tiles.

“You got anymore of those?” you asked, glancing at Clarisse hopefully. She shook her head and you let out a sigh, you should have known that would make it too easy.

You stepped forward onto the first tile that you knew was safe. You leaned over, peeking down through the hole. As you suspected you could see lava flowing below, you could feel the heat from it rising. You reached into your pocket and pulled out a handful of drachmas. You sighed, you were sure Artemis wouldn’t be happy to hear about you using drachmas to test the floor, but it was either the money or your life.

You tossed one drachma to the left of the fallen tile, letting out a shaky breath when it just made a little clang and didn’t end up in the lava. You looked back at Clarisse one last time before you took a step onto the same tile. When you didn’t fall to your death into lava you knew the coin was heavy enough to work. You continued your slow movements down the hall, tossing the coin onto one of the next tiles in the next row. You hit the wrong tile and your drachma was sent into the lava plenty of times. You were hoping Artemis would understand when you didn’t return with much change.

You finally let out a sigh of relief when your feet landed safely on the other side of the tiles, where the door was. You turned back to Clarisse who was staring across the pathway, seeing the lava bubbling below. “Just step exactly where I did,” you said, keeping your voice as calm as possible.

Clarisse nodded and began making her way to you. You watched her, making sure she didn’t move for an unsafe tile. It wasn’t a straight path and some tiles required jumping to. You were sure with all the tiles it wasn’t scary but with the missing ones you were jumping across molten lava. One wrong move, one slip of your foot, and you’d be sent straight to your death.

When Clarisse was safely by your side again you looked at the door. There was an arch creating the doorway but where the door should be was a flat stone block. The two of you began feeling around the arch, hoping to unlock something, you didn’t want to walk back across the lava. When you turned around you saw the remaining tiles crumble into the lava, leaving you with nowhere to go.

You turned back around when you felt the ground begin to rumble. You looked down at your feet, watching the sand shift around, you were waiting for the ground to crack open and swallow you up. That didn’t happen though, the stone block in the doorway began to shift, fully opening and revealing the doorway.

You slowly stepped forward peeking your head through the doorway. It was another dark room, though not as dark as the cave. Clarisse reached up, pressing the button on the headlamp she was still wearing. Since she had the light Clarisse took the lead, stepping into the room. Once you were fully in the room you didn’t bother glancing back as you heard the door closing behind you.

You didn’t need Clarisse’s head lamp for long as lights above began to flicker. When the lights finally kicked on you saw you were in a normal-looking room, filled with old technology. You might have been born before all that was invented and spent all your time in the woods, but you knew the computers and control panels were incredibly outdated.

“Do you know how to use any of this?” you asked, gesturing to all the foreign technology. Even if nothing was outdated and worked perfectly there was no way you’d be able to figure it out.

“Do I look like the kind of person who sat in front of a screen all day?” Clarisse asked, giving you a deadpanned look.

You shrugged. “You judged me for never seeing a movie.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s different.” She walked to the center of the room, spinning in a circle as she got a look at everything. “This is something else.”

You took one side of the room while she took the other. You had no idea what anything was or did, but you began hitting buttons. If something turned on you weren’t sure what would happen, for all you knew it would release some giant monster. You were mindlessly hitting the buttons until you pressed a large red one. There was a loud groan, making your head snap up.

“What did you do?” Clarisse snapped, spinning around.

You turned around, opening your mouth to defend yourself but nothing came out. Your mouth was left hanging open as you heard skittering. It was like little bits of metal scraping against more metal.

You cautiously made your way to the middle of the room. You and Clarisse stood back-to-back once again, waiting for whatever was coming. You tilted your head, standing up a bit straighter when out from under one of the tables came a little metal spider. The machine scurried its way across the floor, stopping at your and Clarisse’s feet, you could almost swear it looked up at you.

“Is it going to kill us?” you whispered, sparing a glance at Clarisse.

The little metal spider moved forward, climbing up your boot slightly. Your entire body tensed up, but nothing happened. “Is that…” Clarisse trailed off. You raised an eyebrow as she stepped around the spider, crouching down to get a closer look. “Hephaestus.”

“So, it’s a friendly?”

“I would never use the words Hephaestus and friend in the same sentence,” Clarisse mumbled under her breath. “But it’s probably the thing least likely to kill us in here.”

The mechanical spider backed off your boot and began scurrying across the room again. “Where’s it going?” you looked to Clarisse. You both shrugged and followed the spider. Following a mechanical spider created by a god was sadly probably the least deadly thing you could do in the labyrinth.

The two of you followed the mechanical spider around the control panels until it stopped at the back wall. You furrowed your brow, there was no telling how long the little spider had been in the labyrinth, it was probably malfunctioning. You were about to ask for other ideas of ways out of the room when a door opened. Your eyes widened but before you could process what was happening the spider was moving again.

The two of you didn’t have anything better to do so you continued following the spider. You followed it until it led you to a long narrow passageway. You could see a singular door at the end of the passage. You took a deep breath before stepping into the hallway. About halfway to the door the entire hall began to shake and rumble.

“Run,” Clarisse whispered. “Run!”

The two of you took off down the hall, you were vaguely aware of the mechanical spider scurrying faster down the hall to the door. You did a full sprint down the hall, sparing a glance behind you to see the walls and ceiling caving in, creating a giant dust storm. You hit the door full force, Clarisse slamming into you. You both stumbled over each other as you tried to undo the latch on the door as the hallway continued to collapse. Just as the sand was beginning to blind you and send you into a coughing fit, the latch moved and you and Clarisse were tumbling through the door.

You coughed, shaking the sand from your hair. You were doubled over, your hands on your knees as you tried to regain your breath and get the sand out of your system. When you stood up, clearing your throat a few more times, you scrunched your eyebrows, spinning around in a circle at your surroundings. The first thing you noticed was the busted up mechanical spider at your feet, seeming to have been crushed by the collapsing tunnel.

“This is a weird room,” you said. You spun around again, looking up to the sky. The sun seemed to be beating down on you, you could see it and feel it. You hadn’t seen the sun since before you entered the hotel back in New York, so you weren’t sure what that meant. You were also standing in the middle of the street, surrounded by buildings.

“I know this place,” Clarisse whispered. You turned to face her, seeing her spin around as well, but instead of a look of confusion she had one of familiarity. “We’re in Arizona.”

You furrowed your brow, even more confused than before. When you turned around again you saw the door you most likely exited from. “Look,” you said, nodding to Clarisse.

Clarisse turned around, her eyes widening at the door. “That’s the symbol Annabeth told me to look for.” She stepped closer, looking the door up and down. It looked like a normal metal door at the back of a standard building, but this one had a Delta symbol glowing in the middle of it.

“Does this mean we escaped?” you asked slowly. You still weren’t sure you could believe what you were seeing.

Clarisse slowly nodded. “I think so.” She turned back to face you. “And I know where we are,” she smiled. “We’re not to far from my house.”

“You’re from Arizona?” that was the least important thing you had learned or to be going on, but you couldn’t help but smile at the new bit of information.

Clarisse looked down at the street, kicking her feet at an invisible rock. “We can go back to my place and…” when she looked up again her eyes widened.

“What?” you asked, searching Clarisse’s face for what was wrong. Clarisse was staring past you, making you turn around to see a boy about your age pacing back and forth in the street. His clothes were ripped up and caked in dirt, his hands gripped his hair tightly, shaking his head as he mumbled to himself.

“Chris,” Clarisse whispered. You looked back at Clarisse, not missing the concern and care on her face. The only Chris you knew of and that held, and significance was the boy from Camp Half-Blood, he was one of the first to go off and join Luke.

Taglist: @cxcilla @touchmyfracturedomens @luclue @manu-007s-world @death-in-love @nenas19 @mynameiskaci @danonered

[rotting--melody]

Crazy in Love . . .

Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Human!Reader

Hello everyone! Just a heads up, this is part one of a two-part fic that I was requested to do! Well, technically, I was only asked to do part 2, but I just can't pass up an opportunity to write a cringe good yandere fic! Definitely not because I couldn't figure out how to write a good one-part Yandere fic.

wc-> 2.2k (holy shit)

cw-> yandere behavior, possessive behavior, stalker behavior, not smut yet, but trust me it will be MESSY in part 2

(fic directly below the cut)

Working for the Miguel O’Hara was not what you expected it to be.

It was worse.

Ungodly hours, strict rules, and no room for error. Working for him was what you imagined being the right hand for the devil was like. Not to mention that it seemed like he had a personal vendetta against you. Whatever you did, it was never good enough -working overtime, filing his mission reports, making sure his ‘spider cave’ was spotless- nothing was enough for the man monitoring the multiverse.

And yeah, sure, the pay was good, and you did get dental and health care (he might be a monster, but he's not a villain), but god, Miguel ran you fucking ragged. Since the day you were hired, he’d been nothing but a douchebag to you.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. You’d made many great friends, the closest being Peter B, Gwen, and Hobie. You four were practically inseparable, and everyone knew it. You and Gwen were especially close, with you taking an older-sibling role in her life. Unfortunately, there was very little free time to just hang out with them while you were at the Spider-Society headquarters. For whatever reason, Miguel never let you spend longer than your (generous) ninety-minute lunch break outside of the dark little cave he called his office. And usually, that time was interrupted by none other than Mr.O’Hara himself. You knew that in being his personal secretary you’d be expected to run around and do things for him, but at this point, you felt like Andrea Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada, constantly running your ass off for an ungrateful and spectacularly moody boss. To be entirely honest, compared to Miguel O’Hara, Miranda Priestly looked like a fucking angel.

You quietly chuckled to yourself, conjuring up the image of Miguel strutting around in a pair of violently red Prada heels.

“What's so funny, Y/n?” Gwen asks, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Nothing,” you dismissed, “Just thought of something funny.” You lightly cleared your throat and took a sip from the water bottle in front of you.

A sudden beeping erupted from your pocket, and you gave a loud groan.

“Lunch break over already?” Gwen says with a small sigh.

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” you say, checking the message on your phone. Of course, it’s Miguel, probably wanting you to do something he could easily do himself. “You want to swing by my place after I get off? We could watch some cheesy flick and gossip like high-schoolers.”

Gwen excitedly nods her head, and you give her a soft smile. Giving her a parting hug, you quickly make your way back to your and Miguel's shared ‘office’. There, you’re met with the annoyingly attractive back of your boss.

“You’re late.” He grumbles.

You make a sound of exasperation. “I literally came here as soon as you called. Sorry that this place- that you designed, by the way- is built like a fucking labyrinth!” God, did he get on your nerves.

Miguel's only response is a grunt as you roll your eyes and sit down in your chair in the corner of his office. You quickly start pulling up mission logs on one monitor, and live footage of ongoing missions on the other. Your fingers fly fast across your keyboard, filling out what you’re able to on the logs, while your eyes quickly scan the many videos of Spider-people currently engaged in battle. You had always been fairly good at multitasking, so the work you did for Miguel had never been overly complicated. Truth be told. You really had no idea why he chose you for the position of his secretary. You’d think with Lyla, he’d have everything he’d ever need right at his fingertips.

After a few hours of mindless paperwork and watching battles, you decided to call it quits. Your eyes had started to burn, and your fingers were cramping. Finishing up the last few lines of what was (hopefully) your last log of the night, you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, and cracked a few bones.

"I'm leaving for the night, O'Hara. You have my number if anything happens."

Miguel didn't even so much as spare you a glance before you walked out of the room, already dialing Gwen's number.

《♡》

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you and Gwen finally said goodbye. After a long night of greasy food, bad films, and riveting workplace gossip (you would not believe how much drama happens in a place where everyone is fundamentally the same), you wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a comfortable rest on your newly cleaned sheets.

You stretched your muscles a bit, popping a few joints in your shoulders and back for a little extra relief.

You yawn slightly and absentmindedly scratched at your arm while you pick out what to wear to bed. Deciding on a simple pair of black booty shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you throw them into your bed, grab your towel, and quickly make your way into the bathroom.

After letting the water heat up for a couple seconds, you put on your favorite playlist and step in. Despite being thoroughly exhausted, your sheets are new, which means it's time to shave.

After shaving, shampooing, conditioning, and washing yourself, you step out of the shower. You towel dry your hair and then wrap the plush fabric around your body.

Making your way into your bed room, something is immediately wrong. Your instincts are telling you to run, get out, hide, but for some reason, you don't listen. You do, however, go into the top drawer of your nightstand and pull out an incredibly sharp knife (which you had stored for just this reason).

You swiftly make your way around your room, checking in the closet, under the bed, and behind the door. Nothing and no one is there.

"Maybe I'm finally going crazy for real. . ." you say to yourself, shaking your head slightly. You return the knife to it's drawer, and go to get into your pajamas.

You glace over to your bed, slightly confused.

"I could have sworn I grabbed my shorts out?"

《♡》

It's been several months since you lost your shorts, and things only seem to be getting weirder. You've been losing stuff more regularly. First your shorts, then one of your favorite jackets, then your favorite necklace, your perfume, nail polish, and most recent, your body wash (which you had just bought).

What's more, Miguel has also been acting different. Not nicer, but also not meaner. More. . . protective? But not in a good way. Your lunch break was cut from ninety minutes to fifty, and you were no longer allowed to eat in the cafeteria or common spaces.

"What the fuck do you mean I can eat lunch in the café anymore?" You angrily question Miguel.

"You're distracting the others. From now on, you'll have twenty minutes to get your food, and thirty minutes to eat. Which you will be doing in here, with me." Miguel states monotonously, not even bothering to glance at you.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes. "At this point, why don't you just put me in a cage and chain me to the desk?"

Miguel lets out a breathy chuckle, turning around to look you dead in the eyes. "Don't tempt me, pequiña."

The pit that formed in your stomach after hearing those words was most certainly not one of fear.

You get angry just thinking about that interaction. It had been a couple weeks since it was implemented, and while you had adjusted rather fast, you still didn't like it in the slightest.

Miguel has also been giving you more work, forcing you to stay later and later. You swore that if he wasn't such good eye-candy, you would have throttled him.

Speaking of eye-candy. . . You glace over to Miguel's work station to snoop. If he's going to keep you cooped up in here, you should be allowed to spy on what he's doing.

He's standing hunched over his over-the-top computer set up, watching his many screens and muttering quietly to himself. He calls Lyla up and asks her something quietly. You swear you heard your name, but you were so far away it was hard to discern anything he was saying.

You shake your head and turn back to your work.

《♡》

It was nearly midnight now, and you were still in this wretched place. You let out a loud groan and run your eyes.

“Hey, O’Hara? I'm leaving. Don't call me in tomorrow either, I need the day off.”

Your statement seems to pique Miguel's interest, as he finally moved from the position he's been standing in for hours. He turns around, leaning onto his desk and placing his hands on his incredibly tiny waste (seriously, how is that even fair??).

“Oh really?” he askes, voice laced with something you can't quite pick up on “And why is that?”

You groan again, fed up with your man-child boss.

“Because I just need a day to myself, okay? You've been working me to the bone, and I just need a massage and probably a visit to the chiropractor.” You emphasize your statement by harshly cracking your back on your chair.

He chuckles softly to himself and lightly licks his lips. “You could always ask me for help with that pequiña.”

You flush red at his statement and cough a little. Damn him for being so sexy. . .

“I uh. . . I think I'm okay. Thanks for the offer though, boss.” You can feel yourself practically sweating and you jump up from your seat and begin packing your bag.

Miguel lets out a soft hum and turns back to his computer, smiling ever so slightly.

You glace back up at your boss before you head out of the room, grabbing the little trash bag sitting in the corner of the room to dispose of on your way out. You leave with one final glace back at his broad shoulders.

The walk through Headquarters is silent. Despite being a hub for all spider folk, the halls are quiet, leaving the small click of your shoes on the tile as the only noise.

Lugging the trash bag through the halls, you reach a large dumpster and begin to haul it inside. As you swing the bag above your head, the shitty plastic gives and the contents spill out over the ground.

“Fuck! Eww that's so nasty oh my god!” You yell in disgust at the trash flies everywhere, covering you in the mysterious liquid every bag of trash seems to have.

You quickly wipe your hands off on your pants as you being to (begrudgingly) pick up the garbage from the floor. Crumpled papers, some broken cables, a couple of water bottles, a bottle of your bodywash, some rotting-

Wait.

“What the hell?”

There, sitting innocently on the ground, is a bottle of the bodywash you use. How the hell did this get here?

The bottle is mostly empty, but sloshes slightly when you pick it up, like someone has filled it with water or something in an attempt to prolong its use. You're a little creeped out.

Okay, you're a lot creeped out.

The only people who use the bin in Miguel's ‘office’ are you and him. And you certainly don't remember bringing a used bottle of soap into work to throw out.

Maybe me and Miguel just use the same soap? I mean, I'm pretty sure he lives here so. . .

A chill runs down your back as you hear a voice from the darkness.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You quickly hide the bottle behind your back as you spin around to face him.

“Miguel! Hi! Yeah, everything is okay, I just spilled the trash, sorry to bother you.” You speak fast and nervously, inching closer to the trash bin to toss the hidden bottle inside.

Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, clearly questioning your suspicious actions.

“Ah. Okay then. Do you need any help?” He asks. It feels like he's testing you.

You nervously chuckle. “Nope! I'm all good! Sorry again for bothering you, I'll be leaving now!” In one quick motion, you throw the bottle into the trash behind you and speed walk out of the building and away from your boss.

《♡》

You lay in your bed, unblinking at the ceiling. The soap had been keeping you up. You know it's probably nothing, but with all the weird shit that's been happening to you recently, everything has been putting you on edge.

You toss and turn, your mind both racing with thoughts and completely empty. You don't even realize you're falling asleep until your eyes shut, and you succumb to the darkness.

《♡》

You awake with a start, and a horrible sensation of dread courses through your entire body. You sit up in bed, blinking the sleep from your eyes and scanning your room.

You see nothing.

Until you don't.

A large, shadowy figure stands unmoving in the corner of your room. Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the darkness.

“Oh pequiña. . . I really wish you hadn't seen that earlier. . .”

TO BE CONTINUED‼️‼️

[defectivevillain]

these jagged scars

[ao3 version here] (now accessible to both registered users and guests)

[spotify playlist]

Act One summary:

That familiar analytical gleam in your eyes lives in Hannibal’s mind as he sinks his teeth into his prey. Despite your departure hours ago, Hannibal sees you sitting across from him at the table. Dining alone has never bothered him; yet, right now, he can’t help but desire your company—your scintillating conversation, your sharp wit, your clever smirk. Indeed, his table feels uncharacteristically empty. Hannibal stares at the chair across from him—the same chair he’s grown accustomed to seeing you sit at—and takes another bite. Flavor explodes on his tongue, yet you are what dominates his thoughts. 

Your experience in criminal profiling means that you've met a wide variety of people from all different walks of life. You've stared down hardened criminals and fought for your life against people hellbent on killing you. Even so, something about the FBI's new target, the Chesapeake Ripper, seems to elude you.

Then you meet Hannibal Lecter: an enigmatic jigsaw of a man with jagged corners and misshapen pieces.

Fortunately, you've always been rather good at puzzles.

this broken design | 16/16 chapters | 64k words

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Act Two summary:

You wish you never met Hannibal Lecter. But you yearn for his presence.  You want to forget him. But he never truly leaves your thoughts.  Now, you’re left to pick up the pieces of a broken design. A battle of instincts rages on in your mind—one of bittersweet relief and cloying grief, fearless resolve and poignant regret; a clashing between affection and antipathy, pride and pain. What will win, in the end? Only time will tell. 

this winding labyrinth | 11/? chapters | 50k words

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

comment down below if you'd like to be added/removed from this work's taglist. the taglist allows you to get notifications whenever I post a new chapter of this work.

[allgirlsareprincesses]

Love At First Sight (2023)

Okay, we’re going to talk about the new Netflix romance directed by Vanessa Caswill, Love At First Sight, because I’m seeing almost no chatter about it and that cannot stand. Full disclosure, I’ve never read the book on which this movie is based, The Statistical Probability of Love at First Sight, so I’m reacting only to the film (which I’ve now seen 4.5 times in 2 days).

The Surface Reading

It’s a perfect, tight, adorable little RomCom that’s heavy on the Rom and light on the Com, with a wrenching dash of angst and the most hair-twirling chemistry between two leads that has graced our screens in years. Truly, if all you want is 90 minutes of two actors being saccharine precious cinnamon rolls, look no further!

There are simple takeaways here, like that chance can only take you so far, but in the end you have to choose to love. Or that change and loss are part of life and you can’t run from them. Or that London is a massive labyrinth of eccentric people that probably looks 400% cooler onscreen than it is in reality (I wouldn’t know, I’ve never visited, so this and the 90s Parent Trap are the extent of my knowledge about the city, sorry).

Anyway, I adored how straightforward the story was - that the narrator (played brilliantly by Jameela Jamil) tells you directly in the first two minutes that it’s a story about love, fate, and statistics. She then repeatedly describes every development as it is happening, the characters’ histories and internal monologues, and all the context you need to follow the thin but fast-paced plot. The writing, performances, and production design are all solid, allowing the audience to get lost in the romance as it unfolds.

BUT if you’re slightly unhinged like I am and you’re always looking for more layers in your media, HAVE NO FEAR! There is in fact more going on in this little movie than you might expect.

Color Theory

For starters, the use of red and green in the film is fascinating. Yes, I realize the action of the story takes place a few days before Christmas, so you might assume it was just a seasonal aesthetic choice, but if you look closer, you can see very carefully selected shades of red and green repeating throughout the film. The red is a cool, deep rose color, sometimes pink, while the green is cool and dark, like oxidized bronze rather than emerald. Further, while they appear over and over, these hues are rarely used in a purely decorative or festive way. Instead, they play a role in the separation and coming together of the couple. On a color wheel, red and green are complements, perfect opposites that are never adjacent but always joined in the middle.

The title card during Hadley’s introduction is literally a green stripe over a red stripe, then the hallways of the airport are green, and of course Hadley’s ever-important backpack is a rosy red. As the couple grow closer on their flight, the light turns pink. Once in London, a green van takes Oliver one way while a red taxi takes Hadley the other. At her father’s wedding, Hadley is dressed in red (“the color of a bruise” she calls it), contrasting beautifully against her green jacket. Upon realizing Oliver’s true purpose, she chases after him on an iconic red double-decker bus. Meanwhile at the living memorial, Oliver’s father is dressed in red while his mother wears a faded green, as if to say she is already beginning to fade away. The event is decorated with green drapery and streamers, and there are even stacks of red and green chairs in the stairwell where Oliver begs his mother to receive treatment.

Hadley gifts her red and green bouquet to Tessa, and when she is driven away, a green-clad narrator returns the red backpack to Oliver. Wandering London alone, Hadley exchanges her painful red heels for a pair of green trainers (“sneakers!” she insists), and tries to call her dad first in a red phone booth and then on a phone from a stranger sitting in a cluster of red chairs. Finally, Oliver chooses to pursue Hadley to the wedding reception which is lit in pink, and where they finally share the long-awaited kiss.

There are many more examples, but in general we see that green indicates separation and loss, while red symbolizes joining, intimacy, and (what else?) love! It lends the film a gorgeous, subtle aesthetic without being garishly festive, and shows the lovers’ emotional journey from lonely childhood to vulnerable, loving adulthood.

Death and Rebirth

Speaking of which, there’s plenty of rebirth imagery too! When Hadley and Oliver meet, they are both still children, struggling with the impending loss of parental security through divorce and death. Thus, when they board the plane, it is as if they enter an underworld or womb, separated from their families and remade as new adults. They emerge on the other side into a hallway (read: birth canal), as each must still confront their own dying childhood before they can join as full and equal partners. Hadley journeys to a bright, red-strewn celebration of life, while Oliver must enter a dark green commemoration of death, his fear driving him deeper to hide in another hallway. Here his mother comes to find him, begging him to emerge into life, but Ollie still can’t confront her death alone.

Thankfully, Hadley travels to this underworld to find him, bursting into the memorial like a bright red flower. Even the bruise metaphor works, acknowledging the pain they are both experiencing at the changes in their lives. But Oliver still refuses to face his fears, trying to take a shortcut around death to life with Hadley. Still, she knows he’s not ready (likely because she’s not yet, either), and gently pushes back. And so, Oliver returns to the underworld, and Hadley walks off alone until she descends barefoot through a soggy riverside tunnel (birth canal again!). Finally, she calls her father and admits she is “lost.” When he arrives, Hadley at last gathers the courage to ask why he ended their old life, and to tell him how much it hurt her. But as Oliver predicted, she forgives her dad and even begins to accept his new bride.

Back at the memorial, Oliver is reminded by Hadley’s red backpack - his unaddressed emotional baggage - to be honest about his pain. In at last openly mourning his mother and his own childhood, Ollie takes a step into adulthood, just enough for his family to nudge him that extra bit to go after Hadley. And so, the family delivers him to his bride, who has meanwhile learned to dance again, even through her heartbreak. With one last confession, the two consummate their love with a kiss, bathed in pink light before an open door.

Happily Ever After

There’s so much more, with the hand-holding, numbers, Shakespeare, Dickens, the music, and beyond, but the point is that this cute, charming little romance is actually very deliberately constructed. It follows timeless patterns and motifs which we instinctively understand through visual and auditory language. And the narration plays a huge role in this as well, not unlike the prologues and epilogues of the Bard’s plays in that they state the story’s lessons plainly: that we cannot always be prepared for unwelcome surprises, but that we can make the choice to love every day.

Anyway, Vanessa Caswill deserves all the flowers and if you haven’t seen her gorgeous adaptation of Little Women (with all due respect to the marvelous Greta Gerwig and Gillian Armstrong), please do yourself a favor and watch that after you finish this!

[somegirlontheinternet135]

🩷✨Rewrite!Yui Headcanons✨🩷

(tw: Dark topics will be discussed)

🩷 Yui was extremely malnourished, and for many reasons. Firstly, due to living with thirsty vampires, they dictated everything she ate so that she could keep them supplied with good blood, which meant absolutely no sweets or junk food. Another reason was that she stopped eating all together as an act of defiance; after so many years of those parasites feeding off her blood, she'd grown sick & tired of it, refusing to eat as a form of rebelling, which usually led to punishment. But now that she's safe within the Glass Labyrinth, she's free to eat as much as she wants, whatever she wants. Which turned her into a massive foodie, excited to try new & different foods

🩷 If it wasn't already obvious, she is very self-conscious about her body, as it is a war-zone of past inflictions done by her abusers, bruises & scars that never healed, cuts & scrapes that still remain, and vampire bites almost cleverly hidden on her very freckled body. She was fed the unhealthy idea that she wouldn't be considered "beautiful" or "ladylike" if she had such things on her body, so she tries her best to cover them up

🩷 But despite the issues, Yui still tries to dress feminine. Which wouldn't be a problem if half her life wasn't centered around men. Whether she did it by choice or by sheer force, everything she wore had to appeal to them, in more ways than one. . . Now in the labyrinth, she can wear whatever she wants, but her taste in fashion hasn't seen to change, still wearing short dresses & skirts, any basically everything pink and girly. Because of this, she's extremely good with fashion, and is able to give great advice on fixing one's appearance. She's also good with make up for the same reasons

🩷 Yui tries to pull her weight around the Glass Labyrinth, making herself useful for the other inhabitants, though she & the others don't require rent to stay. In her eyes, she doesn't have many skills; but if there were three things she considers herself good at, it's cleaning, fashion, and makeup. She loves to clean & organize, and can't stand a mess, so she started doing cleaning services around the Kame Isles. She also offers to help with clothing, and doing make up during big events for a lot of the girls in the labyrinth

🩷 If anyone read the "Diabolik Lovers: The Glass Labyrinth pt. 2," you'd know that Yui crazy about mythology & its creatures due to her past. Because of this, she can easily identify any mythical creature with the labyrinth, and knows their likes & dislike as species

🩷 On the topic of mythic creatures, she's taken quite a liking to the horror genre, enjoying reading horror novels and often watching scary movies with her friends

🩷 As sad as it was, Yui would sometimes forget that she's free from the parasites due to episodes of anxiety & trauma. She has to be reminded by others that she's safe now, and can make her own decisions

🩷 Recently, Yui had been learning all sorts of self defense classes in the Glass Labyrinth & takes extra precautions when going out on top of learning magic, carrying pepper spray or a taser on her at all times. She was already taken advantage of so many times in her teenage years, she's not going to have it happen again

🩷 Everyday, Yui is getting a little bit stronger, and the head mistresses couldn't be more proud of her!✨

And that's all folks!

Be on the lookout for my other projects

And as always stay tuned^^

[yukiwhitetm]

5 Tim Drake-centric Must Reads

I like Tim Drake-centric fanfictions for two main reasons, although Dick Grayson is actually my favourite Robin. Firstly, Tim reminds me a lot of Peter Parker (a genius, photographer, teenage superhero with a billionaire superhero mentor who is also a father-figure to them), who is probably my favourite superhero of all time. Secondly, the big thing I love about the Batman fandom is the Bat Family (aka BatFam). I adore the sibling relationship between the characters, always just want to them be close brothers/sisters. That is why my Batman fic recommendations are Tim Drake-centric. Because during and after Tim's time as Robin we have a larger BatFam. It's the family element.

1.

A Meditation on Railroading by eggmacguffin

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types  

Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen, Complete Work

13 Jan 2022

Tags:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne

Tim Drake, Jack Drake, Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne

Bad Parent Jack Drake, Child Abuse, Trains, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Crying, Gaslighting, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Family

Summary:

When he ends up ditched in Atlanta after a fight with his dad, Tim decides to do the only sensible thing: Tell no one and make the 800 mile journey back to Gotham on his own.

Because the "call Batman when you're in trouble" rule only applies when he's Robin, right?

Language: English Words: 24,696 Chapters: 5/5

Yuki Note:

If you only ever read two Batman fanfictions, then let this be the second one (The Long Way Home being the first). This is an excellent representation of gaslighting, manipulation and mental and emotional child abuse (by Jack Drake to Tim Drake) and how it can effect an adolescent child. This is such a brilliant fanfiction – highly recommended!

2.

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie

Fandoms:Batman - All Media Types, Batman (Comics)  

Not Rated, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gen, Complete Work

25 Jun 2023

Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne

Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Batfamily Members

Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Reconciliation, Hurt/Comfort, Lazarus Pit Madness (not current. Mentioned in the past)

Summary:

With Jason tentatively back in the Batfamily, things are going pretty well for him--except for the whole thing with Tim. But who gives a shit about Tim Drake?

But when Jason and Tim are pulled into a frightening race for their lives inside a labyrinth that's out to kill them, they may have to look past their differences just to stay alive. Maybe along the way, they'll discover they aren't as different as they thought, and family comes in many different forms.

Language: English Words: 111,685 Chapters: 13/13

Yuki Note:

This is one of the best fanfictions I have ever read. This is written so well that it could be a published novel. However, before reading this please be aware of the horror elements throughout the story as well as the canon typical injuries, near death experiences and past mentioned child abuse in here (not by Bruce). If you only ever read one Batman fanfiction, then let it be this one.

3.

Scientific Method by vogon_poet

Fandoms: DCU, Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling  

General Audiences, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gen, Complete Work

04 Jul 2021

Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Hermione Granger, Tim Drake & Severus Snape, Tim Drake & Fred & George Weasley, Tim Drake & Tom Riddle

Tim Drake, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts cast, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tom Riddle

Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, BAMF Tim Drake, Tim Drake is a Wizard, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Jack and Janet Drake's A+ Parenting, Slytherin Tim Drake, Everyone from Gotham is lowkey scary, Magical Theory, Bigotry & Prejudice, Tim Drake Gets a Hug, Tim Drake looks like a cinammon roll and is a cinammon roll, but will hurt you if you're racist, Activist Hermione Granger

Summary:

It’s not like he’s surprised a magic school exists— that’s probably only a seven on the scale of “crazy things Tim Drake has seen”. No, Tim’s just surprised he’s enrolled.

Part 1 of Scientific Method

Language: English Words: 133,507 Chapters: 46/46

Yuki Note:

A really fun read! Ever wanted a brilliantly clever and magical Tim Drake who is also able to see the future? Well, then this one is for you! This story covers Tim’s first and second year (he skips a year so if I recall correctly he skips to third year after his first year) and is a Fix It Fic for A Death In The Family. There is also a sequel fic in the works. Recommended!

4.

cards on the table by wesslan

Fandoms:Batman - All Media Types  

Not Rated, Choose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Gen, Complete Work

10 Jan 2024

Tags:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake

Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Alfred Pennyworth

Not Canon Compliant, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Tim Drake is Not a Batfamily Member, Fortune Telling, Tarot, Found Family, Tim Drake-centric, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Doesn't he always, tim is a fortune teller, Tim Drake Joins the Batfamily Late, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Divination, tim drake is a hustler, author saw ghost (1990) and somehow here we are???, Absent Parents, Stalker Tim Drake, Underage Drinking, Stephanie Brown Appreciation, Murder and violence, just a little bit, Hypothermia, Light Angst, Lies, like so much lying, Unreliable Narrator

Summary:

Tim's parents faked their deaths and fled the country years ago, but neglected to take him with them. He spent some time on the streets, and now at 16, he makes a living as a fortune teller, stalking and hustling the shit out of Gotham's elite by telling them eerily accurate fortunes based on the information he gathers about them.

His life is peculiar but he wouldn't change a thing. When he gets booked for the big Wayne Halloween party, however, he finds himself getting all tangled up with the Waynes, and the more fortunes he tells, the tighter the snare becomes.

or: Tim just wanted to scam Gotham's elite, not end up on the Batfamily's watchlist. But it seems they just won't leave him alone..

Language: English Words: 69,788 Chapters: 30/30

Yuki Note:

This has been on a lot of BatFam rec lists lately and for good reason! This is a fantastic read, a very fun and smart idea of how Tim could join the BatFam late. I really like that this Tim is a bit more down and out whilst still remaining quintessentially him (I just think it’s great that he and Jason and Steph have more to relate to one another to). I am here for all the sibling content so I love this! Highly recommended!

OK. I am disabled and am becoming very fatigued so I’m only going to recommend one more in this post, however I have a full list of 72 Batman fandom recommendations on my AO3 account here. (Please note that three of these are JayTim, however that is under the caveat that they are set in AUs where they were never adopted brothers and are great fanfictions.)

5.

The Ruination Of Responsibility by Moxibustion (RyuuzaKochou)

Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)  

Teen And Up Audiences, No Archive Warnings Apply, Gen, Complete Work

26 Apr 2020

Tags:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Barbara Gordon

Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Kon-El | Conner Kent, Alfred Pennyworth, Barbara Gordon

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Past Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Pre-Tim Drake/Jason Todd, If You Squint - Freeform, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Jason Todd, Reconciliation, Extravaganza Week At The Wayne Manor, Female Tim Drake, TW: Mention Of An Offscreen Past Sexual Assault, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Non-Linear Narrative, Hurt Tim Drake

Summary:

It's Extravaganza Week at the Manor. Anything you want, anything you can dream of, as long as it's fun, fun, fun!

Timianna Drake has a somewhat fabulously complicated relationship with fun.

Language: English Words: 89,433 Chapters: 23/23

Bookmarker's Tags: Minor Character Death, Suicide

Yuki Note (from original bookmark):

I was hesitant when I went into this story, mostly because of the gender change for Tim/Timi. I am not against gender changes in stories but I find they need a point, a purpose, a reason for the change. But there is a point to Timi being a woman in this story, as it deals with the challenges, discrimination and sexism that she has to deal with in the corporate and hero world.

I really enjoyed the corporate storyline since few stories actually deal with Timi's work and the challenges therein. The family storyline is great too and I love how everything comes to a head and forces Bruce and Dick to face their failures and finally, finally do something about them. Highly recommended!

P.S. Don't worry about the Pre-Jason/Tim tag on this story. There is literally no Jason/Tim at all, in fact they don't even interact any more than Tim interacts with Cass, Steph or Dick. This is 100% Jason&Tim, a close sibling bond.

Trigger Warning: This is presently not tagged on the story but should be. It is mentioned that a minor recurring character commits suicide in the story. You don't see it, it is only mentioned. To those who find suicide triggering, be aware of this.

Enjoy! And feel free to explore my full AO3 rec list here.

[valewritessss]

Reasons why people hate Annabeth Chase and why I disagree. Warning: this a very long rant and some of these might be a little controversial

1. Annabeth didn’t have any trauma as a child compared to Percy she was only being dramatic.

Does being attacked by hundreds of spiders and waking up in webs every night sound pleasant to you? With nobody believing her because they would go away?

Whenever they say she didn’t suffer at home there are always some underlying tones of them thinking abuse isn’t abuse if it isn’t physical, and then translating that into Annabeth having a good childhood and making things up.

Why would she want to have a bad childhood is my question? And true it may seem like it wasn’t so bad since Percy even said it didn’t seem like it was as bad as she described it upon first meeting her parents, but I don’t even agree with Percy thinking that because why would he, of all people, not understand that people can hide behind nice faces? I honestly think that part was on Rick because he’s kind of gone back and forth with Annabeth’s home situation so it’s a little confusing.

But back to why would she want to have a bad childhood I think those people are the kind that compare trauma and thinkhaving more trauma=being better. But last time I checked, having a bad home situation/childhood isn’t really something people should want for themselves.

Annabeth may have not been physically abused but being accused of playing tricks to make webs appear on her skin instead of being comforted, being reprimanded for accidentally scaring her brothers even though she was the one being attacked, being blamed for attracting monsters even though she can’t control it, that doesn’t like like a happy time to me.

2. Annabeth is possessive of Percy too much she gets jealous way too easily.

Jealousy isn’t really a bad thing unless it is toxic, and I’ve seen no signs of Annabeth’s jealousy being toxic. Her haters, however, probably say otherwise.

The first time we see her get jealous is when Rachel shows up, and if I’m going to be completely honest why shouldn’t she be a little jealous? When she first sees Rachel it’s when Percy and her were supposed to go to the movies and she’s 14 years old so she’s going to act a little petty. Sorry, a traumatized 14 year old girl isn’t exactly going to handle her emotions like a mature adult. Annabeth has her little “was it hard?” moment and it was pretty obvious it was supposed to come off as funny and many people do think it was. If you didn’t think it was funny that’s fine and it’s also fine if you think it was wrong. But toxic? Really?

The next time we see her get jealous is when Percy comes back from Ogygia and she hugs him and storms off. Her best friends just died for two weeks but suddenly came back I think it’s understandable why she would be a little overwhelmed. Chiron says that she’s jealous because she knows where he was. She never really brings it up but she probably had some internal jealousy because why wouldn’t she be jealous when Percy could have chosen to live a peaceful life in Ogygia with Calypso, war-free. But he didn’t, and she didn’t bring it up(I think). Safe to say she was definitely not being toxic here.

The most prominent time she was jealous is when Percy says they need Rachel for the labyrinth and again, why wouldn’t she be jealous? It’s HER quest, and she was already insecure about Percy leaving her for Rachel so him telling her they need her for her quest is obviously going to make her mad. And she did act pettily towards Rachel and she did get ticked off very easily but let’s not forget where this all stems from.

Her entire life people have been abandoned her and left her for other people. Her dad, Thalia, Luke, and now she meets a mortal girl that has her best friend and crush’s attention which to her means she could potentially take Percy from her. Yeah, no shit she’s gonna be jealous. And it’s also a normal teenage emotion to be jealous of another person. So sorry, if a teenage girl doesn’t handle her emotions maturely.

Then, Percy reasonably spends his “last” summer away from camp and unfortunately for annabeth, with Rachel. This is not me saying Percy or Rachel did anything wrong but neither did Annabeth in being mad at him. It was mostly that she was just heartbroken because she was about to lose him, but he chose to spend his last moments being normal, something she could never be. She also spent most of her life being abandoned by someone so this was like it was happening all over again.

I’ve seen someone say she was jealous of Hazel and it was possessive because she automatically assumed Percy and her had something. Huh???? She thought of the possibility for 3 seconds and then was like, nah, she’s dating the other guy next to Percy. And it was a possibility because she saw Jason, who had lost his memories and didn’t know if he had someone waiting for him, get together with Piper so who’s to say it couldn’t have happened with Percy?

None of these seem toxic to me and it’s fine if you don’t like it for your relationship but clearly, Percy doesn’t think much about her jealousy afterwards once they got together. In fact, Percy gets jealous a lot too he’s just not as expressive about it.

3. She physically abused Percy.

This seems to be a popular one and people love to use it out of context. Annabeth and Percy both have sparring and fighting history together, so naturally they’re not going to be the gentlest of people with each other. They know how to punch, hit, and shove each other so that it doesn’t hurt since they train together. And while it is mostly annabeth that does it, Percy has never said it hurts or that he doesn’t like it. And last time I checked, he’s pretty good at calling people and gods out on their shit. If he had an issue with it he would say it.

An example of the abuse they are referring to is the judo flip. The context for this is that Percy went missing for months and Annabeth being overwhelmed, relieved, and just emotional decides to judo flip him upon reuniting with him. What a lot of people forget to mention is that right after, while he is being pinned down by Annabeth, he laughs. He laughs and they all move on. Judo flips, according to my research, are not supposed to hurt. They only hurt if they are done wrong. There is a chance my research is wrong so if anyone wants to correct me go ahead. But assuming it is right, the judo flip Annabeth did to Percy probably didn’t hurt nor was it meant to.

And Percy has experienced physical abuse before, and he hated the man that did it. He most likely would not get into a relationship with someone who does that. And he has called Annabeth out on things before, he had no trouble getting mad at her in botl, so if he seriously didn’t like it he would most likely say something.

Again, if you don’t want that in your relationship that’s great, YOU should set those boundaries with YOUR partner. But you can’t speak for a fictional character that clearly doesn’t have any issues with the way his partner treats him.

4. Annabeth makes jokes at the expense of Percy and makes him feel dumb.

There are some times when she does make jokes about Percy to his face, and he either laughs or doesn’t care. The books are from his pov, it’s not hard to see how it doesn’t bother him.

The nickname “Seaweed Brain” was her teasing him at first but it then became endearing for the both of them. This was the same for the nickname “Wise Girl”. Percy even likes the nickname and he has never said it makes him feel belittled or dumbed down.

I think where this stems from is people who think giving Annabeth credit is discrediting him. Someone mentions how she helped Percy with something and they will go on about how Percy isn't dumb and it's like we know he isn't dumb, no one said he is. Giving her credit isn’t taking credit away from him and many people need to hear that. Someone will mention how Annabeth will teach Percy something that he wouldn't have figured out on his own and oh my god people go feral. "Annabeth held up the sky" they translate that to Percy didn't do shit. Someone will say Annabeth is one of the smartest and they think that means they're saying Percy is stupid. Sorry that a girl being smart makes you insecure? Because that’s what I’m getting from that take. Percy is smart too but taking that away from Annabeth to give it to him isn’t exactly how that works. Life isn’t a competition, you don’t constantly have to be ranking people. There’s enough smartness for everyone. No one is taking anything away from Percy by admitting she is super smart or by giving her credit for stuff she did!!

You don’t hear people saying Annabeth can’t swim because Percy can control water, so why do people think people are saying Percy is dumb because Annabeth is incredibly smart? Annabeth knows she is smart, and she herself says Percy is smart TWICE, not that because she is smart that Percy is dumb. She is smart, and that takes nothing away from Percy and vice versa. They both think differently and do different things while in combat you just can’t compare those. Intelligence doesn’t just come in one form and admitting one is smart doesn’t make the other not smart. Say it with me, Annabeth is smart, Percy is smart, those things can both be true at the same time. Annabeth can be credited for things and that does not discredit Percy. For the people who say it makes Percy insecure that Annabeth shows her intelligence I promise you when Annabeth says something nerdy it doesn’t hurt Percy’s feelings.

It is true that Percy’s intelligence is overlooked, that is an issue. But you don’t have to bring someone else down to build him up okay there’s many great moments showing his intelligence use those instead. Also because if you have to bring someone else down to make your fav seem better you’re not doing your fav any favors it makes them look like someone needs to come down to their level and that’s not what’s happening with Percy. Don’t do him dirty like that he can be smart on his own you don’t have to mention Annabeth.

Sorry I kind of got off topic I just saw a chance to address an issue I’ve seen where people think giving Annabeth credit is taking away from Percy. This sometimes happens the other way around but it’s mostly the people who do this that hate her.

5. Annabeth defended Luke and it was inconsiderate of her since he tried to kill Percy.

She didn’t really defend him she just said there’s still good in him. And I mean this did make Percy mad. He was mad at her for even mentioning Luke because he was jealous, and because he didn’t understand how she could still think there’s good in him after all he did. And that’s valid. But that doesn’t mean it’s “a heartbreaking realization for a Percy that Annabeth chooses Luke over him” in the words of someone who used this argument, when she said there’s still good in him. Annabeth was betrayed by Luke too, and say what you want about her holding hope but it makes sense that she still sees good in him. I mean, that’s the guy who she views as a hero, who was a hero to her. And in the end her holding onto that hope is what broke Luke’s trance and he decided to stab himself. So if you found it annoying that she believed in him that makes sense, but don’t pretend you can’t understand why she did it.

6. Annabeth was a bitch to Rachel and is not a girls girl.

Honestly, was she nice to Rachel? No. Did Rachel deserve Annabeth’s comments? No. Is Annabeth valid? Yeah. I’m not justifying her behavior but I am justifying her reasoning because it is so obvious it went beyond jealousy.

Rachel not doing anything wrong and Annabeth being valid can co-exist. Seeing Annabeth’s perspective of this is so easy we just have to think about how the person she loves might pick someone normal over her since she can’t be normal. On his last summer too. This wasn’t just “jealous girl is mean to other girl” trope it was showing how deeply Annabeth cherishes Percy and how when she sees him picking someone else over her she is going to not be nice.

Should she have said those things to Rachel, um probably not. But she is a teenager also and it’s super normal for a teenager to get jealous and bratty when her crush and best friend spend time with a girl that also has a crush on him. It wasn’t Annabeth’s finest moment but it was entertaining and personally I thought it was funny. I swear a lot of people act as if she grabbed Rachel by her hair and smashed her against a wall but it was just some catty remarks. And a lot of people forget that Rachel and Annabeth are friends now, they like each other, they forgave each other.

And on her not being a girls girl? I think some people need to touch some grass because why should she have been a girls girl at that moment? Was she supposed to tell Rachel to go for it? I understand wanting her to just leave Rachel alone but after Rachel had to lead HER quest I’m not sure what they were expecting. She made up for it anyway when she saved Rachel from a helicopter despite still disliking her.

7. Annabeth got scared of Percy which made him feel like he deserved to die.

I’m pretty sure I’ve written about this before but I guess I’ll go over it again. Her boyfriend did something scary, that probably reminded her of Luke since they both went too far, so she got scared. God forbid scary things scare her.

And secondly, did Percy ever tell Annabeth he was having those thoughts? No. Stop blaming her for everything this time she is actually 110% innocent.

8. She is powerless and therefore she is useless.

She doesn’t have any unnatural powers but being crazy smart sounds pretty useful to me. Bonus points because she’s good at many kinds of combat too.

If they think they don’t need her fine, but they did in fact need her so we’re never gonna know the other possibility.

Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes.

This doesn’t mean the other demigods don’t have wisdom but like it’s Annabeth Chase wisdom is kind of her thing.

Anyways, I kind of got tired of writing this and I can’t think of anything else so I’m gonna end it here. I hope this doesn’t come off as hate to any other character, because it’s not, nor do I see how it could be but people will find a way so this is clarification. People can hate whatever character they want to hate but these reasons are not really much sense. And if they expect people to hate her for these reasons too even less sense. And people are allowed to hate her, but they love to talk about it so much it’s like an obsession.

And to those who told me to tag them I hope this wasn’t a waste of your time because I tried and it took me forever😅

@annabethmyfave

@illneverforget365

[enhadiares]

“GAME OVER”

Chapter 2 | The beginning

👾A/N: I finally posted another chapter. I am just super busy these days so it's hard to post but hopefully I'll be more active . Hope you guys enjoy it!

👾Pairing: enhypen x fem!reader

👾Warning: This is all fictional!

👾Synopsis: Bound within the confines of a virtual realm, a group of friends must decipher its mysteries to secure their freedom. Amidst the labyrinth of challenges, they encounter a formidable adversary - a lurking shadow who controls their fate. As alliances fracture and betrayals unfold, they must confront not only the puzzles of the game but also the sinister presence that seeks to keep them imprisoned. Only by overcoming both external threats and internal conflicts can they hope to break free from the shadows within the game

Previously on the latest episode of "Game Over,"

"Why the crankiness, woman? I called because we're considering checking out the new arcade that recently opened" Jungwon, the young man, explains.

"A new arcade? Count me in!" you reply eagerly, rising from your seat with excitement finally brewing. You've always adored arcades and never shy away from expressing it.

"All the players are assembled," they declare with a hint of mischief.

Let the game begin.

Currently as the scene unfolds, you find yourselves amidst the excitement of a group outing. You eagerly rushed towards the waiting car, exclaiming, "Let's go, come on guys!" Your enthusiasm is met with a chuckle from Jungwon, who remarks on your boundless excitement. “Could one be anymore excited?”

As Banter ensues , you playfully assert your right to excitement, claiming, "Hey, I'm just a girl, let me be," accompanied by a mock pout.

Meanwhile, a lighthearted debate erupted among the younger members of your friend circle over seating arrangements, with you swiftly intervening to claim the coveted passenger seat. With a regal air, you declare something - "I am the passenger princess , Move peasants!" playfully nudging your friends aside.

Amidst the jovial atmosphere, Jay, the designated driver, warmly welcomes you all aboard.

The dynamic within your friend group is highlighted as the younger members assert their dominance over the front seats, leaving the older members relegated to the back. Born to be the passenger princess forced to sit in the back - as they quote to which you laughed heartedly.

Despite the playful banter, there's an underlying sense of belonging within the group, evident in your sentiment of finding security and warmth in their company and so they feel like a family to you.

As the journey progresses, anticipation builds as you approach your destination, -the arcade. It felt like an eternity with all the excitement even tho it was just a mere 10 minute drive.

Upon arrival, You are captivated by the futuristic ambiance, marveling at the technological architecture surrounding you. Your mouth is wide open while your jaw in on the floor while you admire the interior of the arcade.

It made you wonder just how intellectually capable some people are to even come up with all this without Google , how is that possible?

Amidst everyone's musings, Niki's exuberant declaration interrupts, expressing his desire to live in the arcade.

“This feels so unreal , I want to stay here for my whole life”

Continuing with a joke of trading his mates for a stay in the arcade which resulted in him getting couple of side eyes.

United in your excitement, you and the group embark on a gaming spree, immersing yourselves in various arcade activities.

From air hockey to basketball hoop games, each member finds their niche amidst the sea of entertainment. However, your attention is soon drawn to a new attraction pointed by the youngest.

Niki calls out for everyone who then rush towards him.

You were on the verge of winning a plushie by the rigged claw machine when the impatient Niki decided to shake you from your shoulders to show his excitement and anticipation for what he was about to show . It panicked you because you almost lost to the claw machine so you glare at him and exclaim with a sarcastic grin

“You're lucky I didn't drop it , or else you would be another toy in the claw machine”

After that you turn back and go to the surrounded spot where everyone else is present followed by Niki.

Upon your arrival you notice a game titled "Deal or No Deal," which was unlike any other arcade game , might be exclusive to this specific arcade.

“I haven't seen any game like this ever in any arcade” you exclaimed astonished.

“Lets play this game together then and let's find out !” stated Niki

“Yeah we have nothing to loose , let's check it out!” it was an excited jake

“It says Press start!” Jungwon saw the text flah in the screen .

“Wait guy's we can't start the game without entering a coin but our coins don't go in.” Jay who was looking at how to start the game explained what he observed.

3rd Person POV

Intrigued by the novelty of the game, the friend group sets out to uncover its mysteries, only to be met with a challenge – the game requires a specific coin to operate.

“I'll go ask the guy at the counter , Jungwon come with me.” Undeterred, Heeseung and Jungwon take it upon themselves to seek assistance from the arcade staff, setting off on a quest for information.

Upon reaching the counter , both the guys were met with a man with the arcade merch. His tshirt , pant cap and the mask everything promoting the arcade . He looked like a staff member so they gave eachother knowing looks and decided to ask him about the new game.

“Hey we were playing in here when we found the game - “Deal or No deal” and we haven't seen it anywhere else so we don't know how to work it out , can you assist us?” The elder guy said.

The man who was presumably the staff looked at them with dark and mischievous glint in his eyes for a split second before switching to a more sweeter and polite one.

“Oh yes! It's a new addition to all the arcade games and can only be found in our arcade! It works with a specific coin and the rest would be explained in the game itself. Here's the coin - it's free since you are the first people playing it.” The staff explained and handed them the coin .

Their encounter with the staff unveils a mix of intrigue and anticipation, as they are handed the elusive coin, unaware of the costs that lie ahead.

Returning to their eager friends, they share the newfound knowledge, paving the way for an exciting adventure into the unknown realms of the arcade.

And so without any hesitation Niki pressed the red button glaring at him as if taunting him to start the game if he is daring enough .

[blues824]

Can we get the TWST dormleaders with an S/O that is a FBI agent for the BAU? I enjoyed reading the one with the Obey Me brothers!

My search history looks like I’m committing every single crime to every single degree. But, this fic is a victory for Yuu/YN/Mc, and you’ll see why.

Riddle Rosehearts

He is definitely intrigued, since you don’t seem phased by your chosen profession. You’ve been faced with actual serial killers to try and find the motive as to why they did what they did, and you don’t seem to be affected mentally or emotionally.

What freaked him out was during a small date between the two of you in the labyrinth. You both were taking a small break for tea, when you told him that one of the leading reasons for homicide was because the perpetrator had suffered through too much abuse. 

That’s when he realized that he might want to consider therapy, since he is one step away from actually killing someone. After living with his mother for the 17 years of his life, he doesn’t want to risk hurting you because of a psychotic break.

Leona Kingscholar

He didn’t care at first, until you started digging into the issues within everyone. You told him that jealousy was one of the leading motives for murder, and you tried to make a light-hearted joke about him being one step away from just offing his brother.

Well now he’s really looking at and assessing himself to see if he needs to go to counseling because you were right: he was one step and a psychotic break away from just killing the monarch of the Sunset Savannah because he was tired of being seen as #2.

You give him an overall summary that everyone at NRC already has a motive for committing a serial crime, so now he’s definitely concerned. Mans will stray as far away from anyone (*cough cough* Malleus *cough cough*) since they’re all ticking time bombs.

Azul Ashengrotto

For someone in your profession, you seem calm. It does make sense, however, since if the person you’re assessing can get under your skin then that wouldn’t be any good. You still terrify him though, since you fly through NRC with ease.

You were unsettling and intimidating to him, even though you were very polite and courteous. It was during a Housewarden meeting where you brought it up to Crowley that he might want to consider investing in a school counselor. Azul was genuinely frightened when you explained that everyone was a pin’s drop away from killing a peer, and the Headmage couldn’t argue against you since you were a professional.

Well, the campus has been more stress-free because they now have the option to talk with a different professional rather than dumping all of their issues on you. Even the sneaky cecaelia himself went to counseling and felt a large burden being lifted off of his shoulders. 

Kalim Al-Asim

He honestly didn’t know what a BAU agent was until you told him that you basically found the reason why someone committed a federal/serial crime. Then he was very worried about how you survived for this long.

This man would one day ask if you could read his psyche, and he was pleasantly surprised. He was one of the most mentally stable people on campus, but then you told him that Jamil was one step away from going batshit.

Your efforts in trying to establish a system of mental and emotional support paid off, and Kalim took part in funding it. You both made a huge difference and now there is a school counselor at Night Raven College. 

Vil Schoenheit

He’s only heard of the occupation through films, so as he does your makeup he will ask you more questions about it since movies don’t always get it right. This man’s eyes went wide when you told him how you had to sit with federal criminals and try and evaluate them to determine their motives.

So, what you were saying is that you constantly put yourself in danger by sitting with criminals who could attack you at any point? Oh, no. This wouldn’t do at all. All he can say is that he’s glad you’re here and not risking yourself for your job (don’t let him hear about the field operations of the FBI).

Then, you made the mistake of telling him that since he’s constantly jealous of Neige, he’s only a few steps away from just ending either himself or the Snow White look-alike. He’ll be right back, he’s booking a therapy session right now.

Idia Shroud

He’s also only heard of your job through movies, so when he gets more comfortable around you he is asking questions left and right. Instead of being appalled, he’s intrigued as to the most common motives that you’ve seen.

Mans could listen to you until his ears bleed. Idia comes from a family that studies blot, which is accumulated through strong emotions. So, aside from the obvious, the jobs you two had were more similar than one would think.

This man also supported you in getting Crowley to establish a system of support for the students, but he didn’t help financially. He helped by making a threat to the old crow and told him that if he didn’t, he would use his family’s influence to link the bird not hiring a school counselor to the overblots.

Malleus Draconia

He didn’t know anything about your job until you brought it up during one of your nightly walks. He tried to keep calm as you told him that you were constantly put up against federal criminals to try and find the motive behind their crimes, but it was taking all of his willpower.

The Prince found it interesting, sure, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your mental or even physical health. He was angry that your employers would put all of this responsibility on you, but you assured that the more dangerous people were put in a straight jacket. That totally made him feel better.

You teach him about the power that emotional support can have, and he helps establish a system at NRC. Since he is one of the five most powerful mages, Crowley couldn’t exactly refuse. He can see the difference that you made, and he congratulates you by giving you a rose on one of your walks.

[thedeathlysallows]

Glow

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader (previously established as Sugar Plum)

Summary: And I'm standing here handing you my heart 'cause I couldn't wait anymore

Warnings: depressed reader, angst, smut. Loki using his shadow magic for nsfw purposes, degredation, spanking, bondage, possessive!Loki, hair pulling. Warnings aren't exhaustive

Here's a part 2 to Santa Baby for y'all. I hope it lives up to expectations!

The year passes by in a dull, painful blur of building toys, spreading Christmas cheer, and ignoring the ache in your chest that appears any time you think about Loki.

No phone call.

No letter.

Nothing.

All you have is the ghost of a memory that fades with each excruciatingly boring day.

You can't even practice your magic properly... since... ya know... he was your teacher. Honestly, someone should've picked up on that. You're not your brother who takes everything in stride and seems to perfect everything with the ease expected of a future Santa Claus. You aren't your mother who just knows what to do to make someone feel better and keeps the elves satisfied and cheery without breaking a sweat. You aren't your father who is Santa Claus and brings joy to every living being across the nine realms.

You're... an imposter in a family of saints.

No wonder Loki ditched you as soon as he fucked you.

That's all you deserve.

To be used and tossed aside.

"You okay over there, sugar plum?" Sprinkle peers at you with curious eyes and rosy cheeks.

You clear your throat and straighten your dress. "Just fine, Sprinkle. How's the blushing bride?"

Sprinkle perks up even more, her mouth stretching into a wide smile. "She's perfect! I love Mrs. Claus more than anything in the whole world, but I think your brother picked a good girl! She'll be the perfect Mrs. Claus when your parents retire and pass the title!"

Sprinkle continues chattering but you block her out. You love Sprinkle, you really do, but it's difficult to listen to her go on and on about how perfect your brother's soon to be wife is. You know how perfect she is. You knew it the moment she stepped foot in the North Pole. You could sense it. Sprinkle is right; she will be the perfect Mrs. Claus one day. She'll have beautiful children who will one day also pick the perfect spouse and the tradition will keep going for as long as the world still spins.

And you'll be somewhere watching.

"I need to go. I can hear them starting the music." You cut off Sprinkle before your chest can cave in from the nasty feeling brewing deep inside you.

Anxiety, Doctor Jolly called it.

(You aren't sure about him with his credentials being from Gumdrop University, but your dad swears he's "the best in the biz". You're pretty sure your dad only says that because good ol' Dr. Jolly always prescribes hot chocolate for almost any ailment of your dad's.)

You wind your way through the labyrinth that is your home, meeting the rest of your family at the front entryway. Red and green garland wrap around every available surface, silver tinsel dripping off various fixtures. If this was your wedding you probably would've requested more decorations, but Holly wanted to downplay the whole "Santa thing" as she called it.

"My family thinks they're in Canada," she confided in you last week. "I couldn't tell them the truth, could I?"

No, she couldn't, but you still feel bad she had to lie to her family.

And all for your brother.

Ew.

"Oh, sugar plum, there you are!" Your mother reaches out for you, running her eyes over your perfectly pleated red dress before nodding to herself. "Sprinkle did a wonderful job."

"As usual." You give her a tense smile and turn to Holly. "How are you?"

She nods, looking flushed and excited. "I'm good! I've been waiting months!"

Months.

Holly and your brother have known each other for months.

Loki's known you practically your entire life and you can't get him to talk to you anymore.

"-go sit down," your mother says.

You've clearly caught the tail end of a conversation, but you can't find it in you to care. She tugs on you, wrapping her hand in the crook of your elbow before stepping through the heavy oak doors to head into what your mother affectionately calls "the entertaining room". It sort of reminds you of the throne room in Asgard, but less austere and more homey with all the dark wood and soft fire light. It's decorated similar to the entry hall, with red, green, and silver covering everything. A giant Christmas tree sits in front of the staircase with yellow twinkling lights and various handmade ornaments.

"They made it after all, how lovely!" Your mother nudges you in the side, forcing you to look up from the red aisle runner.

You follow your mother's line of vision only to meet Thor's eyes. He gives you a broad smile and whispers something to the brunette woman sitting on his left side. She looks completely awestruck, taking in everything. Whoever she is, she must mean a lot to Thor if he risked bringing her to the wedding.

You look to Thor's right and your throat constricts. Loki sits with his back straight and legs crossed, lips curved down in a bored frown. He looks up at the same time you and your mother take your seats in the front row. Not even the comfy cream and silver chairs the elves worked so hard on for the wedding can relax you. Loki's eyes burn holes in the back of your skull through the entire ceremony. You even miss your dad pronouncing the happy couple man and wife, you're so desperate to find an escape route.

For an entire year you wanted so desperately for him to say anything to you, and now all you can think about is getting away.

How brave of you.

Face your problems head on, Doctor Jolly told you months ago. It sounded nice at the time. Helpful even. Now? Now not so much.

No, you'll make the rounds at your parents' side and then go hide in your room.

Good?

Good.

The assembled crowd migrates to the dining room and you try to lose Loki in the throng of bodies. Much to your displeasure, it doesn't work at all. In fact, it's like he's zeroed in on you and nothing can distract him from stalking you in the giant room. You dance around him, downing one glass of champagne followed by two more. Eventually, you lose him and feel your shoulders relax.

"Hello, sugar plum," Loki's low voice purrs in your ear.

The tension in your body comes back immediately. "What the fuck do you want?"

He puts his hand over his heart. "How nasty. Is that any way to treat an honored guest?"

"Honored guest?"

"That's what the invitation said."

"Well I sure as shit didn't write that." You pluck a sugar cookie off the tray of a passing elf. "If it had been up to me it would've said something like "stupid liars need not show up"."

He raises a brow. "Stupid liars?"

"Yeah, well, it's a work in progress. But you get the idea!"

"No, actually, I don't believe I do. What exactly did I lie about?"

"Good question! You-" you bite off the cookie, trying to buy yourself some time. Loki just looks at you, half expectant, half amused.

"Admit it," he goads you. "I haven't lied to you."

"You took my virginity," you accuse.

Loki shrugs nonchalantly. "Something anyone could've done, sugar plum."

"But they didn't!" A few people turn their heads curiously in your direction when they hear your raised voice, and your skin heats up in embarrassment. "I didn't let anyone else. I let you and then you just left me."

Loki's mask of cool indifference falters for a second before he slips it back in place. "Did it not occur to you that I was otherwise occupied?"

"Oh, so you finally made that move on Sif now that she's free from Thor?"

"Of all the stupid, childish things to come out of your mouth, that one might earn the top spot." Loki bends so his lips are right at your ear. "It's been no one but you for a year, sugar plum. Shall I prove it?"

You shove him away and tilt your chin in defiance. "Fuck off, Loki. I don't need you."

Without sparing a look back, you leave the dining room and head to your bedroom. You'd rather be alone forever than spend another second in a room with Loki. Besides, everyone is so busy with your brother and Holly that they won't notice you're gone.

Once in the safety of your bedroom, you strip out of your dress, the heavy red velvet pooling around your ankles. A simple green bathrobe sits on the edge of your bed, but before you can grab it, long fingers wrap around your wrist. Loki tugs you toward him with ease.

"I've certainly missed this sight," he purrs.

"How did you-"

"Magic, sugar plum. You would've sensed me sooner had you been practicing with your own."

"Sorry, my teacher fucked me and dumped me, so I've been a bit depressed."

Loki hums. "Yes, so Sprinkle cornered me and told me."

You genuinely have nothing else to say. An entire year of dreaming of this moment, and now it's here, and you can't think of a single thing to say.

"Speechless, darling? I do tend to have that effect on women." He's teasing you, trying to get you to say something, but you still can't find the words. "Come now, sugar plum. I'm sure you have more to say to me."

You open your mouth only to close it before opening it again. "I don't."

"Not even if I said I've missed you every second this past year? Not even if I said losing my mother didn't even compare to losing you?"

You heard about Frigga dying. You even attended her funeral. Loki had been nowhere in sight.

"I wanted you," he continues. "Every second of every day."

"You're lying," you say.

"How can you be so certain?"

"Because..." You swallow the lump in your throat and blink back the tears. "I'm nothing. I'm no one."

"Who's the liar now?"

Your eyes flicker up to meet his. "You know it's the truth."

Green flames flicker and dance in the depths of his gaze. "I've met many beings in my life, sugar plum, and most of them never deserved to exist. But you? You're not one of them."

"Loki, I don't feel-"

"No, you never do. You never feel anything, do you?" He's angry as he pulls you into his chest, his long fingers leaving their mark on the bare skin of your hips. "If you refuse to help yourself, sugar plum, I suppose it's up to me."

He walks you backwards until the backs of your thighs meet your soft bed. The two of you topple over onto it, Loki's body still pressed firmly to your own. Through his finely pressed suit you can feel every single inch of him. What little bit of his skin is exposed is hot, feverish almost.

"I wasn't avoiding you," Loki says with a snarl.

He presses hot kisses to the column of your throat in between words. Something cold and almost mist-like wraps around your wrists, pinning them in place. You look to either side and see large shadows the same shape as Loki looming over you. That's what holds your wrists down. That's what slithers across your breasts, toying with your nipples and leaving goosebumps all over your skin. His shadows.

You struggle to catch your breath. "Then what were you doing?"

"Preparing, darling."

"For what?"

Loki hums, trailing his fingers from your hips to the insides of your thighs. His touch is light, teasing. "For you. You're mine."

"Y-yours?"

He nods. "Mine."

He spreads your thighs, dragging a finger over your slit. His shadows still hold you firmly in place, allowing their master to do as he wishes with your exposed body.

"Tell me, darling," Loki purrs in your ear as he sinks two fingers deep in your cunt. "Why would I want anything that isn't absolutely perfect?"

You bite back a moan and squeeze your eyes shut. You've wanted this, dreamt of this, for a year... and now you're totally overwhelmed to have his attention again. As Loki's fingers pump in and out of you, you arch your back, your brain going foggy with lust.

"You're a goddess," he continues. His lips are right by your ear and he nips at your earlobe. "I've been searching for a place worthy of us for the past year. You were made to rule by my side."

Loki leans back, a flash of green momentarily joining the warm orange glow of the fireplace. His clothes disappear in the flash and he's back on you in a second.

"You were made for me," Loki whispers. The firelight catches the sharp angles of his face, softening his expression. His shadows disappear and it's just the two of you now. Loki withdraws his fingers from your cunt and strokes his cock. "Yes?"

You nod, eager to have him inside you. "Yes!"

"Mmm, good girl."

He flips you over onto your front and grips your ass, fingertips digging into your flesh. His cock prods and your soaked entrance and you moan into the sheets. One of his palms moves to rest against the small of your back while he uses the other to guide himself inside you. It feels so good, so right, to have Loki buried to the hilt inside you. You feel full. Complete.

"Loki," you moan out as you arch your back, fucking yourself on his cock. "Please!"

Loki strokes your hair before grabbing a fistful and yanking your head back. "So pretty when you beg, sugar plum. But a good whore uses her words. Tell me exactly what you want."

You continue bouncing your ass on his cock, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please, Loki, please fuck me please!"

"Is that all? You just want me to fuck you? Is that all you're worth? A hole for me to come in and throw away after?"

"Y-yes." It comes out as a question more than a statement.

Loki's hand comes down on your ass, a loud slap echoing through the room. "Wrong. What did I tell you that you are?"

"A goddess!"

"What else?"

When you take too long to answer he smacks your ass again. "What else?!"

"Yours," you cry out. "I'm yours."

Loki snaps his hips forward, meeting your own desperate grinding. "Fuck yes you are."

You let your upper body fall forward, relaxing into his smooth movements as he fucks into your cunt. He's thick and hard inside you and reaches spots you didn't even know existed. Your mind goes absolutely blank until the only thing that exists is the sensation of Loki inside you. He moans your name, praises falling from his lips.

So good, he says. Mine. All mine.

"L-Loki..." you gasp out his name as your orgasm washes through you, leaving your body tingling in its wake.

"Yes," Loki groans. "My perfect girl."

His cock twitches inside you as he comes, his body draping over yours in the aftermath of his own orgasm. His chest rises and falls quickly as he rolls to his side and pulls you with him.

"Are you leaving now?" You hate how small your voice sounds when you ask the question, but Loki's answer has you sighing in relief.

"Never again, sugar plum. As I said earlier, you're mine. Now and forever. In every lifetime."

[regularconvexheadcanons]

oKAY BUT CUBS OBSESSION WITH SCAR IS SOMETHING NO ONE CAN BREAK- THE I D E A S- (also hi sculk scar anon again :3)

1: Cub Totally uses Scar as a basis for spite specifically! Or at least Scar level spite (then you get Grian level instigation, Doc level revenge, aaaand honestly Cub uses himself as a Knows It level to see how others vary on what they know like parkour and different mechanics for it in the Labyrinths case - everyone elses mini games and businesses are enough data on their own, talkings just a bonus)

2: Cub had to lock himself away, listen to the Songs of the Vex and later the Sculk, when Grian was soulbound to Scar. Already Grian was connected to Mumbo, Grian already was paired up! Scar was *His* proven and Earned soulhalf- Sometimes he can only be brought out of his jealousy by the Vex, other times he calls Scar over and covers absolutely Covers Scar in jewelry while looking at their shared earring/necklace/ring/piercing. They may not have the Cathedral anymore but hell if Cub didn't know how to make Scar feel like an altar, worshipped and made *perfect*.

3: Though course connected as they are, Cub is near by, watches, listens, plans, *lives* near Scar in ways the other Hermits could never even Attempt. But Scars version? It's Being. Cub is near by? Scar slows, stops, flies predictably. Cubs watching? He becomes more animated, smiley, putting on a him sized puppet show for Cub. He's listening to Scar? More inflection, tone, stylized pacing- ends some stories as "For the one and only, Cubfan!" Planning is Inevitable for those two. Living?

They are Vex. They have always been before and after. Even Watchers look on, envious of the Connection eyes cannot achieve.

...aNYWAY- Hope yall like it :D (need more convex crumbs I am Dying)

1: Yep. Definitely. Scar spites, and holds grudges, and gives his friends the cold shoulder like no one else. But never towards Cub. They’re not sure if it’s a vex thing, but Vex definitely hold grudges, so it’s probably part of it

2: ooooh yess. Cub would definitely be at least a little bit jealous and begrudging of Grian for being Scar’s soulmate, and respond by treating Scar even better than usual. For so many reasons. A: how the other soulmate pairs get to act around each other without anyone questioning. He and Scar are happy to be close and affectionate in private, but being able to do that more publicly without the other players teasing them for it? Yes. Cub needs that.

b: he’s heard Scar’s stories of Grian being distant and rude and then later cheating in Scar. He knows Scar just wants an ally who cares for him. Grian has a chance to be as friendly and excited and caring with Scar as he is in Hermitcraft and he’s blowing it completely. (Which also made Cub wonder if Grian was faking it in Hermitcraft) C: one of my headcanons is that during Double Life, Cub ALSO feels the Scar and Grian’s injuries (but as phantom pain), even stronger than usual. And then Grian saying how Scar’s always getting hurt when he really isn’t. And Cub can’t quite understand Grian’s problem.

Also, on the same point, I want to know more about this Song of the Vex. I love it. Clearly it’s something that calms vexlings down, perhaps something only vexlings can hear. And maybe allays as well, and the allays are either calmed by it, or it makes them act up. And other players are really confused. I can imagine a lot of humming, no real lyrics. But a lot of pent of emotion. And now that’s led me to a thought that Vex - and Vexlings - hum when they’re happy. Like the equivalent of cats purring.

3: Scar putting on a show of normal everyday things whenever Cub’s around? Yes. So much yes. Anything he can to make Cub’s day that little bit brighter. And when Cub’s in a conversation with other hermits, Scar sometimes appears behind and Cub’ll be left trying to explain Scar’s antics. And he never quite can explain how Scar made him laugh in a way that the other hermits understand. In the same way neither of them can explain how they understand their secret non-verbal language of tiny movements, or what any particular movement means. They just have that connection with each other. Is it the Vex? Probably. Are they in love with each other? Only in a QPR way. But would they exchange that feeling for anything else? Absolutely not.

[i-love-ulysses-butterflies]

Bianca lives au

If bianca lives I want her to somehow or the other be there for nico, as the over protective older sister

Examples include,

the battle of manhattan/the final battle, and Nico arrives with the skeleton army, and the 3 gods, and bianca is just like, "well little brother you may be 12 now, but you'll always be my little brother"

When Nico revives Hazel ( in this au, he is trying to revive his mother), bianca and hazel talk, (hazel is 2 years older than bianca and 4 years older than nico), they debate who is actually older, but eventually they just bond over making fun of nico for being the younger brother

For the labyrinth thing, in this version nico is just outcasted and/or ostracised by the camp so he runs away and is found by Minos, it follows a similar plot as the actual book, but this nico is not bitter, he just thought minos was a genuinely nice/helpful ghost and was helping him, but when bianca finds out minos manipulated nico she goes beserk (nico is still the ghost king tho),

after the tartarus and Jar incident, she is mad at the 7 (minus hazel) for ever doubting her brother

then when nico almost fades after the athena parthenos incident, she's mad at reyna + the seven, but does eventually forgive them, but not forget

and after he jumps into tartarus a second time, she doesn't even know who to be mad at, she's just mad at both of them

Now, I'm imagining everytime she wants to find Nico she digs her hand into a shadow and pulls out nico

[beatinginavoid]

The Volcano

Part 4 of 6. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

— — —

Don’t explore the volcano.

The volcano had an interesting and complex cave system formed by magma flows over many, many years. They were said to be beautiful, glistening with crystals of various types. Many spelunkers were drawn to the chance to investigate a whole new cave system that was easily accessible. Others were hunting for profit, wanting to extract the precious stones and minerals.

The area became crowded, people were going missing in the unmapped labyrinth, and safety leapt to the top of the list. Signs, fencing, and other barriers went up in an effort to dissuade people from approaching willy-nilly.

An office was established and exploration expeditions were scheduled, though many ignored the quick and shoddy set up. There were always people that slipped by, only known about when missing reports reached the area.

One newcomer, dressed in vivid, fiery shades of red and orange, was there to explore and to grab some shiny souvenirs. No fence or barrier was going to stop them!

So what happened when they went exploring?

— — —

Chain link barriers? Easy to step over or duck under. Fencing? Easy to cut through. The office and checkpoints were easy to circumvent, even in broad daylight while wearing bright clothing. It’s almost insulting how easy it is to sneak into one of the cave system’s entrances.

There are tiny glints of light speckling the tunnel’s walls, ceiling, and floor. Tiny crystals, or tiny parts of crystals showing – they don’t excite you though. You want ones from deeper in to make the trip truly worthwhile.

Excitement runs through your veins, your heart pushing you onward with every beat.

Sometimes there’s enough room for you to walk, while other times you’re forced to crouch or even crawl, dragging your backpack along with you. Good thing it’s mostly empty.

The magma flows have created interesting textures and patterns and you enjoy running your fingers over them as you progress. The flashlight attached to your helmet makes bursts of rainbows as it flashes around, catching on all of the crystalline surfaces. Every movement forward creates dazzling new displays.

The tunnels were a spelunker’s dream. Despite some tight spots, the way had been easy to traverse for anyone with a modicum of experience. It was fun, it was beautiful. After a good hour or so, you crawl out into a spacious cavern. There are crystals absolutely everywhere, spikes and spires of them forming stalactites and stalagmites all over. Piles and piles of them fill half of the floor space, some of them tickling the ceiling.

This is an absolutely gorgeous treasure trove you giddily giggle with glee over. It’s warm in here, but tolerable. You swing your backpack off and pick out a sizable specimen, stuffing it gently inside. You pick out another, and another. You reach for a fourth when the whole mound trembles, a few from the top tumbling down.

You step back to avoid the sharp edged projectiles.

A rumble resounds throughout the cavern. Is the volcano active? Is this a normal thing?

The whole pile shifted, crystals falling down like rain, and two long, dark, ridged, conical spikes appeared from the summit. You jump back further and gasp, watching as a reptilian head emerges, bright yellow, slitted eyes focusing right on you.

Wisps of smoke waft up from the nostrils and your brain screams dragon!

There is an actual dragon with a treasure hoard living in this volcanic cave system. Judging from that smoke, the stories of fire breathing are true. You don’t want to stick around and find out, so you finally get your legs to work and make a break for the way you had come in.

Something whips out from the side and knocks your feet out from under you. You tumble to the ground and something pulls you back. Fingers attempt to dig in, but the dried, hardened magma has no give to it, and you scream, lungs squeezing and heart pounding.

When you stop, you look around to see a black talon, half a dozen inches long, sunk into the hem of your pants. The dragon is now mostly revealed, and you can see a long, serpentine body, about twelve feet in length, with spikes jutting out from the spine. There were no wings, but the mouthful of fangs was very intimidating.

The dragon steps out of what is left of its crystal mound, and stands directly over you, your frightened gaze meeting its predatory one. It flicks its claw free of your pants and splays its scaly digits over your rib cage, holding you down.

Your heart thumps hard and fast and you begin to pant. The dragon’s skin is far warmer than the air and its heat seeps right through your clothes. With one quick swipe, the dragon rips the clothing off the front of your torso and lightly pins you again. The heat from its scales directly on your skin feels like a severe sunburn, and you gasp.

The beast opens its maw and growls. You can see flickers of flame over its tongue and between the fangs and try to flinch back. Sadly the ground does not yield and swallow you. Will it eat you before you develop blisters?

It moves its foot to pin down one of your arms and breathes onto your sternum, a thin jet of fire leaving its jaws. The heat is nigh unbearable and you scream loudly. When the fire stops, you lay there panting for a moment before you turn to look at the damage.

Your skin is unblemished despite the intense heat and pain. Your chest feels tight, every breath stinging your lungs. All of the organs in your upper torso feel like a piece of bread that just popped up from the toaster; now lightly browned.

You wriggle in a desperate bid to escape, but the dragon uses its other front foot to pin down your other arm. Your heart is beating faster than it ever has before, and you are left gasping and sweating in fright.

It gives a brief roar and breathes fire on your chest again. The heat quickly amps up and you swear you can hear sizzling, though the flames don’t seem to be physically damaging your skin.

Your heart hammers against your ribs, feeling like a burger on a barbecue, and your extremities tingle with warmth as the heated blood is pumped around. Everything starts to hurt as the heat spreads, like intense pins and needles.

The dragon stops the weird cooking ritual and leans in, sniffing your chest. Despite the reptilian face you can clearly see that the beast isn’t exactly pleased. Does it want you medium rare? Well done?

Another sustained burst of flame hits you, and every time your pump contracts there is a sharp ache, like you’ve stuck your heart in a fire. Your blood feels like hot water being poured down your veins and you scream again, fruitlessly writhing beneath the dragon.

It’s cooking your cardiac muscle like a slab of meat and boiling the crimson liquid it pumps around your body. Your skin is still unblemished, but the dragon is roasting you from the inside out.

It is utter agony and you barely have the breath to scream, the heat and your injured heart, desperately sprinting to the best of its ability, are stealing your oxygen. Are there bubbles in your blood? Is your pericardium filling with steam and smoke?

You imagine your lifeblood boiling away to nothing like an unattended pan of water on a stove top. You imagine your heart turning brown and tough, barely able to contract to pump any blood. You wonder which one will happen first.

Dizziness, light-headedness, blurry and fading vision plague you, and you fear what your heart looks like under this assault.

No one knows you’re here. You’ll be just another missing person to add to the statistics.

The dragon stops and sniffs your chest again. It gives a soft, low rumble, resembling a massive, reptilian house cat’s purr. It’s clearly pleased with the progress and you wonder if fangs will sink into you at any moment. But no, it breathes more fire.

Each breath you take is horribly painful, and now you can feel every rushed beat, each pump like pure torture. It feels like lava flowing through you instead of blood. You gasp like a fish out of water, your heart and lungs stealing every molecule of oxygen.

Ba-ow-thump-owba-ow-thump-owba-ow-thump-owba-ow-thump-ow

Your heart is beating and being stabbed at a rapid-fire pace, your lungs feel shrivelled from heat, and your vision is developing black spots as oxygen deprivation sets in. The scent of cooked meat invades your nose and you kick out and writhe in a last ditch, primal attempt to attain freedom.

Choking wheezes leave your throat and the dark spots increase, blacking out over half of your vision. Your lungs aren’t moving at all and your heart is no longer pounding. Each beat feels weaker and weaker, less blood being pumped around by the stiffened, barbecued muscle. You can literally feel your life slipping away.

As the darkness swallows your consciousness, you hope the wretched reptile chokes on your remains. Your heart finally stops as the fire cooks it beyond use. The complete lack of movement in your rib cage is a first, but it is also the very last thing your mind processes as death embraces you.

The dragon’s jaws snap shut, instantly cutting off the jet of fire. Sharp talons rend flesh and muscle. They curl around the top of the sternum and ribs and the dragon snaps off the exposed parts of the rib cage. The unmoving heart and lungs are fully visible. 

A front foot delicately wraps around the heart, dark brown pericardium and all, and gently places it into fanged jaws. Another happy rumble echoes around the crystal filled cavern, and the dragon swallows the cooked organ as if it’s a delicacy. It licks its muzzle.

Don’t explore the volcano.

— — —

I wrote the latter half of this while watching Gordon Ramsey roast people on Kitchen Nightmares. Fitting, don't you think?

I have a couple of anon asks I'll probably get started on, but part 5 may be posted first depending on ease of writing and interest.

🔥🫀