#can’t wait to see what happens next! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ghostlythunderbird · 1 year ago

Note

Live reaction to adding in some✨spice✨ on this wonderful AU:

Very curious about the aftermath of darling having to explain why they lied about taking the suppressants— would they refuse to say anything? Or during their heat would Simon & Johnny contact their doctor for something— maybe if darlings fever was higher than it should be— and found out a bit what happened to them when they were younger because they’re their medical proxy.

🖤

Takes place after this / thank you to @ghostlythunderbird for her help!

18+ MDNI / dead disco omegaverse au / cock warming / mature themes

Simon leans over the tub, fingers swirling through the extremely hot water while you whimper and gasp against Johnny’s chest, mouth half open, nearly asleep astride his lap.

“Alpha.” You whine when he shifts, face burrowed against his skin.

“I’ve got ye, darling. I’m here.” He smoothes a hand up and down your back, soothing you, all while trying not to grit his teeth too loud.

He’s teetering on the edge, cock hard again inside your body, recovered from earlier when he finally took you as Simon soaped you clean.

Simon spreads his fingers across the the small of your back, dripping water droplets up your spine before twisting a bunch of your hair into a clip to keep it from getting wet. You’d be mad if you weren’t out of your mind in a heat haze, and your hair got wet outside of a wash day.

“Johnny.” You whimper, and the Alpha’s hand disappears beneath the water in response, patting your hip and pressing his lips to gland to settle you.

Simon really wants to pluck you from the tub and spread you to wide on the bathroom floor. He wants to spread towels out to prevent your skin from being chilled and then lay you on your back, wants to fuck his come deep into your womb until you’re gushing with it, until it takes. It’s the same way Johnny felt, when you were sitting on his lap, bouncing with your desperation, crying in need for him to fill you.

If he was in a rut, no one would have even made it to the bathroom. He would have already bred you, already fucked you full of his seed and plugged it.

But he’s not. And he’s not the one in the tub right now either, so he has to attend to the other things. Just as important, not as much fun.

“A-alpha please.” You gasp, eyes wide and teary and Johnny nods, pressing a thumb against your bottom lip, and starting back up a deep, harmonic purr in hopes of getting you back to sleep.

“I know, I know.” He coos.

Simon bends, swallowing Johnny’s lips, kissing him lazily, indulging in his pants and gasps as you tighten around him. You push at Simon’s shoulder, face screwed up in irritation, and he chuckles softly before kissing you sweetly, long and deep until you’re whining for him to get in the tub behind you.

Now that they’ve started, you’ll only stop for food and rest, and getting you to eat and drink will be a challenge in itself. Everything is shifting, your unease, distress has faded away to your instincts, your drive to be bred by them, and they’ll spend the rest of your heat giving you everything you need, soothing you and praising you, comforting you and making you feel safe, satisfying and taking care of you. They’ll flood you with their DNA, their hormones, their pheromones, completing the cycle over and over until it passes.

Simon relishes it. He loves caring for you with or without your designation, loves the idea of growing their family, of him or Johnny fucking you full of themselves until you’re swelling with their baby. It’s instinct, and primal, but so, so much more with you. You’re not just some Omega… you’re theirs. Their darling. You’ve always been theirs.

Which is why he can’t stay in the bathroom, even though he dearly wants to.

Your fingers latch onto his forearm when he pulls away, and he folds you farther into Johnny, until his mouth is above your gland and he’s licking, distracting you enough for Simon to slip away.

“Her last prescription was written six months ago, but it was a lower dosage, preparing for the weaning off time frame.” The kitchen knife slows to a stop in the middle of the apple he’s cutting, and he places it down to hold the phone firmly in his hand.

“Sorry, you said… six months?” His heart thunders in his ears. Six months? Half a year? He struggles to get a handle on the ache in his soul when he thinks about you struggling for so long, without them even knowing.

The doctor sighs.

“She was advised to inform you, to see if your work schedules could be adjusted for her heats. After being on suppressants for so long, they were anticipated to be more intense, more debilitating.”

“I- I don’t understand. Why did she come off the suppressants?”

“The long term use of suppressants have had negative impacts on her body… did she not tell you?” His stomach twists.

“No, she… failed to mention. We came home to her in the beginning of a heat but, she wasn’t herself. She was self soothing, we’re very concerned.”

“As you’re aware, yourself and Mr. MacTavish are listed as medical proxy… I can email an encrypted chart with her medical information if you’d like.” He grimaces. You’re going to be so pissed, so bloody heated when you come out of this and realize they’ve trampled all over your boundaries in this way but what else can he do?

“Alright, that will work fine.”

He reads the file alone. He doesn’t think it appropriate, to read it with Johnny while you’re practically attached to him, even though that makes him feel guilty too.

But he can’t run the risk of upsetting you, not when they finally got you settled and comfortable.

So, he opens it on the couch. It’s a massive file, as he expects most Omega’s are, considering their unique genetic needs, complicated endocrine systems and of course, reproductive health needs.

He finds the chart notes from your appointment, six months ago.

“-advised pt that stopping suppressants should be considered due to impact in pheromone production and reproductive health. Advised pt that continued long term use may have permanent effects. Pt stated she understood, agreed to start next month with a lower dosage to wean off.”

He scrolls, to a visit from last year. It’s fairly standard, mentions of blood work and labs, appropriate levels and other medical jargon, but something sticks out.

“-pt inquired if it was possible to successfully bite and bond without a heat. Informed pt it was not advised.”

Why were you asking about bites? You’d never expressed interest in that to them before… you had always told them you were happy the way things were. That you didn’t need a bond to be theirs, just like you didn’t need a heat. He’s still frowning when a note from your visit three years ago jars him.

“-pt advised she feels she’s in a safe, healthy relationship, and would consider coming off suppressants. Previous feral state symptoms have seemed to completely dissipate. Pt seems happy and very healthy. I advised I feel it would be safe if she did come off her suppressants if she chose.”

Feral? Feral state?

“Oh, darling.” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

He scrolls farther, eyes scanning through years and years of visits, going much farther back since they’ve known you, until he finds an intake form from a hospital, when you only 16 years old.

His heart stops in his chest.

“-female Omega brought in with the group who was rescued from the trafficking ring. Fluctuates between catatonia and feral state. No bites or bonds, gland intact. Unable to verbalize her name, or memories. Started on sedative drip until specialist arrives.”

#dead disco omegaverse au #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #can’t wait to see what happens next!#thank you hun for the mention much love! MWAH

821 notes · View notes

st-hedge · 7 months ago

Text

I hadn’t drawn the house of hades boys in years! Curse me! This isn’t exactly a remake of an old painting but it’s in the vibe of how I used to draw them all the time. Poetic and stealing kisses

#hades game #zagreus #thanatos #thanzag #I have missed than being a shy tsundere who was so so so fucking difficult to catch up with #loved them and loved this game #can’t wait to see what happens next to curb stomp my heart #no spoilers if there were any clues in the tech test!!!!#I don’t want to hear it lalalallalalalallalala

8K notes · View notes

writebackatya · 1 year ago

Text

Me: Oh it’s just a new adaptation of Scott Pilgrim, it can’t be that different

Me after the first episode ended:

#hey whatcha tryin to say to me?#was NOT expecting that ending #loving the show so far #it’s great having the actors reprise their roles #can’t wait to see what happens next!!#scott pilgrim takes off #scott pilgrim #scott pilgrim vs the world #scott pilgrim netflix

2K notes · View notes

barbiequed · 1 year ago

Text

#burrow's end #dimension 20 #burrow’s end spoilers #dimension 20 spoilers #aabria iyengar #how it feels when you pick up on the foreshadowing <3 #it was the hazmat suits that really sold it for me #but still very exciting and I can’t wait to see what happens next week

184 notes · View notes

mundivagantsoul · 1 year ago

Text

JAKE KNOWS JAKE KNOWS

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc/Steven/Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None, mostly some angst.

A/N: Whaaaat? Another chapter already? Sorry if this one is a hot mess, but it was bound to happen eventually!

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 9:

A House Divided

“Seriously, Jake.” Layla scoffed as they walked down the sidewalk, careful to keep her voice low so nobody eavesdropped easily on their conversation. “You didn’t have to kill that guy the other night.”

“It was either break his neck or let him shoot you.” He quirked a brow. “Would you rather I let him shoot you and you deal with a healing gunshot wound?”

“Well, my armor’s magic, same as yours, so…” She held up her hand in a “duh” like manner.

Jake rolled his eyes at her and adjusted his cap. “Ay, just shut it. And besides, Marc and Steven would never shut the fuck up if I let you get hurt. Even in your Scarab armor.”

“Oh, I could chew them out whenever one of them fronted, just chill out you damn edgelord.” Layla grunted.

“You could just say “thank you” and not be a pendeja?”

Layla clasped her hands at him and batted her eyelashes, “Oh! But of course! Jake, my hero. The man who turned a guy’s neck into bone fragments because he pointed a puny revolver at me.”

“Pendeja.”

“And no offense, but your mustache makes you look like you’re a 1970’s porn actor.” She huffed, shoving her hands in her pockets.

Now that finally got Jake to emote, as he actually dropped his jaw, furrowed his brows, and clutched his imaginary pearls. “It does not! It makes me look distinguished!”

Layla gave him a “do you honestly believe that?” look. Apparently, he’d convinced Marc and Steven to let him front long enough to grow a mustache and the beginnings of a beard. Marc, as long as she’d known him, had always miraculous facial hair growth. Where it’d take almost a month for someone to grow a thick beard, it merely took him maybe two weeks. She often wondered if maybe it was a side-effect of the Moon Knight suit, that the magic had changed that physical aspect.

But, apparently, Jake did believe it. He seriously believed his ridiculous ‘stache made him look cool.

“Ay, ay!” Jake hissed. “Don’t give me that look! It does! Plenty of people consider facial hair distinguished.”

“Maybe if you’re sporting a full beard and not some weird porno ‘stache with scruff on your face.” Layla smirked.

He jabbed a gloved finger at her, and narrowed his eyes, “You listen, cabróna, do not insult my mustache. And you will change your tune when the beard comes in! It will–”

“Oh, look!” Layla said, sweeping her arm upwards, gesturing to the sign of the shop.

Your shop.

“You little–!” Jake sputtered as Layla dragged him through the door, the little bell above the frame chiming loudly.

“Hellooooo!” Layla says cheerfully.

“Layla!” Your voice calls from deeper in the store. “Be there a minute!”

Layla grinned, but both she and Jake freeze when they see Taweret awkwardly standing off to the side, giving them a little wave with her fingers.

“What are… oh, I’ll ask later.” Layla said to her softly, shaking her head with a smile.

Jake tipped his hat to Taweret. He liked her. She was a sweetheart, and he remembered what happened when…

He shook his head free of those thoughts as he took his place in one of the reading nooks, Layla going on ahead and skittering to her usual romance section of the shop.

“You poor thing!” Taweret said to Jake. “You boys need more rest. Layla and I agreed to help in exchange for you getting your rest!”

Jake couldn’t help but smirk as she wagged her finger at him, a small frown creasing her snout. “Layla isn't suited to all of our work, Taweret. And I don’t want her to carry the burden by herself.” He said softly, keeping his voice low.

“Oh, I have half a mind to swaddle you like an infant, Jake Lockley!” She huffed, her little ears wiggling indignantly, planting her large hands on her hips as she looked down at him. “You need to stop shouldering the world’s burdens on your own! I know you’re a protector by nature, but you will seriously burn out at this rate!”

“I know, vieja.” He sighed.

“And what have Steven and Marc had to say about this?”

“They’ve been letting me front solo for a bit. Like today.” He grinned. “So, I’d say they might give me a lecture, but otherwise they’d be pretty understanding.

“You boys are so…!” Taweret threw her hands up in exasperation. “Oooh! If my hair could gray, it’d be white as snow because of how much you worry me!” Ah, her motherly nature. Both a blessing and a curse…

Jake opened his mouth to say something, but he jumped back when a furry black blob jumped onto the table in front of him, and he held his hands up as big green orbs blinked at him, the green mere slivers around the inky black of the pupils.

A cat. Wait, when did you have a cat? Did you adopt one recently?

The cat mewed softly, followed by an inquisitive “prrbt” as it looked up at him.

“She won’t hurt you, Jake.” Taweret giggled, her demeanor softening. “She wants you to pet her!”

“...Right.” He said hesitantly, tugging one of his gloves off before scritching the cat on her chin. He relaxed as she leaned into his touch, turning to run her whole body along his hand, the tip of her tail curling different ways as she happily purred.

“Well, aren’t you a friendly little lady.” Jake smiled at her, gently twisting the tip of her tail around his finger before doing another head-to-tail stroke.

The cat made a soft chirping noise as she looked at him, shaking her head as she sneezed.

“It’s getting cold out there, isn’t it, chiquita? You’re lucky the nice lady here took you in, you know? I’d take you, but our landlord would have a fit if we did that without permission.”

The cat seemed to understand, and meowed up at him. He smiled, the bushy mustache he now sported quirking upwards and twitching as she leaned in to sniff at his nose.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table while he allowed her to investigate him.

“Oh! I see Puck’s went on ahead and introduced herself.” He heard your voice chuckle.

Jake lifted his gaze and frankly, the outfit you were wearing suited you. Maybe a tad… old-fashioned, but cute. You wore a knitted half-sleeve burgundy sweater with some faded, black-denim overalls buttoned in the front. Taweret giggled and wandered off to go find Layla.

The two you stared at each other for a minute, your eyes squinting ever so slightly, and your eyebrow raised as you smirked. “Jake?”

Okay, he was impressed. Most people couldn’t tell when he was fronting. And when he had to, he was good at impersonating Steven or Marc if someone confused him for one or the other. You, apparently, were not such a case.

“Yeah. How could you tell?” He said, smirking at you.

You put your hand on your hip, your other arm was currently preoccupied with a stack of books you had tucked against you. “Well, Steven usually keeps his hair a bit messy, and he likes to sit at almost an angle, slightly hunched over the table, he also likes to drum his fingers on it, or bounce his leg as he sits. He’s also partial to weirdly-patterned flannels. Marc is a bit stiffer, and prefers to sit with his back against a wall, palms flat on his thighs or knees.” You tap your nose with a wink as you walk over to the counter to prep the books for your pick-up order. “You sit openly with your back to everyone else, and tend to look out the window. You’re almost relaxed in posture, but seem like you’re still on-guard.”

“And besides. You have worn that cap every single time I’ve seen you. Plus, y’know. You got that teeny accent.”

Jake chuckled and shook his head. Okay, those last ones were some obvious points. But you on the other hand, recognized their physical tells as well.

Puck mewed loudly, putting her paw on Jake’s other hand that still sported his glove. He smiled down at her and humored her voiceless request, pulling his offending leather off to pet her unobstructed. Puck purred loudly and happily while she curled around his hand as he petted her.

“Aw, she really likes you.” You say, walking over to them. Yeah, that’s my little vagrant.”

“Ah… she’s yours?” Jake said.

“Technically? She vanishes now and again, but I keep my door open for when she comes by. I keep stocked on kibble, her favorite dreamies–”

“Dreamies?” Jake smirks up at you.

You flush slightly and you rub at the back of your neck awkwardly. “Oh, her treats. That’s just what I call ‘em.”

“Got it.” He chuckles.

“But yeah, she’s kind of a stray, kind of not a stray. I like to let her have her freedom.” You cringe slightly. “Even though letting a domestic cat outside isn’t necessarily good for the environment, but she doesn’t like to stay indoors for very long…”

“Ah, a free spirit, I can relate.” Jake smiles, scratching Puck’s little cheek.

You reach out and give Puck a hefty stroke down to the tip of her tail. “Just wait til she shows you her belly. She loves tummy rubs.”

You didn’t notice how Jake’s eyes narrow in on something, staring with his brows furrowed in shock.

“Yeah, she’s a weird one, but she’s a cutie.” You lean and pull your hand back. “But I–”

You were cut off when Jake reflexively reached out and gripped your forearm, turning it until he could see the inside of your wrist clearly.

Three moons. Three crescent moons.

The bottom left moon was full.

He felt his heart thud in his chest as he stared at it, his mind running a mile a minute as he willed himself to calm before Steven or Marc accidentally fronted in front of you. Your mark could mean anything, but him knowing what the moon meant to him, Marc, and Steven’s daily lives had his mouth go dry.

“Uh… Jake?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. You didn’t try to pull away from him, merely stared down in concern. You knew that he was upset about something, and that he wouldn’t hurt you. Like his brothers, you never got a feeling of unease around Jake; even now.

Jake shook his head suddenly and released your arm. “Ah, sorry, señorita, I… agh. I’m not sure what came over me.”

Thank the gods that Steven and Marc weren’t currently co-fronting. He would have to…

You turned your wrist up and looked at your mark. “Ohhh, this? Yeah, people tend to ask what it means because it changes. I don’t blame you for being curious.”

You hold out your wrist for him to examine, as if it were the most casual thing on the planet.

“What do you mean, it moves?” Jake asked you, not looking up from your skin.

“Well, not as in it moves to somewhere else on my body, but it… changes.” You shrug.

“Changes.” He repeated flatly.

“Yeah, sometimes one moon is full and the other two aren’t, stuff like that. Sometimes, if one is full, one or both of the others will sometimes turn into half-moons, but not always.”

Jake swallowed at the lump in his throat. “I… see.”

“Well, it’s kinda neat, but sometimes I just wish that my–what–Puck!” You sputter after the fluffy little terror bites into one of Jake’s gloves, secures it firmly in between her little teeth, and darts off somewhere into the store.

“Oh, god, I just–” You whine. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, lately. I’ll–I’ll go get her.”

You huff and stomp off to try and locate your furry little terrorist, hoping she didn’t gnaw Jake’s glove too harshly.

Jake shoved his spare glove into his pocket and pushed himself out of his seat, rushing to go find Layla.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

“Are you sure?” Layla asked Jake as he paced on the rooftop, hands clasped behind his back as the moon shined down on them.

Both their faces were bare, but they were both wearing their divine armor that they were bestowed as Avatars.

“Yes, what else could three fucking moons mean? She said sometimes that one will get full while the others don’t, Layla. I saw it.” He growled, turning to fix her with a glare.

It wasn’t one laden with malice, but of frustration, concern, and… fear.

“What do Steven and Marc have to say?” Layla replied calmly.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose as he resumed pacing, keeping his breathing level so his panic wouldn’t rise and alert the other two within their headspace.

“They don’t know.” He hissed through gritted teeth. “I…I don’t want them to know. Not… not yet.”

“Jake, they have a right to know!” Layla gasped. "If she really is your soulmate--"

“No!” Jake snapped at her. “She’s not… she can’t…”

He gripped his usually immaculate hair in his fingers and bunched the raven curls between them.

“She’s innocent. We can’t just. I can’t bring her into this world on a hunch that she might be…”

Layla fixed him with a soft, sympathetic look as she took a step closer to him. “Jake…”

She slowly put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him stiffen beneath the dark trappings of his suit.

“...Remember when Marc was hurting and said his hand felt like it was burning? And that he had a headache?”

“Yes…” He slowly lifted his eyes to look at her suspiciously.

“Well…” She said awkwardly. “Um.”

“Layla.” Jake said sternly, feeling a bit of anger start to rise. “Did you know?”

“I’m just saying!” Layla continued, taking her hand off of him to raise both in a placating gesture.

“But, when I went into her shop after I got here… her hand was burned. And then she mentioned she tripped and hit her head…”

“LAYLA!” Jake shouted.

When she winced, he snorted out a hot puff of air from his nostrils, rubbing his temples. “Sorry. But we had a right to know.”

“But you’re being a hypocrite by not telling Steven or Marc.” She said softly, looking at him from beneath her lashes.

“...Layla. She’s an innocent person. I don’t want to expose her to Khonshu and his schemes, I don’t want him to use her like a weapon against us like he did to you!” Jake said, waving his arms at her.

“I don’t want her to be put in danger! She’s the one normal spot we have in our fucking lives, and it would be nice to just have one normal friend!”

“But she might be more than that.” She narrowed her eyes sharply at him. “What are you planning to do, keep it a secret from the other two and reject her for them?”

“No!” Jake said, his eyes widening in shock.

No, no, no. He would never dare to do that to you. He knew what rejecting a soulmate did to the other party. He couldn’t live with the guilt knowing his rejection of you might curse you to some sort of half-life, living in a gray, colorless world.

And… god. Everything they've been through, every injury they’d gotten… you felt it, too. Even when Marc’s mother would beat them, even when he was hurt out in Egypt, when they wore the armor… everything bounced back to you.

Either way, you would suffer no matter the choice. It was unfair and cruel to you, cruel to them.

Why the fuck couldn’t fate have given you a less complicated partner?

Just this once, why couldn’t they live their lives without causing somebody else’s suffering?

And no doubt if Layla figured it out, that means Taweret and maybe Khonshu knew, as well.

He looked over the rooftop and down through your window, seeing you curled in on yourself on your couch as Puck snuggled into you, sitting like a cute little black loaf in your lap.

You were so blissfully unaware of the evils and supernatural surrounding you. Surrounding them. You… you deserved peace.

Jake felt his heart tear in two, one part indecision and the other telling him to damn the consequences and tell you.

Why… why was fate so cruel?

Above all else, he knew… god, Jake knew that whatever he–or they--did, they couldn’t let Khonshu get his bony hands on you.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, biting down the surge of anxiety to keep from alerting his headmates. He felt tears of frustration burn at the edges of his vision when he opened them again to look down at you.

You were still sitting innocently, laughing at something on your television. But Puck was looking up.

Right at him and Layla.

The pain of knowing that you were possibly their soulmate, and you had been so tantalizingly close this entire time ate him up inside; it was like dangling a loaf of bread in front of a starving man, but he knew if he reached out for it, he could face his limbs being lopped off, or the bread snatched away from him at the last possible second.

Either way.

Suffering was assured.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 10: Coming Soon

#this was a whirlwind of emotions #jake is so sweet and caring #this man need’s forehead kisses now #can’t wait to see what happens next!#rebloging amazing ppl #moon knight #moon knight x reader #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #steven grant x reader #layla el faouly #taweret #khonshu #a rose under the moon #soulmate au

150 notes · View notes

yetanotheralien-heartemoji · 8 months ago

Text

Drawing under the cut

#my art #art #tradtional art #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #marcille donato #dungeon meshi spoilers #delicious in dungeon spoilers #farcille #I love these two girls I can’t wait to see what happens to them next

62 notes · View notes

coolerfox · 2 months ago

Text

finished turnabout legacy and i’m so so sad Gregory Edgeworth cared so much for Miles i’m gonna cry

#ace attorney #miles edgeworth #ace attorney investigations #gregory edgeworth #that case was so good i can’t wait to see what happens next omg

21 notes · View notes

the-crimson · 1 year ago

Text

My current theory on the true culprit of the great furniture purge: this is Roier’s enigma he was gonna make for Cellbit off stream and he did so with Richas’s help.

Evidence:

Richas was acting odd all day and his story kept changing with every conversation he had. I don’t trust a single thing that kid said cuz he even admitted he was only saying shit for the drama. His story changed every time someone asked him and he has been known to lie and cover up his parents pranks.

None of Roier’s builds - save the therapy office - we’re looted. Costco was filled with furniture even tho the Pizzaria literally 50 blocks away was looted. Even Roier’s house wasn’t looted when - in the past - Bad has liberated many a piece of furniture from there.

Evidence it was not Bbh:

Even when alone, Bad never dropped the story that it was not him. Cc!Bad is the most rp heavy player on the server with very distinct in character and out of character moments. When he is in character, it doesn’t matter whether he is alone or not, he will never mention meta or the fourth wall. Every other time Bad has pranked someone, the moment he is alone, he starts giggling to himself over the prank. For the entire stream, this did not happen.

If q!Bad did do this, he would have been ten times as thorough XD so many chairs and tables outside of peoples houses were left behind. Appliances like fridges and stoves were left behind. Flower pots and other decorations were left behind. If q!Bad had actually cracked and went on a furniture purge like this, there would be nothing left.

Tallulah and Chayanne’s bedroom was not looted and yet Bad is one of the only people on the server with access. AND there was a shiny blue chair inside the room that had not been touched. We all know blue furniture is Bad’s favorite. If he went on a furniture nabbing spree, this would have been the first thing he stole.

Q!Bad is not stupid. This kind of crime literally only points towards him and would incentivize people to vote for a furniture theft ban!! That is counter to what q!Bad wants! There is no possible logic that could lead to q!Bad being the culprit because he isn’t an idiot lol

In conclusion

I’ll admit, before Bad’s stream I was down for it being him because that would have been hilarious but shortly after he started stream, I knew it wasn’t and over the course of the stream, I became even more resolute in that opinion. It’s a shame that almost no one gave him a second to explain and immediately labeled him guilty but it certainly was fun to watch :D

#qsmp #crimson speaks #it was fun!#I can’t wait to see what happens next :D

96 notes · View notes

roseytoesy · 2 years ago

Text

I’m loving this storie so far! Looks like the mc is starting to slowly fall for the dragon. Hope he can rescue them.

Monster Mayhem: Donkeys & Dragons [PART 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Malleus Draconia Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: It turns out that befriending a dragon is not as terrible or difficult as you would have thought. But people, unsurprisingly, will always still be awful.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

The first week of your internment flew by shockingly fast.

Maybe because you were always at War—a perpetual cycle of making some demand or other (that usually centered around a desire for the barest levels of personal space or agency) only to be met persistently with the ancient, all-powerful, dragon equivolent of >:(

The clothes and toilet situation were already a lost cause. You knew this.

But there were so many other little things. And big things too, sure. But you can never fully realize how much you’re truly under someone’s thumb until you want to head off to do something utterly insignificant and cannot.

For example, your first morning in captivity you’d tried to boil a pot of water. It was nothing fancy, just a small kettle kit you kept in your travel bags for making warm drinks and reheating rations into something vaguely edible. You’d collected some bits of wood from the heaps of debris lying all over the place and gone about lighting a fire. You’d only just barely managed to get the little sticks smoking when a horrific screech sounded from overhead.

And then, WHUMP!

The spiked end of a black tail came crashing down, obliterating your little fire and sending bits of wood flying in all directions.

“What the fuck, man!”

Tsunotarou curled around you to hiss at the flattened sparks like some unholy snake.

“It’s just for my tea! My tea!” you howled. “I wasn’t going to burn your stupid house down!”

He’s shifted into his human form again not long after, and he looked down his nose at you like a fussy parent—arms crossed petulantly across his pale chest.

“Fire is dangerous for humans,” he snuffed, absolutely indignant. “If you find yourself requiring flames for anything at all, call for me and I will lend you some of mine.”

“I would have been fine,” you beseeched, looking at the shattered remains of your little campfire with a grumpy pout.

“Lilia says humans often overestimate their own constitutions,” Tsunotarou grouched, expression dour and stony. You were about to ask just who or what on Earth this ‘Lilia’ was supposed to be, when the dragon dipped his head in close to yours and nuzzled along your throat. You could feel the pinpricks of his fangs against the delicate skin over your pulse. “Which is why so many of your kind are massacred for their own foolishness. Or fall victim to plague and famine. Or wind up being burned alive. I would prefer that you not succumb to such a fate.”

You gulped, and that had been the end of that conversation.

Another time you’d tried to scale the banister to reach the bathroom on your own. It had been going pretty well, all things considered. There were plenty of nice footholds and it all had sort of settled at a slope, meaning you weren’t really climbing a wall so much as very slowly crawling up an incline like a determined slug.

You’d nearly made it to the top when you were scooped up by the back of your collar and promptly deposited at the other end of the room.

Of all the languages you half-spoke, Dragon was not one of them. But the snarling and snapping in your face certainly seemed like the rather universal ‘what do you think you’re doing?!’

“I was just trying to go the bathroom!” you argued. “No fires or anything!”

Tsunotarou’s large maw ducked down to growl into your much smaller one. He let out a series of exasperated clicks and chatter, the sharper or which were punctuated by sprays of green sparks from behind his teeth. His nostrils flared and the blast of dry heat that followed sent your head spinning and your hair gusting out behind you.

“I wasn’t going to fall,” you finally said, because you had a feeling that’s what you were being lectured about at the moment.

The rumbling growl that followed sounded like it had traveled all the way from the dark trenches of his bowels, or maybe even the very marrow of his bones. You could feel the ground vibrating under your feet.

“Fine,” you conceded. You weren’t exactly worried he was going to eat you anymore, but there were certainly… other things. Many dumb ways to die. “I won’t do it again.”

He harumphed at you, his head bobbing in what looked a bit like a nod. And then he turned and raked a gigantic claw across your little makeshift ladder of debris, flattening it into nothing with one, fell, swoop. You’d groaned and let yourself collapse listlessly back into the ensuing cloud dust.

There was also the time you’d nearly had a conniption because you were sick and tired of camping out on a frigid, stone, floor every night when you were trapped inside a literal castle.

“There are dozens—hundreds—of rooms in here,” you’d argued. “There’s got to be a bed in at least one of them.”

Tsunotarou had simply rolled over onto his side and arched a wing into the air, as if offering you the warm hollow beneath.

“You’re not comfortable,” you’d hissed, and he’d sulked ridiculously for the rest of the afternoon until you’d managed to finally come to a workable solution.

As in, dragging every goddamn mattress you could find into the cavernous ballroom that he’d long since seemed to claim as his Favorite Spot. You’d turned it into a game—see who could find the most comfy things and make the biggest squish pile. Being nearly a dozen times your size and having twice as many functional limbs that were capable of grabbing things, naturally Tsunotarou had come out as the winner. But now you had nearly endless pillows and blankets to snuggle into at night, so who’d really come out on top?

“I’ve never bothered to build a nest before,” he’d mumbled to himself, post victory. He patted gently at one of the thick duvets he’d swiped, expression almost whimsical. “It’s quite nice.”

“See,” you’d grinned, bouncing up and down on one of the springier mattresses. “I told you this was better.”

And so chuffed were you that you weren’t heading to sleep with a rock as your pillow for the first time all week, that you didn’t even complain when late into the evening he sneakily dragged you out of your plush pile and into his—tail wrapped snuggly around your waist and tucking you tightly against his ribs. I mean, his nest was much nicer than yours. It was only practical.

So, as anyone could see, your week had been far from easy.

But after those first days, once you had finally gotten a hand on all his nonsensical rules and you’d in turn concocted equally as many ways to try and circumvent them just enough to make yourself comfortable, things settled into a kind of domestic tranquility.

And that was when time started to drag.

You’d read the handful of books in your pack a dozen times over. You’d counted the cracks in the ceiling (one-hundred-and-thirty-two of them). You’d counted the stones on the floor (six-hundred-and-five). You’d sorted those stones into piles by shape, size, color. You lolled back against your cozy pile of blankets and thunked your head miserably against your pillow. Once. Twice. Three times. Four—

“What do you normally do all day?” you complained.

Tsunotarou lazily blinked awake. He lifted his giant, serpentine, head and glanced pointedly around the cavernous room before settling back into his mountain of blankets with a contented huff.

“You just sleep?” you frowned, baffled. “All the time?”

He rumbled unintelligibly at you for a moment before digging his claws into his nest with a long, lithe, stretch. And then those scales began to melt away, and soon enough he was pale, and bare, and rolling his way into your lap with a contented little grumble.

“What would you have me do instead?” he asked, voice thick with the syrupy warmth of sleep. He stretched again, like a big cat, and settled his head more firmly against your thighs. “Raid cities? Burn villages?”

“…Ideally no,” you grumbled, hands falling habitually to start running your fingers through the silky soft hair pooling along your abdomen. “I mean, there have got to be other things dragons do. You live for thousands of years.”

He hummed, neon eyes slipping closed. He pressed his forehead demandingly up into your palm and you rolled your eyes before obligingly sliding your digits lower to scratch at his scalp and around the base of his horns. That seemed to be his favorite.

“I am not wanted much of anywhere, I’m afraid,” he said finally with a defeated little sigh. It didn’t sound particularly self-deprecating, just… accepting. It made something sad and small curl in your gut. “So what else is there for me to do? Other than while away the hours.”

“There’s got to be something,” you pressed, that eking irritation born from boredom melting into something that was a bit too close to genuine concern for your liking. “Don’t dragons keep hoards? Treasures? That’s a thing, right?”

“Oh.” He blinked himself back into focus, as if only remembering in just that moment. “That is true. Would you like to see mine, then?”

“Aren’t hoards, like, private?” you asked, hesitant. Trying not to bring up the glaring elephant in the room that was ‘Hey. Yeah. So my friends and I totally broke in here in the first place to steal from said hoard. Not that we knew there was a dragon here. But like. I did, in fact, come here as an adventurer and a thief.’

“Naturally,” Tsunotarou hummed. You could feel it vibrate all the way up your hip. His lips quirked into a little, crooked, smile. “I’ll take you there now.”

The Treasure Room was as elaborate and expensive looking as the name implied, and it seemed to be the one area of the castle that had been spared the grey desolation that had seeped through the rest of it. It was enormous—certainly larger than even the grand, cavernous, room in which you’d recently been residing. And it was lined wall to ceiling with every variant of wealth you could imagine—precious metals, ancients tomes, paintings from every great master through history, magical weapons, the finest of spell scrolls. You could probably buy the world at least twice over with its contents.

But the thing that caught your eye amidst the endless sea of gold was not a pretty gemstone or a treasure of old, but a little, black and purple, doll—perched atop a looming pedestal of silks and finery like a crown jewel. It was small and plain with curling black horns made of felt. A chubby little dragon miniature that was as ugly as it was round.

Tsunotarou noticed your inquisitive gaze and walked over to pluck the little, cotton, creature from its throne. He held it delicately in his clawed fingers.

“Ah, yes. This is Drago. Lilia gifted him to me after one of his jaunts through the human world.” He turned the doll over in his palms, brow tugging down a bit as he did. “I hope he hasn’t been too terribly lonely. It has been a while since I’ve come down here to visit.”

The great and powerful dragon of the Castle Within The Lava Lake keeping a toy keepsake amongst his most prized possessions was so strikingly adorable that you couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the sight.

You brightened and turned on your heel to start making your way back to the ballroom and what remained of your adventuring gear. Tsunotarou made a noise under his breath that was too dignified to be a splutter, but what you assumed was more or less his refined equivolent. And then he was tagging at your heels with a perplexed look on his face.

“Where are you going?”

“To get something!” you chirped, mentally running through the contents of your bag and little sewing kits. Yes, there should be more than plenty to—

“To get what?” Tsunotarou pouted, and you realized belatedly that running off in the middle of him showing off his life’s accumulation of precious artifacts and accomplishments was perhaps a bit rude.

“It’s a surprise,” you said. “Just give me like half an hour to put it together.”

In the end, it really only took you around fifteen minutes of fussing. Drago was hardly a complex little thing, and you’d originally learned to stitch in a panic. Trying to mend holes in pants and leather was a lot harder to accomplish when you were being actively chased by bandits, or a raging Ace. In comparison, sitting merrily on the floor of a collapsed ballroom and shoving stuffing into a little ball of cloth was hardly a challenge.

You held out your creation—equally as ragtag and ridiculous looking as its inspiration.

“There,” you beamed, and pressed it into Tsunotarou’s hands. “Now he has a friend.”

A teeny, flesh-colored, blob. With strips of soft fabric for a cloak and a hastily stitched smile. A miniature bard, perfectly (?) encapsulated in his palm.

The dragon stared down at your offering with wide, green, eyes. He looked positively startled—so caught off guard that he didn’t know what to do with himself, let alone the bewildered expression flitting across his otherwise regal face.

“You said he might be lonely,” you hummed, rocking self-consciously back and forth on your heels.

“Oh,” Tsunotarou mumbled, black-tipped claws flexing around his new gift. He observed it carefully, like an aging academic might study some ancient, arcane, relic. There was still that strange look about him—like he couldn’t quite believe the little trinket in his hand was real. “I did, didn’t I...?”

When he remained silent after that, still staring down at your homemade abomination in awe? Horror? you couldn’t tell, you began fidgeting in earnest.

“It is kind of awful looking,” you rattled off, picking nervously at the hem of your cloak. “You can get rid of it if you want—”

“No,” he barked, and then paused, clearly surprised at the ferocity of what had come out of his mouth. That at least seemed to startle him out of whatever fog had settled over his brain, and he clutched the teeny toy firmly to his chest. He cleared his throat and started again, noticeably gentling himself. “No. I think I’d like to keep this.”

You smiled. “Good! I’m glad you like it! No one deserves to feel lonely—even little, toy, dragons.”

Tsunotarou’s lips curled into an awkwardly lopsided smile—like the muscles there weren’t used to tugging so wide. It lit the entirety of his expression with something so heart wrenchingly warm that you couldn’t help but feel like none of that had really been about the little doll at all.

You really should have known better.

If someone as illiterate and ill connected as your wandering gang of idiots could stumble upon the location of a ‘secret castle overburdened with ancient treasures,’ surely anyone even marginally more competent would be able to do the same.

You’d been at the tail end of your supply of rations. And while you hadn’t entirely meant to imply that you might just wind-up starving to death, the comment had been more than enough to send your dragon into a tizzy.

“Well, what do you normally eat?” you asked, and Tsunotarou frowned as he considered.

“My guards bring me sustenance when I require it. Ice elementals, goblins, stone giants,” he listed, eyes tracking your expression in hopes that maybe any of that sounded appetizing. Which it certainly did not. His nose scrunched up in thought. “Perhaps I should seek counsel with Lilia. He would know what to do.”

You cleared your throat. “I mean, I know what humans can eat. I could just tell you.”

His face brightened. “Meat, yes?”

You nodded. “Sometimes.”

“Like that of a manticore?” he continued, excited at the prospect. “Those are particularly delicious. And there are quite a few nesting in the crags not far from here.”

His merry smile slowly slipped off his face at whatever pinched look had twisted up yours.

“Vegetation?” he tried. “There are ample bushes at the foot of the volcano. Most do have thorns, but I suppose you could pick around them.”

“…Maybe you should talk to Lilia,” you conceded.

So Tsunotarou had shifted into his scales with a promise to return post-haste and many fussy reminders that you should move as little as possible to avoid wasting any more precious nutrients. The great downbeats of his wings seemed to roll through the entire castle like a shudder, and then you were alone for the first time in nearly a fortnight.

You lazed around in the echoing quiet, drumming bits of random tempos against your stomach and occasionally humming snatches of obnoxiously raunchy tavern tunes that you’d never really managed to bleach from your brain. How had Tsunotarou done this for decades? It’d barely been ten minutes and you were already bored out of your mind.

There was a flash of shadow near the grand entrance, and you sat up enthusiastically—ready to greet your returning host. But it wasn’t a dragon at the door.

“Who the hell are y—” the words died in your throat, and you spat a muted curse. The Silence Spell settled over your shoulders like a grungy cloak. You could feel its sticky film along the back of your tongue like a fine layer of moss.

“Who the fuck is that?” one of them hissed, and you fought the petulant ‘that’s just what I’d been about to ask you, jack ass!’ that wouldn’t have made it past your lips anyways.

There were six in total—a proper party from the looks of their ensembles. At least two people in full plate armor, a waify looking elf with a thick spell book in his hands, and three others in various getups that weren’t quite cookie cutter enough to tell you anything helpful. You rambled at them irritably, silently, gesturing rather impolitely all the while. You mimed teeth, and claws, and wings, and stomped around like a beast in a play.

‘There is a dragon here,’ you tried to say. Because maybe they were just unlucky adventurers like you and Tweedle Dee and Dum had been—not having any real idea what lay beyond these castle walls. You mimed a giant mouth, like a crocodile. ‘And he will eat you.’

“What the fuck?” Armored Dude gaped.

You pointed irritably at Mister Elf Wizard, who was still very obviously concentrating on keeping you encircled in a mesh of absolute silence.

The itchy sensation clogging your throat eased and you let out a breath, which echoed loudly in your ears. Elf-Guy looked at you with something that was perhaps a shade or two off of sympathy.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “What are you doing here?”

“You need to leave,” you replied instead, firm. “There’s a dragon that lives in this castle.”

“Of course there’s a dragon,” Armored Lady scoffed. “Why do you think we’re here?”

You looked at their heavy, expensive, armor. At the giant, shining, magical, weapons hanging across their backs. At the thin wizard who proceeded catch you in a Hold Person spell that was so fast and strong you couldn’t have dispelled it if you tried. And of course you tried. What else could you do? These people weren’t like you and your loveable idiots who managed to occasionally stumble their way into an adventure. These guys were the real deal. Warriors. Heroes. Dragon Slayers.

“God-fucking-damn it.”

But of course you’d been caught in Silence once again, so you were left cursing nothing.

[TAG LIST]

@marvelous-maxi, @ilikefanfics4, @jackalope08, @crocwork-clockodile, @cosmicobubisi, @buttplugs-stuff, @pomefleur, @decemebercircus, @ailynyan, @genzombie, @meliade-ot, @sunlightocean, @theofficialantitherapist, @hermiona18, @sailorenthusiast, @fantasy-dating-sim-trash, @thefiasco-onyourblock, @insideous-beez, @its-clockwork-princess

@novaloptr, @imlost-sendhelp, @matcha-berry @preciosayorgullosa @whoretaglia, @kookygirlwholikescookiesandcoke, @nanauedorian, @trixeraptops, @voxnipop, @starkling25, @thedum1, @horcrux-alchemist, @sleepykitty21, @apathicace, @instantregret101, @nekanecorvus, @looney-mori, @re-ducing, @my2phetaliaheadcanons, @naughtybodypillow, @rendy-a, @carmen-404, @candy284, @thealiennamedterry, @their-name-is-fake, @huetolog, @glacticrose, @seraphinariddle, @rabioa, @sn00zl4x, @dreasimping, @jeidoreech, @ai-dev, @galaxyshine24-7, @fatally-incorrect, @juulranch, @camrastuff, @nocteetdie, @stargaryengirl,

#favorite #good writing #twisted woanderland #twst #I love it!#that doll scene was so gosh dang cute #and the best #hehe!#heck ya!#can’t wait to see what happens next!#your stories are so good!#good job

2K notes · View notes