#bit of a long snippet

[sr-sam-bodypillow]

i have committed a sin again (omg “again”???)

anyways unrelated to said sin, i just had an idea where stan is an amateur ghost hunter who needs them extra money and kaif is a powerful incubus (while we’re on our SR lust demon bullshittery)

i also have maybe two ideas based on that one SR star wars fic on ao3. Might elaborate on a separate ask if you want me to :)

my inbox is basically a confessional at this point be as horny as you want. if you want to tell me that's up to you

and incubus!kaif? oh MY. i have certainly got Ideas for that.

[the following is a small snippet of something i may have started to write after reading you ask]

The man has him pinned against the wall now, his chest firmly pressed against Stan's. He's far too warm for any human, adding credence to his theory that this man's an incubus, but it's not an uncomfortable warmth. It's more akin to the warmth of gentle sunbeams on a cold day, or the comforting feeling of being tucked away under mountains of blankets, something that makes Stan want to pull him in and hold him tight regardless of the consequences.

His hands are firm yet gentle as they roam his body, one slipping beneath his shirt to rest on his back. Stan shivers at the contact, trying his hardest to lean into it without seeming too desperate.

He looks up, the slight height difference between them seeming so much more noticeable, making eye contact with him. There's an odd look in his eyes, a mix between hunger and lust, as he studies Stan. It honestly does feel as if he's undressing him in his head as he licks his lips, revealing razor-sharp canine teeth.

"What's your name, again?" His voice is a smooth, deep drawl, taking his time with each syllable. "I thought you'd told me earlier, but I'm a bit... forgetful, darling." The nickname makes his face heat up in a way that he knows the incubus can sense, judging by the way his lips quirk up in amusement.

The thing is, Stan never shared his name with him. Whatever this is, it's probably a ploy to make him drop his guard- The incubus can surely recognise that he's a hunter of some description. It's not like he hides it. Regardless, Stan can't help but want to go along with this. He knows it's a bad idea, one probably fueled by the incubus' subtle aura of power which is slowly but surely causing pure want to pile up in his gut, clothing feeling too tight for comfort. He knows that if he goes along with this, he'll be destroying any kind of good will or reputation he's managed to build with other hunters and contacts. It's surprising, how much prejudice they hold against people who have had sex with a sex demon and lived to tell the tale, regardless of if it was willing or not.

But looking at his face, with a playful, coy smile handmade to lead people down a path of darkness, Stan can't bring himself to care. Hell, he'd willingly go down that path if it meant that he held him like this for just a moment longer. So, he speaks up.

"Stan." He's only just noticed the complete and utter absence of sound in the room, with the only thing he can hear being his rapid heartbeat and the slow, gentle breathing of the incubus. "M' name's Stan."

"Stan." If he didn't know any better, he'd say that almost sounded like a prayer. The incubus' smile grows, eyes gleaming in the low light. "I like it." He repositions himself, somehow moving even further in, and Stan flushes at the feeling of the man's bulge pressed up against him. He's... well, big would be putting it lightly. The skintight jeans he wears are certainly not helping, but they do make his ass look quite nice.

It's at this precise point that Stan decides that dignity is for pussies, moving his hands around to get a handful of the man's ass. He quirks an eyebrow slightly, grinning wildly, before tilting his head slightly, lips close to his ear.

"I'm Kaif, by the way." The air seems to hum with energy as he says that, lights flickering slightly, something that proves that he's at least a demon. Names have power. And Kaif's seems to have a lot of power behind it, as Stan's never seen the mere uttering of a name have such a notable effect ever before in his life.

He moves his head back, eyes meeting his. Stan can feel his breath on his face as he does, impossibly close to him, yet still not touching. The only warning he gets is Kaif licking his lips again before he smashes his lips against Stan's. He gasps, and Kaif uses this as an opportunity to deepen the kiss, tilting his head slightly. Stan's eyes flutter shut, and it would be a lie to say that he wasn't kissing him back just as passionately.

Kaif tastes strangely sweet, borderline intoxicating, and Stan can't help but want more. Kaif's getting to work at this point, his fingernails having lengthened into black claws as his disguise slowly falls away. With no small amount of expertise, he uses his claws to cut away Stan's shirt, the fabric falling to the wayside and leaving his chest exposed, Kaif's lips still firmly pressed against Stan's. Eventually, he pulls away, with Stan's mouth still hanging open as he pants. Kaif doesn't need to breathe, on account of being a demon, so it's more for Stan's benefit as he gives him a second to recuperate.

His eyes have changed, shifting from a soft blue to a deep, vibrant crimson. His tongue seems considerably longer, ending in a pointed tip, and his teeth have all sharpened as well. He chuckles, and Stan flushes.

Kaif's hands are warm against his exposed skin, pulling him back into his embrace to kiss him more. Stan can feel his pants grow tight as he hardens underneath the incubus, and he knows that there's no way he's going to get out of this in one piece.

But, Stan doesn't care anymore. If he's going to die, then fucking hell.

He might as well die happy.

[arsenicflame]

It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.

At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 

It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.

Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 

“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.

(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)

By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.

When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.

Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”

And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”

That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.

[wikiangela]

seven sentence sunday

thank you to everyone who's been tagging me, I've been slacking on posting here and keeping up with my notifs lmao but I appreciate y'all <3

sooo... did someone say post-bucktommy-break-up saltommy? 👀 (btw they're just friends here, no romantic feelings, just an unhealthy way to deal with shit for both of them lmao)

___

“You okay?” He asks quietly, his grip firm, genuine concern in his face. Tommy must look like hell. 

“No.” Tommy admits, managing a crooked smile. “Not at all.” He turns fully towards Sal, his arm falling out of his grasp. Tommy takes a step forward, into Sal’s space. “Why do you think I’m here at this hour?” 

“Tommy.” Sal says, a hint of warning in his voice when Tommy takes another step into Sal’s personal space. “You know how it goes. It won’t make you feel any better.”

“I don’t care. Just- just shut up and kiss me.” Tommy gets so close their lips almost touch, his hands landing on Sal’s hips. “Please, Sal. If you- if you really don’t want to, don’t want me, just say a word and I’ll leave.” Tommy promises, though he doesn’t think he could handle a rejection well right now, when he’s already at his lowest. “But I need- I need you. Please.” He knows he sounds desperate, that’s because he really fucking is. He needs to feel something that’s not pain and heartache and sadness and so much self-hatred he could drown in it. For just a moment, he needs to feel good, at least physically. And it’s a guarantee with Sal.

@dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @rogerzsteven @honestlydarkprincess @steadfastsaturnsrings @diazheartsbuckley @giddyupbuck @thewolvesof1998 @underwaterninja13 @your-catfish-friend @louisferrignojr @beyourownanchor6 @weewootruck @kirkaut @jewishbuckley @doctorkinney @bucktommyscones @bucked-it-up @theotherbuckley @drcloyd @girlwonder-writes @dadbodbuck @loullaby @aringofsalt @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @hyperfocusthusly @talktonytome @teenmaximoff @cornerofspace @tommybuckleys @kinard-buckley @perfectlysunny02

[lucabyte]

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

[gothsuguru]

it’s midnight and i cannot stop thinking about butcher!sukuna and his beloved cannibal s/o… i think he would pick up a job as a butcher for his spouse just so he could provide them with all the raw bloody flesh they desire… i think he’d carefully carve the heart out of every creature that comes through and would feed it to his s/o from his hand… a metaphorical feeding of his own heart if you will

[varpusvaras]

Fox: Everybody always wants a tall man...everybody always wants a tall man with broad shoulders...everybody always wants a tall man until you are having his giant baby that is in 99 percentile on everything...you don't want a tall man, you want a moderately sized man....

Bail, on the other side of the room: ...I feel like I am being targeted right now

[hedwig221b]

Hello 👋🏾, are you really going to write the sterek twilight fic? 😳😁

Hi! 💗

I mean, I guess so? Everyone is so excited at the prospect.

Besides, I really struggled with writing since Yes To Heaven came out. Nothing sparked joy and writing felt like a chore and it saddened me to no end. This Twilight au idea came suddenly and I feel excited. I think I need to write this now firstly to heal this weird writing block and secondly, because everyone apparently wants it very much 😅

[creationsabyss]

A Home Amidst The Infinite Stars

He looks inhuman, with his smile that strains just a little too much at the corners and eyes that gleam with an artificial liveliness. An ink black stain on his skin, marring his neck and displaying his sin. Dangerous, you hear the whispers, mocking and cruel with a hint of caution that feels ice cold. Aventurine, they call him, with eyes of vivid colors that perhaps would have been mesmerizing once, but were dull and glassy now. A gem, polished and set on a pedestal for all to see.

You find it, and him most of all, tragic. Someone clearly put effort into making him presentable, clothing him in bright hues that are impossible to ignore, and his personality is loud, ringing in your ears like the echoes of a scream within the long halls of desolation. He hides himself away, protecting himself in the only way he can. Even then, you see the scars that chip away at his mind, the tiny nicks and scratches that feel like chasms to your stardust vision.

You want to reach out, wish you could cup his soul in your hands, and hide him away beneath the starshine veil you wear. You want to fill his wound with sunglow and stitch him back together with a long thread, shadow stained to prevent another scar. Perhaps he would not notice a new mark on his skin, but you did not wish to add to his canvas. Perhaps kindness is poison to him now, years of cruelty that led to painful isolation.

He is frozen, frostbitten limbs that burn as they warm by the fire. You wonder if he would cry if you hugged him, the steady pulse of a star in your chest that reaches out for him just as it has for your cherished companions. You wonder how long it will take before he willingly returns to your side, head bowed as he presses himself into your chest and shudders as though he'll fall apart the moment you let him go.

You wonder when he will relax in your hold and when he will not flinch but lean willingly into your touch. Perhaps it will take years, or even decades. Perhaps he will never lose the sharp, jagged edges of his broken pieces. But that's okay, you have time. You will wait however long it takes, just as you have for each and every one of your beloved companions.

[wttcsms]

horribly short summary of what im trying to accomplish here, but if you were to read a fic featuring character, a soldier honorably discharged and is officially off the battlefield and yet he can’t seem to shake off the war from clinging to his body, and he’s basically a bit of a mess and feels incapable of returning to ordinary life and there’s you, the sweetest thing in the whole world, and he keeps trying to tell you he’s no good and you’re there to help him with everything (and it kills him a bit, to see you wasting your time to help him, and it kills him because he feels like he shouldn’t be the type of person who needs help) and !! just slowburn and falling in love and just read the tags for the vibe ok, who would it be for

[noodleblade]

kobd but knock out is the one smitten and pining for breakdown I feel like I always see it the other way

ahah I may have something in the works...

[sotc]

IT'S JOEVER.

I BEAT ORIGINS. my heart is so full and i have so many feelings but ahhh I loved it SOOO MUCHHHH!!! Honestly surprised with how quickly I attached to my Warden and her story, all the companions are SO SO great. 10/10 best dragon age game by far.

I really enjoyed leaving Milana and Alistair to very much caring for each other after everything was said and done despite the unrequited romance. 😭💗 My heart is so full about those two being such such good friends. And I especially love that Morrigan and her became so close like sisters in the end too. Live well, my friend. Live gloriously. BABY GIRL I LOVE YOUUUUU. Special kiss to the wind for SHALE. Honestly the best person Milana loves to be snarky with fr. lol. NOW ONTO ZEVANA....

Just before the big battle with the Archdemon and I was exploring a few options and I personally headcanon it's a combination of these two scenes that Milana and Zevran share. Milana worried to put him in danger of the Archdemon only for him to tease and insist to come with her before she relents/agrees and finally admits that she loves him. There's something so profound in him not saying it back and yet equally so with Milana saying it to him. She doesn't even need to hear it back in this moment. She knows what he feels mirrors her own; he would choose to be by her side at the end in a shared suicide mission than not at all. That alone is her courage, her strength, her resolve. And Zevran knows it love despite himself but how fucking painful and scary is it to hear those three words in the face of uncertain death? When the last time he heard those three words from Rinna he had damned her and himself? To recognize once more his heart has been touched so irrevocably? He may be grateful fate has brought them together but the circumstances of it all are so, so cruel. Fate is a tricky whore!!!!! What a lovely and incredibly intimate character moment for the both of them. Ugh <33

... BUT ANYWAYS THEN THEY BOTH LIVED YAYYY!!!

MY FUCKIN BABIESSSSSS. SOBS. JUST-- RUN AND JUMPS INTO THAT MANS ARMS AND SMORCHES TF OUT OF HIMMMM. If only to slap his shoulder and roll her eyes when he teases her at the end there LOL. Sooooo... now to play Awakening and all the other dlcs I have yet to do? :)

[omelu]

The Class Ever After

So for a long time (since about 2018ish) I’ve had this kind of EAH story idea floating around in my head. Basically it’s about the class directly under Apple and Raven (aka the first-years) and how they handle the whole aftermath of Legacy Day and the destiny conflict. Pretty much all of the eah ocs I’ve made fit into this idea, and while I don’t really have a plot per say, I have lots of scenes, concepts and ideas floating around in my head (and in my computer).

I found a draft I had written that was supposed to be a “beginning” to the story and I revised it. I don’t know if I’ll extend this to an actual fic (since I have a lot of other original projects I want to be writing right now), but maybe I’ll write down some of the concepts and scenes I have.

The Class Ever After (snippet; ~1700 words)

Legacy Day was, by far, the biggest event at Ever After High. Thronecoming, Spring Fairest, and even Graduation Day were just breadcrumbs in comparison. That was fitting, since Legacy Day was so vital to the survival of Ever After. Every year, Ever After High’s second-years donned their ceremonial outfits, climbed the steps to the podium, and pledged to follow their fairy-tale destiny to the world by signing their names into the magical Storybook of Legends.

Without Legacy Day, fairy tales would stop being told.

Without Legacy Day, Ever After would go extinct.

Without Legacy Day, everyone would go poof.

And that’s how Marshal Nottingham found himself teetering on the edge of his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of the second-years lined up on the terrace. He’d never been to a Legacy Day ceremony before, and so he felt that it was his duty to study it all as closely as possible. The grand, book-shaped podium glittered in the moonlight, tall and regal. Above it, half a dozen mirrors magically floated in the air like jewels on a crown, prepared to broadcast each student’s face to the audience as they made the most important pledge of their lives. 

All around him, students buzzed with conversation. Third and fourth-years leaned back in their seats, reminiscing about their own Legacy Days. Faculty members congregated in their designated section, deep in hushed, frantic conversation. Second-years lined up in the hall, pacing anxiously or straightening their parent's outfits. First-years, like Marshal, watched anxiously to see what would happen.

“I should’ve brought my MirrorPad,” he muttered. “It would be much easier to take notes.”

In the seat next to him, Owlen von Rothbart yawned. “Oh, give it a rest. It’s not like you’re going to forget how to sign a book next year.”

Next year. Marshal looked up at the podium, dark eyes glittering. In just three hundred and sixty-five days, it would finally be his turn.

“One year!’ Marshal shook his head. “That’s barely any time to prepare! Do you know how quickly a year passes by if you’re not paying attention?”

Owlen just shrugged and flicked his mahogany bangs out of his eyes.

Marshal sighed. Normally, he got along well with Owlen. When he’d met his new roommate just a few weeks ago, on the first day of school, he knew that they’d be friends. Both boys were destined for villainy, and more importantly (at least to Marshal), both of them cared about keeping their shared room clean. They had so much in common that sometimes Marshal was taken aback by their differences. He just couldn’t fathom how casual Owlen was when it came to preparing for his destiny. But whenever Marshal brought it up, Owlen brushed him off and changed the subject. Which he was doing again now.

“Are they going to start soon?” he asked, craning his neck to see if Headmaster Grimm had gotten up yet. “I want to get some more barre practice in before curfew.”

Marshal sighed. Sometimes, he felt like the only one who took his destiny seriously.

“Hey, Marshal!” Bella Donna Gothel and Amber Fox stood in the aisle, waving at him. “Can we sit by you guys?”

“Of course!”

Bella and Amber slipped into the row, brushing nonexistent dust off of their formal clothes. Bella had dressed in a purple witch gown adorned with thorns, while Amber had opted for an orange pantsuit with a foxtail hem. Her bright red hair had been swept up in a ponytail, putting her fox ears on full display.

Marshal and Owlen had met the two girls in their General Villainy class, and together, the four of them had formed a coalition of sorts. Bella was the daughter of Rapunzel’s princess-napping witch, and Amber was the daughter of the fox who had tried to eat Coach Gingerbreadman once upon a time. With Owlen, the son of the sorcerer who had cursed the Swan Princess, and Marshal, the son of the sheriff who chased after Robin Hood, they made up the FVEAs– Future Villains of Ever After.

Marshal liked hanging out with the three of them. They understood what it was like to have a villain for a parent. They knew what it was like to have other kids run away from them, to be scolded for being polite, and to live with the hexpectation of being ruthless at all times. Being a villain kid was tough, but Marshal knew he could handle it with these three at his side.

“Ooh, don’t look now, but–” Amber elbowed Owlen in the ribs and stealthily motioned to the aisle.

Laura Stahlbaum, the daughter of Clara, glided down the aisle, shimmering in her red and white dress. She was holding hands with a short boy made of wood. Nathan Nutcracker. The two were laughing about something, looking every bit like the picturesque fairytale couple they would become one day.

Owlen’s face went pink and he slid down in his seat.

“You should say something to her,” Bella gently urged.

Marshal frowned. He didn’t understand why Bella and Amber kept feeding into Owlen’s crush on Laura. He wasn’t her destined prince. In Marshal’s mind, he should just forget about Laura and focus more on mastering evil spells.

“Absolutely not.” Owlen slid down further as they came closer. “You know she’s with Nathan Nutcracker.”

Marshal swelled with pride. Owlen was staying strong in his destiny!

“Hi Owlen!” Laura called, waving daintily at him as she passed their row.

Owlen sat up quickly, fixing his feathered bow tie and blushing madly. “H-hey…” 

Marshal deflated. Or maybe not. Even if Laura and Nathan’s story didn’t technically end in a fairytale wedding, Owlen still had no part in their destinies. Why was Marshal the only one who saw that?

The fairy lights dimmed as Headmaster Grimm took to the podium. A hush fell over the crowd. Marshal sat at attention.

“Today is a momentous day,” he began, his voice deep and regal. “Today, we will witness the very magic that allows the world of Ever After– and our lives– to exist.” He shifted to face the second-years, who had lined up on the podium stairs as he had spoken. “By fulfilling your destinies, you ensure that stories continue to be told. You ensure that we all have a future. No part is too small or insignificant. You each have a part to play, a duty to fulfill. I urge you not to take this responsibility lightly.”

Marshal straightened his spine. Even though Headmaster Grimm was speaking to the second-years, he could feel the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders. He wished he could be one of the students lined up by the podium, but he only had a year to wait. One year before his destiny began. Yes, he would grow to be despised and hated, but he would be fulfilling his duty to the world. He would have a purpose.

Headmaster Grimm finished his speech to thunderous applause and stepped back, letting the second-years into the spotlight. Marshal watched intently as a girl carved of wood took the stage and announced herself as Cedar Wood, destined to be the next Pinocchio. He gasped when the key magically appeared and the Storybook of Legends flipped to life. Though he couldn’t see the book, he could see the story playing out in the girl’s eyes. The slight changes in her expression as she saw her whole life play out in front of her. Marshal longed to be in her place.

When she signed, the crowd erupted into cheers. 

“Go Cedar!” Nathan Nutcracker cheered, leaping onto his seat. 

“Sit down, you scratching post!” Cato en Boots hissed, his ginger ears flicking in annoyance. “Some of us are trying to watch!”

Sheepishly, Nathan plopped back down and the ceremony continued. Marshal watched it all with wide eyes, trying to commit each pledge to memory. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Owlen take out his MirrorPhone and start lazily scrolling through MyChapter. He frowned. Shouldn’t he be paying attention? His focus shifted to the rest of his friends. Amber looked at her long, sharp nails, and yawned. Bella was quietly using her magic on a patch of clover growing through the terrace tiles, letting it wrap around her chair leg.

Marshal’s spirit sank. Once again, he was the only one who cared. Suddenly he felt alone, like he was stranded on a little island with all the passing ships too far away to call out to.

He was distracted from his internal woes when Apple White took the stage. The daughter of Snow White was a legend amongst Ever After High’s students, a person that everyone admired and looked up to, including upperclassmen. She was everything any future fairytale should aspire to be.

She delivered the pledge perfectly, grinning so widely that she could have been mistaken for the daughter of the Cheshire Cat. When she signed the book, the crowd erupted into its loudest and most raucous cheers yet. Someone started tossing confetti in the air, and a few royals tossed their crowns with it. Apple White was the ultimate celebration of destiny.

The celebration died almost instantly when Raven Queen took the stage. Lightning crackled behind her. Marshal sat a little straighter. She was the first future villain to take the stage. Next to him, his friends abandoned their distractions, staring up at the future Evil Queen with wide eyes. Hope stirred in Marshal’s chest. Maybe they cared after all.

He watched with bated breath as Raven nervously stumbled through the pledge. Her key appeared, and the Storybook of Legends flipped open. Raven watched her destiny unfold with a frown. The hope in Marshal’s chest stirred and became something uncomfortable, settling like a pit in his stomach. 

The quill appeared, and Raven reached for it– and then hesitated. Stopped. Suddenly, she pulled her hand back, squared her shoulders, and looked directly into the audience.

“I am Raven Queen,” she announced, her voice powerful and bold. “And I’m going to write my own destiny. My Happily Ever After starts now!”

She slammed the Storybook of Legends shut. Above her head, the projection mirrors shattered and exploded, along with Marshal’s hopes for his future.

Next to him, his friends cheered.

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday 📝

Tagged by the amazing @wikiangela & @lover-of-mine. Thank you for the tags mwah mwah 😘

I’ve almost finished this chapter … it’s been fighting me for weeks but now I’m finally getting somewhere and hopefully will finish it this week and can finally move forward onto chapter five and all the random stuff I have written for that chapter 😅

From stuck now so long, we just got the start wrong aka rival firefighters 🚒 . Pre snippet here.

Diaz moves first, storming past Buck and the remaining onlookers who didn’t scatter after Captain Cooper dealt out their punishment. Buck feels like a child being sent to his room for a time out. A part of him wants to fight Cooper’s orders, to argue and gnash his teeth that Diaz was the one to cause a scene, but he knows it’s not worth it. Captain Cooper could’ve written both him and Diaz up but instead chose to be lenient, so Buck needs to bite his tongue and just bare it, or he’s going to do more damage. Pick your battles and whatnot.

Buck walks over to the 118 engine and climbs in, taking some satisfaction in slamming the door before he remembers Bobby’s stance on treating the engine, truck and ambulance with respect like they’re one of the team, because they are. He winces and mumbles out an apology to the engine, moving around until he’s in a comfortable position where he still has a good view of what’s happening outside. His eyes find the 136 engine and the angry glare of Diaz. The dude has sunglasses on now, but Buck knows those brown eyes are ablaze with rage and that Diaz is probably imagining lighting Buck on fire with his mind, which is absolutely ridiculous because Diaz was the one who escalated things. All Buck was trying to do was check in with the guy because he didn’t seem okay. And by the way he broke his professionalism and snapped at Buck, something is definitely not okay. Maybe Diaz got some bad personal news or had a tough shift, maybe even lost someone on a call.

No pressure tagging: @athenagranted @monsterrae1 @callmenewbie @clusterbuck @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @hoodie-buck @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @honestlydarkprincess @steadfastsaturnsrings @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @wildlife4life @rainbow-nerdss @exhuastedpigeon @eddiebabygirldiaz @evcndiaz @try-set-me-on-fire @devirnis @giddyupbuck @theotherbuckley @disasterbuckdiaz @jamespearce9-1-1 @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz and as always, anyone who wasn’t tagged but wants to share something - consider yourself tagged now 🥰

[wikiangela]

tease tidbit tuesday

it's Tuesday somewhere so starting it off early lol

after 7x09 I had like 4 new ideas (plus maaaany more non-episode related ideas, istg lately there's so many, I don't know what to focus on lol my brain feels loud, and I feel like I'm writing a hundred things at once, I've been a chaotic mess this month istg) but for now im trying to focus on this one fic, and trying to finish whatever this is before the next episode

for now, here's a bit of bucktommy at the medal ceremony after the encounter with gerrard

___

He could punch Gerrard in the face. He really wants to, and if it was a couple years ago, he probably would – but he’s at a work event, the guy is a Captain, unfortunately, and Buck just got a medal, he’s not risking his job right now. He’s not the same impulsive kid he was seven years ago. He’s heard enough stories from Chimney and Hen, and recently some vague ones from Tommy, to know that he hates their old Cap. Tommy seems to want to open up to Buck, to let Buck truly know him, but talking about that past, about himself back then, about the whole environment is not easy, and Buck gets that. They have time to get to know each other, neither of them is going anywhere. Buck’s certainly not planning to, and when Tommy says he isn’t, either, Buck finds himself trusting him, which is very new but so exciting.

“It’s- well, it was to be expected.” Tommy shrugs, his face a careful, neutral mask that Buck’s just starting to learn to see past, then sits down when they approach the table, putting his plate down – they’re sharing it with Eddie, Marisol and Christopher, but the three of them are still at the buffet getting food. Buck takes a seat next to him, then scoots his chair closer – close enough that their knees touch, but far enough that they still appear professional. “It just threw me off. Actually, threw me twenty years back for a moment.” he huffs an unamused, bitter laugh.

___

no pressure tags: @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @bidisasterevankinard @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @dangerpronebuddie @neverevan @loveyouanyway @tizniz @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

Blood Red, Lavender's Blue

Thank you for the prompt @flashfictionfridayofficial ! I worked on General Cinderella with Tris and Kaye because I really need to work on them more, and this prompt helped me finally write out the scene I've been daydreaming for them. The Princess Tournament for the prince's hand in marriage is well under way, with it being down to the last few fighters, and Kaye's parents (the King and Queen) along with the rest of the kingdom are eager for blood and death. Tris's fight in the arena doesn't go the way the crowd and Kaye's parents want it to. Violets will be involved towards the end of the snippet, don't worry ;)

Wordcount: 948

Warnings: mentions of blood, fantasy typical violence, Kaye's parents being terrible

Fractured Stars Falling, Book 1: General Cinderella - Character, Dynamic, and Plot Exploration - Kaye's POV

The opponent struck first, swinging the heavy, spiked iron ball in a wide arc. It missed Tris by a mere hair, one of the iron spikes grazing her armor and sending sparks flying.

Tris rolled out of the way, adjusting her grip on her sword as the crowd roared excitedly. She charged at her opponent before the spiked iron ball could come back around, swinging her sword in a gleaming arc.

Her opponent jumped back to avoid the sword, the movement briefly stopping the movement of the spiked iron ball as it dropped to the dirt. They rolled, attempting to kick Tris’s foot out from under her, as they yanked on the chain and brought the spiked iron ball closer to them.

Tris charged with her sword raised, dropping to the dirt and sliding under the chain.

The crowd was loving this, cheering gleefully and chanting for blood and death. Kaye’s parents were also enjoying this, leaning back in their thrones and watching Tris with great interest.

Kaye wished he could snatch the wine goblets out of both their hands and pour it all over them.

Tris dodged under the chain again as her opponent swung the spiked iron ball around, but was just a little too late for the second time the ball came around, and it smashed into her shoulder, throwing Tris back into the wall with a crash.

She rolled out of the way before her opponent could close the gap, shortening the length of the chain so they could use the weapon at a closer range.

Tris dodged under the next pass of the chain, charging with her sword raised. She managed to land a hit, the blade drawing blood as a clean slice was taken out of her opponent’s leg.

The crowd roared, chanting for more as terrible and violent thoughts filled his head- of stabbing both his siblings and spraying the blood everywhere, pushing his parents out of their box seats high over the arena and watching their bodies splatter on the ground, using a sword to slit Tris’s throat-

Kaye’s breath hitched as he quickly looked away, hugging himself and rubbing his arms in a specific pattern in an attempt to make the thoughts go away. Finally, the thoughts relented as he looked back down into the arena to see if Tris was alright.

Tris attempted to attack again, and was a second too late in evading as the spiked iron ball smashed into her and the chain wrapped around her sword arm. Her opponent yanked the chain towards them, sending Tris to the ground, and dragging her towards them as the crowd chanted for death and blood.

Tris dug her heels into the dirt, grabbing the chain with her free hand and pulling back. Taken by surprise, her opponent was pulled down towards her into the dirt as well. Tris yanked the chain again, and her armored knee connected with her opponent’s gut.

Her frosted glass, enchanted armor and matching sword gleamed in the weak sunlight as Tris rose to her feet and her opponent doubled over, gasping for air.

The crowd went wild, everyone in the stands chanting for blood as her opponent tried and failed to get back up, chanting for Tris to ‘finish the fight’ and kill her opponent like all the other fights in the arena had ended.

Tris stood there for a moment, not moving with her sword clutched in her hand.

The crowd fell silent, excitedly waiting for the blood and death.

She turned and looked up at Kaye in the box seats, having eyes only for him. Despite all the awful things around them and what had just happened, Kaye thought she looked absolutely beautiful- her huge curves complimented perfectly by the armor, her gorgeous dark brown skin having a sweaty sheen from the fight, a few tight coils of her hair peeking out from under her helmet as she lifted the visor.

The crowd and arena fell away for a brief moment, and it was just the two of them looking at each other.

Then Tris lifted her sword

and sheathed it at her side, stepping back away from her opponent.

The crowd gasped in shock, the thousands of seats around them falling silent in dumbfounded silence.

Then the thousands of the crowd erupted in outrage, demanding blood, death, and glory.

Kaye’s parents sat back in their thrones with sighs. “How disappointing…” His mother mused with fake concern, “I thought she would make it farther than this.”

His father said, directing the words at Kaye, “We thought she could be one of us.”

Kaye couldn’t stop himself from snapping back, snarling, “She will never be like you.”

His parents glared at him in disappointment and barely contained rage at his disobedience. Kaye glared back at them defiantly, before standing from his seat, and walking to the edge of the royal family box seats, leaning over the edge into the arena a little bit as he reached into his tunic for what he’d carefully hidden there.

Tris turned to Kaye, and walked over to him as the crowd continued their outraged cries and mockery, and she bowed to him with a soft smile.

His heart melted and he forgot his parents' furious glares behind him as he gently pulled the frost violets out of his tunic, and gently tossed them into the arena below.

The beautiful purple flowers with the frost-like sheen on them gently fell down, into Tris’s hands as the crowd screamed in outrage at their own prince approving of this.

He ignored them, smiling softly down at Tris as she softly smiled back, holding the violets close to her heart.

FSF Taglist: @rose-bookblood @chalcid @evethenovicewriter @writing-is-a-martial-art 

@mjjune @fiercely-raging-writer @wildswrites @corishadowfang 

@surroundedbypearls @serenanymph (send me a message to be +/- from the taglist <3)

General Taglist: @enchanted-lightning-aes @thatprolificauthor @wip-nook @writeblrsupport 

@outpost51 @dustylovelyrun @thelaughingstag @jacqueswriteblrlibrary (send me a message to be +/- from the taglist <3)

[riconas]

rico Blease. will you share a snippet of the mountain/rora fic.

yes.

“Nuh-uh,” Mountain says, pushing her away before she can get it into her mouth. “You first.”

Aurora rolls her eyes. “Just let me—”

“Nope. Wait your turn.” Mountain pulls her up by the shoulder, roughly manhandling her onto her back, and it’s such a turn-on that she forgives him immediately. “Spread your legs. Show me what I get to eat.”

Aurora knows how to put on a show. She holds her thighs apart, slides a palm up to squeeze her breast, uses two fingers to spread her folds. Showing him. She’s so wet, almost embarrassingly so, but Mountain is staring at her pussy like a starving man presented with a five-course meal. Without warning, he dips his head, grabs her thighs, and puts his mouth on her. 

“Shit,” she swears, clamping her legs together. “Mountain, Mountain, fucking shit—”

“Woah,” Mountain says, muffled. “Those are some pretty bad words.”

Aurora kicks her heels into his shoulder blades, and Mountain grunts in response, holding her thighs even tighter. She’s feels so tiny underneath him. Probably looks it, too. They should do this in front of a mirror one of these days. That would be fun. 

“Stop kicking me,” Mountain says amusedly. “You don’t like it?” 

Aurora sniffles. “No, I like it a lot. You’re just very kickable.” 

She wishes she could bury her face in something, hates the way she gets so loud when she’s being eaten out. A pillow or a blanket would suffice. Or Mountain’s palm.

Mountain gives her clit one of those pathetic kitten licks, and Aurora squirms away, offended. “Don’t tease.”

“She’s so tiny,” he says sweetly, petting Aurora’s folds like they’re a fragile flower. “So pretty. I don’t think my cock’s gonna fit.” 

“You fucked me in the greenhouse the other day, stupid,” Aurora says. “I took your cock like a champ. And don’t personify my pussy.”

“My bad,” Mountain says, not sounding very sorry at all. “It’s so tiny. C’mere, let me finger you.”