#discord wives stuff

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

no class today and the morning is young, so i'm watching some more married at first sight (s15) and the husbands and wives are doing separate activities for the honeymoon stuff and is2g the juxtaposition

the wives at brunch: so how are everyone else's journeys going?

the husbands at their tequila tasting: alright we've been here a little bit, we've been connecting with our wives - so let's find out who fucked their wife first

[husbandograveyard]

This is my contribution to a Discord Server exchange. My recipient is @lale-txt - an honour, truly.

Henlo Lale, I am your [no longer secret] secret summer...santa? Fairy? Either way, I set out to write you a little thing and then it became a slightly bigger than little thing. I think it may actually be my longest Tumblr fic to date. I hope you enjoy it, I had quite a lot of fun writing it -it took me out of a writing slump even. You gave me SO MANY delicious prompts to work with, but I eventually settled for my very first instinct, fake dating / married with Tengen. Sending you loads of love!

Tengen Uzui x Fem!Reader - SFW - 5.0k words cw/notes: fake dating / fake marriage | mention of injuries | In series | a hint of angst but all comfort after | Readers body does not get described, but female pronouns are used, reader is referred to as wife, girlfriend, woman, etc. | Tengen has his wives, they are mentioned, but they are not actively in the story | Tengen is still an active Hashira |

“So let me get this straight…” 

You were rubbing the bridge of your nose, trying to massage away the headache that was brewing. There was no way you’d be successful with the way this situation was going. 

“You have not one, not two…but three wives. Yet you are asking me to pretend to be another one of your wives because…?” 

“Because they are all out on their own missions and for this super-secret undercover one I have to have a partner otherwise they will not let me in.” 

Tengen was smiling, eyes full of hope and sparkles, and you had to resist the urge to punch his beautiful face just to wipe the smirk off of it. He was so casual about it too, as if it was only logical, and you were the one confused about the situation. 

You bit your lip, physically trying to bite back snarky remarks. An actual filter for your words, if you will, while your brain was too preoccupied trying to make sense of the situation. You sighed, taking another deep breath before clapping your hands together in front of your face, resting them against your lips and then pointing them at him, the only way to express your mixed annoyance and frustration. 

“Tengen, first of all, the mission is not super-secret, we literally all just heard the details. Secondly, there are a multitude of ways for you to carry out the mission or infiltrate that do not entail you going undercover as a couple at the retreat!” 

He held his hands up in defense, shaking his head at your arguments.

“That wouldn’t really be a flashy way of handling the situation. You know I need to do my work in my own way.” 

You shook your head in response, but still indulged him a little by asking what was in it for you. A smile appeared on his lips, and you realized that you had just shown him your cards. You had shown a little interest in the plan, and that was all he needed to give you the final push towards agreeing with him. 

“Well, you would be able to go on a deluxe retreat with me of all people”, he started his reasoning. You just rolled your eyes in response. 

“It’s fully paid, and I will take care of you all weekend. Since you will be posing as one of my wives -or a girlfriend if you feel more comfortable just doing that, you will be treated the way I always treat my wives, which is a treat in and of itself.” 

You raised an eyebrow, keeping up your skeptic facade, but you had to admit that it didn’t sound all that bad. Tengen may be a little peculiar, and definitely could stand to keep his mouth shut on more occasions, but you did know he was a wonderful partner, and going on a date -or this retreat- with him wouldn’t be a bad experience per se. Except for the obvious part: the demons who were the reason that this mission existed in the first place. It was as if he had read your mind though, speaking up to address your one concern: 

“It’s still my mission, no worries about fighting and stuff. I will protect you!” 

You rolled your eyes again, you weren’t a meek damsel in distress, you fought demons just the same. You probably wouldn’t even have minded helping out with the actual mission part. But you also knew just how stubborn Tengen could get, and if it was a mission that he’d easily do by himself, he wouldn’t let you unnecessarily endanger yourself just to help. 

You were quiet for a little bit, pretending to mull it over. Your decision was already made, but you didn’t want to seem too eager. It became increasingly hard to say no to the sparkles in his eyes and his wide toothy grin. 

“Sure. I’ll be your wife for the weekend. But you better spoil me.” 

“Of course. I have never disappointed a woman!”

He laughed loudly, and you couldn’t help but feel a little jolt of electricity coursing through your body. Were you really that excited? 

Tengen hadn’t lied about the resort being luxurious. Sure, it was in the middle of nowhere, and sure, there were barely any people around, and sure, you knew that the forests surrounding you were crawling with demons the second the sun went under… but it was beautiful, and it was clear the clientele was a of a way higher standing than the people you usually mingled with. You felt a little out of place even, and you were surprised to see just how relaxed Tengen was, how well he blended in. It made more and more sense that he had been selected for this mission. 

You had been briefed on the details of the mission, but Tengens expectations of you were clear: just enjoy the weekend and be his loyal and loving wife for two days. You weren’t expected to fight or do any recon, but he would keep you updated on all the information he found, and you would just keep an eye out, the way you always do, even off-duty. 

Other than that, some boundaries were established: you were to fake being husband and wife, but there was no reason for unnecessary PDA. Everything was cleared with his wives as well, and you had to admit you really appreciated his consideration and consent. The way he went over all kinds of scenarios beforehand to gauge just what you would be okay with had made you feel some type of way. It had also made you realize that you were okay with a lot of things, way more than you would expect yourself to agree to. A small voice in the back of your head kept saying: ‘If it is him, I suppose it would be okay’, which made you wonder just why you were so willing to receive affection from him, faked or otherwise. 

Checking in with him having wrapped an arm around your waist made you feel more safe than you thought it would. You were strong and could fend for yourself, but that always had made past partners feel like they had to treat you like someone who was fiercely independent, someone who didn’t need as much pampering as you sometimes craved. It was nice to not even have to ask for that, feel safe and protected without feeling like he was looking down on you. He acknowledged your strength, it was just not your time right now to be strong. It was time to relax, and let him take care of you, and most of that was conveyed through simple gestures as you finished check-in and got settled in your room. 

He carried your bags, held your hand or had an arm wrapped around your shoulder and opened doors for you. The way he so effortlessly fell into the role of your husband made it easier for you to take on your role as wife as well. You leaned into his touches, and you didn’t even have to fake the smile that was on your lips most of the day. You had to remind yourself to sometimes still roll his eyes and deliver a playful slap to his bicep, especially when it was just the two of you and there was no reason to keep up the act. 

“It’s easier to just stay in the role”, you explained your behavior to him when he shot you a curious look after closing the door behind the two of you, “That way if someone walks in on us unexpectedly, there is no scrambling to get back into it.” 

He nodded in agreement, but you didn’t fail to notice the glimmer in his eyes as he did so, slightly smiling. Did he notice something was off? Probably. But even if he did, he didn’t mention or ask anything, and you were glad he didn’t: you weren’t sure if you could tell exactly what was going on either. 

Tengen was gone for a big part of the afternoon, doing recon and mission prep. 

“Nothing for you to worry your pretty head about,” he had said with a grin, and he had left with a promise to come join you at the pool whenever he was done. You were allowed to spend the afternoon as you wanted, so you had grabbed a book, and found a nice spot by the pool. You settled in with a drink and a fruit platter, enjoying the sun on your face and an occasional swim to cool down before letting yourself get carried away into the fantasy world of your book again. 

“Yo~ Looks like you’re having a good time even without me here?” 

You were startled by Tengen’s sudden appearance, standing next to your chair. You remembered your role swiftly though, looking up at him with a smile. 

“Oh you’re back, dea-” 

You interrupted yourself, blinking a couple of times, finding yourself flustered and a little shocked by the sight in front of you. Tengen had changed into swimwear too, which made sense considering the environment, but for some reason you hadn’t expected to come face to face with his abs when you looked up from your book. His usual tight clothes left not that much to the imagination, but his tight swimwear took away what little fantasy you still had left. You couldn’t stop your eyes from wandering just a little, from his chest to his abs to his muscled thighs, a part usually hidden by his baggy pants, back up to whatever tiny scrap of fabric was hiding the essentials. You felt your face heat up, and opened your mouth a few times to finish your sentence, but you couldn’t, momentarily stunned into silence. It felt like hours before he moved, a few beautiful, wonderful hours, but in reality it must’ve been only a few seconds if it was even that long at all. 

He just chuckled, crouching down by your side to hand you another drink, kissing your cheek, seamlessly picking up the conversation. 

“I’m sorry for taking so long, I know I promised I’d only take a small nap”

You swallowed, taking the drink, the cold glass helping you return to your senses, playfully smacking his arm. 

“And then you fell asleep and I had to escape your loud snoring, as always.” 

There you go, you were right back into your role. He laughed in response, taking the chair next to you. You sipped some of your drink, regaining your focus and calming your senses. You were taken off guard by your own reaction to Tengen. This was all just a little play you were putting on for the sake of the mission, right? And as his wife, you definitely shouldn’t be having such an extreme reaction to seeing him like that. And yet. 

You had expected Tengen to leave you the minute the sun went under, but he had surprised you by saying he’d have dinner together with you -better to keep up his cover. You’d go early enough so he wouldn’t miss out on too much of the evening, but long enough to actually lure out the demons and carry out the mission swiftly. 

You were pleasantly surprised by the idea. After spending all afternoon at the pool you had expected that was as far as the act would go for today. After all, you had swum together, sat together in the pool, a strong arm around you as you found yourself trying not to focus of the feeling of his body pleasantly pressed into yours, and talked a little about your book. You found yourself really enjoying his company -way more than you expected when you had agreed to this mission-, and getting to extend this quality time, whatever the nature of it, was an enjoyable add-on.

You went back to get changed, and had to do another double take when Tengen appeared in a hibiscus violet kimono, perfectly complimenting his eyes. His hair was loose, waves still damp from your earlier activities, and framed his face perfectly. He smiled at you in your kimono, complimenting you on your looks. 

“You look absolutely gorgeous tonight, my wife.” 

He added extra emphasis on those last two words, in a way that was barely noticeable for anyone listening along -even though you were alone in your room. Besides that little inside joke, his words sounded genuine. You chuckled in response, waving his compliment away with your hand and shaking your head. You weren’t sure how you were feeling about your body reacting to his words, but you hoped the butterflies that had come to settle in your stomach would quiet down, so you could enjoy the food. 

During dinner Tengen was a perfect gentleman again: holding your hand all the way till the restaurant part of the resort, only letting go to open doors for you and taking out your chair. The food was exquisite, dishes you had never had the opportunity to taste before, every single one tasting heavenly. 

You were mostly surprised by how easily you were making conversation. Initially, you feared it’d be a bit of a hassle, considering you had to pretend to be married, and there was no way you could talk about work to not break your cover. You had started just talking about how you liked the resort, the food and then the conversation had switched to old memories, and through them you got to know each other a little better. The conversation felt intimate, sharing memories you normally wouldn’t share with just a coworker, just a casual friend. But the stories proved to be the best possible way for you to pass the time without being off topic or suspicious, and since all the stories were true, you didn’t even have to lie to make them believable. 

Tengen listened to you intently as you talked, laughing loudly whenever you added a funny remark, and whenever he did so, you felt the butterflies fluttering in your chest. By now you were painfully aware of your predicament, but there was very little you could say about it in the moment without blowing your cover. Besides, you had to keep in mind that this was just for the mission. After this weekend you would go back to being coworkers, friends maybe, but nothing much more than that. It would be improper. 

You weren’t sure if Tengen was this good an actor, or if he was genuinely having the conversation you were having. You only knew that he seemed a little startled when he noticed just how dark it had gotten already, and seemed a little out of it when he announced that it may be for the best for you to retreat to your room. The way he winked at you when he said that made your heart skip a beat, even though you rationally knew it was merely an excuse again for anyone who could possibly overhear. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel like he was a little disappointed to cut your date short as well. 

You woke up in the middle of the night, confused and disoriented for a few seconds before you remembered where you were. You weren’t sure how late it was, but there was still no trace of the sun coming up in the distance, so you couldn’t have slept for that long yet. Tengen had gone off to do the mission work right after dropping you off at the room, sneakily escaping through the window, and you had decided to go to sleep not that long after. You asked him multiple times if he needed or wanted any help, and he had assured you just as many times that he would be perfectly fine. 

Staying behind like that, while you had agreed upon it initially, worked against all your instincts: you knew you could be useful out there. It was hard not to worry. Tengen had shared some details on the mission, but had kept you in the dark for most of it, mentioning that with too many details you might come after him or try to help even though your only job today was to relax. During the day, that was not a very hard task to accomplish, but by night, especially when you were all alone here in your room, it became so much harder to ignore your very nature as a demon slayer. Especially knowing Tengen was out there risking his life. No matter how strong anyone was, there would always be a risk when you go out. 

There was very little you could do right now though. You had no idea of Tengen’s game plan, nor did you know his exact location. If you went out now, you would only endanger yourself and possibly risk the entire plan failing. You knew when to stay put, so you did, but that didn’t mean it was an easy move. 

It didn’t help that you were wide awake now, too overwhelmed by a mixed bag of emotions, too many of them to sort out. You were feeling antsy, muscles itching to do something, anything. You couldn’t help but feel a little worried too, listening to the quiet outside for any noises that might give away what was going on outside. But the only noises greeting you back were those of nocturnal woodland critters. 

And then there were the…other feelings, by lack of a better term. You had been feeling some type of way towards Tengen today, and while you could probably define them more precisely, you weren’t sure if you actually wanted to. After all, no matter how open minded he was, it felt a little wrong to develop a crush on your coworker. Especially since he was happily married. Thrice. 

Yet you couldn’t deny the spots where he had touched and held you today under the guise of your fake relationship were feeling a little warmer, a pleasant warmness that made you feel a little safer, even now he wasn’t around. 

You could deny any less that the image of him in his swimwear by the pool was burned into your retinas, the mere idea making your face heat up just a little. 

Your main concern now was for him to get back safely. After that you would figure out what to do with all the feelings stirring inside you. Maybe you would address them, talk to him about it. But just as well, you’d suppress them, waiting for them to eb away as you spent less time together. Most missions were solo anyway. 

You looked out the window, the sky in the distance faintly changing colors from an inky black to a deep blueish purple. It wouldn't be long before those transitioned to purples, pinks and reds as the sun came up. It was later than you expected it to be, and you had hoped that Tengen would wrap up before sunrise. Either way, the mission would be paused or -hopefully- be finished when the morning started. You very consciously left out the third option: the mission had failed, and you were waiting for someone who wouldn’t return. 

You felt safe, you felt warm. 

There was a certain serenity that came with your current state: unbothered, ready to conquer the world. You woke up to the warmness of the sun on your face, and you had to blink a couple of times before your eyes got adjusted to the brightness of the light. Why was it light? 

You jolted up, suddenly realizing you must’ve fallen asleep again. The sudden movement caused Tengen to groan in pain. Tengen. He was back. 

It took you a few seconds to puzzle everything together. It was definitely day now, almost noon, judging by the position of the sun, and the brightness with which it shone. You hadn’t noticed Tengen coming back, at least not consciously so, but he was back. He was back and he was alive. A wave of relief washed over you, only to be quickly replaced with embarrassment, as you realized just how you were laying. Your futon a few yards away, your body resting half on top of Tengen’s instead; his groan had been a reaction to your elbow punching his ribcage as you got up a little too fast. He still had an arm loosely wrapped around your waist, and you had finally gained enough clarity to notice some dried up blood on his skin. 

You sat up completely, more carefully now, looking over at Tengen. His eyes were still closed, but he seemed awake enough. His face was contorted into a slightly pained expression, and you noticed now that he was covered in bruises and small cuts. No injury bad enough to worry you, but still, enough of them for you to feel guilty. You really should have insisted on coming with him. 

You got up to gather your medical supplies, noticing they were out and about already. Grabbing some gauze, water, a clean towel and disinfectant, you sat down next to him and started cleaning off the dried blood, disinfecting cuts and scrapes where necessary. This did wake Tengen up fully, and he sat up just a little with another groan. He didn’t stop you from your work, instead silently removed his shirt so you had better access and a better overview. 

This time your reaction to his naked torso was different: you gasped when you noticed some nasty wounds, things an experienced Hashira like him shouldn’t have if the mission was as routine as he had made it out to be. Any and all admiration for his physique was immediately replaced by worry, and you immediately got to taking care of the wounds as much as you could. 

It was silent for a bit as you worked, Tengen not reacting at all, except for muscles sometimes twitching as you touched him. You were the first to speak up, as you were almost done taking care of him, smoothing over a bandage with gentle motions. 

“What happened last night?” 

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. You didn’t say a word, kept your face neutral. You gave him the time and space he needed to come up with an explanation. How the demon wasn’t entirely like his recon had made him think it was. How his traps had been avoided, and how the battle was a hard fought one. He did finish the job -of course- but it hadn’t been as flashily as he had hoped, and moreso, he had taken a while to get back to the resort, the demon nearly getting away as he ran further and further away from the resort when it became clear that the battle was lost. 

“When I came back here, the sun was almost up again, and I found you resting with your head on the windowsill, as if you had fallen asleep looking out, waiting for me. I will admit that made me feel guilty, maybe I should have asked you to come along after all.”

You nodded, agreeing with his words, but you knew why he had made the decisions he did. He was safe, and that was all that matters, you weren’t sure if you could handle the loss of another friend. The fact that he made you worried paled in comparison to the more joyful one that he was safe, not as hurt as he could have been and made his way back to you eventually. 

“I think I woke you up a little by climbing  back into the room, but you weren’t fully awake.” He chuckled now, his tone way more lighthearted than when he was telling you the details of his fight. 

“You mumbled my name, and when I went to move you to your futon, you clinged onto me so hard that I didn’t get to put you down without moving you. Hence our position when you woke up earlier.” 

You smiled sheepishly, apologizing for your sleeping self, feeling a little flustered at the way you must’ve acted. Tengen didn’t seem too bothered by it though, if anything he seemed amused. 

“It’s okay. Very flattering to have you clinging to me like a little koala bear.” 

“If you weren’t injured, I’d smack you right now.” 

He just laughed in response, and the sound reawakened the butterflies. You felt the heat creep up your neck, towards your ears, and you decided to hide your state by cleaning up your supplies and already repacking your bag. You’d be going home today, after all, and maybe for the best. You weren’t sure just how much longer you could last in his presence. 

The decision to go home early came pretty easy. It would be a hassle to explain how your ‘husband’ got hurt during the night, and it would be even harder to avoid stares or questions as you spent more time in the resort, especially if you would spend more time at the pool. 

You insisted that Tengen get his injuries checked out properly as well, even though he was adamant that he’d be fine. You were just a little worried, and you were by no means a healer, you didn’t want him to scar unnecessarily. 

The trip back was quiet for the most part, a comfortable silence, mostly broken by Tengen asking questions or talking away. Hard for a sound hashira to stay completely silent the whole way, it didn’t match his personality either. You were too caught up in your own head to truly participate in the conversations, though, and you were sure Tengen at least noticed as much. 

When the time came to part ways, you lingered just a little too long, pretending to just double check your possessions. Tengen lingered too, waiting nearby, when you finally realized what he was probably waiting for. 

“Here you go”, you held out your hand, returning the jewelry he had given you to match his for the mission, a little extra detail to make you more officially like husband and wife. You had played with one of the rings on the way back, twisting it around your finger a couple of times, trying to stop your mind from imagining what it would be like wearing the jewelry in earnest. 

He looked confused for a second -was it not what he was waiting for? and then shook his head. 

“Oh no, you can keep those. Think of them as a token of my appreciation, and a fun memory of our relationship, which lasted the full two days”, he said with a wink, making your brain a jumbled mess again with just two sentences. 

“If you insist”, you managed to squeak out, and you carefully tucked the jewelry away again, slipping one of the rings around your middle finger, pleased with the way it looked. It also helped you steer your focus away from Tengen, who was still standing very close to you, and you were hoping he’d step back before you’d have to make eye contact again. He didn’t though. Instead, you felt his hand carefully cup your jaw, tilting your face just as carefully, so you could no longer stare at your fingers. His thumb caressed your cheek, and you were sure he must feel the heat radiating from your face, enough to burn that hand. Even if he noticed, he didn’t show, instead just smiling at you. 

“Thank you for being my wife for two days. It really was an honor to have you by my side for a little while, and you did actually help a lot, this mission.” 

You shrugged in response, painfully aware that you’d be unable to form long intricate sentences as long as he was touching you like that, looking at you like that, standing close to you like that. 

“It was just a little m-mission. I barely did anything.” 

He chuckled.

“No, I think you did plenty.” 

He leaned down, kissing your cheek to kiss you goodbye, missing your lips by an inch, and you felt your legs almost give way as your knees buckled. 

“whaoh; didn’t think such a small and unflashy gesture would have such an effect on you?” He smirked, his tone teasing. Oh, he was fully aware of what had been happening, and you just walked right into his trap. 

“I- you-” You took a deep breath, not wanting to stutter your way through an explanation. You weren’t even sure what you were trying to explain. How would you even tell him that-

“Don’t you worry, I know what’s been going on. This mission may or may not have been a little push, and my wives may or may not have been in the know. I am not saying that Hina came up with the idea, but I am saying she may have been involved even more than the two others.”

He smiled while you were trying to process his words, a task too big for your brain to manage, as his lips had left you unable to properly think. 

“How about I invite you over sometime soon, hm? A proper date, no pretenses. See how it goes?” 

You couldn’t do anything but just nod, still processing what was going on. He smirked; that very handsome smirk again and leaned down once more to leave the shortest and softest kiss on your lips. 

“I’ll contact you soon then.” 

[aeantizlkamenwati]

The Hound

So @the-kingshound updated and I dove headfirst into feelings and needed to get some feelings out...So I wrote a thing. As you do. A bit terrified to post outside of anon, but...2.5k words is too much for an ask and the discord...so...here we are.

Some moderate CW though, it contains depression, sexism (I know most people aren't going to want to delve into this sort of stuff because it's escapism, but I find it cathartic and validating when it's at least acknowledged how shitty it is to have a uterus at any point in time), and my Hound is not the nicest person around. (Arthur please don't give up on her, she'll get there)

OH and a part is inspired by a really old poll Kal asked about what color we'd like our dog-hounds to be and I know everyone went with the Christian Black Hound of Hell cause it IS iconic and spooky, but I was going...but a white hound would mean something to the Welsh. It makes a statement. SO I added it in the end to soften the angst.

Enjoy below the cut because I have no chill.

Guinevere stared across her small table at the King. Her husband, she supposed, though in the eyes of the court the title was not official. He seemed unable to meet her bright red eyes—not uncommon in her experience. Even in her own House people struggled to hold her gaze. More than once had she overheard whispers of the unsettling otherworldly heir, the one that must’ve been taken by some spirit or another.

Here was no different, only the terms changed. Annwn, Arawn, Mallt-y-Nos all were whispered as she walked past instead of Da Derga. ‘Bad omen that one’ was still the same though. ‘It’ll be the death of the Pendragons, letting one such as her share a bed with the King,’ in some form or another.

She waited patiently, stoically for the King to sort through whatever went on in his head. She refused to let her gaze leave him. To show any sign of weakness lest he go for her throat so to speak. She watched him as any prisoner might when face to face with their judge and executioner.

Arthur, as a person, was not…terrible. Though the most she saw of him was at their wedding, to be fair. Her hackles bristled at even the memory of the word. Wedding. It was nothing more than a celebration of her family’s downfall. The handfasting, nothing more than a shackle, a collar to show the might of Camelot.

But it was not yet a total victory.

After all, there were still more humiliations the king could bring against House Venegard. One, in particular, she dreaded more than others. She understood her duty, of course, and she would bear the torment like the cliffs do the raging sea…

That did not mean her stomach did not cramp. That bile did not coat her tongue. Her fists clenched in her lap, waiting those dreadful words, the terrible command. Her throat tightened against the rising emotions. Her skin prickled.

‘It won’t come to that,’ Saraah had told her. Radel and Ghaven had tried to comfort her as well. In their own way. Ghaven told her to use their wedding present on Arthur if he tried. It…it did make her laugh despite the crushing despair. Saraah had tried to tell her she’d be safe, that they doubted Arthur would force her to do anything.

She loved her siblings, but…she also knew they didn’t understand, not truly. They were, in the judging eyes of the law, men. They had the rights to their wives—not including Saarah of course.

They did not get the lectures from their mother about how to cut one’s own throat or womanhood should they ever be captured. They did not hear old wives tell horror stories of their first nights. They were not told tricks to get through it, how to fix themselves afterwards because their husband would just leave them once he was through—or fall asleep. They did not hope to die with the birth of their firstborn so they did not have to suffer anymore violations.

After all, what could be more symbolic of the King’s victory than breaking her in their marriage bed as his father did his mother so long ago?

Guinevere bit her tongue to keep her numbness in place. Pain forced her back into the hardened warrior her House had demanded she become. She remembered her mother telling her to never let any man see her scared, see her cry, and she refused to disappoint her.

Arthur cleared his throat. He straightened in his seat. He tried his best to look calm, but there was…some kind of nervous energy. He picked at his fingers out of reflex. His mouth opened and closed a few times. “I wished to ask you something,” he started carefully.

Her stomach twisted sharply. The slight dizziness that plagued her since her betrothal sent sparks over her eyes. She could already understand where this was no doubt going. The court had been rather loud as of late, crying that the marriage was not true. She was only surprised they didn’t demand the King show them the bedsheets afterwards.

She signed without feeling, as always, “Come to take your dues, then?”

Arthur blinked, reminding her of a puppy. “Beg pardon?”

She shrugged, each motion empty of any semblance of emotion. “I’m surprised they’ve let you wait this long. They seem quite eager for you to show me my place.” Her eyes drifted around the room. She noted the places she stashed weapons…assuming Gwyar hadn’t moved them again. They seemed exasperated every time they found a new hiding place…but they also didn’t take the weapons either.

“That’s not what I…” Arthur shook their head, as though trying to shake the thoughts into line. “I’m not—”

“So, a mistress then, that’s to be my humiliation,” Guinevere nodded to herself. “Probably for the best.” Her fingers gently traced the horrific scar across her neck, hidden by her bodice. “Wouldn’t wish to sully the Pendragon line with a wraith.” It was a stark reminder he did not wed a delicate flower, she fought and bled against him. One of his people nearly took her head off.

And the sick part was…she wished they had.

She shook her head against the darkness creeping up her spine. She figured out long ago she would never be a beautiful maiden; she would not be swept off her feet, or whatever Saarah’s fantasies were. She didn’t know why it still stung at this point.

She slowly rose from her seat. The fabric of her dress pulled and tugged uncomfortably against her movements. The neckline rubbed and scratched at the scar. Almost like feeling the rough, chipped edge of the sword again.

Her fingers were cold against her neck. She put them between her skin and the stupid Camelotian garment. Gwyar had convinced her it might be wise to attempt to acclimate to…here. Apparently, some of the court were scandalized by her tattoos. They apparently made her petite-self intimidating, like a barbarian. Or some other drivel.

Maybe they just didn’t want to admit her eyes scared them. Or maybe they were just trying to test to see if the King’s new dog would bite.

She plucked the letters from the table. The seal she was beginning to recognize as Saraah’s glared up at her in accusation. She assumed the others were from various other siblings he had corralled into sending to her. Probably sometime after the fifth letter she didn’t reply to.

She blew out a breath before placing them with the growing pile on her desk. Weight pulled at her bones. The old habit of talking to Saraah begged for her to try. Her chest hurt at the pain she must be causing them.

She drifted away before she could crumble. She had already broken in front of them; she would not do it again. She was the seventh heir of House Venegard. It was time she acted like it. Her feet took her to the window as they often did. Not to stare out over her new domain, but to the sky where birds played with the clouds.

A chair scraped over the floor. Perhaps the King grew tired of her. Or, more likely, he had other arrangements. Spending time with prisoners was hardly worth his time, but still nice of him to stop by, she supposed.

“I wanted to ask how you are,” Arthur’s voice disrupted her quiet contemplation of a flock of birds. She looked to the side as if she could see him behind her. Her back tensed. “We haven’t been able to speak since…” He didn’t say the words as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Your brother asked after you, well his husband asked, but on his behalf, I’m sure.”

Slowly, she turned, smoothing her face against anything that might show the crushing weight on her heart. “I am fine.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes at the simple answer. He kept quiet as he observed her carefully, as if he could pull answers from her like a sword from a stone. “If there is something I can do to make you more comfortable…”

“You cannot.” Her hands moved like swords, cutting off the line of questioning. “As I told Morien and Gwyar, I will remain living.”

Any more than that, she could not guarantee. She would pretend she was collared and leashed, sit when told, rollover as necessary, endure whatever she had to keep House Venegard alive. She would hide what and who she was, bury it so deep down it would crush her very soul into nothingness.

The two of them engaged in a strange staring contest. Her rubies as lifeless as the gems themselves against his captured-skies bright and beckoning freedom. He tapped a finger against the table. She could see him thinking and sorting through the thoughts, or perhaps he was trying to sift through the dense mist of her façade.

“Would you accompany me this afternoon?” he asked suddenly. “I was going to take Mordred, and I know we would both delight in your company as well.”

*****

Why she went was a mystery even to her. Perhaps it was strategic? To be seen with her husband and…stepchild? Show they did have some sort of relationship to keep the nobles at least somewhat complacent.

Maybe she just had a weakness for the child. Or was curious about the destination. Maybe after weeks drifting alone inside her rooms, only venturing out in the mornings to the dead training grounds or for mandatory appearances, she was going mad.

Arthur was pleased with themselves. They had a soft smile and a spring in their step as they escorted the group to a building. A kennel if the baying of hounds told her anything. Mordred’s hand tugged on their sleeve, eyes wide in either excitement or question. Arthur smiled wider. “Yes, they sent word this morning.”

And with those cryptic words, he pushed open the door and gestured for Mordred to go through. The child hesitated, but whatever was beyond the door drew them forward just the same. Arthur turned his smile to her, holding the door for her.

Guinevere eyed him oddly as she passed—well as best she could without pulling her neck muscles. She ignored the softest brush of warmth coming off him, reminding her how cold she always felt. She looked around the humble abode instead.

It did not take long for her eyes to find Mordred…being swarmed by wriggly, wobbly puppies. The mother hound watched over her litter like a queen, but didn’t appear to mind them entering her space. Her tail wagged as Arthur stepped inside behind Guinevere.

She blinked at the one, two, three…six puppies all bounding around on their tiny legs. Two were gnawing on each other’s legs, while a third played with one’s ear. One was pulling at Mordred’s tunic. Another was getting scooped by the child.

A bit of ice inside her chest cracked. It sizzled and popped at the scene. She turned to look up at Arthur. “Puppies?” she signed in confusion. “You brought me to see puppies?”

Arthur smiled. “Yes? They are cute and these ones the houndmaster said were old enough for a visit now.” He shrugged, though the way his eyes moved over the scene made her think he was up to something.

Of course, she always thought he was up to something, she supposed. Still…unless he was going to order the bitch to tear out her throat for good this time…what harm could puppies do?

“I was once told the Irish have great reverence for their hounds,” he eyed her, “even going so far as to give their great warriors and kings the epithet ‘hound’.”

She blinked at him, the nod almost involuntary. Why did he care to know that? Why bring it up? Her chest felt…twitchy under all the ice and darkness. She gave him a probing stare, trying to find answers. “Cú,” she spelled carefully, “it shows they are worthy of the loyalty hounds give.”

“I find it rather…beautiful to think a king is only worthy of his title if he is worthy of his hound first.” He smiled again, before motioning towards the puppies.

Ignoring the strange…prickle in her chest that his cryptic words seemed to conjure, she approached carefully, keeping an eye on the mother before gathering her dress to sit on the ground. The unoccupied puppy plodded its way towards her. It gave a little whine, perhaps a practice growl, before sniffing her. It was black like its mother with wavy fur.

Still, her chest clenched tightly. She made little tongue clicks at the puppies. Her hands petted the brave one that came up to her first. It wobbled and fell to the side. Her mouth parted in a soft laugh, more audible puffs of air than anything. Tiny teeth gnawed at her fingers as she tickled the soft belly.

When the puppy had its fill of her play, it tottered off to a group that gathered near Arthur. For a moment, their eyes met. Bloody red and heavenly blue. A strange pang struck Guinevere’s chest like a shard of ice had stabbed her heart as it broke away. She pulled her eyes down to his hands.

And found a tiny white ball of fur held safely against his chest.

She blinked. A glance at the rest of the litter found only blacks and a few red or fawn ones. The mother’s ears perked as the tiny bundle squeaked. She panted before sniffing the air as if trying to decide if the squeak was distress.

Arthur followed Guinevere’s eyes and gave the tiny bundle a soft smile. He shuffled over to her side, careful to keep a distance between them. He rubbed at the little puppy’s head. “This little one the houndmaster was worried wouldn’t make it,” he spoke softly, glancing up at her. “She’s the runt—and well,” he gestured to her fur.

Guinevere knew well what he meant. Pure white animals were often abandoned by their mothers, easily spotted by predators, or were otherwise ill. Runts were much the same. Her brows pinched together. She gently stroked the soft fur of the puppy’s ear. Her own white hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward.

“But it appears she’s much stronger than we thought—or just stubborn,” Arthur chuckled. “Some might say she’s a bad omen, that she’s already marked for Arawn’s pack and it is best to send her on her way…” He smiled wryly at her, like he knew the insults thrown her way. “Between you and me, I think they are just scared because they have wicked souls and fear she’ll sniff them out.”

He held the puppy out to her as another attempted to climb into his lap. The little thing was warm, soft like all babies were, but oh so still. She didn’t squirm or wriggle, just gave a dissatisfied squeak as Guinevere held her to her chest. The puppy’s tiny breaths pressed against her fingers.

Her heart twisted again. The bubbling need for this thing to survive choked her breath. She rubbed her thumb against its ear again, making clicking noises again. Fight, she told the hound mentally. She tried to impart some of her own will into the small hound. Fight and remind them hounds choose their master. And give them pity if they think they have any power over you.

[alexaloraetheris]

As people who have had the misfortune to find my blog probably know, I have ADHD. I am also on meds for it, which is fun is many varied and different ways.

I first got put on 18mg Concerta and experienced my brain firing at more than 25% without a hyperfixation for the first time in my life. It was awesome.

Then there was the pandemic. There was a supply shortage, and my psychiatrist basically patted my head and wrote me a reccomendation to get a perscription of off-brand meds, the cost of which is at least partially covered my my insurance. They were supposedly the same thing, but something in the filler is different enough that I can't digest it all, so the effect isn't as good. It was shitty, but it was better than nothing.

It also gave me really fucking weird dreams for a while, but at least my Discord group had fun with that.

I've been upped to 36mg since starting grad school, but my doctor, who actually writes my perscription refused to give me non-insurance-approved meds, so I'm still on the shitty version, just with a bit more punch and a lot less cost. And the weird dreams are back.

Last night I dreamed I lived in my home village again, and every night I had to go into the woods and into this big hole that's basically a really deep cave and talk to the people who died there. That was my job, to keep them company and make sure they don't go out and harrass the living. One day they convinced me to take some of their bones and bury them in the proper graveyard. I took the C1 vertebrae from each of them (the Atlas, it basically lets your turn your head around) and buried them not in the graveyard, but in the little plot of land behind my house that's basically an unused garden.

And sure enough, it let them come out as ghosts during the night, and they weren't happy that they weren't in a graveyard where they could see other people but they were still stuck with me. I told them I knew that cave was the place where every woman in the village knew to dump their abusive husband's body when they've had enough, I knew they just wanted to find their ex-wives graves and get revenge. If they didn't get some goddamn therapy and realize there was a very valid reason they got dumped in the cave, they don't get to go to the graveyard.

They were super mad and turned my home into a haunted house, but they couldn't do much to me because I'm alive. So they mostly threw stuff around, but I have cats, I'm used to it. Finally they agreed to see a threapist. I kidnapped one and locked him in the attic. I'm pretty sure I at least fed him? I remember cooking something.

The therapist tried to explain to me that these were exploited farmer folk, their rage was misplaced but understandable, but I insisted they either learn to respect women or I'm throwing their bones back in the cave. The therapist tried to kill me too. I broke his head with the tenderizer and buried his Atlas in my backyard. Therapy sessions continued. My cats were ecstatic. I was sweeping a lot of broken dishes, but I somehow never ran out of plates.

I buried the cats too (no idea how they died) and now I had ghost cats in the house too. The ghosts loved them. I went out and never returned and these guys all lived together in my house with the cats. No idea if they ever became better people but it was better than the cave.

I think it was going in some weird gay direction but I woke up and forgot the rest.

Moral of the story: get my psychiatrist to write me perscriptions from now on.

[bronte-deserves-better]

okay so in honor of keeper characters Not listening to taylor swift here are the bands I think keeper characters would actually listen to because I'm so normal about this book series.

Sophie: Linkin Park, hardcore metal bands (this is basically canon), also I think shed be big into Green Day. trans!Sophie listens to against me btw <3

Fitz: Chappell Roan. I will not elaborate.

Keefe: He might actually listen to Taylor Swift. Also, I think he'd listen to Troye Sivan and other sad gay pop music.

Biana: The discord says babymetal. I feel like she would also like Cindy Lauper.

Dex: He'd be into some weird experimental stuff. Also synth pop. Depeche Mode.

Tam: Okay, there are a lot of jokes about Tam being emo. However, I do feel like he'd actually enjoy some of My Chemical Romance and Three Days Grace.

Linh: I have been suggested crane wives and the oh hellos, both of which pass the vibe check

Bonus

Bronte: he's probably into some shit from ancient rome. If I had to pick a modern band, I'd say Against Me because I love them and i feel like Sophie would introduce him to them

[xxroleplayfanaticxx]

Looking for aziracrow rps! Or- Nina x Maggie?

Me as either.

Rules:

No one liners

No being OP or Helpless.

No spamming I have a life-

Talk to me if you need me to change something- I’m all about working things out and becoming better.

We can roleplay here or on discord!!

Here are some plots…we don’t have to do these! Just ideas!!

HEADCANON:

My Aziraphale is autistic

My Crowley has adhd

My Crowley can change snake species at will.

This au

-swap au, where Nina is Crowley and Maggie is Aziraphale.

-ineffable wives?

-cowboy au

-Fallen Aziraphale au (memory loss) (I’d prefer to be Aziraphale for this)

-Swan princess au.

So this au, is basically like normal at first. Aziraphale and crowley, Angel and demon. Everything’s normal. Until Crowley accidentally walks on a ancient demon territory, called the Garden of Fate. When he walks into it he is bound by a curse to the garden. In which he changes. The curse makes him think he is the guardian of the garden and he has to stop anyone from infiltrating or disrupting the peace of the garden.

He can leave the garden but by sunset no matter what he’ll end up back at the garden.

And each day is like a gamble. Because some days the curse makes him not remember anything besides the knowledge that he’s the guardian of the garden and needs to protect the garden from anybody.

And some days he’s just normal. He remembers everything, his friends and such but still hears very vague orders from the curse to tell him to protect the garden if anybody enters it.

Hope this makes sense…

And I have my own version for if Aziraphale happened to suffer the fate instead!

-Aziraphale is taken by heaven after he gets in the elevator hes straight up tortured. And maybe crowley saves him but aziraphale of course is fucking traumatized. (Prefer to be azi)

-Aziraphale is legit thrown into the void for punishment for his actions. By the time hes finnaly brought out hes practically shattered mentally and basically its crowley helping put him back together. (His senses are all practically blocked or doubled) (prefer to be azi)

-after finding out about Aziraphale and Crowley’s many schemes and such they decide to kill two birds with one stone. Heaven and hell working together to basically use their control to force Crowley to kill Aziraphale (who either dies and maybe gets reincarnated as a human) and or metatron takes his essence splitting it into two. One part basically works for heaven (being his loyal side) and then the other part, the true parts of Aziraphale such as his love for Crowley and Earth stays stuck in an amulet on a shelf.

basically After aziraphale and Crowley stop the second armageddon heaven and hell has had enough. Aziraphale is requested to appear at the church. Aziraphale finds himself unable to move once he walks inside facing the wrath of heaven and hell. His body being burnt with hellfire and consumed with holy water as his body starts to hurt along with his wings. Crowley was also requested to show up and upon him showing up Crowley sees aziraphale who calls for his help. But in Crowleys panic he runs away. Leaving aziraphale to suffer the wrath of heaven and hell. And Gabriel basically manipulates Aziraphale. Telling him Crowley left him, he was the reason he suffered. Becoming somewhat of an equivalent to Gabriel’s “extra weapon.” Heaven and hell using him to continue the process of starting armageddon. Crowley hasn’t seen him in years because of the guilt. But eventually, they meet again. (I changed it up a bit because it was a bit rushed and stuff)

I wanna do Aziraphale Werewolf x Vampire Crowley.

Or

Human Aziraphale x vampire Crowley

Or

Human Crowley x werewolf Aziraphale

[comic based plots]

Eldritch horror Azi x Crowley

Eden Crowley and Aziraphale meet their present versions.

Alexandria 48 BC

oopsie Omens (comic)

Or good omens meeting oopsie omen

Inner demons (comic)

I have more but👉👈 also some of them are short and sloppy because well. (They are able to be edited and changed for both parties liking!)

[ofmdrecaps]

08/01-02/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Vico Ortiz; Ruibo Qian; Jes Tom; Rachel House; Minnie Driver; Dominic Burgess; International Clown Week; SMAUgust; WBD Q2 Earnings Call; National Twins Day; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Today's Taika.

Alright-- so two big posts for 3 days worth of info-- sorry again for the delay all. I do hope my work has finally calmed down enough for me to get back to a normal schedule.

== David Jenkins ==

David put out a lovely shout out to Con since his episode of Time Bandits premiered on the 31st on Apple TV!

Source: David Jenkins Twitter

== Rhys Darby ==

Hey! Did you know there's a new episode of The Cryptid Factor available? It's out on spotify now, and as usual, the video version will be available on their Patreon sometime next week! Check it out below!

Rhys is out in Edinburgh! He's going to be doing The Cryptid Factor Live Aug 3-7th! -- and he's being so incredibly nostalgic, it's so heartwarming <3

Source: Rhys' Instagram

And if that's not enough Rhys for you-- Rhys will be appearing on the "What Lurks in Loch Ness" episode of Expedition X! To learn more, check out the Discovery Channel!

Source: Catski22 on Twitter

== Taika Waititi ==

Another fun shot of Taika behind the scenes at Russell Crowe's concert a couple weeks back!

Source: Instagram

And a shot of Taika, Rita and friends still out in Ibiza!

Source: Instagram

= Vico Ortiz =

Vico's posted another short OFMD BTS video on their Patreon! Here's a sneak peak-- check it out here!

= Lesbophilia Giveaway =

You may remember that Vico's short film Lesbophila will be playing at the HollyShorts Film Festival! Well Lesbophilia is doing a giveaway! Just follow the instructions below and you'll be entered to win some pretty cool (and NSFW) stuff!

Lesbophilia's Instagram

The Post Mentioned

Source: Lesbophilia's Instagram

== Ruibo Qian ==

August 1 was Ruibo's opening night of Ms. Holmes & Ms. Watson! Wanna checkout some BTS for the show? Visit the GlobeTheatre's Reels

Source: Ruibo Qian's Instagram / Stories

== Jes Tom ==

Jes Tom was out performing at REDiNK, honoring the late Cecilia Gentili.

Source: Jes Tom's Instagram Stories

== Rachel House ==

So in case you ever wondered whether or not the cast of Time Bandits TV love Rachel House, now you do -- several of the cast members filmed themselves in costume when they found her phone in Lisa Kudrow's chair! It's actually super sweet to watch. I didn't notice any spoilers, but just fyi!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Rachel House (@rachelteaomarama)

Source: Rachel House' Instagram

== Minnie Driver ==

A rare sighting of both our murder wives on the same day getting some news-- Minnie Driver was out on @livekellyandmark talking all things Serpent Queen!

Source: Minnie Driver's Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Great news - Dominic's screenplay "OUT OF MIND" has made it to the quarterfinal rounds of the 2024 Academy Nicholl Fellowships! Congrats Dominic! He included a description and some more information below!

Source: Dominic Burgess Twitter

== International Clown Week ==

Honk HONK!

Source: ofmd-ann's Tumblr

== National Twins Day ==

Source: NoraKitty9 on Twitter

== WBD Q2 Call ==

Our friends over at @adoptourcrew are reminding everyone of the WBD Q2 earnings call happening Wednesday August 7! Sounds like there may be some fuckeries afoot so stay tuned!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Tumblr

== SMAUgust ==

It's time for SMAUgust! SMAU aka Social Media Alternate Universe is a genre of fanfiction and now there's a month long celebration! You can follow the official Twitter, run by the absolute legend PogoNR, and Discord below-- there's already been some fantastic recommendations from our fellow crew mates! Feel free to check them out!

OFMD Smau Discord

OFMD Smau Twitter

Source: OFMD Smau's Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Cast Cards =

More cast cards from our crewmate @melvisik! Alex D. is another action talent according to https://ofmd-crew.com/ and Adam Wheatley is another one of our Production Designers!

= OFMD Colouring Pages =

Our friend @patchworkpiratebear is still putting out some awesome colouring pages! Illustrating more of our darling @denizbevan's fics! There are lots of versions available, so please visit their tumblr for more!

Source: Patchwork Piratebear's Trumblr

== Love Notes ==

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Sydney Irvine💛 (@sidthevisualkid)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Liz ✨ (@lizpop_art)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by New Day (@newdayish)

This chapter of my life since I've met you all has been one of the best <3 Thank you lovelies.

== Daily Darby / Today's Taika ==

These two gorgeous buggers and their eyebrows. These gifs courtesy of the lovely @ofmd-ann and @ transjudas!

[the-fabled-void]

Welcome to my blog!

THIS POST INCLUDES A BLOG TAG GUIDE AT THE END

⣇⣆⣸⣆⣷⣾⣶⣇⣶⣀⣆⣰⣸⣶⣾⣶⣀⣆⣰⣆⣶⣸⣶⣇⣾⣰⣆⣶⣀⣶

I do not support homophobia, transphobia racism, pedophila & incest

I have my commissions open, currently redoing the commissions info

I co-run @coreschristmasparty

✦ . About me . ✦

Heyyyo, I'm James Valentin

I am 19 years old

I mainly use he/him, but I've also been using x/x recently

How to use: use x instead of where you'd put the gendered part of the word, so:

"X is my friend, I like x shoes. I saw x talk to xself"

Seven years UTMV going strong

Artist, Writer, roleplayer, technically poet but referring to myself like that feels silly, also a creator of an abundance of sanscest shipkids

Feel free to shoot me and ask, especially but not limited to UT/MV/DR! I like talking about characters, ships, theories or ideas! You can also request doodles, headcanons, or poems :)

As I said before, I'm a roleplayer, DM me and we can move to Discord (preferred platform for rp)

Speaking of Discord, I'm one of the owners of an Undertale and AU server:

https://discord.gg/rc5RFv7VRK

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . Fandom stuff . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I love the crane wives, set it off, mother mother, will wood, madds buckley, dodie, and many others

My fandoms: UTDR & UTMV, BNHA (mostly just side characters, shinsou monoma & toga beloved), EAH, MLP, PJSK, Sanders Sides, DDLC, TOH, Ducktales and more

⣇⣆⣸⣆⣷⣾⣶⣇⣶⣀⣆⣰⣸⣶⣾⣶⣀⣆⣰⣆⣶⣸⣶⣇⣾⣰⣆⣶⣀⣶

Here's my Linktree btw

⣇⣆⣸⣆⣷⣾⣶⣇⣶⣀⣆⣰⣸⣶⣾⣶⣀⣆⣰⣆⣶⣸⣶⣇⣾⣰⣆⣶⣀⣶

Blog guide:

Important tags:

#my art

#my poems

#my analysis

#my headcanons

#my posts

#my reblogs

#alteration inspo

#oc tag: (character name)

[ghostonstrings]

☆Intro Post☆

"I do believe you're appealing to my better nature. And we both know I don't have one." - Spy Master <3

Hello!! I'm Ghost, you can also call me Atlas <3! I'm a Minor and my pronouns are they/he. I'm Agender, Asexual, and Pansexual!!

Some things about me is that I'm obessed with Doctor Who!

Things like the 12th doctor, the spy master, Thoschei (specifically SpyDoc) are my favorite things about it!! I also really love 13 so if you're a 13 hater don't bother interacting with my blog!!! I'm absolutely obessed with the Spy Master btw, I think about him all the time, I have no guilt. He is the 1st of my five Doctor Who Wives <3

I also post art!! Thoschei and Academy Era, and sometimes my original doctor regenerations too!! OC art is famously known not to get popular on Tumblr, so you can find me on Cara for that!!

Some Things You Will Find on my Blog

1. Thoschei

2. Doctor Who

3. My art (pls do not repost to different sites!!)

4. Some of my random thoughts

5. Academy Era (I'm obessed with the Deca omg)

6. Some old stuff you'll find is a lot of Lokius stuff, but the finale broke my heart so I switched to Doctor Who and Thoschei :3

Thanks for reading!! I am on Instagram, TikTok, ao3, and Discord!!

[m--rtyr]

I tried to watch mid but I'm really bad at caring about characters I don't know (I know it sounds stupid) I just couldn't bring myself to care.

Do you have anything new to do with Daemos culture (I'm looking at the MID wiki.)

I took forever to answer this, I’m sorry.

Basically, yeah, I have a bunch of culture stuff, but… I want to draw some of it and I can’t find my pen… so I’ll ramble about a few things in particular until I can.

Head wear/crowns.

Aaa

(This is copy pasted off of a discord rant I had about it)

Daemos royalty wear these big elaborate head dresses/crowns which accentuate the height of their horns, to make them ‘more intimidating’ and to basically brag about how rich they are, but due to practical and personal reasons, Asch only has his little ring on his horn

The size/material/colour/style of these head pieces will depend on the person, their status and their general reputation. The emperor will have the largest, most elaborate one, whilst lesser nobility will likely just have horn caps made of gold or something

Asch wearing the ring crown is seen as incredibly humble, and traditional in certain Daemos’ cultures, but he mostly just chose it over horn caps because it was his mother’s. Cultures outside of the few certain ones are not fond at all of Asch’s ring crown, however.

Horn caps, btw, if I’m not being clear, are little bits of jewellery that daemos wear on the ends of their horns. They can come in a variety of shapes and styles, but are typically shaped to fit the shape of the daemos’ horns and make their horns look taller. Some, however, opt for fashion over height, though that’s not very common

For this reason, someone being referred to as having a ‘weak neck’ is kind of a way to say that they’re not a good leader/are poor. Since larger headpieces put more strain on the wearer.

Adding on, other stuff not included in the discord rant;

The ‘weak neck’ insult also carries over into an insult to call certain Daemos ugly, as larger horns are seen as more attractive, and, y’know, larger horns = more strain on the daemos’ neck.

This insult can also go the other way. ‘A neck too strong for the horns it carries’ can be a compliment to say someone is skilled beyond their social class, but it can also refer to traitors, as they often have their horns removed. It’s a way to either say 'youre cool for a poor person' or that someone is untrustworthy. it depends, of course, on context.

Asch wearing only the ring crown is seen as a bit of a bad omen amongst the nobility. He is second in line to be emperor (though many support the idea of him usurping the throne after his father passes, so that it may not fall into Rhal’s hands), and such a small crown implies that he will not amount to much, or will fail in some way. Large crowns imply greatness, and yet Asch’s is small. They worry for what it means.

Lady Grandma is referred to as The Empress Mother in my rewrite. Since… Lady Grandma sucks as a character name but I still wanted to make the idea clear. She’s the mother of the emperor, and thus Asch’s grandmother. If Asch’s father were to pass, she would become The Empress Grandmother (since Rhal or Asch would take the throne, and they’re both her grandsons). I like to think the Daemos still like to give titles to their former monarchs, or, more accurately, their former monarchs have too much pride not to have their own unique titles.

Tw for mentions childbirth, complications surrounding childbirth, infant death and death during childbirth.

Royal children whose mothers die in childbirth are often referred to as Blood Princes/princesses, or whatever their title pay be, due to a small superstition that those who are born through violent births may lead violent lives. It is, oddly, a compliment, and many emperors have pushed their wives to have unsafe births in order to birth a Blood Prince son. In a violent culture, it’s something that is sought after. Of course, this leads to a lot of infant death in royal bloodlines, as unsafe pregnancies are also unsafe for the child.

Asch is a Blood Prince. However, the circumstances of his birth were a little more graphic and violent… and whilst his father can be blamed in some part for it, his father did not actually want a blood child, and so did not seek out a violent birth for his son as many did. Alas, Asch was born through blood and misery anyways.

[dissvicious]

Have I reached the point in one piece where killer and Kidd come into play? No. Do I find them attractive? Not personally. But I LOVE your storytelling and your plot is very enrapturing. Keep up the great work! (At a pace you are comfortable with of course)

Thank you very much! I'm glad you like my silly stuff. I already talked about it but everything here is purely a personal project I do on my free time beside my professional comic writing, so I'm always a bit self conscious about it, fear of it being a loss of time. I'm happy when people get invested in it, makes me think it worth it!

It makes me laugh to think about it cause I really drew Nina out of an inspiration blast and didn't plan to do anything with her but making her kiss Kid pirates on the mouth, but I had so fun writing her that her story written itself. Shout out to my amazing discord wives besties who keep inspiring me everyday, too.

Anyway, thanks again for those sweet words! Smooching your snoot platonically.

[elvisabutler]

a love supreme seems far removed

summary: it appears old wounds between you and professor presley die hard after one particularly pleasurable but exhausting incident. fandom: elvis presley | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: m pairing: professor! elvis presley ( big daddy flavor ) x student! female reader ( nicknamed belle ) word count: 2462 warnings: big daddy elvis. elvis using a walking stick/cane. implied praise kink. student and professor relationship ( everyone is of legal age ). use of the derogatory name jezebel,in a negative way toward oneself. caning in a sexual way/sexual punishment way. negative self talk. dom/sub dynamics though not explicitly stated. near use of a safe word. sub drop. mild daddy kink? it's there, belle calls him that once or twice and elvis refers to himself as big daddy once. abandonment issues. author’s note: so this was sort of an accidental fic. once upon a time an anon came into my inbox and mentioned liking my fic about belle and professor presley with belle experiencing sub drop. i had never written that but between my right hand woman for belle and elvis @butlersxbirdy ( seriously, y'all she is the reason this entire series exists ) and my baby girl @stylespresleyhearted going "OKAY BUT CAN YOU DO IT THO I WANT IT." this fic was born. special thanks as always to my discord wives, christi and marina and for kicks also bee who i made love big daddy with these two. as always i love the love this fic series gets and truly i live for comments and questions regarding it or any of my serieses/fics. hell, the reason this series is a series is because y'all keep requesting more stuff from it. pay no mind to the moodboard as far as physicality goes or ethnicity, i just basically fell in love with her face because of daisy jones and she's got the right vibe.

It's funny, you think, how once upon a time the things you do with Elvis were things you shied away from with your other- partners if you could even call them that. There's something to be said about the sheer ease at which Elvis puts you in to make you agree to anything. You figure it's because you know he'll always take care of you. You figure it's because of how he'll stop if you cry out in more than just a pleasurable pain. No, he'll make sure you're alright, make sure his precious Belle, his angel sent from God himself is alright.

Smack.

A low keen leaves your mouth at the sting of his cane against your ass, hitting a spot still a bit tender from a week ago. Elvis had asked if you were alright with this, asked if you were ready to take this on this soon and it had been an easy question to answer. Of course you were alright because you had been the one to ask for it again. It's not that you needed it- craved it every second of the day but you knew very well you had nearly gotten yourself and him in some very hot water. It deserved more than his words of admonishment murmured against your neck and your hair. It deserved the caning that he rarely brings out but that you know tends to set you straight. Tends to keep you in line in a way you'll both never admit or question beyond these moments when he uses it. Your hand starts to move toward your ass, wanting to rub the spot that's sore before—

"Hands on the bed. Ya know better. Keep 'em where they're 'posed t'be," Elvis commands as your hands settle back against the bed. Back to where they ought to be because Elvis- Big Daddy- Professor Presley told you to keep them there.

"Elvis—" you start before another smack of the cane has your ass jiggling and has him chuckling a little as his ringed hand palms the area. You hiss.

"Ya asked for this, 'member? Told me ya needed the lesson, hm? Needed t'be 'minded that ya need t'be good, right? Keep that tongue o'yours in check. Doin' so good, Y/N. Doin' so good. What number we on?"

Your mind, fuzzy as it's becoming can focus on the number, can focus on something, settle on something that allows you to not float completely away. The grounding element of everything that keeps you tied to the Earth, tied to him and your life together. Your mouth opens and one single word falls out, "Three."

"Outta five, that's right, Belle. But ya haven't been countin' 'em out loud, have ya? Been tryin' to keep me from hearin' ya? Hearin' what my cane does to ya?" Elvis allows himself to lean against you, to press his stomach against your burning backside, his own warmth both a balm and an irritant against it. His chest hair scratches at your skin and earns a light whine as some rubs just the wrong way, the friction unwanted for now.

"Yes," you whine, arching your back as if to tease when really you only want to chase after the feel of the cane, of his body against yours in order to float and to feel safe. At your arch, he moves off of you and brings down his cane once more, this time closer to your vagina, in that dip where your thighs and butt meet. The part where his hands would grip and squeeze and slap when you rode his cock or his thighs. The number slides through your brain and into your mouth. "Four!"

You hadn't meant to shout the number but the sting overwhelmed you, the sting almost had you telling Elvis to stop, that this was too much too soon after the last week. It stopped though, the urge to tell him to set down his cane and pull you into his arms stopped. Still, even with your lack of asking, there's a pause with Elvis, a pause that has him leaning against you once more, his hand automatically starting to palm your ass. "Y'alight?"

He expects an honest answer out of you as you expect honest answers out of him when he wants to pretend his body isn't betraying him and hurting him. The bright side of when you do things like this, when you trust him to remind you to be a good girl- a good woman- you'll always tell him the truth.

A nod is what you manage before your body slumps forward just a little, the effort of holding yourself up on your hands against the bed becoming just a bit too much to handle. Elvis ought to stop right there and he knows it, can see an exhaustion settling into your body but a promise is a promise and he allows himself one final smack of the cane, lighter than all the others at the most fleshy and least bruised part of your behind.

"Five," you murmur against the sheets of the bed, your eyes a little glassy as he moves the cane to the side and tries to pull you up to a standing position. He manges it just barely but you lean against his chest, hand snaking up his chest to run your fingers through his chest hair. "Shower?"

You think it's you who asked for a shower but you're not sure, not sure with how your clit throbs and aches as it always does when Elvis does this to you, whenever you do something similar to this. Whenever he disciplines you like you deserve to be, because a simple talking to wouldn't have done, your body needed to know what was at stake. Whoever asked didn't matter as Elvis helped you walk to the bathroom anyway, his hands moving between your legs, playing with your clit, sliding his fingers between your folds gently as you rested your body against his own. It doesn't take long to finish the shower, doesn't take long for Elvis to wrap you in a towel and dry you off, only detaching himself to grab pajamas for both of you. You hadn't been this way last week but it had been earlier in the night, perhaps you were just tired from the day.

The bed sheets and Elvis provide a warmth that finally drags you into the land of sleep willingly and gladly.

It's cold.

It shouldn't be cold, you think. Elvis runs as hot as a furnace and usually makes you so hot that you have to slip from under the covers in the middle of the night. Your eyes blink to try and adjust to your surroundings and you realize it is the middle of the night. Why is it cold in the middle of the night?

Your heart lurches in your chest, moving upward to your throat as your hand moves to Elvis's side of the bed only to feel cool emptiness beside you.

Elvis isn't there. Elvis isn't beside you. You are alone in your shared bed. Was it shared any more? Was this his way of telling you to leave? After everything? Had you finally made him realize you made a mistake?

There's a sliver of your brain, of your mind that knows the thoughts that are swarming your mind are silly and yet you can't listen to that sliver. It's wrong. Elvis isn't here with you. Why hadn't he fucked you to sleep? Why hadn't you woken up with his soft cock inside of you? Had Daddy- Had Elvis taken care of you after he hit you? Where was he? Why wasn't— Why wasn't he here? He left you. He's leaving you. He's going to kick you out when the first rays of sunlight enter through the curtains.

You don't know when you start to sob, don't know when your body starts to shake, the overwhelming lack of warmth settling into your bones, don't know when your stomach threatens to empty onto the bed. All you know is that they happen all at once. All you know is that you've done something to make Elvis abandon you.

Maybe, maybe he was still in the house, maybe you didn't disgust him so much he had to leave the entire house. If you called for him maybe he'd come. Maybe you could find out— maybe you could convince him that it was fine. You were still worthy of his love.

The wail that leaves you would embarrass you in any other context. It would mortify you if your brain could process what was happening.

He hadn't quite registered that the noise he heard was you. Hadn't quite registered that the wail he heard was you. Graceland occasionally made noises that didn't make a whole lot of sense and that hadn't changed in the entire time you've been with him. It's only when he gets closer to your shared room that he hears your wail, your moan of unmitigated distress and anguish and knows it's you. He moves as fast as his body will let him and practically slams open the door, ready to use old karate moves and the gun he's got hidden in his dresser to defend you only to realize there's no one in the room but you.

There's no one in here who could hurt you and yet you're clutching at your stomach, curled in on yourself, looking as if you want to vomit all over everything. When you look up at him he sees your glassy eyes staring back at him, unshed tears in them to go with the ones streaming down your face. He opens his mouth to ask you what's wrong only to hear your whimpers and whispers to yourself.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry D- Elvis. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." It practically sounds like a mantra, a chant you'd only a monk say. It sounds wrong coming from your lips. What did you have to be sorry for? What would make you act this way? In what feels like a flash he moves to sit next to you on the bed and starts to touch you.

For once you shy away from his touch and Elvis's heart falls through his body to the ground. You never do that, even when the two of you hadn't worked through the dumbest set of issues known to man you had never shied away from his touch. Normally you would sink into it, but— what had he done to you. Had earlier been too much? Had he broken something inside you in a way he hadn't before?

"Y/N? Belle? What—" He doesn't get the question out before you whimper.

"You were gonna leave me like I did to you. I— I was alone. You hate— you don't love me anymore. Don't want to be with— you realized what everyone else does."

Tour Guide. Used. Whore. Bel— Jezebel. Not worthy of being with him or anyone else. But especially not him. Not worthy to spend the rest of your life waking up with him. Not worthy to have children with him.

Your hands tighten around your middle even more, as if that's the part of you that needs shielding the most. As if that will make the nausea you feel go away. As if it'll keep your stomach from revolting even as you feel Elvis's hand on your shoulder, tight as it was the first day he met you.

"My— Y/N. My angel from heaven. My Belle. No—" He pulls you into a hug despite your protests and your shaking head. "I couldn't sleep. I was downstairs. You—Belle. I— After everything, I would never do that to you. I could never hate you."

"You did," you whimper, your shoulders shaking even as you feel some form of warmth from him sinking through your pajamas and into your soul. "You did. You— I left you and I deserve— I don't— I made you hate me. You're gonna—"

Elvis shushes you, forcing your body against his, forcing your chest to rub against his, his chest hair brushing against the faintest bit of skin your pajamas show. "No. You're my good girl, Belle. Always have been even when I was so angry with you. I'm here. Your Big Daddy's here." He uses the nickname you had let slip that one time so long ago, knowing he finds it funny. It's supposed to put you at ease and he feels a tension in your shoulders lessen at it.

"For— You won't make me leave?" That's the question you ask, not does he still love you, because the two go hand in hand in your mind. For him to love you, he can't abandon you.

His answer should be silly, it should make you roll your eyes but something deep inside you finally uncurls when you hear him sing one of his own song lyrics acapella. "A team of wild horses couldn't tear us apart."

A sob, stronger than the rest wrenches itself from your throat, finally earning a proper release as he holds you even tighter through the tears, his hands petting your hair, murmuring soft words of comfort. You know the position has to be uncomfortable for him but he doesn't complain, too focused on making sure you're alright. Your tears and shivers finally settle into something manageable after what feels like hours and Elvis moves to lay you down on the bed, his hand still rubbing on your chest, right where your heart is. A whimper escapes your lips in fear only for him to shake his head.

"Let me get on my side of the bed. Then ya can curl up to me," he says and to show you how serious he is, he manages to clamber on top of the bed from the bottom, his hands never leaving your body, the warmth from his touch— his always burning hands allowing embers of warmth to blossom slowly but surely inside of you.

The second he's under the covers, you move to lay on top of him. He can't abandon you, can't leave you without warning if he has to move you from atop his body. Your hands haven't left your stomach as it still continues to roil and twist inside you, the nausea refusing to abate. Elvis looks at you and follows where your hands are before placing the hand that rubbing against your chest onto your stomach. For some strange reason it calms your stomach, allows for your body to settle down, and allows for you to lock your arms around Elvis's middle.

"Stay," you whisper, placing a kiss against his skin.

"Wouldn't dream of doin' anything but."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted y'all know the drill with the taglist by now.

[lesmisletters-daily]

Prudence Counselled To Wisdom

Les Mis Letters reading club explores one chapter of Les Misérables every day. Join us on Discord, Substack - or share your thoughts right here on tumblr - today's tag is #lm 1.2.2

That evening, the Bishop of D——, after his promenade through the town, remained shut up rather late in his room. He was busy over a great work on <i>Duties</i>, which was never completed, unfortunately. He was carefully compiling everything that the Fathers and the doctors have said on this important subject. His book was divided into two parts: firstly, the duties of all; secondly, the duties of each individual, according to the class to which he belongs. The duties of all are the great duties. There are four of these. Saint Matthew points them out: duties towards God (<i>Matt.</i> vi.); duties towards one’s self (<i>Matt.</i> v. 29, 30); duties towards one’s neighbor (<i>Matt.</i> vii. 12); duties towards animals (<i>Matt.</i> vi. 20, 25). As for the other duties the Bishop found them pointed out and prescribed elsewhere: to sovereigns and subjects, in the Epistle to the Romans; to magistrates, to wives, to mothers, to young men, by Saint Peter; to husbands, fathers, children and servants, in the Epistle to the Ephesians; to the faithful, in the Epistle to the Hebrews; to virgins, in the Epistle to the Corinthians. Out of these precepts he was laboriously constructing a harmonious whole, which he desired to present to souls.

At eight o’clock he was still at work, writing with a good deal of inconvenience upon little squares of paper, with a big book open on his knees, when Madame Magloire entered, according to her wont, to get the silver-ware from the cupboard near his bed. A moment later, the Bishop, knowing that the table was set, and that his sister was probably waiting for him, shut his book, rose from his table, and entered the dining-room.

The dining-room was an oblong apartment, with a fireplace, which had a door opening on the street (as we have said), and a window opening on the garden.

Madame Magloire was, in fact, just putting the last touches to the table.

As she performed this service, she was conversing with Mademoiselle Baptistine.

A lamp stood on the table; the table was near the fireplace. A wood fire was burning there.

One can easily picture to one’s self these two women, both of whom were over sixty years of age. Madame Magloire small, plump, vivacious; Mademoiselle Baptistine gentle, slender, frail, somewhat taller than her brother, dressed in a gown of puce-colored silk, of the fashion of 1806, which she had purchased at that date in Paris, and which had lasted ever since. To borrow vulgar phrases, which possess the merit of giving utterance in a single word to an idea which a whole page would hardly suffice to express, Madame Magloire had the air of a <i>peasant</i>, and Mademoiselle Baptistine that of a <i>lady</i>. Madame Magloire wore a white quilted cap, a gold Jeannette cross on a velvet ribbon upon her neck, the only bit of feminine jewelry that there was in the house, a very white fichu puffing out from a gown of coarse black woollen stuff, with large, short sleeves, an apron of cotton cloth in red and green checks, knotted round the waist with a green ribbon, with a stomacher of the same attached by two pins at the upper corners, coarse shoes on her feet, and yellow stockings, like the women of Marseilles. Mademoiselle Baptistine’s gown was cut on the patterns of 1806, with a short waist, a narrow, sheath-like skirt, puffed sleeves, with flaps and buttons. She concealed her gray hair under a frizzed wig known as the <i>baby</i> wig. Madame Magloire had an intelligent, vivacious, and kindly air; the two corners of her mouth unequally raised, and her upper lip, which was larger than the lower, imparted to her a rather crabbed and imperious look. So long as Monseigneur held his peace, she talked to him resolutely with a mixture of respect and freedom; but as soon as Monseigneur began to speak, as we have seen, she obeyed passively like her mistress. Mademoiselle Baptistine did not even speak. She confined herself to obeying and pleasing him. She had never been pretty, even when she was young; she had large, blue, prominent eyes, and a long arched nose; but her whole visage, her whole person, breathed forth an ineffable goodness, as we stated in the beginning. She had always been predestined to gentleness; but faith, charity, hope, those three virtues which mildly warm the soul, had gradually elevated that gentleness to sanctity. Nature had made her a lamb, religion had made her an angel. Poor sainted virgin! Sweet memory which has vanished!

Mademoiselle Baptistine has so often narrated what passed at the episcopal residence that evening, that there are many people now living who still recall the most minute details.

At the moment when the Bishop entered, Madame Magloire was talking with considerable vivacity. She was haranguing Mademoiselle Baptistine on a subject which was familiar to her and to which the Bishop was also accustomed. The question concerned the lock upon the entrance door.

It appears that while procuring some provisions for supper, Madame Magloire had heard things in divers places. People had spoken of a prowler of evil appearance; a suspicious vagabond had arrived who must be somewhere about the town, and those who should take it into their heads to return home late that night might be subjected to unpleasant encounters. The police was very badly organized, moreover, because there was no love lost between the Prefect and the Mayor, who sought to injure each other by making things happen. It behooved wise people to play the part of their own police, and to guard themselves well, and care must be taken to duly close, bar and barricade their houses, and to <i>fasten the doors well</i>.

Madame Magloire emphasized these last words; but the Bishop had just come from his room, where it was rather cold. He seated himself in front of the fire, and warmed himself, and then fell to thinking of other things. He did not take up the remark dropped with design by Madame Magloire. She repeated it. Then Mademoiselle Baptistine, desirous of satisfying Madame Magloire without displeasing her brother, ventured to say timidly:—

“Did you hear what Madame Magloire is saying, brother?”

“I have heard something of it in a vague way,” replied the Bishop. Then half-turning in his chair, placing his hands on his knees, and raising towards the old servant woman his cordial face, which so easily grew joyous, and which was illuminated from below by the firelight,—“Come, what is the matter? What is the matter? Are we in any great danger?”

Then Madame Magloire began the whole story afresh, exaggerating it a little without being aware of the fact. It appeared that a Bohemian, a bare-footed vagabond, a sort of dangerous mendicant, was at that moment in the town. He had presented himself at Jacquin Labarre’s to obtain lodgings, but the latter had not been willing to take him in. He had been seen to arrive by the way of the boulevard Gassendi and roam about the streets in the gloaming. A gallows-bird with a terrible face.

“Really!” said the Bishop.

This willingness to interrogate encouraged Madame Magloire; it seemed to her to indicate that the Bishop was on the point of becoming alarmed; she pursued triumphantly:—

“Yes, Monseigneur. That is how it is. There will be some sort of catastrophe in this town to-night. Every one says so. And withal, the police is so badly regulated” (a useful repetition). “The idea of living in a mountainous country, and not even having lights in the streets at night! One goes out. Black as ovens, indeed! And I say, Monseigneur, and Mademoiselle there says with me—”

“I,” interrupted his sister, “say nothing. What my brother does is well done.”

Madame Magloire continued as though there had been no protest:—

“We say that this house is not safe at all; that if Monseigneur will permit, I will go and tell Paulin Musebois, the locksmith, to come and replace the ancient locks on the doors; we have them, and it is only the work of a moment; for I say that nothing is more terrible than a door which can be opened from the outside with a latch by the first passer-by; and I say that we need bolts, Monseigneur, if only for this night; moreover, Monseigneur has the habit of always saying ‘come in’; and besides, even in the middle of the night, O mon Dieu! there is no need to ask permission.”

At that moment there came a tolerably violent knock on the door.

“Come in,” said the Bishop.

[spnfanficpond]

New Member Spotlight November 2024

The Pond is always growing and we want to make our new members feel welcome! Here’s a list of recent additions to our fishy family and a little info about them!

Guppies, Jellies, and Mutuals, oh, my!

Sunny - she/her, Brazil, @pinkysunny

Other SM names? - janepalette on Twitter

OTP? - I guess i don't have one i like everything , but my favorite character is Sam

Other fandoms? - I love kpop! Specially nct dream and le sserafim

Looking for in the Pond? - I would like to share my pen soon and read new things

Pairings you read? - I like destiel and everthing about Sam ^^

What do you like to write? - I like to write fanfics about romance and what if scenarios

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I would like to try a lot of things! I guess chat with others authors would help

Nyx or Nyxocity - she/her, East Coast US, @nyxocity

Other SM names? - Nyxocity on AO3, Discord, and everywhere else

OTP? - Wincest

Other fandoms? - Dragon Age, Baldur's Gate 3

Looking for in the Pond? - Here for prompts, exchanges, bouncing ideas, and for answering questions other may have, may also ask questions on occasion

Pairings you read? - Ships, poly

Genres you read? - Depends on my mood, angst, fluff, smut, crack, comedy, drama, au's, soulmates, romance, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, pretty much everything except omegaverse

Favorite writer(s)? - It's impossible for me to pick just one

What do you like to write? - Romance, smut, angst, drama, comedy, soulmates, I run the gamut

Most underappreciated fic? - We'll Forget the Sun in His Jealous Sky

J or Jay - they/he, East Coast US, @jwritestuff

Other SM names? - jwritestuff on AO3, june3bug on Discord

Other fandoms? - criminal minds, heartstopper

Looking for in the Pond? - friends who also write and ppl who like spn!!

Pairings you read? - love love love reader!winchester !! anything platonic i like

Genres you read? - fluff! found family/sibling stuff

What do you like to write? - where the reader is the youngest winchester!!

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - i am whole when i'm with you

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - writing in povs that arent first person

Laila - she/her, Egypt, @rubyvhs

Other SM names? - Rubyvhs on AO3, Rue_278 on Discord

Other fandoms? - WALKERRRR (it’s just so under appreciated, i’ve been waiting for this question since I first knew that it existed)

Looking for in the Pond? - To be more involved in the fandom since when I first started a few months ago I thought I’d be more reserved and literally never talk on my blog just post writings but people are really nice and I want to improve my writing, the only way I see I can do that is by reading other really great authors and their advice as well as asking questions, things like that.

Pairings you read? - On tumblr mostly reader insert and they’re what I write too and I loveeee poly. Love Sam and dean and basically all spn girls (Jo and Ruby my wives).

Genres you read? - All of them but my fav is angst and I don’t have specific tropes, I like misunderstandings and anything leading to angst or hurt/comfort.

Favorite writer(s)? - @runawaydr3amerao3, @zepskies, & @sammyluvr

What do you like to write? - x reader but I want to write characters too like samcas and deanjo but so far just x reader + I wrote one wincest fic (not finished)

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Fade Into You

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - plot heavy fics. I’m so jealous of anyone who can sit down and come up with a plot. I like remedy (one of my works) but it came after months, I’m not sure it’s even plot heavy, it’s mostly the same point, but I want my writing to be more complex and moving.

Annie - she/her, East Coast US, @copperboom82

Other SM names? - copperboom82 on AO3 and Discord

Other fandoms? - Harry Potter

Looking for in the Pond? - I'm mostly just looking to connect with people and other writers/readers from the fandom. I'm very shy, but have recently been pushing out of my shell a little bit, and have been enjoying it. I love writing but am very new to posting it and really only have crossover pieces posted so far, but I'd like/plan to delve more into writing just SPN fanfic. I also struggle a lot with the actual sharing of my work if that makes sense - like I struggle to come up with summaries/teasers without spoiling the story, I stress a lot about properly identifying trigger warnings bc I don't know if there might be something I don't think is triggering but someone else does, I'm never quite sure how to properly tag things, etc. Tumblr is still somewhat of a mystery to me as well, but I'm trying!

Pairings you read? - Dean x OFC are my favorite to read, but I've come to enjoy Dean x female reader

What do you like to write? - I tend to enjoy writing things with some sort of romantic pairing/plot involved

Masterlist!

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I'm interested in doing more one-shots and possibly reader inserts. I find the reader inserts to be a little intimidating to write, but I'm trying to branch out

Kiki - she/her, Italy @kikiatthemirror

Other SM names? - KikiAtTheMirror on AO3, Kiki1982 on Discord, and kikiatthemirror on Bluesky

OTP? - Destiel

Looking for in the Pond? - I would need a beta reader for a one shot

Genres you read? - Genres: almost all of them Tropes: Two person love triangle / friends to lovers / omegaverse

What do you like to write? - I'm very moody in my writing. The only certainty is that they have a happy ending, or at least a hopeful ending.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - Angel Protocol

Agent - she/her, Europe (UTC+1), @walkingaline

Other SM names? -AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar on AO3, agentpathetic on Discord

Other fandoms? - Star Wars and the Pedro Pascal one

Looking for in the Pond? - I'm looking for fellow writers, artists to work with and a little more feedback on my works. I was a pro editor and I'd be happy to give my (exclusively solicited) support to new writers.

Something to signal boost? - I run the @crowleybigbang (and all surrounding events).

Pairings you read? - I like gen fics, reader inserts, OCs. I'm still a Crowley minion, but I also like to give love to "minor" characters: Donna, Eileen, Garth, Rufus, Balthazar, etc.

Genres you read? - "My favourite varies a lot on my mood, but I'm hard to please when it comes to crack. I love hurt/comfort, second chances, enemies to lovers, slow burns… wait, I think all of these have angst in them. Ops, I guess?"

Favorite writer(s)? - I love @risingphoenix761 (same on Tumblr and AO3), Limbel (AO3) and used to love Demonologistindenim (same on Tumblr and AO3) but he's no longer active.

What do you like to write? - I mostly write to give Crowley the love he deserves, although sometimes I accidentally put him in the blender. Case fics and fluffy slices of life are also fun, and I love to somehow work some research in most of my stuff.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - I write for Crowley, a little smut and my works are "registered users only", pick one 🤣Anything from this series, probably. Damnation, Thievery And Everything

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I have several works in mind and lots of WIPs I keep leaving aside. I don't know if it can be fixed, but I suppose accountability might help?

Russo - they/them, Australia, @shadowbender19

Other SM names? - rusea_rusco on AO3, shadowbender on Discord

OTP? - Sabriel or Midam

Other fandoms? - Critical Role, Pokemon

Looking for in the Pond? - Community and online friends

Pairings you read? - Willing to try reading any character ships lol

Genres you read? - Hurt/comfort, Dead dove,

Favorite writer(s)? - Currently in love with Leata on AO3/ @leatafandom on Tumblr

What do you like to write? - AUs with lore and grief counseling

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - The Aquarian Star

Spade - she/they, US (MST), @spades-angel

Other SM names? - spades_angel on AO3, spades.angel on Discord

OTP? - Destiel

Looking for in the Pond? - i'm looking for more mutuals, a writing partner, people to collaborate for fics with and just community! and how to use tumblr better. i've been off and on tumblr for a few years so i know a few things, but i want to be more involved

Pairings you read? - ships and sometimes poly, but really only if its Gabriel/Castiel/Dean

Genres you read? - smut, angst, and hurt/comfort

What do you like to write? - i like to write a lot, and am all over the place. I really like to base my stuff off songs and lyrics mostly.

Masterlist!

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - i'm terrible at one-shots. i have a lot of ideas for epic multi-chapter ones, but drabbles and one-shots need work. i'm not sure how y'all can help lol. i don't really write that much because my ideas are a lot more in depth and "better" than my writing is. so i end up getting frustrated with my writing, because i'm not patient. i think writing one-shots and drabbles will help get my writing better so i can execute the longer works that i want to

Morgan (Rakinzna) - panth/panther, East Coast US, @panthera-dei

Other SM names? - Rakizna on AO3 and Discord

Other fandoms? - Psych & Wings of Fire. I've written for Knight Rider and MacGyver as well, although I'm not as active anymore.

Looking for in the Pond? - I'd love to make connections with other writers, and maybe pick up a few new tricks!

Something to signal boost? - Well, if I can get past the holidays, I'm beginning to curate the second issue of a Psych digital fanzine with some writers & artists from the Psychfic server on Discord. We could always use more contributors if anyone is interested.

Pairings you read? - I usually read gen fics. I'll read any type of pairing, it's just that I'm extremely picky about shippy fics.

Genres you read? - Fluff, mystery, adventure. I'm a sucker for a well-executed slow burn as well as enemies to friends/lovers.

Favorite writer(s)? - AgentPatheticHasBeenRockstar on AO3 (@walkingaline)

What do you like to write? - Mostly adventure, although I'm guilty of writing fluff, crossovers, and coffee shop AUs on occasion.

Masterlist!

Most underappreciated fic? - The Demon and the Derby

Something you haven't written but would like to try? Why not? How can we help? - I'd really love to write more original fiction someday. It just happens that I'm very bad at it. I can't seem to think of solid plots. ....or characters that I actually like writing about.

That's all for this month, folks! (If we're missing anyone, let us know and we'll add them to next month's list!) Make sure to say hi to the newbies and make them feel welcome! Thanks to all from @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @heavenssexiestangel, and @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes!

[f1-stuff]

Thank you for tagging me @c2-eh ! ❤️ Let's see if we can get @vegasgrandprix @penaltyboxboxbox @nottiinrosso and @ayceeofspades to do this 😁 (even if you only share 1 idea, I will Eat It Up...)

tell me about 1-5 ideas that you’ve not written a single word for yet. notes don’t count. (I have so many...this will be hard. All are charlos bc I have a problem.)

Last of Us AU - You know that episode with Bill and Frank? Yeah, that's where this idea came from. Carlos makes a fortress out of his Mallorca home after the apocalypse goes down, and finds Charles in one of his traps one day. Carlos hasn't interacted with a non-infected human in years, but he lets Charles into his home to shower and eat...and other things.

Stepford Wives/Inception AU - I had this idea of like charlos in the suburbs - married, white-picket fence etc. But actually, it's all a dream (they've been incepted) and they slowly figure out that it's not reality, and remember that they're F1 drivers who are not in fact married. The dream collapses and they return to their real lives, only to kinda miss being a married couple lol

Sex Competition AU - asfghfhsjgdk so this idea came to me like...what if charlos think they're both better than the other in bed, and the only way to prove it is to watch each other with the same girl and have her (after signing an NDA ofc) tell them who's better at sex. But then she says their better than each other in different areas. And this bothers them immensely. So they decide the only way to settle it is to experience for themselves what the other is so good at smhhh these IDIOTS

Princess Diaries 2 AU - Charles is Mia and Carlos is Chris Pine... Mostly bc I want that garden party scene where Nicholas kisses Mia mid-argument and then she somehow makes them both fall into the fountain. Also, charlos getting caught sneaking out of closets in the palace, and Charles is fuming like 'No, I hate him!! It's not what you think!' Also, Carlos Sr being mustache-twirly villain who's trying to get his son to steal the throne from Charles, and his son is like 'I know! I'll seduce him!' (Carlos Sr: 😕 'You'll...what now?') We talked about this extensively in the discord and it was sooo fun. I'm determined to write it one day if someone else doesn't do it first.

Stripper AU - I had two ideas for this: #1, they're both strippers at the same club, and Carlos does the more "manly" stripping (firefighter, boxer, construction worker etc.) while Charles does the more "twink" stuff (heels + lingerie, you get me). #2, based on this real story I read about, charles is a stripper who gets his own gigs on days off. Someone (Carlos) hires him to come once a week and clean his apartment in only his underwear, and that's it. At least, for a while...😅

[very-uncorrect]

DANGER

If you think you might know me in real life then don't look at this blog or I swear to god I will reach through your screen, pull you inside and hold your head against the griddle, which will be embarrassing for you

(/ref)

If this blog is found by archaeologists thousands of years in the future I just want to say I love you

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Pronouns.page

Some socials:

Discord: prettyuncorrect

Twitter: very_uncorrect

Bluesky: very-uncorrect

AO3: uncorrectly_correct

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List of my other blogs (that I actually use)

Fandom blogs:

@the-spooky-children (Spooky Month)

@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes (Sanders Sides)

@hes-as-stubborn-as-ever (Sanders Sides - Analogical blog)

@lost-signals-countdown (Oxenfree)

(used to have more listed here but. yeah I forgor to use them)

My own stuff:

@saraph-smidgens (inspired by Sanders Sides)

@uncorrect-writings (random creative writing stuff)

@strangest-polls (my poll blog)

@astrid-and-the-space-pirates (original story)

@cafe-gato-official (original story)

@minty-splitends (original surreal story)

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Music I like:

Mili

PinocchioP

Will Stetson

Sodikken

Melanie Martinez

scntfc

The Crane Wives

Jack Stauber

Good Kid

Miracle Musical

Cavetown

Inubakumori

MelodySheep

OR30

AU/RA

AJR

Anne-Marie

James Arthur

VOCALOID

Jazmin Bean

AURORA

EVE

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List of fandoms:

Sanders Sides

Spooky Month

Oxenfree

Moominvalley (Snufmin)

STH (unbreakable bond)

Sam & Max (Freelance Husbands)

Spiritfarer (most underrated game of all time play it play it PLAY IT!!!)

Fran Bow

Heathers

Little Misfortune

Camp Camp (RIP 🫡)

Kindergarten

Deltarune

TPOM

BuzzFeed Unsolved/Watcher

ENA

Class of '09 (Jeckole)

The Stanley Parable

Smiling Friends

Welcome to Hell (1 & 2) (Sockathan)

ARCANE

Taskmaster/WILTY/Cats Does Countdown/britcoms

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Some other things I like (aesthetics, YouTubers, things I do, etc):

Fun and silly mogai identities/xenogenders

The Group Chat

Low stake/funny conspiracy theories (the movie Frozen exists because Disney wanted something to cover up results for searches about Walt Disney's frozen head, JFK's head just did that, etc)

Cryptids

Disturbing media and horror (Martyrs 2008, r/distressingmemes, r/nosleep, etc)

Creep Cast

Monster Energy

Doc Martens

Drinking 5 cans of Monster Energy at 3am and listening to music at full volume in my earphones until my head and eyes are sore

Penguinz0

Cinema Therapy

The colour blue (there is not a single bad shade)

Making OCs and stories that I get obsessed with for a week and then never touch again

Liminal space stuff

Wendigoon

Cats (the animal)

Dankpods

EAS scenarios

Goblincore

Matt Rose

Danny Gonzalez

Thinking way too deeply about death at 2am and scaring myself

Jacksfilms

Penguins

Gore

My favourite characters suffering so so much

Steamed Hams edits

Heated/electric blankets

Pretty Much It

Making fun of rich people

Being really gay

RAZZLE

Time loops

Dark academia

Weirdcore/dreamcore

Cosmic horror

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Anti-AI banners

Berrisexual banner

Sapphic banner

Queer banner

Star divider(image)

Star divider(symbols)

Weirdcore and liminal space banners