#excuse the horrid lettering...

[hakogyi]

book 7.png

[brittle-doughie]

Anticipated Arrival (Golden Cheese Cookie)

Previous part with Dark Cacao Cookie!

You turned off the faucet as you wiped your face with water, but only with so little as not to soften up your dough. You take a deep breath as you look up at the mirror.

You weren’t looking alright. Tired eyes, a bit of sweat here and there as if it was always a little heated whether you go, and the constant..visions that you see out of the corner of your eyes.

A cookie of blue that lets out little laughs that make you turn your head at nothing and silhouettes of a cookie of white within the shadows, doing nothing but…stare, speaking only briefly…

“Ehehe…”

“Set yourself free, cookie…”

“It’s only a matter of time…”

“Let yourself go..and return to Beast-Yeast..”

You shake your head at those voices in your head. You can’t, you didn’t want to. Things have only gotten worse ever since your first visit to that place….as you glance at your forehead and your wrists…

A faint eye on your forehead and specks of flour on your wrists….these things only you can see, invisible to others…always there no matter how hard you tried to remove them…

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Excuse me, your Majesty. A little bird has come with a message, it says that it was of a urgent matter. Do I say that you are unavailable at the moment?”

A little bird? Oh dear, was it one of the Blueberry Birds?

“No, I’ll be there right away, Blackberry Cookie. Just..gimme a second.”

“Of course, your Majesty.”

———————————————————————

It wasn’t a blueberry bird.

A cheesebird was waiting for you in the throne room, a letter in its beak. Cheesebirds were only native to the Golden Cheese Kingdom, so it could only mean that Golden Cheese Cookie had sent this bird to you.

“Chirp, Y/N Cookie! Your Majesty!”

“You’ve flown quite far to hand me this letter, what is going on at the Golden Cheese Kingdom?”

“Golden Cheez Cookie has asked for your support! She needz help with moving thingz to her Secret Vault! Chirp!”

“This letter seems to be accurate. Is that all there is to it? Just helping her move things to a hidden spot? Nothing…too dire I’m going to guess?”

“Terrible thingz she sayz might happen! She needz your help just in case! Chirp!”

“If that’s all, then I’d be glad to help her. I just need a moment to catch my bearings…”

A part of you wanted to stay, this was too coincidental during the recent rise of the Beast Cookies to be unrelated…you had no intention to go back to that horrid place…

But you can’t just turn away Golden Cheese Cookie if it really was something as simple as that, not after what had befallen her and her kingdom…

You steeled yourself and went to gather your things….

———————————————————————

“Your Majesty, Y/N Cookie has arrived!”

“Have they? Bring them here!”’

You walked in to the main entrance to the pyramid, the cheesebird on your finger. You tell it to fly away now as you turn your attention to Golden Cheese Cookie.

“Golden Cheese Cookie, I’ve gotten your message. What seems to be the pro-oh my goodness!”

“Oh, it’s good to see you again, Y/N Cookie! It’s been a while since you were here, but it’s felt like forever!”

“Oh!”

You barely finished your question before Golden Cheese Cookie rushed at you and held you closely, wings around you two like a makeshift barrier from the outside world. You were kind of expecting that and immediately reciprocated the hug.

“Ehehe, yep! It’s been quite some time, Golden Cheese Cookie. It’s good to see you again too.”

“It’s perfect timing, I’ll need your help to move the last of the soulcheese to the Secret Vault I have prepared!”

“You said it was because grave danger might come to the kingdom. What exactly is this danger? Is it Dark Enchantress Cookie?”

“Not just her, but the Beast Cookies that Pure Vanilla Cookie has told me in his letter.”

Beast Cookies…

You already felt a little lightheaded, you leaned on a pillar for a minute. Golden Cheese Cookie was quick to tend to you.

“Y/N Cookie, are you alright?! You lose your balance there!”

“I-I’m fine. Just a little desert heat making me feel hot, I need to stand in the shade for a bit.”

“Very well, but we must make haste. There’s no telling when and where these Beast Cookies might make their attack!”

“Y/N Cookie…? Y/N Cookie, you’re looking off! Y/N Cookie!”

———————————————————————

You felt like you were back in that cocoon…

Couldn’t move…

Only able to directly face…Mystic Flour Cookie…

“Why do you keep resisting the truth? That all of your efforts to stay away will only bring you closer to us…”

No, it couldn’t be…this had to be a dream…the shaking, the feeling of tiredness, sweating like mad…

Your wrists…the flour on them was very much visible…

“I promise that this is all very real. My marking makes sure that I can have this connection with you…”

“No! Get out of my head!”

“You are only delaying the inevitable, Y/N Cookie. It is completely futile to try and fight it…”

Her voice quiets to a sickening whisper…that smile on her face as it darkens…

“RETURN TO US, Y/N COOKIE.“

———————————————————————

“Y/N Cookie, are you there?!”

You gasped as you wake from your nightmare, standing up from the pillar, looking at your wrists to see the familiar faded marks of flour from Mystic Flour Cookie.

That only you saw….

Golden Cheese looked worried at you, holding you by the shoulders.

“Y-yeah, just..a little tired from last night, hehe. Just needed a little snooze is all..”

“Are you sure that’s all to it? You can tell me if something is troubling you.”

“Y-yeah! I’m good!”

“Please…just..promise me that if you ever feel wrong, you’ll tell me right away!”

“I will, I….promise. Now, what was it about some soulcheese you needed moving?”

“Oh! Yes, I need your help to move the last remaining soulcheese to the Secret Vault! Let us go!”

It pained you not to tell her…but she couldn’t know…

She can’t learn that you’ve been haunted ever since you first stepped on Beast-Yeast.

She’ll be fine if you didn’t tell her just yet.

Right…?

[gtgbabie0]

how do you think a marriage between cregan and a lannister daughter would go?

love ur writing! keep up the good work <33

Cregan Stark x LannisterWife!Reader

Synopsis: {Your Lord husband seems to be the only one who can calm you}

This is an old request but thank you nonetheless! hope you enjoy my lovelies💕

You were a comely girl, always have been so it was no surprise that the Lord Stark had taken an interest in you during his time in the Red Keep- in which you were sent by members of your house to try and get your family back into the good books of the people in the court.

A feat you weren’t so successful in, having been turned away by numerous people or called horrid things behind your back sometimes plainly to your face. Every day spent at court was a blow to your pride, and gods did it make you a bitter person.

Cregan Stark found entertainment in your company, through his blunt banter and snarky remarks the way in which you would come back at him with all your might. Before he knew it he was completely infatuated with you and made an offer you simply couldn’t refuse, leaving Kings Landing.

Sometimes you regret ever accepting the damn deal.

“Get any closer and you’ll set that pretty blonde hair of yours on fire.” His rough voice breaks through the silence from his place at the desk where he had been reading through a couple of letters.

You roll your eyes, shuffling closer to the flames that crackle and snap within the hearth just in spite at the sound of his chuckle. He watches you closely, marvelling at how the warm orangey light of the flames splay across your face making your hair glow like fine threads of golden silk.

“Perhaps if it weren’t so cold then I wouldn’t have to sit this close.” You huff, pulling his furs that you had stolen over your shoulders.

“Winterfell is built upon a hot spring, the castle is plenty warm you’re just looking for an excuse to whine.” He says and you can practically hear the smirk that tugs on his handsome face.

You don’t answer him, instead letting silence and the soft sounds of the fireplace overtake your shared bedchambers however your lack of response doesn’t deter Cregan from continuing.

“You should wear something warmer than silks and airy dresses, my sweet.” The words are laced with amusement, he leans forward on his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, searching your unimpressed expression with his dark eyes.

“And wear dull shades greys?… no thank you.” You tell him, not wanting to accept the fact that perhaps there was slight truth to his words, still not meeting his gaze.

“So you’d rather freeze for the sake of what? Fashion? Very smart of you.” He replies sarcastically. “Especially for a Lannister, quite impressive my love.”

Your head snaps over to his direction, glaring up at him with narrowed eyes as he all but smirks back at you. He never failed to rile you up, bringing you to a burning point only to leave you all frustrated or worse— when he touches you in such a reverent way that makes you feel like a goddess, you couldn’t help but completely bend to his will. You swear he takes joy in bruising your pride.

He reaches over, brushing a curl of your hair behind your ear with a tenderness that he’s only ever shown to you and somehow just like that your anger ebbs away like snow underneath a summer's sun.

But you wouldn’t succumb that quickly and so you shrug off his hand, turning back to the fireplace with a small huff and he laughs because he knows- despite your little show- that he has you right where he wants you.

Cregan stands up from his chair, making his way over to a much more comfortable one that sits in front of the grand fireplace— closer to you. Despite how much you both clash at times he loves you, ever so dearly. He had defended you countless times back in Kings Landing and Winterfell, against anyone who dared try to speak poorly upon your name. Not just because of his marriage vows or honour, but because he sees you as you are not the hardened women the years had made of you.

There was a warmth to you, he’d seen it in glimpses. The way you care for his son as if he were your own, how you have your maids bring two cups of tea- one for him and one for you- to sate his sweet tooth.

You push yourself up from the floor, trying to distance yourself from him but he’s quick to catch your hips in his big hands. With a wolfish grin, he tugs you onto his lap and you accept defeat, it was too tiring to fight a man so headstrong.

“I’ll warm you up if you’re still cold.” He mumbles gruffly, wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against his chest.

The warmth from his study body melts away the tension between your shoulder blades and you can’t help but sigh in contentment, leaning against him as he tugs you impossibly closer to him.

His hands caress the curve of your hips, looking up at you with a lazy smile. “I am still a little cold, I wouldn’t mind.” You reply playfully, trailing your fingertips along his cheek in small patterns.

“Ah, there she is…” Cregan whispers, relishing at the sight of your smile that you try so hard to fight off.

“Yes, yes, marvel whilst you can, it won’t last long.” The words make Cregan chuckle, his hands mapping out the outline of your body, caressing along your ribcage.

“Then I shall marvel with all my heart.” He promises, pressing a kiss against your shoulder, then another to your jaw. The wispy hairs of his beard tickle your skin as he nuzzles against you on purpose.

A pleasured hum escapes you by accident and by the way he smirks against your neck you can tell he’s holding back some sort of snarky comment, instead choosing to savour this moment and the way you lean into his touch.

He takes his time, showering your shoulders in kisses- trailing his lips up to the soft curve of your jaw and pushing the furs that drape over your shoulders off until they’re sitting on the floor leaving you in just a thin silky dress.

“What’s gotten you in such a mood, huh?” Cregan asks, leaning back against the cushioned sofa to really drink in the sight of you perched upon his lap.

You shrug your shoulders, lacing your fingers with his own. “I feel out of place, more so than often.” The words send an ache through his chest, his brows immediately furrowing at the confession.

It wasn’t a new thing for him to hear, however, that never made it any easier. Cregan remembers the first night you arrived in the North, the tears— gods, you were inconsolable. He understood why, the place was far from home and the people were hardened by the cold weather and then there was you… the complete opposite in every way, that’s why he spent all night whispering words of comfort and holding you.

“Silly girl, come here.” He says, coaxing you to lay against his chest and without hesitation, you curl up into him, your head resting on his shoulder as his fingers brush through your silken hair. “I’d have no one else by my side except you, my girl, understand?” He whispers, pressing a kiss against your hairline.

You nod against his shoulder, melting against him with a small sigh. “Mhm, of course, I do.” Your words are muffled against the soft fabric of his tunic, the smell of firewood and leather clinging to him- it was comforting, like home.

Cregan tilts your head upwards slightly, his gaze softening as he admires your face. “Don’t doubt the place you have in my heart… ever.” He tells you with a loving tone, so soft and caring, before leaning down to steal a delicate kiss from your lips.

[theoddest1]

You ever just know someone is so horrid and manipulative and assume you can't dislike them further, but then you do, and you're just angered and annoyed that someone this repugnant thinks their hot shit for being a controlling spoiled little brat? Yeah, that's me rn.

"Jeapordize"

"Not invited"

The people who volunteered to work on the pilot, who gave it their all and genuinely loved the characters, the cast, the Fandom, and the creator all at one point...treated in such a way. One member, seemingly threatened by Viv, could not participate or take any sort of part in this love letter, or else his job as Striker will be on the line is some of the most manipulative and controlling things Viv has consistently done. But fans will sit here and act like this is normal. It's not normal. Why would his job be on the line for participating in a lovely goodbye? Nothing about this is normal, nor should it be normal. Nothing about any of this is good. It's extremely divisive and horrid.

And her seemingly seemingly cutting ties, ignoring, or not inviting the cast that helped bring the pilot to life to see the opening for the show they've waited so long to become a full on show, and who have helped promote it for years...

The very thought of even REPLACING EVERYONE wouldn't be on my mind (ofc unless there comes complications or a problematic situation or revelation occurs)

Not after all the beautiful work and passion they put into everything.

I couldn't imagine doing this to any group of friends who have been so kind, loyal, and loving towards me and my works. I couldn't imagine not inviting those who helped me get this far to the premiere of the show they helped build along with me. I can't imagine dumping them all after years of commitment to MY ideas nor can I imagine failing to promote and uplift their works after they have done so with mine.

This is low. This is very low. Idc what excuse you throw. This behavior on Vivziepop's part is ludicrous.

EDIT:

Were not initially paid...

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 7

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

You're breaking fast with Aunt Eliza as a footman brings in her letters. She lets out an excited yelp as she holds up the latest edition of Lady Whistledown.

You can't help but roll your eyes at the older woman. All of the Ton fall over their feet to read the anonymous author's "news". You're not overly fond of the things she's written about your friends, the Bridgertons, and a majority of the Ton.

You go back to your food, enjoying the fresh fruits that were brought in, "The strawberries are extra sweet today, Aunt Eliza. I think we shoul-"

Aunt Eliza abruptly stands, pressing her hand to her chest. Your brows furrow, "What has she written now?"

"You, dearest, but Benedict as well," you rise out of your seat with haste, rushing to the other side of the dining table and grabbing the latest Whistledown.

Your eyes quickly skim across the words and your heart drops as you read: -perhaps the second eldest never proposed to Miss L/N because he knew he could never provide for her as a second son.

Your jaw clenches as you lower the paper onto the table, "That horrid woman! Benedict is more than just a second son! He's kind, compassionate, charming, he adores his family, he is well-versed in the arts and-"

"Take pause, Y/N," your aunt urges as she places a hand on your shoulder.

You let out a deep breath and look to your aunt, "Do you think it wise if I visit him? I just want to make sure he is well."

Aunt Eliza thins her lips, "To be frank, I do not think it wise. It may jeopardize your marriage with Lord Montclair. You mustn't risk it."

You dejectedly sigh, "Yes, you're right. I suppose I will just write him a letter then." You no longer had an appetite anymore and ask your aunt if you may be excused. Seeing the state of you, she allows it and you immediately go to your room to write to Benedict.

__________________________

"A letter arrived for you, brother," Anthony announces as he steps into the study where Benedict is mindlessly staring out the window.

"Just set it on the table. I shall read it later," Benedict mumbles.

"It's from Y/N," the sound of your name immediately makes his head turn towards his brother.

He approaches Anthony and snatches the envelope out of his hand. He practically tears it open and quickly unfolds the letter:

Ben,

I just read Lady Whistledown. I hope you know that what she says can never be true. You have so much worth and not because you are a Bridgerton. You are a man that spreads kindness and warmth wherever he goes. You have so much love and passion for your family. You also possess an amazing talent in the arts that I have never seen before. Whoever you marry will be lucky to have you as their husband because I have no doubt in my mind that you will do anything and everything to make them happy.

Never mind what that horrible Whistledown has to say. She knows not of who you truly are.

Best,

Y/N

PS. I do miss your company terribly. Perhaps we may meet in our secret spot tonight?

Benedict places the letter on the desk and proceeds to start pacing along the study. Anthony immediately reads the letter and then looks up at his younger brother, "She did not mention about you being disappointed about the engagement. This is a good thing."

Benedict shakes his head, "Or a bad thing. That she does not return my affections and therefore, is ignoring them."

Anthony chooses to ignore his brother's dramatics, "I do hope you choose not to meet with her." Benedict stops his pacing and gives his brother a guilty look.

Anthony pinches the bridge of his nose, "She is engaged to Lord Montclair. If someone sees you-"

"No one will see us. I assure you, brother, when we say it is a secret spot, it truly is a secret spot." she swipes the letter from the desk and folds it back up, slipping it into his chest pocket...right over his heart.

_______________________________

Your day was exhausting. Aunt Eliza allowed you a few hours of solitude, however, she proceeded to drag you out the house to begin planning for your wedding. You spent almost two hours at the modiste picking out fabrics and styles for your trousseau. Your head was hurting and you didn't want to stare at a roll of fabric for the next month.

You also went over what food will be served at the luncheon after your wedding, the colors, etc.

You felt a bit somber as the day went on. You always imagined doing this with your mother when you were younger. It hurt your heart to think about all the things you two never had the chance to do. However, you are grateful for Aunt Eliza. She has stepped up to take up a parental role while your father wasted his days away at the men's club.

At dinner, you started to become nervous. It had been so long since you've spent time in Benedict's company. You knew you couldn't be seen together a lot around the Ton, so in secret was what you had to resort to.

Once you knew that everyone in the house was asleep, you slipped out and crept your way to a small pond that was surrounded by trees and hedges.

You and Benedict found it when you were children after you two pulled a prank on Anthony. It was only you two that knew of the place. All of the overgrown grass and trees deterred people from wanting to go through. But not you and Benedict.

Wrapped in your cloak and you dress from dinner, you weave your way through the overgrown branches and leaves, eventually leading to the pond. Benedict was already there waiting for you and you couldn't stop your heart from beating a little bit faster.

Benedict turns when he hears the leaves and branches breaking under your steps. He gives you that shy yet charming grin that makes many of the women of the Ton swoon...you included.

"Evening," he nods to you.

"Good evening and thank you for meeting me. You didn't have to."

He shrugs, "Might be the only way I get to see you now."

You wince, "I am sorry for pulling away. Surely, you understand, right? I mean," you chuckle, "All of the Ton, Whistledown included, thought we would end up together. If I continued to be in your company, it would have further hurt my chances of finding a husband. And I needed to make haste and-"

"Would it really be all that bad?"

"Would what exactly?"

Benedict shakes his head, "Nevermind."

"Ben," you place a hand on his arm, "Can we just...just pretend like I'm not engaged and be like how we were before this mess happened?"

Part of Benedict wants to say "no", that you two can never go back to how it was because he loves you and he's going to lose you in two week's time. But the other part of him, the part that always yearns for you, that thrives in your presence, the part that reminds him of when he was young and realized that he wanted to be around you forever, that part of him was louder than the former.

"Of course," he replies breathlessly and slips his hand into yours, pulling you towards the old tree where you two made makeshift swings.

You look at the ropes, now aged from time and weather, "Do you think they're safe?"

"I suppose we shall test them out," Benedict says as he goes to the swing that he designated as his, cautiously lowering himself onto the large branch that he used as the seat.

The wood creaks but doesn't snap under his weight. He pushes himself back and swings forward a few times until the branch snaps in two.

You gasp as Benedict falls to the ground with a thud, a surprised expression his face. You two stare at each other for a few seconds and then you burst into laughter.

You continue to laugh as you join him on the ground, "Are you alright?"

"A bruised ego and probably a bruised bum, but otherwise, I'm okay," he looks at you with an embarrassed look, but also a playful smile.

You giggle more, scooting closer to him and resting your head on his shoulder, "Good."

Benedict leans his head against yours, "Thank you for your letter."

"You're welcome. I wanted to see you to talk about it, but my aunt said it wouldn't be wise. Didn't want to potentially give any more reason for Lady Whistledown to write about you."

He shrugs, "It could have been worse."

You two sit in a comfortable silence, listening to the crickets chirp, the fish in the pond occasionally come to the surface and splash water around, and the sound of breathing between you two.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Broken Betrothals

aemond x reader

A/N: made for a request for dark aemond!

WARNINGS: allusions to threats of murder (he’s just protective that’s all😁)

WORD COUNT: 651 words

You and Aemond had been close all your lives. Officially, you were Helaena’s companion, but everyone knew you were much closer to her brother. That’s why it’s his chambers you venture to when you get the letter from your betrothed, calling off your engagement. Nobody could possibly help you through it like he could. Nobody could make your problems disappear like he could.

“(Y/N)?” He looks confused when you arrive at his door, cheeks tearstained from sobbing. “What has happened?”

“H-He’s called it off…” You breathe out. “Lord Blackwood has rescinded his offer of marriage.”

“Oh, gevie.” (beautiful) “What an awful, cowardly excuse for a man.” He brings you into his arms, stroking his fingers through your hair gently. “Did he tell you why?” Aemond asks, but he knows the answer. Lord Blackwood has broken your engagement because Aemond told him to. Consequences of disobeying his prince were… easy to assume.

“He just said things had changed and that he was no longer in a position to take me as his wife. I just don’t understand what possibly could have happened.”

“Men like that can be incomprehensible. He’s a fool to give up a girl like you.” He says gently. Aemond always knows just what to say to make you feel better.

“I feel like a fool for trusting him and I worry that other suitors will think something is wrong with me. Breaking off an engagement is such an undutiful thing to do. They’ll think he found something out about me… a-and i’ll never find a husband.”

“It’s clear the problem lies with him. I will make sure it’s known.” He holds your face in his hands, wiping away the few tears. “Trust me.”

“There’s nothing truthful to be said that would make people side with me.” You say gently, always the kindhearted girl.

“Then I will fabricate a new truth.” Aemond says with all sincerity. If it pleased you, he would do much more to that man then tell a few white lies.

“That would be unjust.” Your moral compass is a bit of a hindrance to that though.

“What he did to you is unjust. He knows he could have ruined your prospects. He deserves it.” The darkness in your friend's eyes worries you but you know it’s just because he truly cares about you. He only wants to see no wrong done to you.

You settle to please him. “If he starts spewing untruths about me, then I believe it would be fair to say something back. Only as a defence of course.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then I will likely struggle to find a husband anyhow.” You say solemnly.

“I don’t believe there is a man alive who wouldn’t want to marry a sweet flower like you.” Aemond says in a sickeningly saccharine tone. The heat rises to your cheeks at his flirtatious words.

“It hardly matters how sweet I am if they believe me to be a loose woman or some other horrid thing.” You reply.

“Then i’ll marry you.”

“P-Pardon?” You stutter out, hardly believing he just suggested such a thing.

“I’ll make you my bride.” Aemond says with such finality that you can barely do more than gape at him. “I’ll take care of you. If you’d have me.”

“I would of course accept your offer if the need arises but I would never wish to push you into such a thing.”

“I would never feel pressured by such a prospect but if it makes you feel better, then we can agree to only do so if it becomes necessary.” He presents a deal that you can hardly refuse. “Do you accept?”

You think for a few moments. There could be much worse things in life than marrying your best friend.

“I accept.”

A smile comes across the prince’s face. Now, all he has to do is kill… deter all other suitors.

Comment to be added to taglist

[krispycreamcake]

Ayato Sakamaki boyfriend scenarios ➹♡ (P2)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Prompt: Jealousy

Fandom: Diabolik Lovers

Not proofread it's lit 1am

Tws: Cussing, physical violence, degradation, blood, slight nsfw, mentions of sharp objects

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It was the middle of summer, cicadas chirping wherever you went, the sun beating your skin to a bruised pulp as you tried to siphon as much wind as possible despite there being an unfortunate lack of breeze, shaved ice being sold at every corner.

You thought about how it was just winter not too long ago, as the sound of a fan's slow and guttural hum could be heard throughout the classroom, lights slightly flickering above you as the teacher fanned herself with the roll call sheet. Your fingers glided past the windowpane and you gently slid it open, allowing for the tiniest bit of fresh, cool air to envelop your overheated face. The relief however, did not last long as the world seemed to come to a standstill once more.

Sweat was beginning to drip from your face and the frilly, two layered uniform certainly did not help. All of a sudden, you felt cramped and claustrophobic, the heat boiling you alive as you sat uncomfortably at your desk. You wished you could just kick your feet up and lay back, but no. You were in a tightly enclosed desk at the far back of the class, an entire row of students sitting in front of you.

You glanced out the window once more, trying to distract yourself from the next hour. You looked down at your worksheet, you hadn't even begun and the words already started to make less and less sense. There was no way you could focus, all you saw were blobs of ink that sort of resembled letters.

"Hey..."

Your head shot up. You looked around the silent classroom and couldn't find the owner of the voice, let alone anyone that wasn't looking half dead.

"Oi... I'm talkin to ya!"

You snapped your neck in every which way and still couldn't find who was calling out to you. Was the heat that desperately horrid that you began to have auditory hallucinations?

"Over here!"

You finally looked out the window. At first, you couldn't see anything besides the darkened silhouette of the trees outside. It took your eyes a second to adjust to the darkness before realizing that a pair of emerald eyes were staring right back at you.

You almost jumped out your seat, a shiver running up your spine before you heard a chuckle.

Ayato was leaned against a tree, throwing small rocks your way. What was he doing out of class? Maybe you were hallucinating after all.

"Ahem... Maybe YOU could tell us the difference between rosuvastatin and rosuvastatin calcium."

You felt your heart sink as you realized the teacher must've caught you looking out the window. The entire class was now looking at you, some of them already begging to say the answer, only to be let down by the teacher who looked expectantly at you.

"The difference is... Uh- Ow!"

The rest of students bursted out laughing as the teacher rolled her eyes.

"What is it now?"

You looked on the floor before picking up a pebble the size of your thumbnail. You shamefully glanced at the teacher, showing her your discovery.

"I think someone threw-"

You stopped in your own tracks, realizing just exactly what had happened just now. You clenched the stone in your hand, fumbling for words as anger pooled in the back of your head.

"Someone threw this at me!"

The teacher pinched her nose bridge before looking out the window.

"Seems like we have a comedian now. We'll see who's laughing once your grades are in."

Your hands gripped the edge of your chair on either side.

"I swear I-"

The teacher raised her voice, causing the entire room to go quiet.

"I DON'T want to hear it."

Your face grew red with embarrassment as you asked to be excused to the bathroom. Once you finally left, you almost felt tears of shame run down your cheeks. You could still here their bitter remarks from the other side of the door.

You marched outside angrily and saw him waiting in the courtyard with a knowing grin on his face. You stomped towards him, the sound of your shoe echoing throughout the surrounding area. Your body was rigid as the night air blew past your hair, slightly cooling the overwhelming heat in your cheeks.

You pointed an accusatory finger at him as you practically ran up towards his chest, eyes gleaming with determination.

"You! Look what you did! Now everyone thinks I'm some airhead that doesn't know the difference between rosuvastatin and rosuvastatin calcium!"

Ayato couldn't help but laugh at your puny attempt of a confrontation. His laughter mocking your anger, which caused you to grow more defensive.

"Apologize!"

Ayato halted his laughing, looking at you curiously.

"Who gives a fuck about your academic reputation anyways? Shu's always gonna bring down the average, so it doesn't even matter."

You looked at him with disbelief. You clenched your fist before feeling a small, hard object in your hand. The moment you registered what you were holding, you immediately took a step back and swang your hand harshly towards him, pelting him with the same pebble that he tossed at you, hitting him in his cheek.

All was quiet for a moment and you soon began to regret your decision.

"You bitch-"

As soon as the words came out his mouth, you took off. He wasn't far behind as you dodged and swerved past a couple students, Ayato close behind, bumping into every person you managed to avoid.

You turned a sharp corner and almost twisted your ankle as you sprang up the stairs. Eventually, you made it to the roof. You tried barricading the door but he easily pushed you out the way and onto the floor. You crawled back as he stood there, one arm holding the door wide open as his gaze was glued to the ground, refusing to look at you.

He stalked towards you before grabbing you by your shirt collar and raising you off your feet.

"Who the fuck do you think you are? You think you've got some special privilege over me just cause I drink your blood more than anyone else's? You're not the only one out there with a working heart, I've got my choices laid out for me, so don't be fooled just because I give you more attention."

You felt like throwing up, for more than one reason at this point. How did it even get to this? Your day couldn't have gone worse. You felt a gnawing in your chest, like something was scraping against it. Your throat started to ache as well and began to tighten.

Eventually you couldn't take it anymore and just began to let it all out. After everything that happened, what was the point in trying to keep your composure any longer?

Ayato's eyes widened slightly as you began to shake, tears pouring relentlessly as you didn't even bother to wipe them away. Your head just hanging there, motionless, save for the sniffling.

He dropped you back to the ground harshly, your body not even possessing the will to stand up. You slumped over to the floor, eyes trying to focus on his shoes in hopes of zoning out.

"Don't give me that crying crap. You put yourself in this position."

You stayed quiet, refusing to answer him. Your tears had stopped by now, but the aching in your heart hasn't.

"This wasn't called for... You're acting-"

Ayato cut you off, placing his feet at either side of you.

"I'm not acting like anything! You're getting what you deserved. You don't think I don't know what's going on!? You don't think I see the way you treat him? I'm not a fucking idiot."

You were taken aback. You slowly lifted your head up at him, trying to recall what he was talking about. Treat who like what?

"I don't understand what you're talking about..."

Ayato grabbed your arm and pulled you off the ground, his forehead touching yours.

"Tch.... Like hell you do. I've seen it for myself so there's no point in lying."

Your eyes finally met his and all you could see was unbridled rage. You knew you had to choose your words carefully from now. The chatter of students below didn't help your thought process. What have you changed recently that seemed to be bothering Ayato?

"Wait, you don't mean..."

Ayato sharpened his gaze, waiting for you to finish your sentence. Anticipating your next words.

"We were partnered up for a project...and Reiji said it was fine to not switch. As long as we did the work at school."

Ayato gritted his teeth.

"Well why the hell wouldn't you want to switch? What's so wrong with having me as your partner?"

You almost rolled your eyes. You couldn't believe this is why he was upset. But... Maybe it wasn't. Maybe something happened. You couldn't tell, so you just played along until he cracked on his own.

"Wouldn't it be strange that I dropped every partner I had, just to switch them out with you? People would find it suspicious."

Ayato eventually let go of you. He stormed away, walking towards the edge of the roof.

"I don't get it... It's not like I'm choosing them over you! I just thought it'd be a good change of pace, so people don't start getting ideas!"

It was quiet. He had stopped walking and didn't even bother to turn to you.

"You're ashamed of me... I knew it. You don't want people knowing that I claim you every night."

You blushed at his use of words. Still, you thought you weren't meant to be anything other than prey. So what does it matter if he drinks your blood every night?

"I'm not ashamed! It's just... Rumours spread and I-"

"That's a bullshit excuse! Who cares what people say!? I told you already, you're mines! You belong to me!"

Ayato whipped himself around before speed walking towards you, grabbing your by your throat and sinking his fangs deep into your flesh.

You gasped from the lack of air and tried to control your breathing despite it being impossible.

Ayato pulled his fangs out and released you from his grip. Your freedom was short lived before he pulled your hair back and forced you to look up at the sky as he bit down onto your nape.

The sucking sensation mixed with the pain, felt uncommon, but not necessarily unwelcomed. He continued lower and lower down your body until your shirt was half way off your chest.

"I'll show everyone what's mines, whether you like it or not. I'll bruise this stupid mortal body so badly that the teachers get worried for your safety. I'll write my name on every inch of you, no matter how long it takes, or what it takes. I'll use a knife to be more efficient, you won't get away from me. No matter where you are, your body will always scream my name."

Ayato began licking down your belly button. He forcibly held your wrists together, knotting them so you couldn't stop him.

Just then, you heard the door squeak open. You immediately spun your head around to see who it was, Ayato uncaring to the situation. Continuing to lick and suck at your waistline with complete disregard.

Your eyes widened with horror as you saw your teacher staring at you blankly. You felt so embarrassed and began to try to wiggle free from Ayato's grip, instead his mouth landed on your thigh as he looked up at your teacher. A stern look on his face as he made eye contact with the shock ridden woman, a look that made her immediately go back down the stairs as she yelled for the dean.

You took in your own disheveled appearance and soon realized that the dean would be the least of your worries once Reiji hears about this.

You heard Ayato chuckle, scanning his face to see what was going on inside his head. You thought he was upset, now this is funny because you got caught?

"Ayato, this isn't funny! We're going to get suspended!"

Ayato looked up at you as he kneeled on the floor, your calf tossed over his shoulder as he bit your lower leg.

"Wait... You- You knew this would happen! This was your plan all along! You knew she'd come looking for me! You expected us to get caught, didn't you!?"

Ayato lapped up the blood that dribbled down your knee.

"Now everyone knows who you belong to. And the rumours won't just be made up stories, so you can rest assured, heh."

Authour's note: credits for the divider above @kodaswrld

[im-a-wonderling]

Is It Still Punishment if It Was Worth It? ~ George Weasley

Summary: Y/N runs into George Weasley after her detention with Umbridge (aka me finishing a request from ages ago)

Warnings: Umbridge *shudders*

Word count: 2.4k

As I left the atrocious pink office, nothing around me stirred, as if the whole castle was frozen, lying in wait for the dawn. Light streamed through the open doorway, heralding my late release from detention. 

“Off to bed, dear,” said that sugary, poisonous voice behind me. “Don’t let Mr. Filch catch you lingering instead of being safe asleep in your bed.” Was it my imagination, or did the throbbing of the back of my hand pulse in time with her voice? 

I wanted nothing more than to scurry away as fast as my legs would allow, but like any predatory animal, Professor Umbridge could smell fear, so I simply bowed my head as demurely as possible, avoiding her deep-set gaze. “Yes, professor.” I could feel the horrid woman’s toad eyes following me as I walked down the wide staircase, heading for the dungeons. 

The door closed behind me with an ominous thud, and the light disappeared. 

Stopping in my tracks, I immediately turned the corner to a little alcove, slumping next to the window. I stared at the colored glass, depicting a dragon breathing flames up into the sky. My wound gave a particularly violent throb. “Ouch,” I hissed under my breath, staring down at the shiny red letters.

I must obey the rules.

Cradling my aching hand to my chest, I let out a long breath. Every pang seemed to ring through my whole body, and yet, instead of acting as a deterrent, I was all the more resolved in my actions. If Umbridge had forced my brother to write those words and endure this pain, even her title as High Inquisitor would not have saved her from my wrath. 

“Well, that’s a first.”

I jolted. At first, I wondered if it’d been the dragon that spoke—often things at Hogwarts spoke when one might think they shouldn’t. But the dragon didn’t move. I looked around me, just in time to see the tapestry further down the stairs shift, and a red-headed boy came out from behind it.

George Weasley. Certified troublemaker with an un-shuttable gob and downright homemade values, the very personification of Godric Gryffindor’s ideal student. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

George gestured to my hand. “I didn’t know she punished Slytherins too.” He spoke the word without distaste, but with an emphasis all the same.

I just shook my head and left my alcove, heading for the Slytherin common room. There was no point in arguing in Slytherin’s favor; the history in this castle chronicled many a Slytherin who tried and subsequently had to run for the Hospital Wing before a toenail-growing hex grew too painful to walk.

Unfortunately, the redhead sidled into my path. I took several steps back, checking for the location of his wand, prepared to whip out my own before he could cast anything. But his hands were empty, and judging by the way he watched me, his head was regrettably anything but.

“You’re in my way,” I said calmly.

“Malfoy shouldn’t have done that.”

The simple statement made my lungs falter for breath, but I kept my face impassive. “He didn’t have a choice.”

“No, he had a choice.” George’s maddeningly certain tone set my teeth on edge.

I scoffed, walking down the staircase. “You don’t understand, you couldn’t possibly understand what he faces.”

“Oh, yes,” George’s voice grew louder and mocking, following me on my heels, “poor little rich Malfoy, head of the Inquisitor Squad, can’t handle–”

“Sod off.” My gritted teeth added all the threat I wanted, but George wasn’t deterred.

“What a slog it is, having everything one could possibly–”

I whirled around, my hands finding George’s chest to shove him as hard as I could. “You don’t know what it’s like!” I hissed, glaring at him. “You and your brothers just do whatever you fancy at the moment, whatever wicked thing halfway crosses your mind. Well, not all of us have the luxury of doing what we want.”

George looked as serious as I’d ever seen him. “He could’ve spared you this and he didn’t. No true friend would scurry off to Umbridge to report you like that.”

For a moment, I considered starting a row, but Umbridge’s office was still within earshot, and I didn’t want another round of writing with that cursed quill. So I chose not to acknowledge him, walking down the stairs with my head held high, reaching the bottom of the stairs and quickly walking down the corridor, hoping my feet could outrun George’s mouth. But when I looked to my right, there was George, loping alongside me.

“Seriously–”

“Seriously, George, shut it.” I came to a stop, glaring up at him. “What are you even doing here? It’s past curfew.”

“Some of us are taking turns behind the tapestry,” he said easily. “Watching in case any first or second years get turned out of Umbridge’s office with bleeding hands.”

“Oh?” I tossed my head, moving my hair to one side. “And if it were a Slytherin first year, would you have greeted them the way you greeted me?” If my kid brother had been the one walking out of the office, I silently asked, would you have comforted him? 

“Perhaps, but I’m willing to bet that they, unlike you, would accept a hug and a trip to the kitchens for some dessert afterwards.”

My stomach rumbled, and I placed my uninjured hand over it. “Well, I’m no first year, so you can go.” I resumed my furious pace.

George easily kept up. “It wasn’t fair of Malfoy to do that.”

Was it impossible for him to leave well enough alone? “When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.”

“Everyone knows you were just protecting your brother.”

I seized the collar of George’s robes, dragging his face down an inch from mine. “Don’t you dare–

“I’m not going to tell,” George said, remarkably calm considering how quickly his position had changed. 

“How am I supposed to trust that?”

“I’m not Malfoy.” 

I considered him for another moment before letting him go. He straightened, smoothing out his robes. “How did you know?” I asked. 

George gave a short laugh. “You’ve never touched a broomstick outside of Flying class, and yet I’m supposed to believe you even have a broomstick to bring into the castle?” He shook his head. “Anyone with eyes knows you’d do anything for your brother, so of course Umbridge is the only one daft enough to fall for your switcheroo.” 

I pondered his words for a moment before turning to walk back to my room. Like before, George kept time beside me. “She shouldn’t have given detention just for having a broomstick.” 

I shook my head. “There are rules.”

“And rules were made to–”

“–be broken?” I rolled my eyes. “Of course. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a Gryffindor.”

“Says the Slytherin who just got out of detention.” I bit my tongue, trying to stay silent. “You should tell your head of house what Umbridge’s doing, maybe Snape’ll do something about–”

I let out a short laugh. “See, there’s the difference between you and me, George–”

George leapt forward, covering my mouth. Next thing I knew, I was being tugged behind a statue, finally pulled to meet George’s alarmed expression.

This was it. I should’ve known better than to trust a Gryffindor. Now he was going to hex me or curse me or even forgo a wand altogether and use his own two fists. 

Eyes wide, I tried to shove him away, protesting loudly from behind his hand. “Shush!” George said harshly. “Filch!”

I instantly stopped fighting, my heart pounding for a different reason. If George and I were caught by Filch right now, not only would I have another detention with Umbridge, but word would get out. I couldn’t even imagine the trouble I’d be in with my house if they found out I was out at night past curfew with a Gryffindor, and a Weasley at that!

The light of the lantern the caretaker always carried with him after hours grew closer and closer to the statue we crouched behind. George lifted his hand from my mouth, pressing a finger to his lips. I rolled my eyes. As if I didn’t already get the memo. 

“Anyone about, my dear?” Filch’s haughty voice asked. Mrs. Norris meowed back, and I heard the sound of a dark chuckle. "Professor Umbridge might allow us to try our new manacles.”

George and I met eyes. 

He made a stop gesture and then started to creep forward towards Filch. What could he possibly be planning? Filch would see him! 

Then it occurred to me. The noble idiot was about to sacrifice himself so that I would stay undetected. 

Oh no you don’t, I thought, seizing the back of George’s robes, dragging him back. I was not about to owe a Gryffindor anything. I pulled out my wand and a tissue I'd forgotten was there.

Snufflifors, I mouthed. 

The tissue morphed into a white mouse, which immediately scampered down the corridor. Immediately, Mrs. Norris sped after it. 

“My dear!” Filch protested, running after her, the light from his lantern growing farther and farther away until George and I were left alone in the dark. 

“Wow,” George stared in the direction Filch had gone, “that was quite impressive.”

The compliment made my cheeks warm. “Well, some of us jump into things without thinking about the consequences and some of us actually use our brains for more than pranks.” I shoved my wand into my pocket, about to storm down the corridor. 

“So you thought it through beforehand?”

“I didn’t necessarily plan to get caught by–”

“No, you thought through taking the blame for your brother?” 

I stopped short, allowing George to catch up with me. I eyed him warily. Was he fishing for evidence to get my brother in trouble? Or was he fishing for other reasons?  “Of course I did,” I said finally, deciding that my word against George’s was hardly any competition. 

A strange look twinkled in his eyes at that. “You actually thought about getting in trouble?” I didn’t reply. I should’ve known that I wouldn’t need to, because George could easily carry a conversation by himself. “You knew you could lose house points? And Hogsmeade could become off-limits to you? And that you might end up with words scratched into the back of your hand?” 

My silence was the only answer. Truthfully, he was right. I’d thought through all those possibilities. 

I’d earned Slytherin enough points throughout the years that any deduction wouldn’t damage my reputation too badly for anyone not in the Inquisitor Squad, especially under Umbridge’s reign. As for Hogsmeade, the castle itself was large enough to keep me from feeling claustrophobic. And, yes, I even budgeted for the possibility of getting detention with Umbridge; that’s why there was a Soothing potion waiting for me in my room. 

What I hadn’t anticipated was Malfoy being the one to report me. 

So much for being friends. 

George shuffled closer, bringing me to the present with his brown eyes. “You thought through the possibilities, and you still did it?” I nodded, and a grin broke out on his face. “Are you sure you aren’t supposed to be in Gryffindor?”

I made a disgusted sound in the back of my throat. “How dare you,” I said blandly. 

“I’m serious,” he said with a smile that said the opposite. “You’re quite the little risk-taker.” 

“Is it really risk-taking,” I murmured, “if you’re prepared for all the risks?” 

The inner corners of George’s eyebrows turned upward, his smile dimming to a more serious affect. “Was it worth it even though you got caught and punished?” 

“Is it still punishment if it was worth it?” 

His freckled face relaxed at the question, smoothing out until it was without pucker or twinge. “Should there be a rule against it if it’s still worth it?” he murmured.

I brought out my hand, looking down on it so I could once again read the message waiting there. The shiny letters didn’t hold any answers within their crimson hue. “I’m not sure.”

A hand reached out to touch mine, and my breath caught when I saw, on the back of George’s hand, familiar words, written in narrower handwriting.

I must obey the rules.

“Funny,” George said softly. “Regardless of what happened beforehand, we ended up the same.”

I slowly dragged my eyes up to meet his. “Not quite.” I smiled sadly. “I’m apparently friendless.” 

“Not friendless,” George murmured like a promise. “Not if you don’t want to be.”

I studied him, searching for any sign of deception. His locks had darkened over the years. In our first year, they could only be described as flaming, his hair as dangerous as his tendencies, but now they’d tempered into a comforting copper hue. His freckles also faded, though there were still just as many of them. His eyebrows normally promised even more trouble than his mischievous eyes, but now, nothing in his face seemed disingenuous. “Can Slytherins and Gryffindors even be friends?” I asked.

“Is it risk-taking if you’re prepared for all the risks?” George echoed.

I gave a short laugh. “Touchè.”

“Besides,” George said with a smirk, “you could do with friends better than that old tosser.”

I wanted to laugh, truly I did. Or perhaps I wanted to care little enough to be able to laugh. But alas, I cared too much, so I simply shook it off. “I’d better go, before Filch actually finds us.” 

“Fair enough.” George dropped my hand, and I missed the warmth immediately. “See you around, Y/N?”

I took great care to lessen my smile into a smirk. “If you’re lucky,” I replied.

George gave a relaxed salute before walking back the way we’d come, presumably to take up his place behind the tapestry.

I watched him go. Funny, I may not have been a first year, and he may not have taken me to the kitchens for dessert, and yet…I was glad for anyone else who might leave Umbridge’s office when George waited for them behind the tapestry.

-

Read the continuation here!

If you enjoyed this, you might also enjoy my other George fanfic: Seven Years of Bad Luck

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

[holrye]

A love she can't have

summary: a window into the sacred nights of a small island kingdoms queen and her lover

tags: plot divergence, smut, fluff, light angst, yearning, implied chubby reader (section is tiny)

a/n: ahhhh, so I'm super nervous to post this, lol. Im not the most confident in my writing, and I've been working on the idea for this for so long. tbh I don't know if I like how it turned out. I made so many different versions, and this is the only one that stuck. I hope you guys like it :)

One night, every six or seven months, the estate of this small island kingdom is empty.

No bustling of maids and butlers as they prepare meals and clean. The orange hue of the lights inside are dimmed and the sheer curtains are often drawn.

A tradition, some would call it. Others would say it's strange. What could the young ruler do all to her lonesome up in that immense estate? Does she force her staff to leave for nefarious reasons? What secrets could she be hiding? All fair questions that will go unanswered for as long as you live. 

Privacy as the ruler of a nation is somewhat expected to wane upon your coronation. The kings and queens before you knew this, and were mindful of it. But never has a ruler taken so many precautions as you on these particular nights. These nights were often random to the public as well, the only sign being when the staff are ushered from the large french doors at the estates entrance. 

What could the diligent leader be cooping herself up for?

Oh, if they only knew…

If your people only knew that their queen was hiding a scandalous affair, with a pirate no less. What would people think? They’d say you’d gone insane, and were seduced by some horrid marauder. You’d lose every ounce of power you gained and be left to fend for yourself. Not a thing to your name other than the clothes on your back, they’d raid the estate and denounce you. 

So, these nights are secret. Whispers between you and your midnight guest that never leave the halls of the estate.

Though the guest in question is far less worried about the conspicuousness of your meetings. Not because he lacks care for your reputation, but because some would say he's a bit obtuse. A fool in love with someone he should never associate with.

-

You only become aware of his visits hours before he arrives, leaving you little time to fruitfully convince your entire staff to leave. Though it sounds unchallenging, your estate employs hundreds of people. Gardeners, chefs, handmaids, every task you could do yourself is done for you, mostly at the behest of your late mother who ruled before you. 

There's only so many excuses you can use without sounding suspicious. You want them to spend the night with their families or you’d like the estate to yourself or you had an awful mark on your back you didn’t want anyone to see as you bathed (that last one only made your head maid look at you worried). 

By now, they’d chalked it up to your eccentricity. The queen is just a bit strange. It made you more likable to some, relatable. There was little judgment, at least to your face, though that too was likely because of your rank. You cared little, as long as they were all gone before he blew in. 

He usually arrived just before midnight, his boat tied just off shore. A small cove sat behind your estate, sharp boulders and thick shrubbery concealing it. This is where he hides his vessel, only doing so after it was nearly found the morning after by a gardener. 

You scolded him harshly in your letters through the following months.

You’d wait on your bedroom balcony, watching the bushes. Sitting at the small table, eagerly stirring your cup of tea and waiting. Your feet are bare, cold from the breeze and the stone underfoot. 

The chill of soft trepidation is a feeling you’ve come to know since you met him. An almost nauseous feeling in your stomach, stiff cold limbs, a heavy chest. The months worth of built up suspense that has you on the edge, tempting you to jump.

Only when a hint of tanned skin is seen through the leaves, does your chest tighten. The bush moves again and his body pushes through, nearly falling to the grass. He catches himself before looking up to your balcony.

A smile stretches his freckled cheeks, and his feet are moving again.

You stand, gulping the last drink from your cup before hastily fixing yourself. Crickets and his heavy breaths as he climbs up the balcony are the only noise throughout the garden. It seemingly makes your heart pound faster, anticipation building in your belly. 

With a few more pulls, the man hops over the banister and stands before you. A shallow and shaky breath leaves your nose. Months of letters, declarations of love and yearning built up to this meeting. It always feels like the first time, standing before him in your frilly nightgown. It's embarrassing and euphoric all at once.

“Long time, no see.” His voice is soft, smile apparent as he speaks.

You smile up at him, blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hello, my love.” Your voice is softer than you mean it to be. He moves a step closer, and you notice the small bundle of letters in his hand. They’re addressed to him and the handwriting is your soft cursive. You question his purpose in bringing them, but don’t ask. 

“Have you eaten?” You ask. It’s a silly question now that you think about it, the man is known for his appetite.

He nods, still smiling as he moves closer again. His hand meets your arm, slowly sliding up to lay against your neck. The movement is soft, his thumb caressing your jaw as he looks at you. 

Your arms move to his shoulders, broad and strong. They slip to the back of his neck, dark, wet hair matting to your hand. He smells of salt water and sweat. He likely had to snow to shore due to high tide, which completely engulfed the cove most nights.

His eyes droop, as he presses a hungry kiss to your lips. It has you curling into him, his full hand meeting your hip. His feet start to move you backward, against the cold stone wall behind you. His hand moves from your jaw to the space beside your head, stealing your breath as he kisses you. Your hands twist into his hair, keeping him there until you both break with a gasp. 

He moves his hand to your lower back, pulling you into him again only for you to press a palm to his mouth. His eyebrows twist as he looks at you.

“I have some things inside for you.” You say, cocking your head to the left.

“Of course you do.” He smiles at you again.

-

Your bedroom, a large rounded room with a bed much too big for one, is lit with hundreds of candles. Two bottles of champagne sit unopened on the table in the middle of the room with two glasses sat to the side. An array of cheeses, bread and fruit sit on a plate to the side as well.

The bedspread is soft below you, your eyes glued to the liquid in the flute as you listen to Ace read your writing. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and your head rests against his hip as his voice nearly soothes you to sleep. You want to make a bed out of his tambre and sleep in it forever.

“I fear the selfishness I feel when you aren’t in my company. I cower at the thought of it boiling over and taking hold of me, interfering in my daily work. I yearn so much for the day I can be with you, freely, without the need to veil our flirtation. To think, I rule a nation as a queen. I wield power most only dream of, and yet I feel powerless in your absence. It nearly sickens me.” He pauses, looking at you over the parchment. 

“A kiss would satiate me for the time being. I soft kiss that speaks your tenor and goes by your name. I look forward to when we meet again, my love. May that heavenly time come soon.” He ends it by saying your signature out loud. He folds that paper again, placing it back in its envelope. 

The look on your face is melancholic, thinking back to the sadness you felt writing those letters to him. How much you missed him and what you would’ve done to see him at the time. It's embarrassing, listening to the heart you poured into the paper for him out loud.

He looks at you again, hand moving to the top of your head. He plays with the hair there, the comfortable silence taking the place of his voice.

“Is Edward well? I heard his health started declining again.” You ask, sipping from your glass again.

He nods, smile fading slightly as he speaks again.

“Yeah, the old man shouldn’t work himself as hard as he does. It's catching up to him.” Whitebeard was an acquaintance of your father, often meeting him for peace treaty signings. Even as a pirate, he’d earned your fathers respect.

“Hardworking as ever.” You smile.

He smiles as you sit up, finishing your glass off and setting it upon the bedside table. 

“You're one to talk, your highness.” He chuckles, extending his arm for you to lay against his chest.

“Ruling a kingdom is a lot of work. I do what I have to do. You’d think being a pirate, he’d use more of his free time being…free.” You say. A soft laugh leaves his chest as he nods his head.

“You’d think.” His voice evens out again as he looks down at you.

Your hand moves to cup his cheek, holding it there for a moment. It’s warm. Everything about Ace is. Whether it be his devil fruit or his personality. He warms your heart in a way you’ve never felt before. It makes it harder when you have to watch him leave, his broad form disappearing in the bushes. You’d say goodbye to him with tears in your eyes as he kissed your lips and abandon that warmth until you saw him again.

“You're so beautiful.” You don’t mean to say it out loud, biting your lip when your mouth speaks before you catch yourself. His lips quirk, eyes half-massed as he gazes at you.

“I could say the same about you, sweetheart.” He chuckles.

The room goes quiet again.

He takes your hand in his, pressing your palm to his lips. It's soft and he keeps moving up your arm, to your shoulder. He pauses a moment before looking at you again. 

“Is this okay?” He asks, kissing your shoulder again. A blush brightens your cheeks. You know what he's asking.

With a dry swallow, you nod and he smiles for the millionth time tonight. He climbs on top of you, moving from your collar bone up to your neck. Your hands move to his head, grasping the hair there at the sensation. He kisses the section just below your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

A throaty chuckle falls from him as he starts his descent of your body. A kiss pressed to your collarbone, a kiss to your sternum, a kiss to your belly, it's all too much. His hands meet your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress slightly. He moves down, pressing soft kisses to the middle of your thighs.

“You're so soft.” He says, smiling into your sensitive skin. You sigh, wanting nothing more than for him to ravish you like he’s done so many times before. His hands bunch at the end of your skirt, slowly pulling it up inch by tantalizing inch. It's enough anticipation to make you sick. 

He raises the hem to your hips, your lacy undergarments showing. You sit up as he pulls it off of you, your breasts bouncing as they fall. He kisses your lips again, before laying you down on the bed again. Your knees press together, a familiar warmth swirling through your gut and into your core.

His hands land on your hips, softly squeezing the skin that lightly hangs over your panties. Your breath catches when he kneels at the edge of your bed, looping his fingers into your underwear and slipping them down your thighs.

He exhales loudly, seemingly holding his breath before. He takes your knees over his shoulders, nipping at the fat of your thighs. A long stripe from your inner thigh to your groin has you shaking. His hands move to yours scrunched up in the blankets, lacing your fingers together.

A slow lick to your clit leaves you breathless, eyes shutting as you squeeze his hands. 

“You taste so good.” it's muffled by your skin, but you understand him. He licks you again, softly sucking your clit into his mouth. 

His mouth is so warm and wet, it has you in a euphoric state. This feeling only he can give you, one that you want to feel forever. Making love to Ace felt otherworldly, no matter how many times you did it.

“Ace..ah-” Your voice is caught in your throat, his tongue moving down to your hole.

“Yes, my love?” His tone is mocking, as if demanding you answer him. Your lips are raw, drool dripping from the corner of your mouth as you try to speak.

Words fail you, one of your hands moving from his, to his head. Leverage.

He hums into you, slipping his tongue in and out of you a few times before replacing it with his finger. His mouth moves back to your clit and your seeing stars, the blinding white matching the pace of the growing knot in your stomach.

“Ace-” You sigh as your muscles tense up. Your orgasm hits you in waves, leaving your thighs shaking around his face. He sucks the soft skin around your pussy as you come down, hands moving to your thighs.

“Mm, baby…” He says, his voice hoarse as he moves up to your face. Your skin is sticky, hair sticking to your face and palms sweating. He kisses you, the heady taste of yourself on his tongue. Your hands move to his face, draping your arms around his neck.

With little hesitation, he reaches for the buckle of his shorts, dropping them and climbing on top of you. You lift your legs, wrapping them around his hips. 

“You ready?” He asks, and you nuzzle your nose into his. With a huff, he’s pushing in and the both of you sigh loudly at the contact. His movements start slow, smooth.

His hips meet yours and your eyes go white. His hand rests next to your head, his thrusts making his bicep flex a bit. It makes you drool, pressing a kiss to his wrist as he evens out his pace.

“You feel so good…hah-” His breathing is erratic and his other hand moves to the fold of your knee. Your head falls back, moans leaving you otherwise speechless. It feels so good, you can’t move.

His pace picks up, quickening as both of you approach your highs. Your breathing is stunted and your eyes are clenched shut. Ace moves his face to the crook of your neck, licking a strip up to your chin. Everything is perfect.

“I love you.” You say, looking him in the eyes. You swear you feel his cock throb inside you.

“I love you too, your highness.” He smirks.

With two or three deep thrusts, he’s finishing inside you. You scream, voice breaking when you finally cum again. He thrusts a couple more times, only pulling out when his cock stops throbbing. Your pussy clenches around nothing, his cum dripping out of you onto the pristine sheets. 

He falls into the empty space next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as you clench your thighs together again. The aftershocks leave you drowsy and you roll in to his chest, drifting to sleep.

-

You don’t wake again until the early morning the next day. Ace is awake, his warm hands brushing through your hair. Your eyes scrunch at the brightening horizon before looking back at him.

“You sleep ok?” He asks.

You nod, kissing his jaw before rising to stretch. He rubs a hand down your back and gets out of bed.

Mornings after he visits are melancholy, knowing the inevitable has come to pass yet again. He’ll leave you for another period of time unknown to him or you. Your letters will be the only form of communication you'll have for months. It’s all a bit too much to bear.

You rise, hugging him from behind as he puts his clothes back on. Freckles decorate his back and shoulders and you want to count every one of them.

Before you know it, you stand looking up at him on your balcony wrapped in a sheet. His kiss is as warm as ever, not wanting to leave. You hold him there for a while, tears nearly forming in your eyes already.

“I’ll see you soon.” You nearly whimper. He wipes your eyes with his thumbs, smiling at you. 

“I’ll keep you in my thoughts, my love.” He smiles and you remember your gift you still have to give him.

“Wait!” You say, scurrying inside and grabbing a small locket off of your vanity. You hand it to him, and he opens it.

“Keep it close to your heart.” You say. The picture inside is of you, and it warms his heart. A smile creases his eyes as kisses you again. He kisses your cheeks and your forehead as the sun starts to show over the horizon.

“I love you.” He says, slowly stepping back and over the banaster. You reach your hands out one last time, cupping his face and kissing him before he climbs down and runs through the garden. 

With one final wave and kiss to his palm, he disappears into the greenery.

-

No one knows why the queen hides herself away certain nights of the year. Maybe shes up to nefarious activities. Maybe she does have secrets. 

Maybe she's just in love with someone she can’t have.

[ro-writesstuff]

again - matty healy blurb

minors do not interact, all fics are 18+

a/n: this is just an excuse for me to write about matty. friendly reminder my inbox is open if you have a request for a fic 🤗 anyway enjoy lovelies!

summary: you accidentally match with your ex on a dating app.

content warnings: cursing, hinge, angst? idk anymore

***

you thumb swipes with a mind of its own, sorting the guys into the yes or no category, eyes not paying attention to who you were swiping for.

and frankly, you didn’t really care.

there were some cute guys, you’ll admit, but most of them weren’t your type at all. pictures of shirtless men were plastered all over your phone, to be honest they were all starting to look alike.

you catch a glimpse of a curly headed guy, swipe him away, and the screen stops for a moment; suddenly that smile is very familiar.

“no no no,” you whisper.

less than a second later, matty’s profile slides next to yours, with block letters that say it’s a match! with some confetti.

oh fuck. out of panic, you shout and toss your phone, it getting lost in the sheets. the feeling sets in deep in your chest. holy fuck.

this is going to be interesting.

a small message lights up your lockscreen, and sure enough:

matty sent you a message!

“seriously?” annoyance and a bit of fear fill your lungs. it didn’t end badly with matty, it just didn’t end up working for you guys. trying to match your schedules for days on end just to catch a glimpse of each other wasn’t easy, so you decided to break it off. curious, you open the message.

matty: hey

you fingers hover over the lit up keys. a sigh escapes your lungs as you type.

you: hi?

holy shit you actually responded, he thought. he’s made too many profiles on a myriad of dating apps to fuck this up. a surge of adrenaline zips through his spine as he taps on his screen.

matty: fate’s brought us together again

oh lord.

you: guess so

matty: so…

the animated bubble floats around for a while.

matty: what are you up to love?

his Britishness is seeping through the screen, and you can practically hear his sweet and sexy accent, and you’re hating every second of it.

you: what do you want

matty: fiesty today are we?

you: matty.

he sighs, wiping the nonexistent sweat from his forehead. this was the most you’ve talked, well communicated, since you broke up. he missed you.

matty: just wanted to talk to you

your eyes roll back into your head so hard it almost hurts.

you: and you thought hinge was the best way to find me?

matty: not my fault you blocked me.

you sigh, leaving him on read for a moment to think. in the context it seemed like the right thing to do, you threw out everything of his you had, so why not his phone number as well?

you: you could’ve talked to charli

you: she would’ve relayed the message

matty: what if I wanted to talk to the source?

you’ve had just about enough of this.

you: the source is about to block you for the second time fucker

a smile appears on his face; he’d missed your snarky replies. he types quick, hoping to send the message as fast as possible. knowing your quick rage, he knew you would block his ass if given another chance.

matty: look love i just want to try this again

matty: we’ve finished tour and are off for the next year

matty: just think about it, okay?

your eyes follow the letters, trying to make sense of what the hell is happening. your stomach turns in a way it never has, mixed with familiarity and apprehension. you’d had just gotten over him and now he wants to try your relationship again? this was insane. a buzz from your phone pulls you out of your haze.

matty: darling please respond I know you’re there

you’ve realized you’ve left him read for three minutes, and slowly typed out your response.

you: i don’t know matty

good, he thought. he still has time to convince you.

matty: can we meet at that horrid coffee place you like? i can be there in ten

you chuckle to yourself; he always hated that place, probably because one of the baristas blatantly flirted with you, writing his number on your cup. matty mumbled something along the lines of fuckin’ wanker… paired with a cold blooded stare as he held the door open for you. he’d be extra protective, placing soft kisses on your temple, repeatedly reminding you that you were his while his hands attached to your hips and-

wait, why were you started to get that giddy feeling again?

matty: y/n?

you: fine. leaving now

matty: 🖤

[jacks347]

Soooo I swore last year that I wouldn't listen to Blue Infinity until it was done because I refused to get dragged through the ups and downs of Desmond's schedule again

Well, the finale went up this morning and a certain someone (hi Escaped) has so helpfully reminded me of my promise so now I have to follow through

So I decided to make this a little more fun and do another live reaction thing and drag all of you along for the ride :3

Hope you brought snacks, this is gonna be a long one-

!!Spoilers ahead if you haven't listened to Blue Infinity!!

I've been told since I liked Matador Gothic ("liked" is not nearly a strong enough word for it but okay-) that I'll love this so I have high expectations

I also have literally zero idea what the plot is going into this, all I know is that there's pirates and weird time anomaly things so this is gonna be fun

Episode One

YouTube won't let me do picture in picture boooo

New Vermont, that's a new one alright-

That's a child, whose child is this

Oh?? A promise to a special someone?? Oo, alright I'm invested now (that didn't take long)

Okay so this is Fletcher. Good to meet ya properly after so long avoiding you-

So, little fun fact about me, I absolutely love fast forward moments when you see the married main characters talk about their spouse I don't know why but it sends the little girl in me who grew up reading fairy tales about happily ever after into a squealing giggle fit so listening to Fletcher and Lily talk about Lass like this is making me so happy

It's been so long since I actually heard Desmond's voice that I straight up didn't recognize him for a second well hello you Houdini ass bitch

"He sent us a letter" Isn't...isn't he blind?? Excuse the man for not remembering a thing he can't even see

That music just plucked the weird sense of deja vu out of my soul Escaped I know my memory is shit but that doesn't mean you need to make me feel like Simon-

The what? He said that name so fast I don't even know what it was-

The accent getting shakier and shakier is unfortunate but kinda funny I'm sorry XD

Alright, out of the future, time to actually start this story!

Ooo shiny blue something~ (I don't blame you Fletcher, I have crow brain too)

"Perhaps there's some kind of rational explanation" Honey this is an Escaped script, nothing about this is going to be rational

I'm going to assume the lady in the ice is Lass aka us! What could I have possibly done to get the Obi-Wan treatment

Is he literally just standing there breathing on me like a fucking weirdo, it's 1789 I bet his breath is horrid-

I'm not used to this level of visual for an Escaped video, the scene changes are fun

So the Drift is the continents doing the continent thing, clearly I've been listening to too much GB cause I thought it meant the planets or universe splitting and this was all in space. How boring :P

IMMA BE A PIRATE >:D

What is with Escaped series having their roll credits moment in the first episode

Ah well, we're in it now folks!

Also this outro music is epic as hell

~Dinner break~

Episode Two

I've got my picture in picture back! That'll make this so much easier-

Ooo, that background is so pretty

Gaia's Mercy...as a timber ship

Gaia, goddess of the earth...

Yeah you deserve to get boarded by pirates for that one, ya brought it on yourselves

Fletcher is really skinny for a seaborne lumberjack, we were robbed of thicc Fletcher y'all

:D HI DADE

A bride?? Moi?? Sir I don't know what you mean

Immediately sending my soft handed self to go rigging ropes, do you want me to tear my hands open Fletcher?

Don't hurt yourself Fletcher, it's just a sail-

"So you want to be a sailor" I mean not really but I don't have much a choice now do I

Y'know what, I could fully believe Stonehenge was a gateway to the fae realm

Boooo Byron you're so boring, have some fun for once in your life

OOO YES SHANTY TIME

I love sea shanties, I'm having a great time

WOO ENCORE

Sir I have anxiety, I'd rather throw myself overboard than sing in front of people (still love to sing though)

I'm gonna get kidnapped, I can sense it~

Hi Scythe, how've ya been

Bro, Carmichael, take the hook and stab his eyes out it's not that hard

Can I just like...go over there and shove that hook where it'll really sting? How's a castration sound >:3

HE DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A GUN, LITERALLY PUSH HIM OVERBOARD WHAT'S HE GONNA DO

Bitch you touch me and I'm knocking your teeth out

Commanded by a scary pirate blah blah blah, we're in the middle of the ocean do you know how long it's gonna take before he even starts to suspect you're missing?

RUN YE BASTARDS >:D

So I've been at sea for all of an hour and have already started a war with pirates...that's a new record

Episode Three

And it's gone again, how have I made a mini series of "Which Blue Infinity episodes will let me have picture in picture"

Three weeks?? Honey I was on a boat for a couple of hours and wanted a nap the second I stepped foot on dry land, I'm gonna walk off the ship and just pass out in the grass

Byron, calm yourself there's a lady present >:P

I can tell you why it hasn't moved again, ✨️plot convenience✨️

So an area of the world no one can get to cause you'll get stuck since the winds don't blow...I've been listening to too much Epic the Musical cause my immediate thought was Calypso's island-

...so the Simon Fletcher knew on the whaling ship is definitely Blind Simon, right?

Byron calling someone else foul-mouthed. Pot, meet kettle

Also, to no one's surprise, Escaped manages to find a way to rope Spanish culture into a series (not that you're gonna hear me complain but it happens every time XD)

A bartender that always lies, now that's a concept I could use

Oh no it's white boy Spanish Byron stop it hurts-

Don't worry Fletcher I can't dance either, we'll look stupid together

Awww, Captain asking her to dance, that's so sweet

Feels like I'm dancing with my dad, loving the moment

Fletcher asking Lass to dance got me over here giggling and kicking my feet god I am such a sucker for classic romance

I'm very prepared for this moment to go so incredibly wrong, what's the catch Escaped you can't trick me

THAT WAS SO CUTE MY FACE HURTS FROM SMILING

And here come the buzzkills~

Johnny, they know you're a liar, say yes they'll never believe you

If Francesca talks any slower I'm going to punch her, maybe a few less teeth will help ya spit it out

So Olaf ran to tattle because he got his ass handed to him, sounds like a you problem ya overconfident bastard

Stop letting her monolog and kick her knees in already why is this such a hard concept

"We won't hurt you" Uh yeah I'm gonna take an educated guess and call bullshit

We could've avoided all this if any of you went with the SURPRISE ATTACK BUT NOOOO NOW FLETCHER HAS A HOLE IN HIS FUCKIN CHEST

Girl, jump overboard and swim, it's the 1700s it'll take him at least 30 seconds to reload if he wants to kill you it's not that goddamn hard

"My name...is Blind Simon" No, really? I thought it was Deaf Patrick, no fucking shit Sherlock

Once again, the outro music goes hard

Episode Four

We're halfway through and I am so invested in this, I'm very glad I waited it would've been torture waiting in real time

And the picture in picture returns! Yes I'm going to keep updating this

Have it?? Have what?? HEH??

Sir get your hand off my goddamn neck before I snap it

Sweat of Neptune? ...ew (Also waiter you got some Roman in my Greek mythology YOUR SHIP IS PERSEPHONE BUT YOU'RE AFTER NEPTUNE PICK A FUCKING CITY AND STICK TO IT)

"I'm sure you want answers" Actually no I'm perfectly fine with my gem just being pretty and mysterious, fuck you

"I joined a whaling ship" Called it-

"The green stone hold the tears of Neptune" And a-yoink, mine now bye <3

Oh hi Lily, I was wondering when you'd finally enter the story

So if your whole thing is finding a siren, the fuck you need me for?

Yeah how about...no, my gem it's pretty >:P

Lass, take a page out of Faith's book and kick him in the dick

I don't care if it's worth protecting or not! I'm just keeping it cause you want it and I don't like you! Spite is a powerful thing

Aww, Fletcher has come for me

OH YOU BITCH

WHAT THE FUCK

Oh this explains a few things from episode one but I don't like it

Episode Five

Escaped you better have some damn good comfort fluff for hurting my girl

My picture in picture remains

Oh we're back in the future with some lovely Keya art~

Yes, please continue the story Fletcher

Avenge me Fletcher, avenge my eyes

Oh? Hello again Lily

Dude, how do you expect me to tell if you're still bleeding they took my fucking eyes

Lady I've learned to not trust literally anyone I come across here

Oh that's...a sound

Oh he got hit in the shoulder, I thought he just had a hole in his sternum

"You have something of mine" The next person that asks for this gem is getting beat with it

Ooo what does it do

Simon's controls the wind, I'm gonna take a wild guess and say one controls the waves, and shot in the dark for the last one and say it controls the creatures of the ocean. If bringing them all together would create a new god of the sea then the three have to have an element of the god's domain in the pieces left over. The wind, the waves, and all the things that live in the water. That's my theory, we're just gonna run with it and guess that Lass's gem controls the water

Oh I met Simon. HE STOLE MY FUCKING EYES

Aw, poor Lily

Wait did she kidnap a dude?? Is she holding some guy hostage because she likes his stories??

The picture in my head of this scene right now is so classically cheesy and I'm in love

Yes, stick your finger in my eye, that sounds like a great idea

...is that who I think it is?

Oh my god he's back-

What happened to him he sounds crazy and I kind of love it

Oh Fletcher, sit down baby you're losing it XD

This isn't happening, this ragtag group is not real oh my sweet lord we're all gonna die-

But it's gonna be funny-

Episode Six

Pretty sure my picture in picture is secure now but I'll keep updating for continuity

Claw has interchangeable hands, why am I not surprised

Just say you want a robot Escaped, any series that manages to take place after 2010 would be a miracle all on its own-

Scythe hits those T's so hard, like my guy it's just a letter it's not that serious XD

"I got it in" Good job buddy, proud of you

Fletcher doesn't need his mom to find him a wife, he's already got one he just doesn't know it yet <3

"Isn't she a beauty" I'd love to tell you but I seem to be lacking eyeballs

Charms, sure Claw, whatever you saw hun

Wait what am I up to, filling cracks in the wood or something?

I can physically see him leading her by the arm god that's that good shit

Awww stop it you're too sweet

I love blind and seeing romances, something about it scratches that good itch in my brain

Oh shit, partial vision that's fun

This entire scene has me gnawing at the bars of my enclosure I'm actually obsessed

Like I said, I used to be a romance writer and still adore writing love stories, I just prefer my fluff with a heaping helping of angst nowadays

Oh please tell me he does

Please

I'm begging

YES

FINALLY

I'm sold, I'm officially sold, I'm gonna scream

Thanks for the tension break Claw, ya bitch -_-

Claw is just me in this situation and I hate it-

Ooo, song time song time!

Yeah yeah Lily used to love Simon and it's sad, where's my song

Lily really said "I can fix him" and did not-

So what I'm hearing is all of this is Lily's fault

Ooo yes yes what does the thing do

Oh? If Lass used the stone to protect herself in a block of ice, my theory about it controlling the water might actually be right

Is it just that it can freeze water? I mean I doubt it but if it is then that's boring :P

Oh no Lily don't do it-

Also I never got my song, I was swindled >:P

Episode Seven

Still got picture in picture

Who let Claw be the captain of this disaster

I mean, I too think a ship isn't proper unless it has a cannon

Ooo, good name Lass I like it

I've been tying ropes this whole time? Damn, can't imagine the kinds of calluses I've got by now

A sword hand attachment, love it

Fletcher got a battle axe, now he's a proper Scotsman-

Oh? What do I get?

Awww, how sweet I got a map

I mean I would've preferred a knife or something but sure, a map will do

Well considering we've seen the future and he's still alive, I don't think you've got much to worry about Lily

Let's go kill a pirate >:3

Okay not kill but rip his eye out at least

Her singing voice really is pretty, I can see why you'd want to follow it to your death

I'd trust Claw with my drink, even if he couldn't hold it-

That's gonna be a fun reunion "Hey wassup, not dead, just been with a siren"

Oh poor Claw XD

I'm so excited for this

The gang's all here!

Aw, dad hug <3

Divide and conquer boys >:3

We love a captain that can give a good rallying speech

The lands within the dead winds is like Bermuda's Triangle. I'm sure there's something there it's just an island but unlike most islands, this one won't eventually become a family wreath instead of a family tree because islands keep getting added to it and bringing fresh blood

Like I'd ever let you go Fletcher, you're stuck with me now

I can practically hear the Pirates of the Caribbean music coming

FIRE!!

Well shit-

Oh? Oh this is gonna be fun

I hate the silence~

Ow, my ears-

Now I'm gonna be blind *and* deaf

Oh?? What's this??

Hi Saku! Didn't expect to see you here!

Spirit of the water?? I was right??

THAT'S WHERE IT ENDS?? ESCAPED YOU CLIFFHANGING ASSHOLE

Episode Eight

As I suspected the picture in picture is fine

I've never been more ready for a finale in my life

So she can control the water, just chooses to make it freeze? Is that what I'm getting? I just really want to be right :P

You can't escape me Simon, I want my eyes back

GET EM CLAW

CHAAAAARGE

Oh please let me fuck Francesca up I'm begging you

You're calling *me* a whore? Seriously?

TAKE THAT YOU BITCH

AHHHHHHH >:3

Oh Simon~ You can't hide forever~

SHE'S NOT A RAMSHACKLE YOU TAKE THAT BACK

Oh shit-

Let me pry the stone out of his undeserving socket

Desmond is really good at this desperate anger and sadness

Bring him back to sanity Lily

Welp, he's just gonna drown

I mean I know he won't but still

Hi Lily, please sort out your psycho boyfriend

Honey, you disgraced yourself a long time ago

Yes, cry for me Simon you deserve it >:3

Am I being cruel? Yes

Do I care? Fuck no, HE ORDERED FOR MY EYES TO BE STABBED OUT

"What will I be?" A blind dude with a lot of enemies? Idfk, you figure it out

Is it over? I mean we're still stuck in the middle of the ocean

So did everything just like...freeze?

I mean she ended the Drift so did everything get like locked in place wherever it is now?

I still don't like Simon, Lily deserves so much better than him

Girl, get yourself a man that didn't literally become the most feared pirate in the world to find you, we call that a stalker

And we're back to the future

The story's been told

What will they do now?

So if Fletcher got the Blood, Lass has the Tears, where does that live the Tears?

Simon turned from a pirate to a music box maker? That's...really sweet

Fletcher and Lass being the power couple of the century

Aww, the promise was to take Lass home!

I'M FUCKING DEAD??

HUH??

WHEN HE TOLD MABEL TO GO TAKE CARE OF HER GRANDMOTHER, HE MEANT MY FUCKIN COFFIN??

OH MY GOD

I hate this

I hate everything about this

Fuck this

Let me go home, Simon

I'm gonna have to go back and read the live chat for this, I'm sure it exploded

Oh my god Fletcher stop it I'm gonna cry

I DIDN'T KNOW THE "HER" IN LEAVE HER, JOHNNY WAS ME

NOT CARMICHAEL'S ASHES

FUCK. THIS.

Escaped what did we do to deserve this

Oh god, not a final speech from Fletcher

I swear to god, if I cry I'm gonna make it everyone's problem

Escaped, genuine question, how hard was it to keep the accent while crying

I need to know

I'm not ready either Fletcher T-T

THIS IS NOT THE ENDING I PAID FOR WITH MY FUN PIRATE JOURNEY

I just wanted to be a pirate-

"I can't do it" I CAN'T EITHER

Fletcher if you don't let go I never will, something's gotta give here

One more song?

Oh fuck you

This is cruel and unusual punishment

Why would you want me to go through this

Soul-crushing ending aside, I really do love this song

Y'all I'm not gonna make it, it physically hurts

Set me free Walter I beg you

OH IT'S OVER

THANK GOD I COULDN'T TAKE MORE

Final Thoughts

As with everything that Escaped creates, this was flawless

Absolute 10000000/10, I couldn't have asked for a better pirate adventure

I'm glad I waited, even if it meant I got bullied in the Discord every time a new episode came out and I was reminded of my vow

I know there's some very exciting things coming down the pipeline (Neon Memorium WHEN) and I can only imagine what you've got in store for us

Matador Gothic is still my favorite though, this is a close second but it's gonna take an act of God to dislodge Alfonso from his spot as best boy I don't know what to tell ya

@escapedaudios I DID THE THING YOU CAN STOP BADGERING ME NOW :P

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, thank you for the work you put into this blog. It might be a bit early, but are there any S2 fix-it recs yet?

Hi! We have a plentiful #fix-it tag now! Here are some more to add...

you're the victim of your crime by JustNerdyThings (T)

It's a simple decision, really. It's simple in the way things rarely are, in that it's not much of a decision at all. Whatever Aziraphale might stand to gain by staying in Heaven, it cannot possibly compare to what he's already lost down on Earth. So Aziraphale leaves. He miracles up his letter of resignation, pretends to clear out his still-empty desk, and leaves. And he hopes against hope that somehow, someday, Crowley might forgive him.

hungry work by CCs_World (E)

“You must understand,” Aziraphale had whispered. He was on the doorstep of the bookshop, months after his departure, looking in at Crowley — disheveled, both of them. Broken, both of them. Afraid, both of them. Hopeful, both of them. “I understand, Aziraphale,” Crowley had said back. They had stretched out a hand to Aziraphale. “Come on. Let’s think of a plan together.” And they had. Somehow, miraculously, ineffably, a second apocalypse had been averted. Heaven and Hell were cut off. They were free — truly free. And they had all the time in the universe. So, naturally, they left London. OR: After the Second Coming does not Come, Crowley and Aziraphale move to the South Downs. However, living together is difficult when there are over 6000 years of tension between them - tension which must be resolved if they are to have their happily ever after.

Trembling with tenderness by HolRose (T)

When the former demon Crowley is surprised in his Mayfair flat by a visit from his erstwhile boss and their ex-Archangel partner asking for assistance, Crowley has that familiar sinking feeling that something he did in the past has come back to bite him on the arse. When the current Supreme Archangel materialises in his flat shortly afterwards, Crowley knows the time has come for them to really talk at last. Just as soon as they’ve got rid of their visitors, that is. A post Season 2 fix-it fic in which they communicate properly, and Aziraphale demonstrates just how crafty, and also loving, he can be. This is one for those who might like something genuinely soft and romantic after the ending to Season 2.

We'll make Heaven a place on Earth by arabellas_court (E)

Aziraphale unfolded the piece of paper slowly beneath the horrid lighting. He cleared his throat and looked around, the corners of his mouth faltering just a second when he landed on Crowley. He looked down at the paper. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth—” “Jesus Christ,” Crowley grumbled. “No, dear, he came later, remember?” ------ Crowley knows his worth. He can't take Aziraphale back immediately after how hurt he's been. And for once, Aziraphale has to work for that forgiveness. Both of them are a mess. Both of them go to therapy—unexpectedly, together. Angst with a happy ending.

Snogging on Heaven's Door by Tetrisbiene (M)

What if Aziraphale actually said, 'Do it again. Please. Right now!'? A Post-Season 2 Fanfic. Aziraphale has to go to Heaven to thwart the Second Coming, and Crowley just can't let him go alone. Follow the pair as they meet old and new faces, go to heavenly meetings, sow mischief, and tempt some angels to fall in love with humanity. May the two find a flat surface to talk things over with each other before this big promotion can tear them apart. This is the story of our ineffable idiots in a roller coaster ride of emotions, heavenly bureaucracy, and stolen kisses against doors. Have some angst, some stupid puns in the chapter titles, and an elevator ride that's basically an excuse for me to write a cheesy alternative ending to help me get over the actual finale.

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you by sunrisesinthesuburbs (T)

Aziraphale stares back at the Metatron with renewed optimism. “I know where my loyalty stands, Sir,” he starts, even managing a small smile. “And I do not need to prove myself to them. When the Time comes, they will enjoy what I’ve been working on.” He sounds convincing, really. Honest, reliable and responsible. Crowley decides this is a good time to whistle: “Someone’s getting all professional up here.” Aziraphale dares to peep in his direction, hoping to convey with one brief look everything he is thinking about: ‘Shut up, will you? I’m trying to do something here.’ Crowley smirks, of course. He really is so annoying. “Well, Aziraphale, you may not need to prove yourself to them,” the Metatron reaches for something inside his jacket, “but you need to prove yourself to me.” Aziraphale fails Heaven's test (of course), and now he has to fix an even bigger mess. Throw a messy break up and a Second Coming in the mix and, somehow, you get a getaway car and a cottage in the South Downs. A lot can happen in a day. (Post Season 2; my very own attempt at fixing things.)

- Mod D

[lair-of-the-white-worm]

I know Abe and Toby are biblical names, but how did Alf get his? Is there an in universe reason? Decided to ask the local lore specialist!

AHHH AN EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT THIS!!! YAYYY!!!

This is genuinley one of my favourite Oddworld facts in the world. So, the true, honest reason why Alf is named Alf is an incredibly wonderful and bittersweet, story. You can read about it here, here and listen to Lorne himself talk about it here. I really can't do the story justice summarizing it.

Also an exceprt from Extreme PlayStation Magazine, Issue 15, p. 8 (March 1999):

If you think you’re Abe’s biggest fan, think again – 72-year-old grandfather Alfred Gamble has you beat hands down. Alf was on the brink of depression after his wife died, until his daughter bought him a PlayStation and a copy of Abe’s Oddysee.

He became so hooked on the game he sent letters to publisher GT Interactive, the developers Oddworld in California and extreme PlayStation outlining how much he liked it. Oddworld’s President Lorne Lanning was so impressed he named a character Alf in the second bonus world of the sequel, Abe’s Exoddus, in honour of Mr Gamble. Alf is also included in the FMV sequence at the end of the game.

Mr Gamble is such an Abe fanatic he’s even had Oddworld’s favourite son tattooed on his arms and made pictures of him to hang on his walls. He still doesn’t look very cheerful, but you can bet he’s happy when he’s playing an Abe game.

-----

That's the true, honest real life reason as to where Alf's name comes from. I never get tired of hearing about it, ever.

Now, the in-universe explanation as to where Alf's name comes from is a bit harder to dig up, as it's only been brought up (to my knowledge at least) in Dear Alf blogposts. Now, it's important to remember that Alf has always been a bit of an unreliable goofball. His character is described frequently as having memory issues from Brew blackouts and also a compulsive liar. But, when it comes to the context of factory Muds and names, Alf remains our only in-universe source, and the explanations he's given are pretty believable, at least in my opinion.

In Dear Alf #6 (March 2001) Alf was asked where factory scrubs get their names. He was specifically asked if Queen Sam names her young, and if the Glukkons bother with their names. Alf clarifies;

"Mudokons name each other. It's a lot less confusing that saying, "Hey, you!" all the time."

So, Alf is basically saying that Mudokons in factories name each other. We can actually somewhat confirm this is the case, as in Soulstorm, it's shown that Mudokons are not identified by names within Industrial environments and instead marked numerically.

While the environment shown above is specifically a testing facility, it is still a strong example of the expemdability and lack of autonomy that Mudokons have in the large factories.

Glukkons and Sligs certainly don't do the naming either. Sligs are usually shown referring to Mudokons with name-calling and abusive terms, so they don't care much. Glukkons, however, are shown to refer to Mudokons by chosen names. My speculation is pretty simple here. It's important to remember that, canonically, in Oddysee and Exoddus, the factories the games take place in are far out of the general public eye.

The horrid oppression the Mudokons in this region of Mudos are experiencing are being covered up by the Magog Cartel (for obvious reasons). As stated by OWI, the Mudokons raised in these factories are kept away from formal education and fed copious amounts of propaganda, so they aren't even aware of their own cultural history, nor are they the wiser to the fact they're slaves. So, to keep up the façade, the Glukkons probably refer to Muds by their chosen names from time to time to maintain the illusion of giving a shit (and the illusion of the Muds having any sort of identity within factory walls).

Sam doesn't get the chance to name her hatchlings much at all. I doubt the Vykkers would let her deliberately, lest she form attachments. It's been stated in the past that Sam has several mental ailments akin to bipolar disorder and depression. Forming stronger attachments to her children would be detrimental, as the more stressed she is the less comfortable she will be, and the less eggs she will lay.

So it's safe to say Ol' Alf is bang on the money with this one;

Mudokons in factories NAME EACH OTHER!

However, this raises another few questions; how do they name each other, and how do they come up with the names?

Luckily for us, Alf answers questions about this as well. What a generous fella.

"Sometimes our momma names us, the rest of the time we kinda name ourselves. I don’t remember ever being told my name, it was just what everybody always called me. Apart from middle management. They always called me “Hey you, do ya stinkin’ job ya bum!” I didn’t like that name. Too wordy."

-Dear Alf 45 [September 2013]

Alf again here clarifies that Mudokons name one another in factory settings, drilling home that this is the truth.

And in another, Dear Alf 70 [September 2014], it's mentioned that Mudokons in factories name one another in a similar vein to people in a workplace or friend group giving each other nicknames. Names are given to Muds based on things like characteristics, whatever stands out about a specific Mudokon becomes their nickname. It makes sense, doesn't it? We have Mud names mentioned in the Oddworld universe like Stoopy and Buddy and Soots. It makes sense that Stoopy was probably a very clumsy Mud, while Buddy was incredibly friendly. Soots was always covered in Soot. Their colleagues and acquaintances just called them these nicknames, and they eventually stuck permanently.

Characters like Toby, my theory is that they named themselves. It's clear that he's moderately/somewhat literate. My guess? He read the word "tube" in one of the Train manuals he nicked, and made that his name. But since he'd never seen or heard of that word before, he thought it was pronounced "Toby"! What a fluke, eh? Sounded good, so he went with it. But that's just my own theory.

But back to Alf, where did Alf get his name? Well, in that same Dear Alf, he seems to remember where his name came from and confesses that when he was being raised in the 1029 nursery;

"...I used to be really lazy. The other kids always got angry at me, saying I was ‘alf-assed. I guess it stuck"

There you go.

Alf's name comes from his old nickname, "Half Assed".

It's an unfortunately cruel nickname, but it's no secret that scrub Muds aren't exactly complete sweethearts to one another, especially raised in that environment. Though I wonder, who was the first person to call Alf "Alf" instead of, you know, Half-Assed?

Just my own personal theory?

I think Abe was the first Mud to call him Alf.

Why? Well, back to Dear Alf 6.. Alf says:

"Abe was the first guy that ever spared a kind word for little ol' me. A little kindness goes a long way when you're a slave, and I know a lot of the guys feel the same way."

[talibunny30]

Echoes of Resilience

Chapter Five - Weight in Gold

Nesta has flashbacks and she finally hunts down her unknowing companion for the rescue mission.

I really enjoyed writing this chapter. It really felt like it was what I had originally envisioned for the story, all wrapped into one chapter. I hope you all enjoy it too!

As always, a ginormous thank you to my two darling beta readers @shadowsandlint & @somnolentsoul. This would not be the same without your insights 🖤✨

Read on AO3 here

Chapter begins after the cut

With the birth of Feyre, Nesta noticed a shift in the Archeron home. No one paid it attention or was foolish enough to mention it outright, but she could tell it was as if all the staff held their breath, waiting to see what it would mean now that the children outnumbered their parents.

Nesta was her mother’s to make and wield as she saw fit. Elain was her father’s to spoil. Whose would Feyre be?

Nesta had celebrated her fifth name day the Spring after Feyre’s arrival, and it was then that everything started to change. For one, it was the first time Nesta did not have their mother breathing down her neck in a public setting. She was still recovering from the fright that was Feyre making her way into the world.

This was also the longest it took for their mother to return from the birthing chamber and resume her duties as Lady of the house, or that’s what she heard whispered in the halls as she made her way to her dancing lesson that day. Nesta never thought it possible, but she wished for her mother’s presence at her lessons once again, only if that meant for her grandmother to have someone else to focus her attention on.

“One and two, and one and two. Chin up. Graceful face. No, that is horrid. Nesta, no. Stop, just stop. Useless girl.”

“I apologise, grandmother. I will keep trying.”

“Trying is failing. There is only doing or not doing. What has your mother been teaching you to allow such petty use of words? Trying is not allowed. It is shameful to even suggest that you are not naturally gifted at something. No one need know that you are not. It is only what you show them that they will believe. You will practice in your time between engagements to prove that you have not wasted my efforts in raising you.”

“Thank you, grandmother, for the lesson. I will not let you down.”

“No, you will not.”

Releasing a breath she had not realised she was holding, Nesta curtsied and made her way to the exit of the ballroom. As the tension began to release from Nesta’s shoulders, her grandmother’s voice crept through the room.

“Oh, Nesta, one more thing.”

Nesta could not help it as her heart rate picked up. She turned fully towards her grandmother once again and was faced with a distasteful sight of upturned lips creasing too-loose skin.

“Present your hands.”

Silently making her way back to do as instructed, Nesta began to tremble, knowing what awaited her from the mahogany cane so lovingly held in her grandmother’s hand.

~-~-~-~

The news was delivered to her father just as Nesta sat at the formal dining table, the last to arrive after her needlework lesson, which left her already aching hands feeling stiff and sensitive. Her mother was still notably absent. It was not odd to see letters interrupting what was meant to be a quiet family mealtime. More often than not, the Prince of Merchants would have to excuse himself early, much to her mother’s disdain, in order to see to some all-important this or time-sensitive that. Nesta supposed she would one day understand what it was that her father filled his time with. It must be very special indeed if it meant he had none to spare for her.

While reading the latest missive received, her father stood from his seat at the table and motioned for his footman to fetch his coat. With a wring of his hands, he announced his departure.

“My darlings, I must be off. Be on your best behaviour for your governess. I should not like to hear of any folly while Augusta is resting, and Feyre is growing. Be kind to one another, Nesta.” The only sound in the deafening silence was Elain’s nonsensical mumbling of half-formed words.

Nesta ignored the small hurt, nagging her for attention, felt by her father leaving just as she had arrived. Summoning a courage she knew not to feel, Nesta surged from her seat, her words tumbling over themselves.

“Father, where is it you are going? Perhaps you could make room for me on your travels?”

The rare showing of Nesta’s child-like hope seemed to catch her father off guard. So much so that he paused, contemplating his next words. With a frown and a shake of his head, he lowered himself to Nesta’s height, took her hands, and ended the conversation.

“This world is not suitable for the delicate sensibilities of a young Lady such as yourself, my dear. Do not fret, I will return soon. In the meantime, you have your daily lessons, and your grandmother is here in our stead.”

Nesta nodded in way of her reply and watched as her father left her alone in the very house he was lucky to escape. She could not help the small piece of her heart that hardened towards him. He must know what it was like to be under her grandmother’s singular focus. Perhaps, he believed that was the only way for Nesta to become worthy of his time.

~-~-~-~

For all she could manage, Nesta stood statuesque in the light of the moon, as she waited for the mercenary. The urge to tap her foot or cross her arms, anything to relieve the growing tension in her bones, took all her iron will to stave off. The singular focus of saving Feyre seemed to keep the many other matters that swirled around her mind at bay. This first, those later.

The journey to the wall was a long one, and served the time she would need to diligently pay attention to, and invent solutions for, all that needed resolving once she made it back to the manor house. First on that list was the sham of a betrothal her father had schemed.

“This world is not suitable for the delicate sensibilities of a young Lady -” No. This world was not ready for all that Nesta would become to protect Feyre. If not Nesta, then who? Everyone else thought Feyre was off taking care of an ill aunt who did not exist. Feyre’s only hope of escaping the clutches of that thing was Nesta. She couldn’t help but pity Feyre in that moment. Her only means of rescue was her eldest sister on some ill-gotten escapade. “What a useless endeavour indeed,” Nesta thought.

Shuffling steps brought Nesta out of the web of thoughts she found herself failing to control once again.

“I can’t imagine the kind of idiot you must be to seek me out so publicly. Let’s hear it then. What make of man am I to rescue you from?” The mercenary smirked as she leaned against the wall of what was once a worship hall centuries ago.

“Excuse me? I am not here to be rescued. Nor do I appreciate your insinuation that I could not handle a matter of that kind on my own.” Nesta made sure to look down her nose at this common sell-sword. What abysmal manners she had.

“Fine, if you are so brave, princess, you don’t need my help. Be seein’ ya.” With a mock bow, the mercenary turned to leave.

“Wait! Boudica, just wait a moment.”

Boudica the Brave. Nesta had hoped that the mercenary’s name only meant she was true of heart. But, as life had taught her long ago, that only existed in the tales told at bedtime to children loved by their parents.

Struggling to pinpoint where she lost the upper hand, Nesta found that honesty was her best bet at getting this peculiar individual to comply.

“First, I want to make it abundantly clear that I do not care for what the people of this village think. Let them draw their conclusions as to why I approached you. I realise now that I caused quite the scene at The Well but having spent most of today unsuccessful in my endeavours, I had grown wearisome in my search.”

Boudica, seemingly bored with this exchange, made to leave again.

“Second,” Nesta scrambled, following after her. “Second, I am no princess. I am Lady Nesta Archeron. I seek the services for which I believe you are renowned.”

Turning to face her, Boudica wriggled her eyebrows suggestively. Nesta scoffed and continued, “Not those services, mind you.”

The more Nesta thought about it, maybe this mercenary had more uses… “Not now. Focus.” She had to get her mind in order for this to appear well thought out.

“You will accompany me to the Wall. Your sole purpose will be maintaining my well-being along the way. I will not disclose my business once I reach it, and I do not expect you to continue on past our destination.” Nesta willed her breathing to remain steady as she waited for a response.

Studying her fingernails with practised ease, Boudica contemplated the proposition.

“What’s in this for me? Do you even know what kind of creatures lurk in the forests lining this village, let alone those that congregate closer to the Wall? There is no hope for survival for the likes of you.” Boudica looked her up and down before adding, “My Lady,” with a look on her face that could only be interpreted as disbelief; as if she truly thought Nesta insane.

Nesta folded her arms gracefully over her chest, allowing herself a moment to consider her next move in this game of wills. This plan had not followed an easy path since she hatched it. It seemed it was running away from her control once again. The only way Nesta knew to regain control was to get this brute on her back foot.

“Though I am not surprised you only care for what you may gain from this venture, I must say that I am disappointed in your quick judgement of me. You do not know me, yet you base your opinions solely on how I chose to present myself to you today. Has the thought not crossed your simple mind that I may not have wished to draw attention to that which I do or do not have any knowledge?” Nesta arched her brow as Boudica opened and closed her mouth, clearly shocked at the gall of this strange woman.

“You have no idea who you have stumbled into a war of words with,” Nesta thought gleefully.

“I will do you the mercy of getting to the point, as I can almost hear your mind working to conjure a witty retort. Simply put, so as you might understand it, your reward will be worth it. The Lord Archeron would pay handsomely to have his youngest daughter returned to him.”

Nesta inwardly cringed at both the blatant lie and having revealed the true reason for the venture. Her father was a fool, but a rich fool at least. He would not notice if a portion of the funds provided to them by mysterious means grew legs and walked into the pockets of this mercenary.

How could she have been so foolish to show her hand already? “You are not world-wise, only practised in the necessary means to secure a husband. You appear intelligent for the Archeron name only. Make no mistake Nesta, you are only what we have made you.” It was as if these thoughts loitered, awaiting the perfect moment to strike her when she least expected.

This was not the time to question her failure to compartmentalise her thoughts, so she straightened her spine and folded her hands demurely in front of her as she concluded her bid for Boudica’s favour.

“Since you now know what it is I wish to accomplish, the terms of this arrangement are as such: We will leave at dawn’s first light. You will provide the provisions required for the journey, as I am but a simple Lady, I would not know the means required for such travel. You will keep me from all harm, and, once we make it to the Wall, you will wait until sunset on the third day as that is when I will arrive with my sister. For all these things, I offer you my weight in gold upon our safe return to our manor home.”

Thankful that the last eight days out of poverty proved to hide her slight frame under the layers of her dress, Nesta waited. If this mercenary, this boorish woman named Boudica, did not agree, Nesta did not know what she would do.

Without any warning, Boudica turned and began walking away. Nesta let her defeat show, resting her head on her chest and curling her shoulders in on herself.

But with the nonchalance of Boudica’s next words, Nesta felt a shift in the world. As if this moment changed the woeful trajectory her life had previously been following; now to have branched off in another direction entirely.

Glancing over her shoulder she asked Nesta, “You coming?”

~-~-~-~

There is so much more of this story that I have to tell. I know that it is not particularly canon-compliant how Nesta is retelling her memories in my story, but I think it does still fit with how we know Nesta outwardly portrays herself and how she inwardly berates herself. I want it to almost be seeing the truth to the stories we have already been told in canon... Or ones that were skipped over entirely.

I know this is not going to be everyone's cup of tea, but I am thoroughly enjoying myself writing this and exploring and learning how to truly put it on paper to tell a story that is complete in my mind.

**Special thanks go out to my husband who has now not only lost me to reading fanfic but writing it too. You are darling, @a-novel-idealist 🖤✨**

Let me know what you think of this chapter, I honestly am still blown away by the fact that anyone is reading this and even more so that you are leaving comments and highlighting bits of what I have written... *insert mind-blown emoji*

~-~-~-~

Echoes of Resilience taglist

@christeareads

@shadowsandlint

@achaotichuman

@c-starstuff-man0

@dawneternal

@jules-writes-stories

@the-darkestminds

@chunkypossum

@secret-third-thing

Let me know if you want on or off the taglist :))

[gallantfairy]

*/ Canon divergence.

Erza does not own Nakagami Armor, Ataraxia armor, Rabbit armor, Celestial armor, seduction armor or any explicit / sexual / filler outfits. She does not own over a hundred armors ( because canonly is actually a thing ) and she does not own over 200 hundred weapons. Instead she owns approximately 100 weapons and definitely a variety of armors.

While her fight against Kagura resulted in a draw, eventually she lost to Minerva. ( during the Grand Magic Games )

Speaking of Kagura, there's no ' big sister / little sister ' relationship between them. Instead, there's mutual respect.

Her fight against Jerome from Avatar was different. She did not defeat him with Ataraxia armor ( since in this blog, she does not possess it ) but rather, she overwhelmed him with the Heaven's wheen armor abilities and that's how she obtained victory. ( note: credit for this one goes to Fae! )

Erza's fight against Kyoka was different from canon. She did not beat Kyoka because ' she is erza!!!!! ', instead she had the assistance of Mira and Minerva in order to bring her down.

During her fight against Ajeel, she did not defeat him with her Nakagami armor; instead she used her wind god armor and had Bisca's assistance with the jupiter cannon.

She does not possess romantic feelings towards Jellal. She values him that's for sure, like a good friend, since both of them had suffered a lot during their childhood years. She does not excuse his past actions but she is always here for him when he needs her, to help him become better.

Which it comes to the conclusion that the ' ~ i have a fiancee ~ ' scene, did not take place.

During her fight with Irene, Erza did not fucking charged against a fucking comet and sliced it in half. Instead, she was able to evade with Wendy to secure their safety. Besides she needed healing because of the horrid condition of her physical state.

Speaking of Irene, she is not Erza's mother. A headcanon providing more information can be found here. ( X )

Her appearance is quite different from canon. Erza is tall, precisely 6ft / 1.82 cm tall, she has quite a muscular physique, she definitely has abs and lots of freckles. A more detailed headcanon could be seen here ( X )

She does not wield gravity magic.

Because nothing makes more sense during a fight than giving power of friendship speeches or patronizing your opponents. Obviously in this blog, that's not the case. You can find more about this rant here ( X )

Her victory against Azuma in the Tenrou Island differs from canon. Instead of using the spirits of her friends as a boost ( aka nakama power ), she defeated him with her swordsmanship skills, using techniques that are considerably last resort ones.

Erza's fight against her counterpart, Erza Knightwalker resulted in a draw.

When she is under the influence of alcohol, she will never act like a sexually frustrated drunk ( only rarely ). Instead, you would catch her sleeping in a corner in order to cast away the dizziness.

Her handwriting is indeed bad, but not unreadable to the point of considering a handwritten letter from her being taken as a threat. She is fully aware that it's not great and there will be times where you would catch her having somebody helping her improve it. ( most likely somebody from the Guild who excels in the aspect of calligraphy ) Thus, all the moments that include her writing illegible letters do not apply in this blog.

She will never use her body parts in order to seduce anyone. ( hence the sexual armors in canon ) Take that shit away.

The existence of the movies and of course the FT100YQ will not be acknowledged in this blog. ( including new armors, her performing grand chariot, new techniques etc. )

[sonicasura]

How Not To Camp 101

Kafka couldn't help but let out a sigh as he starred down at Trainer's sickly form. The duo was on a camping in the Tokyo mountains, something that Trainer suggested the 2 of them could do as a fun thing to introduce more of Tokyo to Trainer. Kafka was so exicited for this trip he had everything planned out to the letter. It all started off fine the drive up the mountain was no problem, and when they got to the campsite they both immediately began setting up camp. This is however when Kafka began noticing something, Trainer began coughing a bit to frequently, but Kafka didn't do anything because Trainer hadn't acknowledged the cough as anything to worry about. The cough wasn't the only problem while fishing Trainer began to sneeze, when they made lunch Trainer had trouble lifting up some of the cooking equipment. Kafka began too speak up asking if Trainer was feeling alright, but Trainer simply waved it off as them being a bit tired is all. The final straw however is when the duo went hikeing at sunset to go stargazing at the mountain tops, Trainer was lagging behind Kafka and despite Trainer's reassurance that they were ok, Kafka's worry only grew until Trainer tripped a stray root and was too weak to get back up. This sent Kafka into a worried panic as they went over to check-up on Trainer. Taking Trainer's temperature showed that they were much warmer than normal and told Kafka that they had caught a cold and a nasty one at that. Kafka heaved Trainer onto there back all while they repeatedly said sorry over and over. Kafka calmly soothed them about Trainer not needing to feel sorry about getting sick and it happens too everybody. When they went out hikeing the sun was already setting and when they got back to the campsite, night had long since fallen. Kafka would have driven Trainer back home but it wasn't safe to drive the mountain roads at night. Kafka came to the decision that since the cold didn't warrant a hospital visit that he would watch over Trainer for the night and leave immediately at the first sight of dawn. Thankfully Kafka came prepared with a whole medical kit and various medicines, and promtely gave Trainer various syrups for coughs, stuffy noses, and to help Trainer sleep better. By the end of it Trainer was in there sleeping bag with a cold rag over there heads as Kafka could do nothing but listen to there breathes which struggled a bit.

* Thoughts*

Kafka: Damnit why them? Why do they have to be sick and suffer? This was supposed to fun camping trip, now there sick and in a restless sleep and I can't do anything about it!!!

Ai: Well we provide-

Kafka: We are not transforming and acting as full sized cushion for them to snuggle aganist Ai.

Ai: * Hisses* Why!? It would help keep them warm and cormfortable!!!

Kafka: Ai we had this-

* CCCCRRRAASSSSSHHH*

A horrid crashing noise echoed out throught the forest immediately causing Kafka and Ai to stand at guard. It didn't take long for Kafka to spot the one behind the noise. A Kaiju that rivaled skyscraper stood in the forest, trampling through the trees and heading right for the duo. It was at this point Kafka felt something begining to boil inside him, like a furnace being given coal, the intense feeling kept on rising.

Ai: This pathetic excuse of a Kaiju dares attack us and endanger our welp!!! Kill that bastard Kafka, kill that bastard!!!

Kafka felt the burning semsation in his chest rise more and more like a fire that kept getting fed the most flamable material, not helped by Ai and his chatter.

If there was any hope of this flame dying down, it died when the labored cough of Trainer reached his ears

All the forces of Hell were then unleashed

Ai: KILL THAT KAIJU NOW KAFKA!!!!

Kafka felt his body rapidly morph and mold itself

His body size increased tenfold his scales hardening matching that of a Tyranitar, muscles wrapping themselves in the strengthing wires to mimic Grimmsnarl's hair, mouth like hands that reseambled that of a Hydreigon, a gaping maw in the vein of a Tyrantrum, a long tail and wings that burned like a Gigantimax Charizard, another set of arms that modeled themselves after the 2 large claws of a Golisopod, and vents around there neck which gave of a burning blue flame like a Typholsion.

At the end of the transformation Kafka looked like the most badass Kaiju to ever walk the earth. The Kaiju which looked like and Angler Fish and Mantis that was bidpedal noticed Kafka and immediately went on the offensive to kill him right then and there. Kafka would have none of that and as soon as the Kaiju got in close too bite Kafka sent his too extra arms out, impaling the Kaiju's arms, stopping the Kaiju's attack completely.

Kafka then had both of his mouth-hands clamp down on the Kaiju's arms before Kafka started ripping the monsters arms off. With little to no effort the Kaiju had both of it's arms ripped off, but not showing any care for it's lost limbs the Kaiju then went into bite Kafka, where it was once again stopped this time by all four arms and held in place as Kafka's maw grew wide and the vents around it's neck began to flare with scroching heat. Aiming directly towards the Kaiju face Kafka let out a heavy blast of pure flames that burned the head to a crisp before the Kaiju could so much as let out a pained roar. It completely annhilate the Kaiju, Kafka lufted the beast above his mouth and fully opened his powerful maw and crushed the Kaiju fully between his teeth destroying the Kaiju's core.

It took Kafka a couple minutes to come too, and when he eventually did the first question he asked was why did he feel taller? The answer he himself had grown too a size of a skyscraper to kill the Kaiju, that would explain why he felt so tired now. At this point Kafka just followed his instincts and at Ai's guidance shrunk down back to human size and went to go nap next to Trainer, not knowing that he was still in his Kaiju form and purring like a content cat that just caught a mouse.

Unkown to Kafka a done had flown in too see 2 gigantic Kaiju fighting and the transformation back to No.8's regular form

I LOVE THIS.

Common consensus for everyone who saw the footage: WHAT IN THE ABSOLUTE FUCK. It definitely results in an emergency meeting afterwards. Our dear Trainer has garner a lot of attention especially with No.8 being connected to them.

That definitely sums up how Riot No.8 would look like upon borrowing traits of other Pokemon. I also love he used augmentations from the more dangerous and aggressive species like Hydreigon/Tyranitar. Those would be Ai's choice in my personal opinion.

Mina being conflicted as all hell upon seeing No.8 nestled against Trainer after that ferocious display. Even moreso once she notices they're sick. Soshiro has to remind her the kaiju clearly adopted the problem child if he was this hostile to the obvious threat.