#and the pay scale is the same so they would give me a raise after a few months

[guinevereslancelot]

i'm so bummed i accidentally turned town a job interview for a job where I could have worked with a good friend and mentor 😔

[smuddee-papabear]

naga partner manhandles you with their tail 🙏

Ooh I love nagas. You didn't specify gender so I'm going to make both gender neutral

gender neutral reader X gender neutral naga

Tw: rough handling, biting kink

---

Most mornings were easy, your partner was too busy warming up on their heating pad to complain too hard about you going into work. The day would start with you wriggling your way from their sizable tail before taking a shower. You'd get your breakfast and coffee before leaving after giving them a peck on the cheek.

Some mornings, however, they wouldn't let you go without a fight. This was one of them.

"I have to go into work." You know they won't care about that the moment their tail wraps your leg.

Your naga lets out a huffy sigh, tail trailing up. "I could provide you with everything you need without that silly job getting in the way."

"That silly job pays for your food bill." You tease, turning to look at them. It was a mistake. The way the morning light shines on their gorgeous scales is far too distracting. "And your heat pad."

Your naga partner clearly doesn't like that assessment. Their expression darkens slightly. "I can feed us both and I don't need a fancy pad to warm myself."

"Oh no?" Your raised eyebrow is another mistake.

You yelp as a strong force shoves unexpectedly on your chest. Before you know it you're wrapped in a coil and pushed into the floor right in front of them.

Your breath is knocked out of you, and not just from the force of it. Naga!Partner's eyes gleam with satisfaction as they loom above you. You're sure they can feel the jump in your heart rate. A devilish smile crosses their face.

"If you think I can't, get out of my coils and go into work."

For a moment you stare open mouthed at them. Get out of their coils? How does this prove that they can provide for you?

Finally you start wriggling against the well muscled body, trying to ignore how intently your naga watches. It doesn't take long before you're out of breath.

Unwilling to admit defeat you start kicking your legs and manage to make minor headway. Before you can be proud of that you hear tutting from Naga!Partner and another section of tail wraps your legs before you're yanked upside-down and dangled in front of the naga's eyes.

Heat flushes your face. "Hey! I was doing what you told me to!" A chaste kiss to your lips has you too flustered to splutter out more of your indignance.

"Are you just giving up?" The smug tone causes your blush to spread further.

You try to curl up and grab their tail but are stopped when they use another coil to shove up into your back, arching it almost uncomfortably. Once again the breath is knocked from your lungs.

You barely have time to get it back before Naga!Partner shifts the end of their tail to force your legs open just enough to put you in a very vulnerable position. They tease your crotch with the tip.

Despite what you should be wanting, to get free, a sharp moan escapes your mouth.

Your naga's breath tickles the back of your neck and sends shivers through your body. "I can provide for you." Their hiss is somehow so loving and so angry at the same time.

You open your mouth but are embarrassed the only thing leaving it is a breathy whine. Something cold and flat slides into your hand. Only a moment goes by before you realize what. Your phone; a clear demand to call in sick.

It takes effort but you manage to speak without another whine. "I have-...I have to work."

"No," Naga!Partner's teeth skim the skin on your neck. You can feel their fangs trail along. Goosebumps form where they do. "I can provide for you."

"Need...need t wo-work...!" You manage to choke out. To be honest you don't really care about it anymore. Your heart is racing, body throbbing with every shift of your naga's muscles, mind foggy with need.

Their fangs push into your skin. It's not enough to break it but it is enough to cause a jolt through your shaking frame. "I will provide you with what you need today."

You call in sick, and just as promised your Naga!Partner provides all you need and more.

[tennessoui]

For the ask game, Obikin for #18? Bonus if it's Anakin saying it to Obi-Wan, though the other way is good too.

both ways would be excellent, but i went here with anakin saying the line to obi-wan!

[from this list of prompts]

[5. 'are you jealous' - 14. 'hey, i'm with you, okay? always.' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 28. 'marry me?' 32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified' - 37. 'wanna dance?' (LATEST) - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

18. "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. of course I'm in."

There really wasn't much time for anything else. Not for any serious planning, not for any consultations with anyone and certainly not for any sort of communing with the Force.

Their ship had been hit just as it dropped from hyperspace, and Obi-Wan had wrested the controls from Anakin only to direct them to one of the nearest planets in the system--which is what Anakin would have done anyway.

Even though he thinks he would have chosen a planet to crash on that was at least a fractionally less galacticly famed for being extremely isolationist.

And now, ship a mangled wreck on the edge of the coast but the both of them mostly alright save for a nasty cut over Obi-Wan's forehead and what Anakin is positive are his own set of bruised ribs, Anakin has thoughts. And opinions.

Not that they seem to matter to his master, who's already abandoned the ship's carcass and made for the rocky cliffside they'll need to scale to reach the settlement above.

"This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had," Anakin pants as he scrambles behind him with judicious use of the Force.

Obi-Wan pauses on a small ledge and looks back at him with a raised eyebrow. A moment later, something must spark in the wreckage of the ship, because there's the familiar sound of roughly fifty thousand Republic credits going bomb. Obi-Wan's other eyebrow raises to match the first.

"Of course I'm in," Anakin adds with a sigh, reaching the same ledge as his master and catching his breath. "But it'd be a real comfort for some of us if you spend the rest of this climb thinking of better plans to get us out of this mess than just walking up to the first door we see, knocking politely, telling them I'm your son and that we'd like to borrow passage to the nearest space center."

Obi-Wan's mouth thins out, and the Force around him does something strange. Actually, now that Anakin's looking at him and paying attention, the Force around him is strange. It feels...strange.

Maybe Anakin hit his head harder than he thought.

"Perhaps you should let me do the talking," is all Obi-Wan tells him, and Anakin is so distracted by squinting suspiciously at his Force signature that he almost forgets to be offended at the words.

Almost.

"I'm just saying, master!" He says as he doggedly follows Obi-Wan's ascension even as his ribs twinge in protest. "Stewjon is so isolationist, I've never heard of anyone visiting. They don't give a kark about the war or galactic politics or the Jedi! They're not gonna give a kark about some father-son duo from the--from the Ryu sector or something either!"

"Oh," Obi-Wan says, distracted, and they have almost reached the top now. "They will give a kark about me, I think."

It's energy, that's what's buzzing around Obi-Wan's Force signature. Pure, frenetic energy. Something almost nervous, though Anakin can't remember the last time he's ever seen his master nervous. He thinks--he thinks maybe he never has.

Certainly not nervous like this.

Obi-Wan hasn't even asked him how he's feeling, not once since they climbed from the wreckage. He'd run his hands down Anakin's front and back in a quick, shallow sort of examination, but that'd been all.

He's been...distracted since they landed.

Anakin doesn't like it.

Which is just one of the many things Anakin doesn't like. Maybe it isn't even in the top five things he doesn't like right now.

After all, Obi-Wan apparently wants to pretend that Anakin is his son. Which--it just feels unnecessary. And unnecessarily cruel, given how Anakin feels about his former master and how obvious he's been about those feelings. How hopeful he'd been upon his Knighting, that something could happen between them. How quickly he'd been set straight.

And sure, that was three years ago now, but he doesn't think Obi-Wan's forgotten. Anakin wouldn't forget if Ahsoka tried to drunkenly kiss him, that's for sure. He doesn't think Obi-Wan is holding it against him or anything, has probably let it go and expected Anakin to have done the same by now after all this time has gone by, but there's that sort of cruelty by silence and then there's--this.

There's Obi-Wan standing from the wreckage of their ship, hands on Anakin's shoulders and eyes flicking back and forth between Anakin's face and the landscape around them and saying in a voice full of the expectation that it will be obeyed, "You must tell them you are a Kenobi. I will take the lead, stay a step behind me, but tell them that you are...of mine. We crashed after a bad deployment from...selling store in the Ryu sector. Anakin, remember: your name is Anakin Kenobi."

"What should I call you, then?" Anakin asks, half collapsing onto the grassy edge of the cliff. His ribs have gone from protesting to staging a full-on revolt. "Daddy? Father?"

Obi-Wan blinks down at him, looking pained. "Just...let me do the talking," he says before offering Anakin a hand up.

Anakin is feeling resentful but not enough to ignore the opportunity to touch his master. Even after all this time. He'd think himself desperate and pathetic, if it weren't for the way the Force sings with rightness every time their bodies brush together.

If not for the way that he thinks Obi-Wan's eyes have taken up the habit of following him around the room, the way his hands linger as they spar, the way his Force signature tangles with his at the slightest provocation.

Anakin still doesn't know what to do with the new information that he's spent the last several months amassing, and he doesn't think now is the time to think about it.

Once standing, he lets his master's hand go and turns to examine the edge of the town they've found themselves in.

It's rustic, the buildings made mostly from weathered stone and wood, not up to galactic standards but charming enough. "Well," Anakin says, glancing between the group of buildings and his master when Obi-Wan does not move forward. "What about that one?"

"No," Obi-Wan says, eyes flickering to the house that Anakin's pointed out before jumping away. The Force crackles around them. "It...it had a yellow door," his master says, which is just nonsensical enough that Anakin's suddenly worried that it'd been Obi-Wan who'd hit his head too hard in their landing.

"What did?" he asks, but Obi-Wan is already moving away from him, walking further into the town as if it's...

As if it's the most natural thing in the world.

They'll give a kark about me.

You must tell them you're a Kenobi.

Let me do the talking.

Because the planet of Stewjon is known to be an extremely isolationist planet.

But the people of Stewjon are also known to place huge importance on clan allegiance and family ties, widely referred to as loyal--to the point of foolishness.

Anakin blinks and watches his master grow smaller as the man walks further away from him and--and towards his family.

It had a yellow door.

Anakin catches up with him quickly, grabbing at Obi-Wan's hand and pulling him to a stop. "This is your planet," he hisses, squeezing his fingers. "Isn't it? You chose your planet to crash on."

Obi-Wan blinks at him, as if he doesn't understand why this piece of information may have been useful to know earlier. Preferably, while they were still in free-fall even. "Yes," he admits with a tiny shrug that belies the nervous movements in the Force around him. "It was convenient."

"Obi-Wan," Anakin squeezes his fingers harder for a moment before letting go so he can drag his hand through his hair. "You're just--you're going to, what, stroll up to your parents' house after thirty-nine years and say what? Hello, I'm Obi-Wan Kenobi, this is my son, Anakin, pleasure to re-meet you?"

"You're hurt," Obi-Wan points out as if blood is not dripping down the side of his own face. "And we're low on options. I happen to have ties here--ties that may offer us medical treatment and lodgings for the night. It would have been dangerous to crash elsewhere just because I've never been here before."

"You can't lie to your mom!" Anakin says, aghast, even though that is perhaps low on the list of priorities. Even though after all these years perhaps Obi-Wan's mother has died as well. Or perhaps they've moved to another part of the planet. Perhaps to another planet altogether. "You can't--I'm not going to tell her I'm her grandchild! You'd have to--she'll think you got some girl pregnant at sixteen! No. No, you can't. I won't let you. I'll tell her--I'll tell her you were a deadbeat dad, if you try to. You can't."

Obi-Wan has the gall to look amused, mouth curling up into a slight smile. "If you must know, I really wasn't planning on telling her anything of the sort," he says before looking at the houses around them.

There, on the corner. Anakin knows the exact moment that Obi-Wan sets eyes on it because his Force signature leaps in the air around them before settling down again, forcefully.

"You said to tell them I'm your son," Anakin argues as he follows Obi-Wan towards the house. The door is still yellow. Anakin tries to see how his master feels about that, but he's feeling so many things that honestly Anakin finds it impossible to pin down any one emotion.

His master's hands fly to his hair, push down his fringe. It's almost so endearing that Anakin finds it hard to breathe, though that could also be the bruised ribs.

"Nonsense, Anakin," Obi-Wan says absently as he studies the front of the house. The one that could have been his. The door is still yellow. "You do not look like my son."

"Well then--"

"I meant my husband," his master tells him in an undertone as they climb the stairs. "Unions are important on Stewjon. If you're seen as mine, you should--that is, you should be treated the way I'm treated." He knocks politely on the door, and then adds as if it's an after-thought, "whichever way that is."

Anakin really isn't sure he remembers how to breathe. Especially not when Obi-Wan's arm curls around his waist the moment before the door swings open. It's all so much. Too much happening at once.

The man who blinks out at them from inside his house that could have been Obi-Wan's house, that was his house for some indeterminable length of time--he has his master's eyes.

"Ah," his master says softly as he blinks back at the man who on second glance looks like the spitting image of him, only balder, broader, and older, "I knew I had a brother."

[parkersbliss]

Met Him Last Night | P. Graves

pairing: phillip graves x gender neutral reader 

synopsis: you make a decision to trust him, just this once. don't be surprised when it backfires.

warnings: graves, mentions of soap's death, possible timeline inaccuracies, one sexual reference

a/n: based on the song "met him last night" by demi lovato ft. ariana grande :) down bad for this man pls he's my american babe

Masterlist | Taglist | Prompt List

requests open for call of duty!

—

“Red or white?” 

“Neither.” 

“White it is,” They tell the server, pointing to one of the names.

You sigh, leaning back in your seat. What were you doing this late at night here? With him? 

Graves is sitting in front of you, smirking at your sour expression and you want to rip it off his face. 

The server returns with the bottle and two glasses, pouring it for both of you. Graves thanks him and then gestures for you to take a sip. He grabs his glass, raises it to you in a toast, and waits. You hesitate for a second before grabbing the other glass. After all, what’s there to lose? You’ve already sat here with him, might as well make it more bearable. 

“That’s more like it,” He chuckles as you take a huge gulp. It has a hint of white peaches, delicate, but rich and intense as you finish it. 

You set the glass back down. “You’re an instigator.” 

“So they tell me,” He replies with ease. “But isn’t this so much more fun than drowning in your own sorrows?” 

You’ll give him that, at least. You weren’t sure why you thought this was a good idea. You don’t really believe in Graves and what he stood for. Or lack of what he stood for. 

Yet, here you were, sat in this restaurant with him, indulging him when you shouldn’t. A meeting with the devil. 

“You know you don’t have to like so sour to be here, darlin’. It was your choice to contact me.” 

“I’m starting to regret that,” You mumble, knowing he was right. In a moment of weakness, you begged for a contact with him and did some dingy shit, but you got it. You should at least give him a chance after all that hard work. 

“I’m not good enough company?” 

“I’ve had better.” 

He fakes a frown. “Hurtful, really. But I know you’re mourning, so I’ll let it slide.” 

You roll your eyes. “How generous of you.” 

“You know, they do say I am quite a giver.” 

You narrow your eyes at him. Giver? He must have spoken wrong, he was a digger. Grave digger or gold digger. They both fit him. “Well, that’s some bullshit.” 

Graves laughs, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “No, I’m generous to the right people,” He corrects you. “My shadows get bonuses every year for Christmas.” He extends a hand to gesture at the table. “I’m paying for our lovely dinner tonight. Think that must constitute for something.” 

“Thank you,” You said, honestly. He was right after all, you called him here and all you’ve done is hurl insults at him. “I’m sorry.” 

He quirks a brow. “For what?” 

“I could be better company.”

“Ah, nonsense!” He waves a hand, dismissing your apology. His voice lowers, “Anyone in your position would be the same way, snippy and all.” 

“I’m not snippy!” You’re quick to defend. Though the look on his face says you might have just proven his point. “A little snippy,” You admit. 

“And that’s okay. It’s never easy losing a teammate to something so… preventable.” 

You clench your jaw at that mention and he takes quick notice. “But enough of that. Let’s talk about you.” 

“What about me?” 

“Anything you like, darlin’.” 

“I have a cat,” You blurt out. 

“Do ya?”

You nod. “Yeah, my friend takes care of him while I’m away. He’s uh… a tuxedo.” You pull out your phone to show him a picture. “He’s a little shit.” 

Graves leans in to look at the photo of your cat. “He’s cute, can’t blame him.” 

You snort. “I can’t have a Christmas tree 'cause he scales that thing to the top.” 

“So he likes a little fun.” Graves shrugs. “Don’t see nothin’ wrong with that.” 

You shake your head, a little amused. Of course, he would say that. “It’s more than that.” 

“Then tell me.” 

The conversion becomes easy after that. After you stopped insulting him, at least. Anyone who knew you knew the easiest way to get you to open up was through your cat. Maybe the wine is getting to your head, but he’s not so bad. Phillip makes you laugh, you make him laugh. You banter, you rant, you cry, and he understands. He promises you exactly what you’re looking for.

“We don’t play by the rules, darlin’. Believe me, I can get you exactly what you want.” 

You’re gone after that, having split the bottle of wine between the two of you. Any rational thoughts of what’s wrong and right have left your mind. The devil has promised you something, and he always keeps them. And perhaps you’ve promised something you shouldn’t have. 

He pays the bill, he walks you home with a hand on your back, and he stands at your doorway saying ‘goodnight.’ 

But you don’t want to be alone. 

He spends the night. Once. Twice. Three times. Too many to keep track of, but you didn’t care to anymore. Not when you sang Phillip’s praises when he was between your legs, or when he’s bringing you flowers when he sees you, or holding you late at night as you continue to mourn and find comfort in someone like him. 

There’s something warm and fuzzy about him. Something that makes your head spin and your legs weak. You don’t think when he’s around (maybe that’s the problem), but you don’t need to. 

“Never have to worry your pretty head ‘bout a thing darlin’.” Phillip would say, and so you did. 

You let him take care of your plan, your revenge, his promise. You let him take of you, healing some part of you that hadn’t after you lost Johnny. 

At least that’s what you thought, but maybe you got lost along the way, turned around, and headed straight into his arms. 

He made it so easy after all, didn’t he? To believe in him, that is. And you did a fucked up thing, really. A mistake on your part. Phillip had loyalty to no one but his shadows. For you to even think he’d extend that to you? Well, you had to be stupid or in love. 

And you weren’t stupid. 

You storm around your apartment, phone gripped tightly in your hand. You were fucked.

“Are you kidding me?” You practically scream. 

“Darlin’, please, it’s not personal.” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You used me.” You’re practically fuming at him. He was smart, finding you when you were vulnerable, and letting you reach out first. He prayed on your innocence, on your hurt. You damn sure weren’t letting that happen again. 

“Used is such a strong term,” Graves chides. “And really, I didn’t. You’re overreacting sweetness. This has nothing to do with you.” 

“It has everything!” 

You can hear his eye roll through the phone. “Would you just trust me on this?”

“Are you being serious? No! I’m never making that mistake again.” Graves didn’t wear disguises. You should’ve seen right through him. You knew better now. How could you ever have thought to believe him? Someone like him, with only a history of deceiving. You were there when he turned his back on you in Las Almas, at Shepard in the courtroom, and yet you believed him. He was your vice, your flaw, your reason. 

He was horrible in so many ways, but you came back every time. You craved him holding you at night, wiping the tears away. The way he’d kiss you when you would meet up, his hands roaming your body— you’d never felt this way.

“(Y/N),” He drawls and you want to fall for it, but you don’t. 

“No, I’m done. I’m leaving.” 

“Don’t be like this.” 

“You gave me a pretty damn good reason to leave. This is on you.” 

He chuckles through the phone. “If you’d let me explain, you’d see I’m not such a bad guy.” 

You shake your head. “No,” You said firmly. “No, you betrayed me and I betrayed my team.”

What were they going to think of you after this? You weren’t like this, so reckless, engaging with the enemy. No one expected this from you, and you certainly didn’t expect it from yourself, to fall so hard. But you weren’t going down without a fight. 

You bounce back like you always did. “This is the last call we’re having, Graves.” You practically spit his name out and he’s hurt when you hang up. You were always so stubborn with him. So quick to dismiss his reasons, like you’re looking for a reason to hate him. Whatever, you’ll come back. You’ll see he did this for you. He was not a bad guy, he was carrying out the plan you wanted. It just happened he had to screw over a couple people for it. He just didn’t expect you to get so worked up over it. 

You dial the next person, heart thundering. 

“(Y/N)?” A voice calls out, familiar to you and you hope they won’t hate you. That was the last thing you needed right now. You lost Johnny, and now you lost Graves (it’s a good thing you tell yourself, but your heart says otherwise), you couldn’t lose your team too. 

“Kyle, I,” You swallow, tears clouding your vision when you realize what you’ve done. “I fucked up.” 

– END –

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[respectthepetty]

Hii, i have been occupied and wanted to come back to watch BLS, my last one was naughty babe. So what's are your current obsession!?

Anon, you have missed a lot in the last six months! BL Land has had several shows in that time, and, of course, I've consumed most of them. My capability to become obsessed with a show is unparalleled, and as I mentioned in my last obsession list, I can be obsessed about several things simultaneously. Since you've been out for a minute, let me recap some of the shows I sent a Valentine's Day card too.

Note: These are NOT recommendations.

Shows I liked for color reasons but wasn't obsessed:

Twins

Pit Babe

Middleman's Love

My Dear Gangsta Oppa

Bake Me Please (* I AM obsessed with the lead actor, Guide)

Shows I liked for the colors AND the plot but wasn't always obsessed with:

The Sign

Perfect Propose

I Cannot Reach You

7 Days Before Valentine

I Became a Lead in a BL Drama

Shows I should've been obsessed with if I was normal:

Cooking Crush

Love for Love's Sake

Cherry Magic (Thailand)

So now that we recapped some of the shows I was mildly normal about, it's time for me to reveal the shows I'm currently so obsessed with that I cut off some of their hair while they slept and now I'm attaching it to a cloth doll in hopes of binding us together.

For. Ev. Ah.

Dead Friend Forever (forever, forever, ever, forever, ever?)

Obsession Level - Buying us matching BFF necklaces with vials of our blood attached to them after my therapist tells me my relationship with it is unhealthy, and I need to take a step back from it.

It just ended, and it isn't a BL, but I have no words. If I tried to explain why I'm so obsessed with this show, people would be really worried about my sanity. I can't stop thinking about it. I don't want to stop thinking about it. I hate all the characters. I love all the characters. I want them all dead. I want to raise them from the dead and make them do it all again. I want to heal them. I want to make them worse. I want to be in that house with them.

Unknown

Obsession Level - Holding pictures of it close to my heart while I lay in bed even though it is laying right next to me in the same bed because I need it to fully grasp just how crazy about it I am and have been.

It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about "brothers." And if you looked at my previous obsessed list, you know those three items are a clear path to Obsession City for me (Looking at you, Kiseki: Dear to Me).

Anti Reset

Obsession Level - Baking all its favorite sweet treats and sitting them on its porch early in the morning then running away even though I know the security camera is filming me each time (which is why I wear cute outfits when I do it).

It's Taiwanese. It's color coded. It's about a robot. It doesn't hit all the points on my obsession scale, but it's part of Vidol/VBL's universe, so it has my attention and a little bit of my heart.

Lady Boy Friends

OB. SESSED! Level - Knowing it's expired and toxic, but I can't stop eating it because if ending up in the hospital is the price I have to pay and possible death, then I guess that's the sacrifice I gotta make.

It's a remake of a 2015 series, it dropped with no promo, and only one episode has aired, yet this show is hellbent on being a whole ass problem, so of course my trashy ass loves it. There is transphobia, homophobia, sexual harassment, colorism, elitism, and every other -ism that it could pile in because the entire show is begging to be everyone's trigger warning. There is a love story in there somewhere, but I don't give two shits about it when the skinny femmes and the fat femmes are fighting, and the one pictured above is about to enter her villain origin story. The subtitler is doing the Lord's work, and I feel truly blessed with this hot ass mess.

But please remember, one person's trash taste is not another person's treasure, so THESE ARE NOT RECOMMENDATIONS!

[thelittlesorceressbg3]

Deep Dive on Waverly

Since I’m still introducing Waverly to the tumblr community I decided to dig up this old character deep dive that me and @darcydekarios did a while back!

Q: What common/uncommon fear do they have?

A: Thunderstorms. Growing up Waverly always went to her mother for comfort during thunderstorms. After she got kidnapped by the nautiloid and that was no longer an option, Gale quickly became her new safe person. I hc Gale LOVES listening to the rain and thunder while he’s curled up with a book, so he probably has Waverly cuddle up to him while he reads to her.

Q: Do they have any pet peeves?

A: Being treated like a baby. Even though she’s the youngest member of the group (20) and cries a LOT. 😂

Q: What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

A: 1, A quill and notepad. Back in her tower in the upper city Waverly read and drew a lot to pass the time, so she loves writing and drawing. 2, Her teddy bear Gale won for her at the circus. 3, One of Gale’s shirts she stole from him.

Q: What do they notice first in a person?

A: Because of her sheltered upbringing Waverly tends to lack “street smarts”, and can be very naive and trusting. That’s how she got her scar during her adolescent years.

She pays attention to people’s hands and tries to gauge their intentions based on what their hands are doing.

Q: On a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

A: Probably 4. I don’t wanna think she’s a total wimp but at the end of the day she IS still a squishy caster.

Q: Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

A: It would really depend on the context. If it’s to defend someone she loves? Fight.

Q: Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

A: Waverly is an only child; she’s the illegitimate child of a noblewoman and a commoner. She was raised by her mother and never met her father, so for most of her life her mother was the only family she had.

It goes without saying her adventure companions became her found family. Astarion especially is like a big brother to her. He’s constantly teasing her and giving her a hard time but he’ll be one of the first to knife someone if they hurt her. (If her wizard boyfriend doesn’t get to them first!)

Q: What animal represents them best?

A: A bird. Waverly often looks back on her time confined to her tower and compares it to being a bird in a cage. For the first time she’s seeing the world and spreading her wings. ❤

Q: What’s a smell they like/dislike?

A: Likes? Old books and lavender. (Yes, Gale’s smell.)

Dislikes? Probably secondhand smoke from cigars and pipes. (Because same girl)

Although I do headcannon Gale partakes of a pipe even now and again and one night at camp Waverly insists on trying a puff.

Gale: Are you SURE? 🤨

Waverly: Yeah, I can handle it! 🙂‍↕️

Waverly nearly 💀’s.

Q: Have they broken any bones?

A: No, not yet!

Q: How would a stranger likely describe them?

A: Naive, ignorant, “innocent” if they’re going for a nicer sounding word.

Q: Are they a night owl, or a morning bird?

A: Definitely a morning person! A cute contrast to Gale who I hc is hard to get out of bed.

Q: What’s a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

A: She hates ham and how overpowering the flavor is.

She loves sweets, especially fruit filled/flavored desserts. Raspberry is her favorite.

Q: Do they have any hobbies?

A: Writing is her main hobby. She kept a journal all throughout her adventures that she would later use as inspiration for her book series, The Little Sorceress.

Q: Boom! Surprise birthday party! How do they react?

A: Tears. Just fucking waterworks. Everyone there is getting a hug + a little happy crying snot on their shirt.

This is unbelievably cute to imagine when you remember she never had friends or really anyone outside her mother until her 20th year so she’s never had a big party for her birthday before.

Q: Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

A: As a noble who loves to write, definitely neat! Being a sorceress I also imagine she uses mage hand to write once her hand gets tired/she needs her hands free while she writes.

Q: What are two emotions they feel the most?

A: Mushy gushy puppy love whenever she’s around Gale which is almost always.

Happiness. In spite of everything she has a very sunshiny disposition and always tries to be an optimist. It’s one of the reasons everyone in the party would collectively (cancel future birthdays) for her if someone hurts her.

Q: Do they have a favorite fabric?

A: Silk. She loves the feeling of sleeping in it.

Q: What kind of accent do they have?

A: Queen’s English, definitely lilted/sweet/cutesy sounding. (Tav voice 8)

[interlockingpatches]

hello hello! after months of promising myself I would get around to learning how to use your patterns, I've done it- thanks so much for all your patterns being excellently formatted and easy to understand, that is no mean feat!

are the pattern collections on your website in US dollars or Canadian dollars? I had so much fun with the free patterns avaliable I want to make as many as possible, but since I'm not American or Canadian I need to covert prices, especially seeing as most of the pattern collections I'm interested in are pay-what-you-can (not a problem, but I really don't want to undervalue your work by paying something I think is fair but only turns out to be a very small sum after currency changes)

thanks for all your hard work in making the patterns as high quality as they are, they are an absolute joy to use and make :]

Thank you for the kind words and very good question! To answer it succinctly: at this time (2024/10/21) prices on the Gumroad store, including prices you name yourself, should be in US dollars by default and then automatically converted to your home currency on checkout. (If that's *not* the case please tell me!)

Thank you also for giving me a chance to talk through my attempt at sliding-scale pricing, which I worry is stressful and off-putting, however well-intentioned it might be!

All pattern collections have a minimum price (in USD). I set that price, and on free patterns it's set to $0. You can't pay me an "unfair" sum (in any currency) because the interface will not let you.

(If any aspect of "pay-what-you-can" stresses out or irritates you, that's the price! Read no more.)

On most collections, that minimum price is half of a "cover price"—US$10 on average, or about $1/motif, depending on the size and complexity of the patterns. I think that's a "fair" price—if anything, I worry about undercutting finished-object pattern writers, who would normally charge much more on a per-motif basis. But "fair" is not the same as "accessible" or "fun."

If full cover is no hardship, terrific! I'll take it! A lot of people have too much money! But if the minimum (or anything in between) better suits your context, budget or level or commitment, you'll get no judgment from me!

A a heads up I *will* be raising the low end of the sliding scale soon (from 50% to 2/3 of cover price, most likely) because the current pricing scheme isn't quite fair to my small handful of subscribers.

Because—heaven help us—there *is* still a subscription option. I've taken it off the main page while I get caught up on releases, but it's still available via that link. US$12/month gets you access to all patterns plus new ones as they are released, at a pace of roughly 2 collections per month. You lose "vault access" when your subscription ends, but you keep any PDFs you've downloaded.

As a final program note, I want to apologize to anyone who made a purchase while I still had tipping enabled! I had just kind of yeah-sure approved that whenever the option became available, not thinking how positively barbaric it would be to ask someone to name a price and then tack 20% onto it that they have to manually remove! Hideous! Poor form! I'm sorry! Since resolved!

[purple-link]

Alisaie and Purple Link

FFXIV Write 2024 Story Entry

Spoiler: Story takes place after WoL reaches Garlemald in Endwalker, but but before the Tower of Babil dungeon. Story will be largely sfw, but will adhere to FFXIV's level of mature storytelling.

Chapter 14: Telling

On a pillar of rock, dead center of the Yanxia territory, Akimitsu and the Female Lupin that accompanied him on their surveillance of the Doman Enclave sat by themselves to wait.

There were others posted, guards that stood at both the cliffs surrounding, and the foot of, the rocky pillar.

The sun was going down, but as day became night, twilight bloomed into a light blue luminescence. It simultaneously made the land both beautiful and hazardous.

A perfect time for a late-night rendezvous.

“You think he’ll come?” said the Female Lupin, “I don’t like this, Boss Akimitsu. We could have arrows pointed right at our heads.”

“We can take the risk,” said Akimitsu, “Nobody can get close enough to eavesdrop, and it’s dark enough with our pelts that nobody will see us.

"I’m confident I picked a good enough spot.”

“I’m not just talking about strangers,” said the female Lupin, “I’m talking about him. The Wolf Burglar.”

Akimitsu turned to the female Lupin in considerable thought.

“You’re not wrong, Hansha,” said Akimitsu, “I know he would pay out his end of the bargain, but until we know more, we can’t make a move against Hien and his friends.

"We have to take every risk.”

“Suit yourself,” said Hansha, “But if I were you, I’d be looking for another way out. Lord Hien isn’t as ruthless as most other Lords.”

“I can’t afford to take the chance,” said Akimitsu, “We’ve been highwaymen long enough that any amount of amnesty would most likely be followed by swift retribution and incarceration. We’re already living threadbare as it is.

“I would rather risk my liberty than to give it up so easily,” said Akimitsu, “I know you feel the same Hansha. You’ve fought for it long enough.”

“My family has been in this fight for generations,” said Hansha, furrowing her brow, “I’m ready to give my life. I just wish I wasn’t throwing away the chance to raise a family.”

“Hansha, we’ve been friends for years,” said Akimitsu, grinning warmly at her, “I know how important this fight is for you. I guarantee you, this will not be for naught.”

“I hope you’re right, Aki,” said Hansha, smiling, “Because I like the idea. Getting to be free of control, whether it be from Garlemald or Doma, is always worth the chance.”

There was a flurry of wings, and Akimitsu turned to see the Wolf Burglar settling lightly on the edge of the rock, the huge bird digging it’s talons into the ground.

“You’re lucky my bird came back,” said the Wolf Burglar, grumbling, “I’ve had enough of scaling large mountains and hillocks, just to have a silent talk. Why can’t we just go into a bar and say it under our breath?”

“Because none of us can hold our liquor, remember?” said Akimitsu, wryly, “Part of this was your idea, if I remember correctly.”

“I take no responsibility for your little insurrection,” said the Wolf Burglar, growling, “All I said was, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to just live for ourselves for a change?’ and you went and made it into a political statement!”

“Ideas have to start somewhere,” said Akimitsu.

The Wolf Burglar grumbled and then approached Akimitsu, a sense of irritation in his pawsteps. He had his arms folded.

“The payment?” he said, getting right to the point.

“First, the news,” said Akimtsu, sounding very serious, “I want to know where the party is going.”

“Why do you want to know?” said the Wolf Burglar, bluntly, “It doesn’t seem like it’s worth chasing after the Warrior of Light, knowing how easily he would clean your clock.”

“First of all, the Warrior of Light hasn’t fought me, so I would very much doubt that,” said Akimitsu, flexing his muscles slightly, “Secondly, I want to know every movement they make.

"I want to be able to predict where they’re going to go. I want to make sure that wherever they’re headed, I want to get there first.”

“And why in the world would you want to do that?” asked the Wolf Burglar, frankly.

Akimitsu didn’t very much care for his tone.

“That’s a rather probing question,” said Akimitsu, “If I didn’t know any better, one would infer you would rather be working for the Warrior of Light than with me.”

“And what if I do?” said the Wolf Burglar, unflinching, “Should make no nevermind to you. You’re only interested in overthrowing the government, not asking for the personal contact info of individuals.”

“Granted,” said Akimitsu, calmly, “I take no interest in butting into the lives of those who follow the Warrior of Light. His cause is just, and everything we stand for is part of his Curriculum Vitae.

“However, we can’t afford to make mistakes, not this late into the game,” said Akimitsu, “If you can give us any info at all, we can start making some moves against Lord Hien, and make the other Lupin realize that they don’t need his support to stand up for ourselves.”

The Wolf Burglar frowned, and he began to start whispering a lot louder than he meant.

“You would risk open war, again?” said the Wolf Burglar, “After centuries of civil warfare and decades of Empiric conscription, you would undo all that we have done because they’re not partial to your lifestyle?”

Akimitsu very sharply and very curtly began a series of statements that shut the Wolf Burglar’s argument right down.

“We did not ask for this lifestyle!” said Akimitsu, who stopped short of actual shouting, “We should not have to be punished because we don’t conform to their demands!

"The Garlean Empire left us in the dust, and when it came time to return to Doma, our country refused us, all because they would see us as nothing but bandits! I refuse to accept such a label!”

“A lifetime of highway robbery doesn’t excuse every action!” said the Wolf Burglar, “You don’t just get to run away from justice!”

“No I don’t!” retorted Akimitsu, “But you know as well as I, it’s not justice if I’m arrested merely because I’m trying to survive!

"I don’t want this! Hansha doesn’t want this, and I suspect, neither do you!

“Our only chance at freedom is to show them who we are,” said Akimitsu, “and you knew just as well that it is the only way to secure our freedom completely!”

The Wolf Burglar irritably folded his ears back. He folded his arms again. He closed his eyes after a moment of being deep in thought.

“Very well, then,” said the Wolf Burglar, “I have just learned that the name of the ceremony was the “Garo Yasumi.’”

“You mean, it’s a ceremony that has a direct connection to our Lupin ancestors?” said Akimitsu, “It goes as far back as Boss Garo?”

“Yes,” said the Wolf Burglar, “Although we are still looking for the location. We have our suspicions that it’s still in Yanxia, but they’re having us start in the Azim Steppe, because their society has lived up there far longer than those of us who fought for Othard supremacy.”

“That’s good work,” said Akimitsu, smiling, “I shall ask my friends and family for any more information, and the moment we learn anything, we’ll tell you.

"Through the information we collect, we’ll have everything we need to find the location before they do.”

“Why tell me what you know?” said the Wolf Burglar, “That’s like giving the a thief permission to steal your things.”

“Because everything they know will give them hope,” said Akimitsu, “And hope is great motivation. When we learn the location of the ceremony, we’ll be in a good position to do something about it.”

The Wolf Burglar nodded, and then held out his paws. Akimitsu nodded and turned to Hansha, who produced a large sack full of gil. It was more than enough to buy a house, if necessary.

Though with house prices being what they are, you were lucky to get a duplex.

“Keep me posted,” said Akimitsu, handing over the money, “And remember, don’t tell them anything but what we know. Don’t tell them where and how.”

The Wolf Burglar put the sack of money in his pocket and then nodded. He looked glum, but he seemed resolute. Before he flighted off with his bird again, he turned back to him.

“Is there any reason at all why we have to fight Doma?” said the Wolf Burglar, “Is it worth the bloodshed?”

Akimitsu folded his ears back, but not in anger. Guilt was more readily available.

“None at all,” said Akimitsu, “I wish it wasn’t so, but unfortunately, the time for talk is just about over.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” said the Wolf Burglar, and he set off into the sky.

Hansha looked at Akimitsu with concern, a look that he reflected.

“I know,” said Akimitsu, “But there’s no other way.”

“I’m with you, boss,” said Hansha, curling a fist determinedly, “I’m with you all the way!”

…

Peering just above the rock pillar, alongside a rock that sat along the edge of the cliffside, two men sat hunched, avoiding all the patrolling Lupin and watching over the mysterious meeting.

Although they couldn’t hear anything, they could tell where they were, and that they were up to no good.

“Well, that’s it then,” said Isse, one of Namai’s hyurs, “It’s good on you to tell where they were.”

“It was easy,” said Kurobana, one of the village's Lupin, “With these ears and this nose, we find it difficult to avoid each other from a mile away. It was a scent I couldn’t recognize, but I knew it was more Lupin.”

“Well, it was worth it,” said Isse, conspiratorially, “I’m not one for espionage, but I find it difficult to believe a bunch of Glittering Bandits would pick such a high spot for a rendezvous.”

“That thief,” said Kurobana, “would have only to meet them down there, where all the other bandits are.

"The only reason why they'd be up here is because of the possibility that not every bandit in the Glittering Basin would be enthused if they had to hear what they were talking about.”

“Could you hear them?” said Isse, curiously.

“Not clearly,” said Kurobana, “I pointed my ears as best I could, but all I could catch was ‘Garo Festival’ and ‘Azim Steppe.’”

He put his paw on his chin, thoughtfully.

“I wonder if my brother would know…”

“What should we do about this?” said Isse, “This sounds like something the Warrior of Light should know.”

“Hmm…” said the Lupin, looking out at the two bandits stranded on the rock pillar.

“Great, I hadn’t thought this through,” said the male Lupin bandit, watching the female Lupin chuckle at him, “How do we get down from here?”

“You’re right,” said Kurobana, nodding, “The next time we see him, we’ll tell him. In the meantime, I’m going to ask around town about this ‘Garo Festival.’”

To be continued…

[foxwayart]

State of personal affairs (IMPORTANT)

(TL;DR will be towards the bottom for those who don’t wanna read my ramblings, but I’d prefer you did since this is important.) Hey everyone, hope you’re all doing well, I’ll cut to the point by saying that I am not. For the past… We’ll say couple of months I’ve been on something of a mental health spiral, and it hasn’t really gotten any better save for my time at the Con. Which was a nice, but very brief reprieve. The whys of this dip in my well being are pretty varied, and some of it I’m not really able to talk about, whether for personal reasons or respect for others. But to put it broadly, work has been stressful, home has been stressful, my health has been stressful, everything has been stressful, and as it stands I don’t think I can keep up with things right now. So I’m taking a small break from working on commissions, and allowing myself a bit more breathing room when it comes to my streams (which is to say the next few streams may be much smaller scale, more chill chatting streams.)  

Now before any of you who commissioned me recently panic: With my current comms I will still be updating you guys, just at a slower rate than normal, I don’t intend to leave you guys in the lurch. But if by the time I’m done with them I still feel this bad, I probably won’t reopen my queue like I’ve been doing nonstop for the past while now. At least if I can financially help it… Streams like I said are gonna be a bit more lax. I’ll probably finish Pinkie Tower, but after that? I dunno, chatting and maybe some light doodling. Dunno how this will affect Sinner’s Saturday since some kind of income would be nice, but this week we’re definitely doing something different, just have to figure out what.  And yes, I still owe you guys that Discord movie night, we’ll be doing that soon. As for how long this time off is gonna be? No clue, it might only be a few days honestly, but the longest I’m giving myself is two weeks cause I just can’t afford any longer than that. And speaking of “affording”, it’s time for literally my least favourite part of the job. The shilling™️. I probably won’t really be making much if any money during this period, so if you ever wanted to support my work with a nice tip. Now would be the time. You have no idea how much even a small tip of a few dollars can help.https://ko-fi.com/foxweyman I’m not gonna sugar coat this folks. I make peanuts on my work. That’s no one’s fault, it's just the nature of being both a small artist and streamer, it’s something I’ve come to peace with as a fact of my career choices. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t stress me out. Part of why I can never usually take breaks at all is because I literally can’t afford to.

I have rent to pay, phone bills, internet, electricity bills, hormone pills, pet expenses including; food, potential vet visits, toys, poo bags, cat litter, etc. I have to have money saved up incase of an emergency whether personal or work related (computer parts need replacing, tablet needs replacing etc), then there's house expenses; food, toilet paper, cleaning supplies; replacing anything we need etc. It’s a lot, even with our packed house.

The only reason I'm able to go to Furnal Equinox or Canfurence is because I start saving up money month after month after month as a treat to myself, and even when there I tend to bring my work so I can get my commission queue done faster and reopen them again as soon as the con is done.

I’ve been told to raise my prices but let’s be honest, I’m not at the level where I can charge hundreds upon hundreds of dollars for pieces, and while this may be a pessimistic view of my work, I probably won’t be able to any time soon. Same with stream goals, I don’t feel like there’s much I can offer right now that would be worth $500 goals or something.

I’d open a merch shop or something but that would be even more stressful upkeep, and again let’s be real. My reach isn’t big enough for that and you can only sell the same merch to the same customer base for so long.

I apologize if it seems like I’m ragging on about the money, but of all the things I’m dealing with it’s the easiest to talk about because it’s something I think at least a few of you can relate to. That and the more personal troubles cut a bit deeper and I’m not sure I even really wanna talk about them because I don’t like dragging you guys down with me. We’ve made an awesome little community and I don’t need to be hurting you with my problems. Is that the healthiest way of looking at it? No probably not but there it is.

Above all that though I just want some more time to myself and the people I care about, not fretting every second that “I could be working” or “I could be monetizing this”, instead of focusing on improving my mental health so I can be a better creator for you guys, and a better person for me. I wanna draw for myself again,even if it’s just low stakes doodles or barely cohesive comic pages, or hell even just to work on my poor draftwomanship .I wanna let myself play some games and not think “Oh I have to stream this”,  every time I do. I wanna be able to go out with my loved ones and not constantly be thinking “WHY AM I NOT WORKING ON COMMISSIONS???”

So TL;DR taking a light break, not sure how long exactly, will keep current customers in the loop, streams aren’t going anywhere but may be a bit different, please tip to the ko-fi so I can stay afloat during this time https://ko-fi.com/foxweyman

For those that read through, thank you so much, it means the world that you care enough about my mental health to drudge through my ravings. You’re truly the best part of this job. A wonderful community that I can just chat and be honest with, I can laugh and joke with you all without fear or anxiety. That’s exceedingly rare these days and I couldn’t be more appreciative of you lot.

That in mind, this took awhile to write, my hands are hurting, and I wanna go lie down, maybe allow myself a good cry. Thanks everyone. <3

- Blaire,“Drfoxweyman”��

[lionews]

TyCoon here. Remade a blog a while back just to read the occasional Tumblr post someone sent me. Gonna correct some of these rumors and confirm some of these rumors.

First, I did not send anyone 5,000 GB.... Why would I? Why would anyone? I may be guilty of sending that in total to a couple specific artists, but that wasn't gifts... It was for art.

As for art, saying I brag about getting cheap art and give bad tips couldn't be further from the truth. Much less swindling artists? I am one of two owners of to my knowledge the largest art-based Lioden clan/discord server, we have our own little community here and I've seen many people raise prices after joining because they get bombarded with commissions and raise their prices because they have been told they can. Even putting that aside, I regularly pay 100, 200, hell lately 500 GB for a single character/commision is becoming concerningly common for me.

Also, good try calling me out for buying currency. Have fun calling out a fourth of LD, especially during Feb.

I offer on trades once then hide them, with few exceptions. And I rarely mess with GB to SB exchange rates, I primarily focus on breeding items.

And now the big one! Claiming I'm driving prices up. This one actually made me laugh out loud. First off, 3 years is a long time and 3 years of inflation is a lot. Prices across the board have went up in those three years, and while I can affect some things I do not have that kind of control over LD. No, the truth of it is that I have been driving prices up in season! But out of season, I've been driving prices down. So things sell for more now during the event, and less out of it! If anything I've hurt myself more than anyone else with this. Profit margins have decreased by half, probably more since I started playing the game. And I can't even claim credit for all of it, it's a group effort!

This Feb for example, I set my prices after watching the market. I didn't decide prices or change them at all. But when I did, back in October I had over 20k GB to spend, and I did. I specifically drove crunchy prices up to 20 GB, and multiple people followed my example. Crunchy prices stayed at 20 until I ran out of GB, then for the last week they dropped down to 18-19 and stayed there for months. Shot myself in the foot with that one!

This isn't even mentioning the half dozen people that have similar amounts of GB as me and do pretty much the same thing as I do. And then the dozens that have 1, 2, 3+k GB and do what I do on a smaller scale.

Anyway. TLDR; 5000 GB gift fake, I spend a thousand+ GB on art a month, I run one of the biggest art LD clans/discords, everyone buys currency or items, and I'm driving prices up in season and down our of season which is far better for the average player and far worse for big sellers such as me, of which there are many and I'm just the most visible one.

.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Mask-a-Raid: Part 2

GAGH! Ugh...!? W-Would it kill you to stop running around and slinging me about like I’m your god-damn backpack!?

No...But I find it very entertaining.

*THUD!*

UHUGH!

*After scaling a small Hokkaido building with his package, Matta unstraps Kanade from his back and throws her onto the ground. He then takes something out of his pocket and speaks into it.

...Tsutsuji? I’m going to need a pickup from my current location.

Woman’s Voice: Matta? Wait, what’s this about?

I’m with Kanade Otonokoji, I just rescued her as Shirogane desired. You yourself reccomended that I do this, remember?

But this was a mostly solo mission so I’ll need you to take me to safety. Drop Zetsubou a pin of my current whereabouts.

Woman’s Voice: *sigh* Alright...But next time give me advance warning, why don’t you? I can’t be here to oversee your missions all the time.

Hmph...I’m still glad I have you around.

GYALUSETSU!

...

*Matta disapprovingly raises his head after hearing this angry scream. He turns around to see Kuripa and Kaede fly up to him on Kaede’s spear.

Over and out...

*He hangs up his call with the mysterious woman, then faces them.

Why don’t either of you just give it a rest?

Hehh...Never...!

I’ve put up with too much lately for you to just grab that psycho and make off with her! I don’t care what Zetsubou needs her for, I’m just not letting it happen!

Admirable, I’ll admit...But I must ask...

You really hate psychotic murderers, correct?

Of course!

Then why side with THAT guy and a Monokub?

!!?

Don’t compare Kuripa to her! Why wouldn’t I side with him after everything he’s done for me!?

Does that include almost killing you in America?

!!??

...

Yeah...I knew about it...When the same man spends his life trying to hunt you down, you learn to keep track of his movements.

I can’t fathom why you would continue to place faith in a man who would not only hurt you so horribly, but would do so again in a heartbeat if the ends justified his selfish means.

...I...

Besides...It’s not as if you have any reason to spite me. Zetsubou are becoming increasingly unreliable, and it’s not as if you’ve wronged me in any way.

What are you getting at?

I’m saying...don’t give me a reason to HURT you...!

Too late for that. You’re rescuing Otonokoji AND you killed Kuripa’s sister! 

That’s more than enough of a reason for me to hate you!

And how many sisters do you think HE’S killed?

How many lives do you think he’s trampled on as part of his personal revenge story against the world? How many family’s do you think he’s ripped apart?

...

Kurafto doesn’t care how many people pay the price so long as I am one of them. And you still choose to place your faith in-

Just SHUT UP!

!!?

!!?

Kuripa has NEVER killed an innocent, or hurt someone without good reason! I STARTED that fight!

These last few days have been a real eye-opener for me...And I’ve come to realize something.

Lots of bad things have happened in my life recently...and I’ve learned firsthand that there’s no way I can completely deal with them and overcome them!

But that’s because no matter what, I can’t deal with anything by myself! And I trust in the good nature of humanity and BELIEVE in people, no matter what they’ve done.

Akamatsu...!

...

...

We move forward in life together...Or we don’t move forward at all...!

...

That’s adorable...

In that case, you can SUFFER with him!

*PTCHOO!* *PTCHOO!*

!!?

!!?

Hraugh!

Gugh! 

Agh!

*SSSLLAAAMM!*

BAAAAGH!?

*Matta grapple shots Kaede and Kuripa, yanks them both forward and pummels them into the ground!

Hrrugh! I’LL KILL YOOOUUU!!

*WHAM!*

...!

*Kuripa kicks Matta in the stomach, but he just leaps back, seemingly unphased. Kuripa immediately lurches to his feet and rushes at him, brandishing his blade!

*KER-SHUNK!*

*SLASH!* *CRASH!*

Yrrgh!

*WHOOSH!*

Gah...!

*Matta suddenly suddenly whips out a pair of scimitar swords and crosses blades with Kuripa! They block, parry and dodge each other’s attacks until Matta brings both blades down on Kuripa, forcing him to block.

Even if you were serious about protecting that girl, you CAN’T protect her forever!

Then it’s a good thing she doesn’t NEED my protection!

Hm?

*WHAM!*

Gah!

*Kuripa nods behind him, and Matta looks up in time to see Kaede soaring straight at him. With her weapon in bludgeoning mode, she slams right into him, knocking him back.

Hup!

Thanks.

No worries.

So, Gyalu-shit-su!

Gyalu-shit-su? What am I, a puppy dog?

I’ve never been able to successfully match you, but what about now!? Feel like you wanna take on both of us at the same time!?

Come at us!

*They brandish their weapons confidently.

...

No, I think I’ll just leave...

We’ll see about-

Wait, wha-?

So long...

*WHOOSH!*

WAAGH!

HEY! GET BACK HERE, YOU MASKED BASTARD!

*Matta suddenly grabs Kanade and jumps off the roof of the building. Kaede and Kuripa grab hold of the former’s weapon and fly after him to give chase.

Hup!

*With Kanade once again slung round his shoulder, he jumps down onto the highway and on top of a speeding delivery truck. He groans as he sees them fly after him

Gagh...That weapon is very annoying...!

You get that side, I’ll get this side!

Right!

*CLASH!*

HRGH!

*Kaede flips over Matta and she and Kuripa strike him simultaneously from both sides. 

Oh boy, this is gonna be super rough! Kanade likey~!

H-Hold on time out.

Wha-!?

*Matta casually pushes Kuripa and Kaede back and sheathes his weapons.

*SMACK!*

GUGH!

!!??

*He smacks Kanade’s head behind him and knocks her out instantly.

I could do without the running commentary...Anyway, where were we?

*WHAM!*

AGH! NOFAIRIWASNTREAADAAAAY!

*CRASH!*

Civilian: AAGH!

Sorry!

*Matta kicks Kuripa and sends him flying back into the vehicle behind. He crashes into the car’s window and thankfully, doesn’t injure the driver.

You-!

*CLASH!* *BASH!* *SMASH!*

*Now on her own while Kuripa jumps back onto the truck and tries to rejoin her, Kaede starts to cross swords with Matta.

*CLASH!*

Gugh!

How long will it be before you fall down that path too, Kaede Akamatsu!?

Wha-?

If you continue to follow this man’s guidance, he will corrupt you. Turn you into his own remnant...And you’re still following him, even knowing that?

You don’t know...a DAMN thing about him! OR about the nature of people!

Kuripa and Monodam...Don’t you DARE DISRESPECT THEM!

*CLASH!*

...!

*Kaede shoves forward, deflecting and parrying Matta’s blade, but he simply takes a few steps back and stands up straight.

Kuripa is unruly and violent, but I’m not the same.

We’re from two different walks of life, but I will support him. But I will never follow his goals or be like him.

You say that now...But words mean little...

I can see it in the way you fight...For someone who carries such an air of grace around her, I cannot say the same for your battle prowess...

Your movements are unrefined...amateurish...sloppy...!

Just SHUT THE HELL UP!

*WHOOOSH!*

...!

*Kaede tosses her spear in Javelin mode and it soars straight towards Matta on the other side of the truck...But...

*CATCH!*

...Hm...Like I said...sloppy...!

!!??

*Kaede stars in horror, as Matta catches her full-force weapon between two of his fingers.

That’s...That’s not possible...!? 

What...What the hell...ARE you...!?

I’ll say it once again, you misguided little girl...

I EXIST to DEFY the impossible…!

*CRRUUUNNCH!*

!!!???

*Kaede’s heart sinks, as Matta effortlessly crushes the Mozart MK2 between his fingers...!

*CLUNK!* *KER-CLUNK!*

*The split pieces of the spear fizzle and clunk down on top of the truck. She tries to recall them, but the spear is well and truly broken.

Not so powerful without your little toys, are you?

Grrgh! GRAAAAAGGH!!

*WHAAM!*

GUUGH!!?

*Kaede screams defiantly and rushes towards Matta with a clenched fist, but she is effortlessly kicked in the chest and knocked down, wind knocked from her lungs.

Guugh...RUUAAGH!

Hmph.

*PTCHOO!* *PANG!*

BAHAAGH!?

*Kaede still doesn’t give up, and forces herself up to attack again. This time however, Matta fires his grapple shot and yanks an iron pipe from a truck next to them on the highway forward! It flies towards them and smacks Kaede in the head, knocking her down again!

Aah...Agh...*COUGH!* Ngh...!

...

*Her vision clouded, with the remaining pieces of her spear in front of her, Kaede stars up at Matta, who points a pistol down at her face.

Remember this, Kaede Akamatsu...You didn’t have to-

*PUNK!*

...

...

*Kaede throws one of her spear pieces at Matta. It hits him in the mask and cuts him off.

...

You didn’t have to go through with this.

*CLICK!*

!!?

*He cocks the pistol, but right before he can fire...

HYAAGH!

CHAAGH!?

*WHAAAM!*

*Kuripa recovers, clambers back onto the truck and tackles him to the ground!

*SMACK!* *WHAM!* *SMACK!* *CRACK* *WHACK!* *PUNK!* *WHAM!* *BAM!* *SMASH!* *WALLOP!*

YOU! AREN’T! GONNA! TAKE! ANOTHER! SISTER! FROM! MEEEEEEE!!!

Gragh! GAAGH!

*Kuripa LAYS WASTE to Matta, punching him in the face and chest over and over, and adding in a headbutt for good measure!

RAAAGGH!

*WHACK!*

OOPH!

*Matta lifts his leg and knees Kuripa in the gut, forcing him off of him. He flips and recovers, unsheathing his blades once again. Kuripa gets to his feet and claps his hands together.

Akamatsu GET UP!

But I-!

I NEED you, ok!?

...!?

...

...

Alright...We take him together!

[isolatednights]

➹ Minka Kelly

send me a ➹ and a fc ;; i'll create a character on the spot ( ACCEPTING )

NAME. slyvie van de meer

DATE OF BIRTH. december 7th

PARENTS. rafi van de meer & aisling van de meer nee monet

BIRTH ORDER & SIBLINGS.

maxim (first born, older brother), sven (second born, older brother), sylvie (third born), matheo (fourth born, younger brother & twin to ailenor), ailenor (fifth born, younger sister & twin to matheo)

HOMETOWN.

crestwick - a city located on the coastline of northern california. surrounded by dense redwood forests, jagged cliffs and the ocean, the one tourism driven town exploded in size and notoriety following the appearance of GATES. slyvie and her family reside within northerncrest, the original bones of the town that remain located on the upper cliffs, looking over the city and sprawling forest alike.

UNIVERSE BLURB.

( because its currently living rent free in my head, this is based off this animated series ; i had chatgpt summarize it because the wiki doesn't give great background )

one day, without warning, strange dimensional cracks — called GATES — began appearing all over the world. no one knew why or how it started. each gate was a portal connecting Earth to dangerous dungeons filled with monsters.

at first, humanity was completely unprepared. when a Gate opened and wasn’t cleared in time, it would BREAK, allowing hordes of deadly monsters to spill into cities, causing chaos, destruction, and massive loss of life. civilization was on the brink of collapse.

but alongside the appearance of GATES, something else happened: some humans AWAKENED special powers. these people were called HUNTERS. they were categorized into ranks, from the weak E-rank to the near-godlike S-rank. hunters became humanity’s only defense against the monsters inside the GATES.

governments around the world quickly adapted, forming hunter associations to regulate these new beings, license dungeon raids, and manage the crisis. GUILDS formed, led by powerful hunters, and the strongest ones gained celebrity status. even so, the threat was constant — new gates could appear anywhere at any time, and no two were exactly the same.

the early days after the gates first appeared were chaotic, brutal, and terrifying, but they forced humanity into a new, dangerous era — one where strength ruled, and ordinary life was forever changed.

SLYVIE'S BACKGROUND.

with each passing generation, GATE's have grown stronger, calling for more involvement of higher rank hunters. in hopes of both balancing the scales, there has been a noticeable uptick in rank-marriages. the union of two high-ranked hunters for the purpose of reproducing the next generation of impressive hunters. rafi van de meer, an A-rank mage, met aisling monet, an S-rank healer, for the first time as they sat across a boardroom table as their families negotiated a contract between them. their marriage would not only tie the power of the growing van de meer guild ( dominion's reach ) with the old wealth of the monet name, but two high-ranking hunters. though the arrangement would prove prosperous - for both the guild ( which grew in size, eventually expanding to have an american branch located in crestwick ) and children ( with five children ranging from S to B rank ) their marriage would remain loveless from start to finish. with parents busy running the guild within crestwick, slyvie was largely raised by a nanny and various other household staff, her parents only beginning to pay attention to their children as they awakened. with most of her siblings falling somewhere between A to D rank, slyvie had her awakening later in life than most, coming shortly after her seventeenth birthday, an C-rank portal BROKE and the monsters that were meant to be dealt with by a second-rate guild failed to clear crawled onto the streets of the city. having been celebrating with some of the staff she considered to be family over her own fame-seeking siblings or absent parents, something in the woman snapped when her nanny ( abigail ) was injured. with her new awakening and appointed S-rank, additional issues began cropping up within her family ; jealousy and hatred from other siblings, and expectations from her parents to join the dominion's reach guild. there were months of arguing ; of slyvie not even knowing if she even wanted to be a hunter or not. eventually, she left her family home and joined a separate guild entirely - causing a large scandal. she currently works for the newer IRONSPIRE GUILD as their only S-rank.

PROFESSION.

S-rank hunter. necromancy type ; following the death of an enemy ( or even any ally ) on the battlefield, slyvie is capable of extracting their shadows, turning them into members of her own army. these shadowed versions maintain any abilities they possessed while alive, and while some may carry a level of intellect, they're unable to speak and obey sylvie's command faithfully. she appears to maintain a balance within her shadows, capable of making up her own STRIKE TEAM, consisting of a tank, mage, healer, assassin type and two fighters. at present, she is only capable of having seven summons, but given her fighters currently require a fair amount of mana, she only tends to summon six.

[lapinebuccaneer]

Chapter 3: If I Were Bandits, Where Would I Hide?

The eastern sun cast long shadows through the ancient forest as the party made their way from the grounded Cloudstrider back toward Tensin village. Captain Ralynn Fargoer's golden fur gleamed in the dappled morning light, her floppy ears twitching at every sound. Despite her diminutive stature, the rabbit moved with the assured stride of someone accustomed to command.

"So, a mystery box an’ a mage -- a Talan mage, at that -- quite the braw quest," she mused, her brogue rolling the r's. "I’d give a fair penny tae know what’s in that box, but my mother raised nae fool. Tantalizin’, all the same."

“Psssh, “ Elspeth huffed amiably, “What’s in that box is likely worth far more than he’s paying, but who’s going to buy? Do you know a rare, possibly cursed, magic item fence that will touch anything that might bring Talan to their doorstep with a ten-foot pole?”

“That I do’na have. So, that settles that. The box is worth more tae us unopened and returned as asked. Noo, we just have tae find these manky bandits and retrieve the bonny thing.”

Behind her, Jac's massive polar bear frame crashed through the underbrush with considerably less grace. Kroshka, the small squirrel kit, rode upon her adoptive mother's broad shoulders, tiny paws clinging to Jac's thick white fur.

"Mama, are we going to catch bad guys?" Kroshka asked, her voice bright with childish excitement as the wind of Jac’s motion ruffled her fur.

Jac reached up with one massive paw to steady her daughter. "Da, little one. But first, we find safe place for you. Bandits are not for small kits."

"I'm not that small," Kroshka protested, puffing out her big fuzzy cheeks.

Clarence, the grizzled gray wolf, sniffed the air and growled low in his throat. "We're wasting time. Get me to the attack site. I bet I can find their scent trail in less time than it takes you talk about it."

"And I say we find Kroshka safe place first," Jac insisted, her accent thickening with maternal concern. "Then we hunt bandits."

Elspeth's silver scales gleamed as she flicked her forked tongue, tasting the air. "I agree with the bear. The kit will slow us down if things get... messy." A thin wisp of smoke curled from her nostrils, betraying her agitation.

“If I’m honest, a safe place would have been on the ship, “ The dragonkin said frankly, “not sure why she didn’t stay there.”

“NO!” Kroshka yelled,”No, me an’ Mama Jac stick together!”

“She has… abandonment fears, “ Jac rumbled gently, stroking the young kit to calm her, “Here, she stay in Inn but is at least closer. The airship, it goes away, who knows if it comes back. That is her fear. I know is not convenient, I apologize. Not easy, motherhood, sometimes.”

Rose, the gentle-eyed deer doe, placed a hand on Jac's arm. "No need to apologize. A child needs their mother, of course. We'll find somewhere safe for her, I promise. The village should have families who could watch her while we're away."

Ralynn nodded decisively. "Aye, back tae the Copper Kettle. Ferris may be a cantankerous ol' rabbit, but his daughter seemed decent enough."

The Copper Kettle Inn was a welcome sight as they approached. Light shone from the windows, the pure white of shardlights, small crystals enchanted in a similar way to those that allowed the Cloudstrider to fly. These, however, were spelled to shine with varying degrees of brightness. They were somewhat common in larger buildings and rich cities, though urban areas and the less wealthy still made do with candle and lantern.

Ferris looked up from behind the bar at the sound of their entrance, his scowl deepening at the sight of the returning airship crew. "Back again? Thought we’d be rid of ye by now."

"Charmin’ as ever," Ralynn replied dryly. "We need someone tae look after the wean while we're on business." She gestured toward Kroshka, who peered around Jac's massive leg with large, curious eyes.

The innkeeper's whiskers twitched with displeasure. "This ain't a nursery."

Before the conversation could devolve further, his daughter Kisa emerged from the back room, wiping her paws on her apron. "Father, do we have gu...." Her face brightened at the sight of the returning guests.

"You're back!" she exclaimed, then noticed Kroshka. "And who's this little one?"

"This is Kroshka," Jac said, her deep voice softened with maternal pride. "My daughter. We need someone to watch her while we..." She glanced at the other patrons. "While we handle business."

Ferris slammed a dirty mug down on the counter. "Absolutely not. We're not babysitters!"

Kisa shot her father a reproachful look. "Father, please." She turned back to Jac with a gentle smile. "I'd be happy to look after her. I've younger siblings I've helped raise."

"For an additional fee, of course," Ferris interjected, mercenary instincts overriding his objections.

What followed was a brisk negotiation between the innkeeper and Ralynn, the golden rabbit shrewd and almost gleeful in bartering. Eventually, they settled on a price that made Ferris's ears twitch with reluctant satisfaction and Ralynn mutter something about "highway robbery being less expensive." Unnoticed, the mother bear passed Kisa a small but full pouch that clinked slightly as she deposited it in the young doe rabbit’s paw with a wink.

While Jac knelt to eye level with Kroshka, explaining that she would return soon, Ralynn pulled Kisa aside.

"Any word about these bandits while we were gone?" she asked quietly.

Kisa glanced around, then leaned in. "Farmer Joaner Schletbauer found the wreckage from the last caravan they attacked, his wife Jenna was in town this morning and she was all a fluster about it, and I don’t blame her with villains and thieves practically right at her doorstep! Elder Tay of the village council might know more."

Clarence's ears perked up at this information. "Where can we find this Elder Tay?"

"He'll be in the council hall at this hour," Kisa replied. "Stone building in the village center. Can't miss it."

Elspeth, who had been studying the room's other patrons with faintly predatory interest, rejoined the group. "Then what are we waiting for?"

Rose knelt beside Jac and Kroshka, her gentle voice soothing. "We'll return before you know it, little one. And I've made you something." She pressed a small pouch into Kroshka's paws. "Some herbs to put under your pillow. They'll bring good dreams."

Tears welled in Kroshka's eyes, but she nodded her fuzzy gray head bravely. "Catch all the bad guys, Mama. Then we can go home to the sky again."

Jac enveloped her daughter in a bone-crushing hug, her own eyes suspiciously moist. "Da, malenkiy. We fix ship, we go back to sky." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Elder Tay proved disappointingly ignorant about the bandits' specific whereabouts, though he confirmed that Joaner Schletbauer was indeed the one who had discovered the aftermath of their most recent attack.

"Twenty minutes west of the village," the elderly badger had told them, gesturing vaguely. "Can't miss his farm -- only one with that blasted stubborn donkey that brays all hours." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They found the farm exactly where Tay had indicated, by following the donkey, though it took considerable pounding on the door before anyone responded.

"Who's there?" called an elderly female voice, suspicion evident in every syllable. HEE-HAAWWW

"Travelers seekin’ information about the bandit attacks," Ralynn replied, standing on her tiptoes to project her voice better. "Elder Tay sent us tae speak with Joaner." HEEEEEE-HAW

A long pause followed before the voice returned. "He's in the back field. Follow the path 'round the house." HEE-HAW-HEE-HAW

They found Joaner, an aging hare with a pronounced limp, struggling to urge his donkey into pulling a plow. The donkey, for his part, seemed to have mastered the fine art of appearing to try while accomplishing absolutely nothing. Any time the plow fell over, the beast simply watched the farmer’s tribulation with impassive amusement, braying regularly apparently for his own purposes, and flicking his tail from time to time to drive away flies.

"Ye pull a plow like that, y'might as well be pushin’ it yersel’," Ralynn commented as they approached. HEE-HAW

Joaner started, then scowled. "Don't need strangers telling me how to handle my own beast." Voice surly and quarrelsome, his eyes narrowed as he took in their appearance. "You'd be them airship folk, then? ‘Bout all Jenna talked about this morning was how that Brenner boy up at the Kettle told her a Talan mage and some sky folk was gonna come kill our bandits." He spit on the ground casually, whether in comment to this idea or out of biological necessity it was hard to say. HAW-HEE-HAW-HEE

Clarence stepped forward, his gruff demeanor softening slightly as he addressed the farmer. "That’s right. We're tracking the bandits who've been troubling your village. Heard you found what was left of their last attack." HAW-HAWWW

Joaner's ears flattened momentarily before perking up with evident interest. "Aye, found it on my way back from my friend Jonas Guterbauer's place." He launched into a meandering tale filled with irrelevant details about Jonas's failing eyesight, his own bunions, and the weather patterns of the past month. HEE-HEE-HAWW

Rose listened patiently, nodding at appropriate intervals, while Elspeth's tail lashed with growing irritation, thin tendrils of smoke occasionally escaping her nostrils. HEEEEE-HAAAAWWWW

"The wreckage," Ralynn finally interrupted, even her love of tales exhausted by the rambling story (or perhaps it was the donkey). "Where exactly did ye find it?" HAWW-HEEE-HAWW-HAWWW

Joaner blinked, then pointed westward. "Down the road about an hour, then take the first dirt trail to the left. Big oak right at the trail, you’ll see it. Follow that another twenty minutes or so. Can't miss it -- unless you're blind as old Jonas, o' course." His reedy guffaw and the donkeys bray followed them as they turned and headed westward. HEEEEE-HAAAWWWWW

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The site of the caravan attack was a grim tableau. Splintered wood from wagon wheels, scorched earth, and dark stains spoke of violence and theft. The group spread out, searching for any clue that might lead them to the bandits' hideout.

"Tracks here," Clarence growled, his nose close to the ground. The old wolf's tracking skills proved invaluable as he followed scent trails invisible to the others, and reached out with his Druid craft to find even subtler signs. "Multiple individuals. Some large, some small. Heading East and South."

"South-East?" Ralynn's brow furrowed. "That would take them back toward the forest where we crashed."

"Da," Jac nodded, "but forest is big. Many places to hide."

Rose looked sadly at the ruin of the wagon, eyes red as small tears fell from her large eyes. “So cruel. So meaningless. I hate these men. May the Celestial Sky guide us towards those who deserve justice.

They followed Clarence's lead, the wolf occasionally dropping to all fours to confirm the scent trail. After nearly an hour, he halted abruptly, raising one paw for silence.

"We're close," he whispered. "Very close."

Elspeth slipped forward, her natural grace making her movement nearly silent. She paused, her keen eyes scanning the trees ahead. "There," she murmured, pointing. "A sentry."

In a tree approximately one hundred feet ahead, a glint of metal caught the sunlight -- a knife blade, wielded by a figure partially hidden among the branches. A squirrel? Clever.

"We need tae get past withoot bein’ seen," Ralynn whispered. "Any suggestions?"

Clarence rummaged in his pack, producing a small vial of shimmering liquid. "Invisibility potion. Had it for emergencies. Only enough for one of us, though."

"I'll go," Elspeth volunteered immediately. "I'm the quietest, and I know what to look for."

Jac frowned. "Is dangerous. But we need information."

After a brief conference, they agreed. Elspeth downed the potion, her silver scales shimmering briefly before she vanished from sight. Only a faint disturbance in the underbrush marked her passage as she slipped toward the bandit camp.

The remaining party members concealed themselves as best they could, waiting anxiously. Rose focused on maintaining a subtle protective charm, while Clarence prepared defensive wards. Jac, her massive frame difficult to hide completely, hunched behind the tangled roots and dirt of a fallen tree, while Ralynn used her small size to advantage, almost disappearing in a thicket of ferns.

Time stretched uncomfortably. The sun began to set, casting longer shadows through the forest. The sentry in the tree was replaced by another -- this one, a tabby cat, more alert and diligent than her predecessor.

Almost a full hour, the duration of the potion’s effects, passed. There had been no sound of alarm, but just as Ralynn was beginning to fear something had gone, or would soon go, wrong, a barely perceptible movement beside her revealed Elspeth's return -- the lithe dragonkin literally fading into view as she settled into place. Nae doubt aboot it. The lass is good.

"Six bandits in the camp," the Elspeth reported in a hushed voice. "Ramshackle huts surrounding one larger, more solid building. I found the lockbox in the main building -- there was a bandit inside, jaguar, apparently sleeping in his bed. I took the box, but had to move slowly to avoid detection."

She produced the green metal container from her pack, her scaled lips curving in a satisfied smile.

"Excellent work," Ralynn whispered. "Let's withdraw quietly and.... "

Her words were cut short by a tremendous crash from Jac's direction. The polar bear had shifted position and lost her balance, tumbling into a dense bush with all the subtlety of an avalanche.

The new sentry's head snapped toward the sound. "Who's there?" he bawled, then hissed while drawing a short sword.

"Blyat," Jac cursed, struggling to extricate herself from the tangled vegetation.

"Intruders!" the sentry shouted. "Intruders! To arms!"

Figures emerged from the huts, beasts of many kinds, weapons drawn. The element of surprise thoroughly destroyed, Ralynn drew her own blade.

"Sae much fer the quiet approach," she sighed, her brogue thickening as it always did in moments of stress. "Time tae earn the bounty, crew!”

Chaos erupted. Jac charged forward with a roar that seemed to shake the forest itself, her massive paws swatting aside the first bandit foolish enough to approach her. Clarence unleashed a spell that entangled two others in writhing vines, while Rose maintained a protective barrier around herself and Ralynn.

Elspeth, fully visible now, demonstrated why dragonkin were feared in combat, her natural agility complemented by vicious claw strikes, rapier stabs, and a jet of flame that sent bandits scattering for cover.

"Take’em alive if ye can!" Ralynn commanded, ducking beneath a wild sword swing before delivering a precise counterstrike that dropped her opponent.

The skirmish was brief but intense. When it ended, three bandits, two stoats and a shrew, lay dead, while Jac had successfully subdued two others, the tabby cat and the squirrel -- one under each massive paw -- and a third, a fox, had thrown down his weapon in surrender after witnessing the bear's frightening efficiency.

"Bind’em," Ralynn ordered, her breathing heavy but controlled. "An’ let's see who’s sleepin’ in that big hut."

Inside, they found not a sleeping jaguar but an unconscious one. His body bore evidence of severe injuries -- massive bruising and burns that suggested he'd survived something few would have walked away from.

Rose knelt at his bedside, her healer's instincts overriding caution. "These wounds are days old, but severe. He should be dead." Her hands glowed with soft light as she channeled healing energy, enough to stabilize but not fully restore him.

The man's eyes snapped open, immediately wide with alarm. "Wha...? Who in blazes are you?!" he snarled, attempting to rise before pain forced him back down.

"The folks who just took yer camp," Ralynn replied evenly. "’Twilight Tom’, I assume?” The rabbit doe spiked the name with a dash of mockery, “We've some questions aboot a certain green lockbox."

The man's eyes darted to the container in Elspeth's claws, and his expression twisted with rage. "You have no idea what you're meddling with."

Elspeth leaned closer, smoke curling from her nostrils. "Then enlighten us."

When the man responded with a string of colorful obscenities, Elspeth's patience -- never her strong suit -- evaporated. She exhaled a small but intensely hot flame that singed the fur on his arm.

"That was a warning," she hissed. "The next one removes the limb."

The combination of pain and fear loosened his tongue. "You're biting off more than you can chew," he gasped. "I'm not some random bandit. I'm with The Cabal."

The name caused Elspeth's scales to darken slightly -- the dragonkin equivalent of blanching. She fought to keep any sign of her sudden anxiety out of her voice, "The Cabal? You? Seems unlikely. I’m quite sure they’d toss you out for the name alone."

"Laugh if you like," the man sneered, gaining confidence from her reaction, seeing uncertainty behind her eyes. "They'll hunt every last one of you down for this. Especially for that." He nodded toward the lockbox.

They bound him and took him outside to join the other captives, only to discover that the tabby had somehow slipped her bonds and fled.

"Blin!" Jac swore. "She get away!"

Clarence dropped to all fours immediately, nose to the ground. "Got her scent. She can't have gone far."

The old wolf loped off into the gathering darkness, following the escaped bandit's trail. He returned nearly an hour later, exhausted and empty-pawed.

"Lost her," he admitted between heavy breaths. "Trail went cold at a stream."

Tom laughed harshly. "Told you. She'll bring back help, and then you're all dead and so is anyone who helped you." His ugly chuckle continued.

Rose, normally the gentlest among them, moved with unexpected swiftness. The curved blade of her moon-sickle flashed once, and the man's laughter turned to a wet gurgle before he collapsed, his throat opened to the evening air.

"We don't have time for this," she said softly, wiping her blade clean. "The ship will be returning soon. We need to be ready."

The remaining two bandits stared at the gentle-seeming deer with newfound terror.

"What about these two?" Jac asked, nudging one with her foot.

Elspeth considered, then drew a dagger and embedded it in the wall of the main hut, several dozen feet away. "If you can free yourselves and reach that, you might survive the forest." She turned to the others. "It gives them a chance, but not too soon."

Jac nodded in approval, then delivered precisely calculated blows to render both bandits unconscious. "They are clever, these unpleasant ones. This buy us more time."

They quickly looted the camp, finding a substantial haul: fifty platinum coins, a sack of uncut gems, a magical Gem of Seeing, an ornate sapphire-encrusted dagger, and a finely crafted scimitar.

As they gathered their spoils, Elspeth's gaze kept returning to the green lockbox. "Aren't you curious? Just a peek?"

"Greigor warned against opening it," Rose reminded her. "And given what it's already cost, perhaps we should heed that warning."

Ralynn nodded decisively. "Aye. This has been decided already, nae need tae debate it again. We were hired tae recover it, not inspect it. “ A privateer’s gleam shone for a moment in her eye, "The contents are worth more tae us unknown than known. We’ve nae fence for such an object, an’ oor reputation is oor lifeblood. Besides which, I dinna want tae be on Talan’s list o’ enemies. We leave it closed. Cannae be accused o’ tamperin’ that way." She thought back to Twilight Tom’s injuries. Gold coins tae scones that greed-fer-brains opened that box and it gave’im what-for. No sir, my mother raised nae fool.

With their mission accomplished -- if not quite as smoothly as planned -- they began the journey back to Tensin village, the mysterious lockbox secured in Ralynn's pack.

"Think the Cloudstrider will be back soon?" Clarence asked as they picked their way through the darkening forest.

Ralynn's whiskers twitched with a smile. "Landry's nothing if not punctual. He'll have that ship back right on schedule, mark my words."

Jac's pace quickened slightly. "Good. Sooner we leave, sooner Kroshka is safe again."

As night fell fully over the forest, the small party continued moving steadily toward the village lights now slowly becoming visible in the distance. Behind them, the bandit camp lay silent, its secrets taken -- including one locked securely in a green metal box that none of them dared open.

[broken-hearted-butterfly]

Genuinely. Genuinely. How do you make it this far without a single thought in your head. How is it that my belongings specifically are the ones that disappear and reappear looking scuffed as hell. I've somehow lost an entire moving dolly because someone put it somewhere and did not bother to say a word. You want results but don't want to put in the effort.

You can't understand why there's flies? There's food left out on the stove every fucking night, the garbage is open, I put a lid over it, why is it on the floor with the garbage open??? All my groceries get shoved into the back of the fridge, someone graciously reorganized the fridge and freezer and 1) left my freezer items out for a week before very confidently saying it had only been a day (because I waited. I watched and waited to see how long it would take for someone to speak up. You had been talking amongst yourselves instead of addressing everyone simultaneously.) and 2) had tossed someone of mine after I had already reiterated that some of the dates might be off because I buy from a discount store.

And I'm expected to be just as brainless. Give a laugh every time a mistake happens. Just smile and give grace. I'm the asshole when I put down a boundary, a boundary that will be forgotten in 24 hours anyways. I come home to the apartment full of smoke and simply turn and walk back out the door. You forgot? You forgot? You forgot? I hope it bites you in the ass one day and you're forced to open your eyes to what you've become. You clearly don't see it as an issue, leaving the fridge open and the doors unlocked and a pot of what was then naught but ash smoldering and smoking on the stove top for god knows how many hours.

I wish I could be the monster I'm painted as whenever I express disdain. Disdain for the sink constantly full (why are there flies?). Food scraps in the sink, plates and bowls still full with tap water on top. You threatened to report me to the landlord over not moving the dishes fast enough - weren't you the one who invited someone to live with you for 3 weeks without informing your roommates, someone who was involved with police on multiple occasions, who eventually had landlord involvement? Petty, petty. You seem like you've never had to face a consequence before, you've "never been toxic before" and I somehow doubt that you haven't just experienced the same leniency I've been giving you this entire time.

You want the world to bend to you and your will, your actions can affect others, but no one is allowed to affect you. I should've seen the red flags when you hadn't gotten the mail in two months (lost the key? And it didn't occur to you to LOOK or ASK?) and I pulled time sensitive bills out addressed to roommates long gone. The red flag when you claimed the dryer didn't work and I simply pulled two months worth of lint out of the lint trap.

I feel like the most pathetic god amongst men. The angel descended to help in the most disgusted way, expressing how below my pay grade all of this is. Treated as though it's amazing I know how to clean out lint. That I can scrub the mold out of the bathtub. That by mere observation I can notice things others don't - simply by using my goddamn eyes and brain. I understand that the obvious is not so obvious to many, but to use the washing machine as a hamper for sandy clothes? To walk around stage projecting your voice? To laugh it all off? To be the absolute center of it all and put your whims first without a single second thought as to how the people around you may be impacted?

Perhaps my past clouds my thoughts. Of course I was raised to keep my head down and mouth shut, to erase my own identity and merely serve. But this? This feels like more than that. This feels like ignorance and incompetence on a scale that feels absurd.

They are going to clean this apartment and I will no longer here the expression of how clean it is. Because it isn't. We live disgustingly and I refuse to clean knowing it won't stay that way. I will not be a maid for those who will not be grateful for it. Woken out of a near dead sleep to a speaker and singing in the shower at midnight. "Was I loud?" Are you stupid? Are you stupid? Are you stupid?

Is it misanthropy? I've had so much time to sit and think and sort and process and I suppose it can be considered something of a luxury. I can only take so many demonstrations of uncaring, of a laugh or an expression of disbelief.

I've tried. Believe me when I say that I have tried. You simply don't care. Not about me, not about how you live. Nothing matters except your immediate future. And I suppose there's something sad to this ignorance. But it is not my job to lead you into the light.

The common area makes me upset enough that I work to avoid it. I spend time out of the house.

I'm tired.

[timelostobserver]

It was what worked, and continued to work. He couldn't even begin to try and explain how the scales weighed ones heart, or how he knew exactly who to send to Heaven and which to condemn to the absolute prison that rested on the very grounds they were talking upon. The rest were filtered into Hell.

From the unimpressive, to the serial killers. Heaven only seemed to want the absolute 'best'. All it took was one, measly blemish for them to abandon anything they didn't see as perfection. Perfection Hades would pay to see ripped apart for the lie it really was.

But that wasn't his job, no. The 'Angel of Death', the feared 'Grim Reaper', the 'Lord of the Underworld' simply was a desk job with a lofty name. A desk job no one else in creation had the skills to do. A job Hell now held firmly in it's grasp, and Heaven didn't give two shits about.

After all, why care when the one made for the job was doing it anyway?

Well, he continued to do it because he legitimately cared for the human souls under his guardianship. That one, small, tiny crack in that ice that leaked any warmth from the angel he used to be. Delegated to the departed.

He only wanted what was best for them, and for them to enjoy their second 'chance' at 'life'. And he didn't like either path in their current states.

"Because it works, Lilith. Pay in mind I don't 'like' sending souls to live in Heaven. I know that it's nothing more than a fucked up, shiny prison run by two-faced liars. But Hell ain't much better." Neither option was. He'd LOVE to be able to keep the souls here. Under his stewardship. But that wasn't possible. There were far too many humans dying each and every day.

"They won't do anything because they can't do anything. The only ones who know about me know they can't replace me." He spoke at her rather pointedly, a brow raised.

"They march in here and try to take my station, they know it will be a blood bath. I may have fallen, but I am STILL an Archangel. I am STILL the Angel of Death." A force so terrible within creation that even angels feared it, and his Father tried to control through him.

A lot of good that did them all.

"Pah.. Adam. I'd love nothing more than to drag that fucker down into Tartarus, screaming at this point. Chained up in pure nothingness, with only his wails as company for all eternity. Hell's too good for him." There was that Wrath, that rage that boiled under the fallen's skin. The very flame that gave this place even a small ember of warmth.

"Same goes for that bitch Sera." He muttered the last bit before eying Lilith with a skeptical look. The hell did she mean?

But then.. he fell silent, eyes back down to his desk. No, no she had a point. If anything, the biggest 'fuck you' to Heaven would be making Hell a far more tolerable place. Livable, even. Well, more so than it was now.

Yes, there were children down here. Not just sinners. Human children condemned to Hell. Forced into doing something 'wrong' to survive. But the Hellborn as well, those who had no choice but to be born in this place. The Imps, Succubi and Incubi, the Hellhounds, and the myriad of others within the lower rings.

"That sounds like something you should be discussing with the Sins and your Husband, not me. I don't run anything in Hell, outside of what I do here." And no one, outside of the literal royal Family and noble families, knew he was even here. Sinners especially had no memory of this place, even if every single one had been through here at one point in their afterlife.

But he couldn't exactly do anything to help Hell's situation. Which made him suspicious of why Lilith came to him of all people...

"Maybe even those 'Overlords' that are around; they have pull and sway, at least in the Pride ring."

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hello amazing blogger! I've been drowning in WIPs and rl chaos lately, and really need to take care of myself for a bit.

Do you mind doing a Daemon blurb where he tries to make her feel better with slow, intimate sex at noticing she's depressed?

Thank you, have a lovely day 💐

Lies Are Treason

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: The fire that drew your husband to you in the first place is now dwindling, and that was a serious problem.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Opens with violence, fem!reader, wife!reader, soft!daemon T_T i love him, reader is not having a nice time, smut (reader kinda cries mid fucking and gets emotional, praise kink, bratty!reader, cock warming, cream pie), typos, etc.

A/N: hello my lover <3 i give you kiss. i am honored that you reached out to me during a time like this. i often wonder what value my fanfics hold in the grand scheme of the world other than silencing the loud romance ideas i have with fictional men i will never meet T_T, but then i think about how reading and writing fanfics makes me feel happy, and so i only hope my brain farts do something similar for someone else yeah may the imaginary dick imma give you suffice to alleviate a fraction of your heavy thoughts HAHAAHAH

Daemon knew.

He felt it in the way he woke up earlier than his lover, the way he had to slow his pace as not to leave her behind, how he had to chose what she would wear, and now, how he had to look for her, since he'd no idea where she gone.

There was something wrong. Something was bothering his wife and someone somewhere was going to pay for it.

In this moment, it was your handmaiden who was quivering in fear with Dark Sister between her eyes.

"My lord," she wept, "I- I-"

"You are her helper, are you not?" Daemon seethed, stepping closer to the poor, innocent servant girl who had fallen on her hind, terrified by her master's cold accusations, "your job is to keep my lady wife in your sight and attend to her every need."

"My prince," she shudders, raising her hands, "the princess is not kept by anyone-" tears streak her face, "-you know this."

Daemon hums deeply, moving stray hair away from the girl's face with his blade, "and yet the fact that you do not know her whereabouts enrages me still."

"My prince!" a separate panicked voice calls.

"What?!" Daemon quips, not prying his eyes on his target.

"The guards say they've seen the princess in the dragon pit."

Daemon turns away from the quivering girl, to the other that was fighting to save her fellow servant, "and you understand that lying to me is treason."

Dark Sister is upon the other's neck now.

Daemon moves closer to her, annoyance and boredom lacing his expression, "if I find your information false, not only will I return fucking fed up, but I will have the head of the guards who muttered the nonsense to you."

Daemon watches her squirm underneath his weapon.

He raises his brows, "well? The guards names?"

"Oswald and James, your grace," she shudders, cheeks stained with tears.

Daemon pulls his sword away and tuts, "you better not be wrong."

One could only imagine the collective relief across the castle after Daemon made it to the pit and saw who he had been searching for all along.

I hear a deep sigh and turn over my shoulder.

"You know I nearly killed your handmaiden a few moments ago."

My hand that was stroking Caraxes' face stills as I look off to my husband who was walking over, "what? Why?!"

"Well," he starts, only continuing once he was next to me, stroking Caraxes all the same. His dragon snorts hotly in greeting as Daemon continues, "my wife had gone missing."

I don't even roll my eyes at him as I look away and mutter, "overreacting, as always." I gently stroke the scales beneath my palm, "you will apologize with tears.'

I only turn to Daemon when he grabs my hand. His face is tense and his grip on me is firm, "at least I'm in character."

I knit my brows at him, tilting my head, "are you saying I am not?"

I turn from Caraxes and walk backwards until I can lean against the creature's large body. Daemon does not release my hand and follows me as I do so.

"I am bossing you around, clearly," I state.

"Yet there is no grit to it," he retorts.

Before I could respond to what my husband told me, Caraxes, who had been lying on the ground, begins to rumble softly. He lift his head, shaking it before craning his neck to look at his master.

The two stare at each other, wordlessly communicating, then the dragon pulls his head back down and grunts.

When Daemon turns back to me, he sighs, muttering something softly in High Valyrian.

I attempt to decipher the words, "Caraxes is not feeling good?"

"No," Daemon retorts, reaching his hand out to my cheek, "it is you who is not feeling good."

I stare at the man who inches nearer up until our chests are pressed together. Unable to bare his gaze, I turn away and nudge Caraxes with my elbow, "snitch."

Daemon sighs, leaning down as his hands snake around me. His face finds its spot at the crook of my neck, and by the curve of my shoulder, he presses a kiss. He rubs his cheek against mine as he whines, "you think I do not already know?"

I feel disarmed by his words, so much so I shift my weight and lean fully against him, pressing my face on his shoulders as my hands cling on his sides, "I hoped you would continue to ignore it."

"Nothing was ignored," he pulls me closer to him, propping his chin on the top of my head, "a ridiculous thought really," he tightens his arms around me, "why do you think I agreed to letting you drink until you could not walk the other night?"

I hum, tilting my head up so I could brush my lips on his neck, "I thought you just wanted your wife to relive her youthful alcoholism."

He draws shapeless patterns on my back, "I knew you needed a release."

"Release he said," I chuckle, "ironic when I took in so much wine that my belly swelled like I was pregnant."

He does not respond to this.

A moment of silence passes after.

Daemon begins to rub my back and I feel like I could fall asleep in his arms. I close my eyes and pull away from him however, hands instinctively finding their way to my husbands shoulders.

His hands are firmly gripping on my sides as I feel him lean down and press his forehead against mine.

I rub my thumbs on the fabric of his clothing and simply savor his presence.

"Speak to me," he whispers like a plea.

I raise my chin, eyes still closed. I grab his face and kiss him; warmth envelopes me the moment I do so. His hands force me closer and his lips are hungrier than mine. When I pull away, he chases me with one last peck and places another on my cheek.

"I do not know what to tell you, Daemon," I mumble, finally opening my eyes.

Daemon pulls back, looking down at me with concern, as if trying to will words out of his mouth.

"I just... fell unlike myself, and even Caraxes seemed desperate about it." I brush his silver locks behind his ear as I mutter, "I don't know. I am nearly as bad at this as you are."

His hands catch my cheeks. He caresses the area before he slides his palms all the way back down to my waist. He gently rocks me against him, averting his eyes in contemplation. He kneads on my flesh as he decides, "then let me do something that I am good at."

He turns back to me as I link my fingers behind his nape, "and what are you good at, husband?"

"Releasing into my pretty wife as she cries out my name," he sighs as he bends to kiss my neck.

I moan when he nibbles my skin, "Daemon."

He responds by muttering my name as he pulls away. His eyes locks on mine, as if searching for permission.

I place a hand on his cheek and brush my thumb on his lips, "take me back to our quarters."

Without another word, he grabs the hand on his cheek and drags me away.

The very moment we are in our chambers, he closes the door and grabs me, attacking me with kisses like a man starved.

Daemon pushes me backwards, fingers nimbly making its way down the laces on the back of my dress, up until my calves hit the bed.

Before he pushes me on the mattress, he pulls my dress down, dropping to his knees. He kisses my sternum on the way as he works on getting me out of my clothing. I bite my lip as I look down at him.

I lightly comb my fingers on his scalp as he bites my thighs while urging me out of my dress.

"Daemon."

He looks up at me.

I grab his cheeks, as he stands. Once he is towering over me again, I begin to undo his own clothing, pulling him out of his tunic and sinking down to free him of his trousers. He doesn't grant me the courtesy of biting his thighs as he pulls away, kicking his pants off and grabs me, pushing me back on the bed.

He allows me to crawl up on my elbows until my head is on the pillows. He doesn't waste time and gets on top me, positioning himself in between my legs.

He hums in appreciation of the heat against him. He praises me in High Valyrian and grabs my thighs as he rubs against me, "so pretty and warm.

I groan at the feel of him grinding on my sensitive nub. He slows as he sinks down on my shoulder, peppering kisses all over my skin. I wrap my legs around him as I dig my fingers into the roots of his hair.

He props his hands to the side and bucks his hips against me. I whine, pressing my lips on any part of his skin that I can reach.

"Daemon," I mutter against him, "you feel so good."

He sucks on my skin then bites down, making my stomach flutter. He connects our lips together and squeezes my sides, "I'll make you feel better, my love."

After saying this, Daemon sheathes his hard length that was wet with my slick. I roll my eyes back at the feel of him stretching me out.

He grunts, thrusting shallowly, but then stills as he sings me praises, "so nice and ready for me, sweet girl."

"Always ready for you," I mewl, licking his lower lip before grazing it between my teeth.

Daemon rubs my sides as he moans at the feeling of my bites.

He begins to move against me, but he barely pulls out, as if fearing the loss of me. I bring my hands to his hips and dig my nails in, "more, more, more."

He shushes me, then clicks his tongue, "so impatient."

"Break me, Daemon," I mutter, helplessly, moving my hips in sync with his, "please, I need you to fuck me."

He hisses when I rip at his skin. He pushes his face against mine, forcing my cheeks on the pillow, "behave, little one. I will not be bullied by someone who squirms at the very feel of my touch."

I whine again at both his words and the feel of his mouth on my jaw. I half expect a punishing thrust to be had. When he does not relent his excruciatingly slow pace, I begin to beg, "Daemon, please, please, please! I want to-"

His hands forcing my wrists to the sides shut me up with a gasp.

Daemon hovers his face above mine, and I nearly choke at the sight of him, "I told you to behave."

He rolls his hips into me, still so leisurely but so deliciously that I cannot contain my moan. Yet it's not enough. I want him to ruin me.

I whine out his name again, "Daemon please."

He sighs at the sounds I make and pushes himself up on his arms, "you know better than anyone that no one can change my mind once its made."

I chew on my lips as I look up at him. My desperate need of him makes my eyes begin to water. My hands dart up to his cheeks as I complain, "I can change your mind, my love. Please, please."

Daemon's dark eyes take in my wanton figure. He leans into my pulse and kisses it, "the world has broken you enough," he draws out a long breath when I clench around him desperately.

When he curses in High Valyrian and he sinks back down against my face, I mistake it as defeat. I seal him against me tightly and nip at his neck. I find myself ceasing my nibbling when I hear him whisper against my ear, "just let me love you tonight, my dear. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

Daemon then, although still brutally slow, begins to thrust more thoroughly, pulling out farther and plunging deeper. The sensation has me reeling and my stomach begins to tense.

"My pretty wife," Daemon groans, rutting against me, "so lovely, so soft, and all mine."

My nails find his skin again, scratching all the way to the center of his back.

He moans sucking at my neck as he continues his ministrations.

"I would burn the whole world if that's what it took to mend your heart."

I moan his name in response, voice not ceasing as it draws out pleasured noises. I look to him, trying to find his face, but he's too lost in his movements and too snug against me.

I screw my eyes shut when he finally begins to quicken.

I squeal before I speak, "yes, Daemon," I grunt, "so good- like that- more."

He pants, hand coming up to my neck, "I would do anything for you," he kisses my jaw, "you know this, right?"

I whine as I nod, "yes, Daemon, yes, yes, yes, yes-"

"So, let me do this. Let me take care of you," he mutters, "do not withdraw from me again."

When I open my eyes and catch his gaze, my throat goes dry and my eyes begin to spill with water. I groan out his name in a manner I am so not sure of.

He kisses the tears that begin to fall down my face and snaps his hips quicker, "take solace in me the way I do you."

My voice is too preoccupied with whines that I do not get to reply.

The bed begins to squeak and knock on the wall at his ferosity.

Daemon seals my whimpers against his lips as pressure begins to build within me. My lashes, dampened with tears, begin to flutter at the feel of my husband. At the rate he was going, my release was swift and inevitable. He drags his lips up to my forehead, kissing my nose and eyelids tenderly as he does, juxtaposing the roughness of his severity in my core.

I come around him all at once, growling his name in pleasure, tensing tightly then turning into putty.

Daemon mutters my name as well, over and over, until I feel his hotness spread inside me. I nearly choke on my spit at the feel of his unrelenting snapping even after the fact.

Just when I think he will not stop, he begins to grow sloppy. I sigh as he eventually halts. By then, I am plainly aware of the feel of his seed overflowing, though he is still snug within me.

Although I am utterly boneless beneath him, I manage to tighten my limbs around frame, absolutely unwilling to free him from where he was. The last of his movement fade and I fell utterly spent of his love.

Daemon presses a kiss on my cheek, hands coming to my sides, "I am here, my love. I will not leave."

Without warning, my lips begin to quiver.

I am suddenly overcome with emotion. I begin to feel my throat and chest tighten as sadness creeps out of me, finally seeing its chance.

I force myself not to cry, but I am powerless when Daemon begins to hush me, "sweet girl, it'll be alright." I am broken by the time he repeats, "I am here."

I bring my hands to his shoulder blades and knead at the area, "I need you, Daemon. I can't be without you, ever. I love you so much."

He kisses me as he nods, "I know. I would go mad without you by my side," he kisses me again, drawing out a long breath before continuing, "I love you like I have not known love before."

He allows me to empty my sorrows against him, comforted by his mere presence in the silence.

Sobs beginning to die down, I turn to him and bring my palms to his cheeks. He lifts his head to look down upon me and brushes his nose against mine.

I repeat, as if I hadn't made myself clear, "I love you."

"I love you," he repeats not a second too late, then kisses my lips, "I love you so fucking much."

I nod rapidly, kissing every inch of his face, "thank you for this, my love," I sigh and readjust my legs around him, "I did not know I needed it."

The vibrations of his laughter cause me to whimper. He places a kiss on the top of my head, "spoiled brats hardly ever do."

"I'm not spoiled," I furrow my brows and pout, "you're the one who grew up..." I moan, "a prince."

His minute hip movements tease out another sound out of me.

I whine in protest, "Daemon, please, I can't."

He clicks his tongue, "see? Pretty girls like you should take what they are given graciously without complaints," he brushes his nose against me, "especially when it is a generous gift from her prince."

I release a sigh once he ends his torture.

"Still," Daemon smirks, "I could not bare to make my wife cry even more."

"You can make me cry, if you want," I mumble as I kiss his shoulder, "just let me stay like this for a while," I rub his back, "I like it when I'm full of you."

Daemon relaxes on top of me and I relish the weight of him.

"I like it when you're full of me too."