#happy new years my fellow hats!

[canonicallysoulmates]

Another year has come and gone, and y’all know what that means, it’s time to look back at some of the j2 moments 2022 has given us. 

We start the year with the boys excited at the opportunity to work together again, with Jensen set to join Jared on the Walker set to direct an episode! When asked about it during Dallascon in February Jared said that he couldn’t wait, and that the most exciting part for him was going to be getting to introduce a lot of the cast and crew to one of the people who helped him grow up and helped him learn how to do what he does, and that he would be showing Jensen off on set. And show him off he did! But let's not get ahead of ourselves...

March and April were packed with j2 goodies from the Walker set!

We got the boys in matching shirts ❤️:

Some social media husbandness:

"You can direct me any time" We know, Jared. We know 😏

The cute fun of Jared getting Jensen a different chair back for each day he was there directing:

When asked what it had been like to work together again the boys were sweet and sentimental answering, that it was like they never stopped.

And Jensen saying about his shorthand with Jared that: "There’s nobody else I can do that with. He and I have that, and we’ll always have that. That’s not something that fades away."

Y'all know I'm not gonna forget to mention that Jared gave the cast and crew a whole speech, on Jensen's birthday, telling them about how important Jensen has been in his life! 💕 

March also gave us not one but two public date nights! One to a UFC fight:

And the second when Jensen took Jared to The Boys EW party!

Before we continue I feel like I'd be remiss to not take a second to mention that April ended on a scare because Jared did have a bad car accident which we found out about through Jensen, who is the person Jared gave permission to reveal the news. So, let's take a second to be thankful for our boy's health and well being🙏

Continuing on to happier things, and the rest of the year....

We got matching husbands at the CW Upfronts:

So handsome 😍

We love a supportive hubby:

In Jared’s third appearance on Rosenbaum's podcast he gushed about Jensen saying the most beautiful stuff like:

About introducing Jensen to the Walker cast and crew:

Making it clear that he loves and belives in Jensen:

And these are just snippets, this man gushed about Jensen several times, and for like 5mins and he would have done it for longer if Rosenbaum hadn't stopped him.

During the gold panel of Orlcon Jared was struggling with the heat so Jensen got him a fan for the main panel:

He's always taking care of his boy 🥰

He also had some lovely things to say about Jared producing his own show post-spn, saying that he doesn’t know many people in their profession personally that is more well equipped than Jared to do that job and he’s doing it now with grace and dignity and talent and success.

During Torcon Jared was all emotional, and he even cried, and at one point somebody in the crowd shouted at Jared to not start crying again so Jensen jumped to his defense saying he could cry if he wanted to.

Because of work Jared was not able to join Jensen at JIB but distance is not gonna stop these two and we still got some lovely moments like how Jared described Jensen: Jensen’s loyal, strong, and kind like a lab. He’s not as boisterous but he’s down for anything and he can do anything. He’s always up to work hard, he’s a loyal friend, a loyal family member. So he’d be like a lab you can count on him, he’s always gonna be there for you. 💕

And Jensen saying that Jared completes him 💞

Which he tries to play off and acts all bashful about yet a minute earlier he was talking about Jared's farts saying how he doesn't miss them and then going “maybe a little bit”. Its been months and I still haven't been able to process this because do you know how much you have to love someone to miss their farts? This is both cute and gross.

September gave us date night!

x

There was this soft moment during Kansascon:

Jensen shared that he has told the story of how he and Jared met on the Big Sky set 🥺

This is not really a hat thing but I'm really proud of them for this so I'm taking a second to include it, they got honored by the former mayor of Lawrence, Kansas! They were presented with a proclamation that Lawrence, Kansas is the official hometown of Sam and Dean Winchester, and they even got license plates with Jared’s saying Lil Bro and Jensen’s saying Baby.

Jared got sick with covid, again, so he was not able to attend Vancon but Jensen was thinking of his boy 😭:

During Phoenixcon we got a glimpse as to how they handle their currently long distance relationship with the boys answer basically boiling down to them being used to having to be away from loved ones and having to go long stretches without seeing someone they hold so dear but when they are together they are present in the moment.

We end the year with flirting, heart eyes, fondness, the boys making each other laugh and this:

Btw, this was Jared's reaction to a fan saying that men who choose Ryan Gosling - which Jensen did - tend to be more romantic.

We also got the reminder that Jared and Jensen share underwear😏

And that my friends are some of the j2 moments 2022 gave us!

Much like years prior, I hope this post acts as a little beacon of positivity and a reminder of the love that these two men continue to share. May 2023 gift us with even more wonderful moments💌

Happy New Years! 🥂

[yuri-puppies]

L'shana tova to all my fellow dunmeshi jews!

disclaimer: chilchuck is not canonically jewish nor particularly jewish-inspired; i’m just calling dibs lol

[ID begins. Manga panel of a cheerful Chilchuck Tims, wearing a black vest and a hat reminiscent of a kippah. His speech bubbles have been edited to say "Chag sameach! Shana tova umetukah" in Hebrew script. A realistic plate of apple and honey has been edited in front of him. Superimposed all-caps pink glittery script reads: JEWISH CHILCHUCK WISHES YOU A SWEET AND HAPPY NEW YEAR. end ID]

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[azaharinflames]

Well, hello my fellow and beloved BuckTommies. I come here with a new theory - not quite or what will happen, but on what did.

Let me put my tin hat firmly on my head for a second, alright? Because we have been talking about all kinds of possibilities, and have theorized about BTS, and even budget cuts, but.

We are all missing one thing.

What happened during the summer that has repercussions in the series right now? Or that will have in the immediate future, but we’re only seeing the start of...?

An ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’ reboot was officially announced.

It is set to be filmed in Australia come the New Year. And JLH, famously having been in the first one, is going to Australia to film for this one as well. 

This means that, just like they did in Season 5, they will have to take JLH’s absence and other compromises into consideration. In Season 5 she was on maternity leave, this time around she has a movie to shoot. And it just hit me that it might be the reason why things got moved around, and why perhaps they did what they did with BuckTommy.

(Disclaimer: I am not putting this on JLH, and I don’t want anyone to do it either. If this is something that clashed with the initial plan, what the writers and Tim came up with it’s on them, never Jennifer)

We know Tim is not someone who writes his stuff in advance. He’s flying by the seat of his pants; he writes as he goes, and this is something he has said before. So now he has to write and plan in advance because Jennifer will be somewhat absent. The direct result of this is, in my opinion, Madney.

The storyline of them having a second child at home, having her go back to her family, having Jee notice her absence, and then starting to debate on whether to have a second kid… had the potential to be more than one episode. Or, at the very least, to end the episode with them deciding that, yeah, they want to try, they want to expand their family. Maddie’s mentality on PPD could’ve been an episode in itself (Lord knows we don’t get enough Maddie episodes, especially lately), instead of a throwaway line on how she doesn’t want PPD to define her. I do think it’s amazing she’s at that point in her life and on her journey, but I can’t help but think this could’ve also been a really nice episode arc to have. Chimney’s doubts were also gone pretty quickly, with not even needing to talk to anyone about it. All in all - the storyline felt rushed and a bit anticlimactic. And at this point, I can only imagine they will somehow try to create some drama surrounding the pregnancy in 808 (807 perhaps, but it feels like it’s busy enough) so that Jennifer’s absence is justified. We don’t know if, just like in Season 5, Kenny will also be absent (Chim going with Maddie wherever she goes, I don’t know). People weren’t happy with him having to be off the show in Season 5, so I hope he stays, but we don’t know just yet. 

A side result of this could’ve also been BuckTommy. If there is something I’ve gathered from Oliver and Lou’s interviews is that both were a bit surprised it happened this soon. Now, we don’t know if this means they were breaking up for good later on in the season, if this was supposed to be a longer arc, or if they knew there were talks of break-up-make-up, once they were more established. As it is, this happened now.

And in my mind there are two possible theories. Let me present first why I have them:

-They need some substantial drama to go on for 8b. Bathena went through it in S7 and now are rebuilding their life, so it would be a bit of an overkill to have them go through it in S8 as well. Eddie is going through his own stuff and is going on a journey of discovering and enjoying himself (that, personally, I hope deals with actually dealing with it and having deep conversations with Chris). Hen and Karen have just gone over the drama of the adoption and, to be honest, they need a breather. Give them SLs that don’t involve them somewhat losing their kids (be it adoption, or an accident). 

-So… that leaves Buck. Buck, whom we all joked was the only one doing fine in Season 7. Whom we all said was going to go through it in Season 8 to compensate for his happiness in 7. Well. The joke’s on us. He’s had such a drama-free period of his life (yes, affected by what was happening around him, but not directly involved in it) that I think we forgot they enjoy making him suffer. We barely saw a thing with Gerard, and nothing to last the whole season, so… now this. 

So. From this, I see two options:

-They always knew they wanted to have BT have issues, that they didn’t want them to be easy or smooth-sailing, because has a couple in this show been that? No, right? So why would they? So they wanted a break-up arc, potentially ending in making up. Perhaps things moved around a little bit, we don’t know. But maybe they want 8b to deal with Buck trying to see what Tommy meant, yet realizing he still wants Tommy, thus starting the make-up arc. Meaning, they decided to have BT bear the weight of the heavy drama of this second half. People are already invested, clearly, and with JLH gone for a bit, they need people interested in what will happen next.

-Sort of the same, but different results - they just want Buck dating around and having drama with that. Admittedly weaker than the other option, but it is one I don’t necessarily eliminate just yet. Mostly because I’ve learned to be skeptical of 911’s intentions. 

Previous to 806, I fully expected 8b to have more Buck/BT, Madney stories as A plot, as they haven’t had one in 8A. But now that I think about it all, I can’t help but wonder if those last minutes decisions were to accomodate what will happen, just like it happened in Season 5 (which, I will remind you, dealt with her absence by having a lot more of Taylor than we were expecting. Her appearances went down quite a bit once JLH and Kenny were back, and shortly after, she was gone).

Again, I am aware I might be delulu right now. But for the first time in days, something has fully made sense to me. In conclusion:

[gennemi]

𝑵𝒆𝒘 𝒀𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔 (𝑶𝒏𝒆 𝑷𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒏 𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔)

A/N: Happy New Year's to all my lovely followers! I hope you all had a safe and lovely New Year's, I love you all! ✨🖤 and thank you to my friend for helping me make this happen! 🖤✨

Includes: Dracule Mihawk, Monkey D. Luffy, Roronoa Zoro, Sanji Vinsmoke, Buggy the Clown, Red-Haired Shanks, Trafalgar D. Water Law, and Portgas D. Ace

Warnings: Pure Fluff, mentions of Alcohol, kissing, just pure fluff, non binary reader.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

𝑫𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒆 𝑴𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒘𝒌:

Mihawk and his lover are just spending New Year's just the both of them, sipping on his favorite vintage wine, having light conversation, and cooking New Years dinner together, and even making little snacks, to snack on. The two of them were making small conversation about how this year went. 

Spending time together is all the two wanted to start the new year, no one else but them. It was basically an hour before midnight. So right now the two were currently dancing around the large living room of their castle that they called home. The two lovers didn’t need music to dance. 

He looked at the clock, it read a minute before midnight. He pulled her close to him, looking into her eyes with his hawk-like eyes. As he continued to hold them close to him, spinning them around softly, he looked back at the clock, and saw it had hit midnight.

“Happy New Year Darling, here's to another amazing year with you.”

He spoke softly, as he pulled them in to give them a New Years Kiss.

𝑴𝒐𝒏𝒌𝒆𝒚 𝑫. 𝑳𝒖𝒇𝒇𝒚:

“Happy New Year Y/N!” the straw hat captain grinned. The straw hats, with the help of Franky and Nami keeping up with time, had planned a big feast to celebrate the beginning of a New Year. Smiling warmly at their  captain trying to steal food while Usopp and Nami valiantly defending the food. Zoro was already sipping on his booze, Robin was relaxing while using her devil fruit ability to help bring food to the table. 

After the big feast, it was about a few minutes before midnight, the two went to another part of the Thousand Sunny, to spend alone time together. They had a small conversation together. Her giggling at Luffy being his usual silly self, he loved hearing them laugh. And seeing their smile.

Soon the fireworks went off, the fireworks being Nami’s idea, so they had bought the fireworks to shoot off “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” They heard their fellow crewmates shout. He poked them on the shoulder, she looked at him.

“Happy New Year!” 

He cheered out, happily as he pulled them close, giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒂 𝒁𝒐𝒓𝒐:

For New Years he wanted to spend time with them just the two of them. Up in the crows nest of the Thousand Sunny with a bottle of sake. And a plate of food for them to eat, while their crew members partied down below, he was planning something a little special, as soon as the fireworks went off (Which were Nami’s idea)

The two were sharing a bottle of sake, while talking. All cuddled up together in the crows nest. The two were cracking jokes about the things that had happened during this year, and hoping to make fond memories for every year to come. They don’t even know the time currently. Too busy wrapped up in each other's embrace.

The fireworks then suddenly went off with their fellow crewmates yelling “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” from below them, he looked over at her softly grabbing their face, to have them look at him.

“Happy New Year babe, here’s to the new year. And plenty more to go.”

He spoke, as his lips pressed against hers. Giving them a New Years Kiss.

𝑺𝒂𝒏𝒋𝒊 𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒌𝒆:

The straw hat crew was hosting a New Year party/feast on the Thousand Sunny. Sanji and his beloved were drinking some wine together, while eating the food that Sanji prepared with their help. The couple were happy to go into the new year together. As the crew laughed, and conversated about how this year went. All the memories they made.

Sanji and his beloved were conversing about the good, bad, and funny memories they made together. As they snuggled up together, waiting on Franky and Nami to shoot off the fireworks. To go into the new year.

Soon the fireworks went off, he looked over at them pulling them close to him, putting a hand softly on their cheek. 

“Happy New Year my beloved, here's to many more with you~”

He spoke, as he leaned in and softly gave them a New Years Kiss.

𝑩𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒏:

There was a party being hosted by Buggy himself on The Big Top. It was a New Years party to celebrate going into the new year, with plenty of sake and food to go around, it was a whole feast. In their own corner was Buggy and Y/N spending time with each other, eating food and drinking sake together. 

They had planned to shoot off fireworks, as soon as it was midnight. And Buggy also had something planned to go into the new year with his lover. He felt happy to celebrate new years with them, he couldn’t wait until it hit midnight.

Soon the sound of fireworks in the sky surrounded the area, they looked up at the fireworks in awe as the crew yelled out “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” as they cheered and hollered, Buggy pulled them close to him, causing them to look at him.

“Happy New Year Doll~”

He cooed softly, as he pulled them in for a New Years Kiss.

𝑹𝒆𝒅-𝑯𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒔:

The crew was of course celebrating New Year with a party, with of course alcohol being involved. Shanks had his love sitting on his lap, him being the clingy partner that he is. Wanted them close to him, as the two drank on the rum. And ate on the food that was served.

They had managed to buy fireworks for this occasion, as his love wanted fireworks. And him being the amazing lover that he is. Made sure that happened. The one keeping up with the time was Lucky Roux, he let everyone know it was almost time for it.

The time went by fast as the fireworks now went off, shooting up into the sky with different, beautiful but vibrant colors, he pulled them close to him, to get their attention. They looked at him.

“Happy New Year Love, to many more with you.”

He pulled them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒍𝒈𝒂𝒓 𝑫. 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑳𝒂𝒘:

The Heart Pirates were celebrating new years on the Polar Tang, with food and snacks, and drinks to choose from, it was just a small celebration amongst the crew. Law and his lover were hanging out on the deck, just them wanting to spend alone time together. He had a watch on his wrist so he could tell when it's midnight.

He wanted to do something special for them as soon as midnight hit, he was listened to them rant about the memories good, bad,and silly that they made this year, and hoping to make the same memories with him during the new year.

He looked at his watch, noticing it was now midnight. He looked over at them, touching their face gently, causing them to look at him, he leaned in close to them.

“Happy New Year Doll.”

He whispered softly, bringing them into a New Years Kiss.

𝑷𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒈𝒂𝒔 𝑫. 𝑨𝒄𝒆:

The two were strolling down the busy street hand in hand, they wanted to come to the New Years Festival with him, and how could he say no to his lover. The two were sharing a candied apple. Looking at all the stalls open, the smells of different foods wafting in the air.

When it was almost time for the fireworks to go off, the two went to the outskirts of the town, and sat down on a small hill, where they are still able to see the fireworks go off. They were joking around, and talking to pass the time.

Soon the fireworks went off as they heard cheers from the festival below, the two looked at each other, this was his chance, he put one of his hands softly on their cheek rubbing it softly.

“Happy New Year My Flame!”

He cheerfully said, as he gave them a kiss, a New Years Kiss.

[iridescentxstars]

Hi hi, I'm excited to see what you do this kinktober. Looking to support a fellow dark and feral writer. So, if you may, my request are:

San, Fear Play & Size Difference

You go to a party with your friends on Halloween and spot a handsome guy, walking around, shirtless, covered in fake blood with a mask on. Little did you know that it isn't quite a costume…

Hopefully this sparks you, but more importantly, you have fun!

killer!san x fem!reader || prompt: you go to a party with your friends on halloween and spot a handsome guy, walking around, shirtless, covered in fake blood with a mask on. little did you know that it isn't a costume... || kinks: fear play, size difference, primal play, dirty talk || warnings: reader is short, predator/prey dynamics, not cnc but very borderline || wc: 1.4k

please remember this is all fictional. this work is NSFW and contains SMUT, if you are under 18+ DO NOT INTERACT

You had seen him the moment that he walked into the room, tall body somehow easily making its way from one side of the room to wherever he wanted to be. You didn’t know who he was but his presence definitely got a few people chatting at the party because his outfit has definitely become a quick favourite. 

The alcohol fuels you, makes you feel more confident as you were chosen to pick your suitor for the night. A fun game that your friends made up to play every Halloween – put your name in the hat if you want to play, names are chosen at random and those who are paired up can do as they please. Of course, not everyone is happy about their pickings but that’s the whole point of the game, to win or lose, to try something new and not every prize is what you asked for. Your hand shuffles the papers in the name and you pick one, a piece slightly sticky as you pull it out.

Blood.

Not that you or anyone else is aware of the fact that it is real, everyone is wearing fake blood and under the lights, who would know?

“San.” You call the name out, looking around the room until the handsome man everyone had been checking out steps forward, a smirk hidden beneath his mask as he eyes you up. He stalks towards you, standing before you as you tilt your head back to look up at him. “Wow-.”

Chuckling, low, deep, San leans down as he captures your chin between his thumb and index finger to make sure you maintain eye contact, “wow yourself, beautiful.” He says in such a way that has butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Shall we get out of here?” You don’t even know if you could say no to him, something about his closeness having you under a spell because all that is running through your mind is how this man could ruin your life and you’d say thank you.

Oh, who is going to tell you?

You agreed to it, whatever game San said he wanted to play, something that matched the whole Halloween vibe. Killer and victim, something like that, lost in the woods without anyone to be able to save you – it’s the headline for tomorrow’s news but as dangerous as this could be, you want to try. You want to know what it’s like to run knowing you’ll be caught, not knowing what’ll happen after, not knowing what is running through his head as he watches his little mouse run from the beast she’s invited into her life.

Fear play, he explained it as he drove you to the park, a kink that gets him going and that would be perfect. “When else would you be able to play the victim like this, on the scariest day of the year?” Maybe it’s the alcohol running through your veins but you agreed.

When else would you do such a thing?

“Shoes off, little one, don’t want to lose those heels.” He holds you steadily as you take off your shoes and put them in the back seat of his car. “Fuck, you’re tiny.” You blush when you realise that without your heels on, you’re face to face with San’s pecs and with the fake blood splattered across chest and the mask he still wears – you realise that this man could be really dangerous. That thought sends a shiver down your spine and even if it’s pitch black around you, you’re sure that you saw a glint in San’s eyes when he registered that shiver as realisation rather than the cold.

“So-”

“Run.” He instructs, indicating with his chin for you to run towards the tree line, away from him, “as quickly as you can, little one. “I’ll give you a head start.”

“And if you catch me?”

You can tell by the way the mask moves that San’s grin is wide, maybe it’s better to not see it because it would be truly terrifying if you did. “If I catch you – you are mine.”

You don’t know how long you’ve been running. You don’t know where you are. You don’t know what is even going on anymore. All you know is that you are fucking terrified as you hear the sound of twigs breaking or bushes rustling every time you take a break to catch your breath. Your lungs are tightly pushing out as much air as they can, your breathing shallow and ragged as you lean against a tree to help you catch your breath. “San?” You call out into the dark nothingness around you, shivering as the thought of being stuck out here with God knows what becomes increasingly loud in your head.

Why did you do this? Oh right, because the really hot guy from the party asked you if you wanted to play a little game with him. That’s right.

You hear movement nearby and you startle, like a baby deer, and sprint in the opposite direction as tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. You don’t even register that he’s herding you, having you go in the direction that he wants, herding you towards a lovely little clearing where nobody will be able to hear you. Disturb you… disturb him.

“Fuck, fuck,” you say over and over as you feel a branch catch on your dress before it scratches your skin and snaps.

More noises, more movements, more rustles that have you rushing in a different direction as you frantically try to escape. You’ve forgotten that this was meant to be a game, something fun and different because now all you can think about is trying to find your way to safety – only for a large body to take you to the ground without any warning. You struggle against him, desperately trying to get away but his arms wrap around you tightly, keeping you from being able to move as he chuckles deeply at your fruitless attempts at escaping him.

His nose buries into your neck, inhaling your fear and sighing like it’s the most intoxicating scent he’s ever had the pleasure of knowing. “Do you remember what I said, little one?” You freeze in his hold, a moment of recognition processing in your mind as you settle in his hold, “ah, ah, don’t give in so easily.” He warns, almost sounding disappointed you snapped out of it quickly, “we don’t want this to finish early. I simply asked if you remember what I said.”

You try to break free, to no avail, as you nod your head and utter, “yes,” loud enough for San to hear.

Suddenly, his hold loosens and you are able to get away, scrambling to your feet and not looking behind you. Maybe he was trying to adjust his hold and you managed to succeed – not knowing it was a trick until he had you tripping over and falling onto the ground while his large hand is tightly wrapped around your ankle, pulling you back.

There’s that fear again, the fear of the prey, the fear of getting eaten by the big, bad wolf. A fear that mixes with something else as San presses himself against you and grapples with your body until you’re completely enveloped by him, your small body pressed against his. Pleasure. “I’m going to fuck you, little one. I’m going to fuck you right here, on the forest floor before starting this chase all over again. Fucking you every single time I catch you until day breaks. I’m going to have you dripping cum as you desperately try to get to freedom only for you to end up under me again, and again, and again.” Your whole body tingles as his words are spoken deeply in your ear, the promise sounding like a threat and you have no idea how to process it as it fuels both your fear and arousal. “Who knows when I’ll be done with you.” He grinds his hips against you and you know he’s going to rip you apart. “If you don’t want it, say it right now and I’ll stop, take you home and we will never think of this again – but if you don’t…” His hold on you tightens, “then get ready for a long night.”

Sanity begs for you to run away, to not fall into this dangerous hole with this man but sanity doesn’t run this ship, does it?

“That’s a good little pet,” San growls before letting you go and lifting your dress over your ass and moving your drenched panties to the side, “that’s a fucking good little pet indeed.”

[humanpurposes]

Sweet Dream

The Sandman AU

Her father means to summon and capture Death, but ends up with the wrong sibling. She becomes fascinated with their prisoner // Main Masterlist

Dream!Aemond x unnamed female character

Warnings: 18+, spells n shit, mild gore, death, lowkey Lima syndrome, smut

Words: 8000

A/n: For my fellow Morpheus and Aemond lovers. Also available to read on AO3.

Roderick Burgess had always been a terrifying man. In grief he has only become more irritable and less predictable. 

The telegram came in the early days of July. She delivered the news to Roderick herself, while he was in his study. Her father did not like to be disturbed and he might have beaten her to remind her of the fact, until those fateful words slipped from her mouth. “Randall’s dead.” Shot down by a German machine gun at the Somme. In the end he had been one of thousands, his body buried in a neat line of tombstones somewhere in France, his name engraved on a plaque in the church at Wych Cross, ultimately unremarkable and indistinguishable from the other men and boys who had lost their lives.

But it was not so for Roderick. He let out a sudden groan and clutched his chest as though his pain was tangible and terrible. He shed no tears– of course he didn’t, but he gritted his teeth, crying out in fury as he dashed his hands over his desk, sending papers, books, fountain pens and empty whisky glasses tumbling to the floor. 

She stood frozen, waiting for his hand to descend on her for being the one to tell him, but it didn’t.

When they held a memorial service for him, Roderick handed her a piece of paper, to read before the crowd of faces she didn’t recognise. 

“Randall was our family’s happiness. He was the bravest, the wisest, and kindest older brother I could possibly dream of having.” Her hands and voice trembled as she read because she knew it was all a lie. In truth, Randall was like their father. They had the same short temper, the same stubbornness and the same cruelty. 

But Randall being dead meant she could reinvent him.

Lately, she dreams of happier memories and looks back on them fondly, knowing they can never be contradicted or disproved. 

While her father has dreamt of Death ever since. 

It’s a brisk afternoon in October when a man in a suit, bow tie and bowler hat arrives at Fawny Rig. He clutches a leather briefcase in front of him and introduces himself as Dr John Hathaway, a curator from the Royal Museum, travelled all the way from London to this quiet corner of East Sussex. She leads him through the panelled halls of the manor, to her father’s study.

Roderick barges in behind them, in a shirt and waistcoat, already smelling faintly of whisky and waving his cane in her general direction. “Tea for our guest,” he orders.

She has the pot ready and strains the dark, reddish liquid into two delicate china cups while her father and Dr Hathaway settle on opposing leather sofas in the centre of the room.

“I take it you have reconsidered?” Roderick says.

“After our meeting at the museum… I know what I said, but–” Dr Hathaway takes an unsure breath. “I received a telegram this morning. My son, Edmund, his destroyer was sunk last week off Jutland.”

It’s a loss Roderick can share, even if he doesn’t really understand how other than a few quick words of condolence. “I lost my son, Randall last year. He was my greatest joy.”

She pauses as she reaches for the sugar bowl. She has never been under the illusion that her own existence has given her father any joy, but then what sort of person would she have to be to earn his respect? She places the sugar on a tray, along with the small jug of milk and the cups, and brings them to the small table between the sofas. The pair don’t spare her a word of thanks or even a brief glance.

Dr Hathaway’s hand lingers on the clasp of his case. “If I give you this, could you truly do it? Could you really–”

“Capture the angel of Death?” Roderick says. “I believe I could.”

She shudders unexpectedly. The old groundskeeper used to say a sudden chill meant someone was walking over your grave.

Dr Hathaway clicks open the clasp and takes out an aged, leather bound book. It has no title on the cover, just gold markings in square, geometric patterns. 

“The Magdalene Grimoire,” her father mutters, his eyes wide in an ominous sort of wonder. “With the spells recorded in the book, we will see our sons returned to us.”

The next night is a full moon. She stands by the door with Sykes, welcoming men and women dressed in midnight blue robes to the manor and directing them towards the door that leads to the cellar. They’re all part of Roderick’s ‘Order of Ancient Mysteries’ which as far as she can tell is a cult of fanatics who still believe in witchcraft. They come to Fawny Rig once a month, to listen to her father read from so-called ‘spell books’ as though he is a preacher.

The fanatics pull hoods over their heads and descend the narrow stone steps into the cellar with lit candles grasped in their hands. Roderick leads the way, the book Dr Hathaway gave him tucked under his arm. 

She shoots Sykes a concerned frown but he just shrugs. He’s paid to organise the household and guard Burgess’ collection of relics, not to ask questions. Questions are a dangerous game with Roderick.

She trails after them and shuts the iron lock on the door behind her.

The cellar is more like a crypt, an expansive room sprawling under the house, held up by pillars and arches. In the low candlelight she makes out a set of markings on the floor in the heart of the room and this is where the Order of Ancient Mysteries gathers.

The shapes and symbols are unfamiliar to her, painted onto the flagstones, twisting and curling over each other to form a circle. Roderick stands at the very edge of it by a brass lectern.

She watches, half hidden behind a pillar as they stand around the circle and Roderick opens the book, his desired page already marked and studied in the hours since it has been in his possession. 

“Tonight,” her father says to his congregation, “we will achieve what no one before us has attempted. We will summon and imprison Death.”

His eyes meet hers through the shadowy space, heavy and sunken with age, grief and months worth of sleepless nights. They glisten slightly too. 

He holds his hands out and looks down at the markings on the floor. “Here, in the darkness.”

The others echo his words, softly and melodically at first. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

And so the ritual begins.

“I give you a coin made from a stone,” Roderick says, presenting the object to the ceiling as though the eyes of God are looking down from the heavens, through the house and the earth, and drops it to the floor, inside the circle of markings.

“I give you a knife from under the hills.” He holds up a thin blade and lifts his other arm so the sleeve of his robe drops to his elbow. “I give you the blood from out of my vein.”

She winces but does not look away as he draws the knife along the skin of his forearm, until dark droplets begin to fall and stain the markings. 

“I give you a song I stole from the dirt and I give you a feather,” he says, raising a white feather that almost seems to glow through the gloom, “pulled from an angel’s wing.”

And all the while the voices persist. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

He drops the feather and it drifts gently down, landing in the very heart of the circle. 

The room is still and she holds her breath.

The feather starts to move. It twists in a circle and floats up, lurching and turning as though it’s being blown about by a breeze she cannot feel or hear.

The voices raise to an urgent chant. Here in the darkness. Here in the darkness.

She clenches her fingertips against the stone of the pillar. She tries to meet her father’s eye again but he is fixated on the feather flying above their heads.

He calls over the chanting, “I summon you with poison,” and the moment he does the feather flickers like the striking of a match. “I summon you with pain! I open the way! I open the gates! I summon you in the name of the old Lords, we summon you together! Come!”

A noise, like a cracking whip splits her ears. The feather bursts into white and golden flames like the flash of a camera. The heat of it rushes over her face and burns her eyes.

And from the flames a body falls to the floor.

It thuds as it hits the ground, silencing the voices save for a few gasps and murmurs. She feels the flagstones rumble under her feet, sees the edges of a black cloak spilling across the floor and a head of long silver hair trailing from its head.

This isn’t an illusion. Roderick Burgess has brought forth a tangible entity, plucked from God-knows-where, lying motionless on the floor. For a moment she wonders if he is dead, until she sees a slight movement in his chest, but even then she fears she could be imagining it.

She takes a few unsure steps to where Roderick stands and the man– he is a man as far as she can tell– is further revealed to her. She can see his face now, his pale skin, the angles of his jaw and cheeks, the curve of his lips, but beyond that she finds herself unable to look away from the jewel that sits where his left eye should be. It is a bright, deep shade of blue and dotted with silver specs, like the vast expanse of twilight when the stars are out but the sky is not quite black. The eye is framed by twisted, red flesh and a scar, slicing from his brow to his cheek. It takes her a moment to realise his other eye, closer to the ground, is closed. 

The only other parts of him she can see are the tips of his fingers, clasped around a small pouch.

“Is this… Death?” she utters.

“That remains to be seen,” Roderick says. He points to the pouch. “Get that for me.”

She stares back at her father. How he can speak so flippantly when a man has been conjured, seemingly from thin air, is beyond her. But he glares back, his dark expression only more formidable with his aged frown.

So she steps forward and begins to lower herself beside the man.

“Careful, girl!” Roderick barks, “don’t break the binding circle.”

She stops and looks down, where her skirt is inches from brushing over the markings on the floor. She shuffles back and, with trembling fingers, reaches for the pouch. It’s not hard to take, the man hardly resists, twitching his fingers to keep it in his grasp. It feels wrong, stealing from someone too weak to hold onto what is his.

She looks into the jewel-like eye. Can he see through it? Perhaps it has something to do with the scar? Did he place it there himself, or was he simply made this way?

Someone snatches the pouch from her. She looks up at her father as he undoes the strings and peers inside. “Sand,” he mutters, and stows it away inside his robes.

“And the jewel,” he says to her.

She means to protest, but finds she cannot.

She avoids the markings as she leans forwards. She presses her fingertips beside the man’s eye. His skin is cold and firm.

She swallows her guilt and the nauseous feeling in her throat, nudging her fingertips into the socket. It takes her a few attempts, but she pries the jewel free, wincing when she feels it come loose. If he feels any pain he hardly shows it. His brow furrows but his other eye remains closed, and he makes no sound.

She stands and offers the jewel to her father.

Roderick holds it to the light of one of the candles, giving a curious hum before he pockets that too.

“Move,” he mutters to her, pushing her out of his way as he stands over the man. He tugs on the black cloak and it falls into fragments that fade away, like dust on a breeze. The man’s body is bare, pale skin running over details of muscle and bone. He shivers and twitches like he has a fever, but still he does not speak, or even let out a breath.

“We’ll let our guest recover,” Roderick says, “and then we shall make our demands.

They leave him there for days. He does not move, or ask for food or water.

She doesn’t dream in the nights since they captured their ‘guest’. In fact she hardly sleeps at all. Each morning she wakes, already exhausted, having felt like she’s only closed her eyes for a few brief moments.

Then come the stories in the newspapers. They call it ‘the sleeping sickness’. People all over the country, and in fact the world, have been plagued, either to not sleep at all or never wake up.

On a cold, drizzly morning, a stranger appears at the door to the manor.

She listens and watches from the top of the stairs, crouching by the bannister to stay out of sight as a man with choppy silver hair and pale skin strides into the entrance hall, with Roderick following closely behind.

“Do I know you?” her father asks, furiously.

“No.” The stranger’s voice is low and almost seductive. “But I know all about you, Roderick Burgess, and the being trapped in your basement.”

“You mean to intimidate me?”

She sees a flash of a grin and a pair of pale purple eyes through the wooden balusters.

“I am here to help you,” the stranger says. “There are benefits to keeping one of the Targaryens in your confinement.”

“Targaryens?” her father echoes.

“Did you think Death was the only one of her kind? Death has family. Destiny, Despair, Desire…”

“And who have I got?”

“Dream,” the stranger says with a smile that bares his teeth.

A shiver runs over her shoulders. She keeps her jaw tight to stop herself from reacting to it.

Roderick scoffs. “What good is a God who governs dreams?”

The stranger's voice darkens. “There was a saying in the ancient times of humanity, that said the Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. But they are not Gods. They are more than Gods. They are Endless.”

He tells Roderick of Dream’s vestments, the pouch of sand and his sapphire, both of which he says Roderick may manipulate for his own influences. He says the binding circle will not be enough to contain their prisoner, that they must construct a sphere of glass within the circle.

Most crucially of all, he says no one must be allowed to fall asleep in Dream’s presence.

“Why are you helping me?” Roderick finally asks.

The stranger runs his tongue over his teeth and smiles to himself. “Little family dispute, I shan’t bore you with the details. But for your sake, and for mine, he must not escape.”

He offers his hand to Roderick, who returns the gesture after a moment of hesitation.

Before he heads for the door, the stranger’s eyes trail up to where she hides. Her heart leaps with a sense of dread, like she’s seen something she wasn’t meant to. 

She doesn’t trust him, not by the look or sound of him, but her father does. He follows the stranger’s instructions, ordering the construction of the glass sphere, to be welded around their prisoner as it is made. Finally, he arranges a rota of guards to keep watch over him, under strict orders to never fall asleep, lest their prisoner escape into their dreams.

The details of his face are etched into her memory, even after months, the angle of his jaw, the curve of his upper lip, the silver falling over his shoulders. If she could dream, she is sure she would dream of him. Instead she holds onto the flashes of images that appear before her waking eyes, the pale skin of his bare body against the floor, the stars in his sapphire eye, now kept locked away in her father’s study.

She knows Roderick has tried to bargain with him, and each time he returns from the cellar more furious than when he entered it. “He will not speak a word!” his voice bellows through the quiet halls of the manor. “He will not even look at me!”

When she dares to ask questions, Roderick glares at her and tightens the grip on his cane.

The stranger with silver hair was right about something, wealth and admiration have come to Roderick Burgess in droves since he acquired the Lord of Dreams. It’s something about the sapphire, or the sand, something she doesn’t understand, but their family comes across good fortunes, which is almost entirely spent on lavish parties to entertain Roderick’s ever expanding crowd of admirers.

She wakes with the sunrise, from a void and dreamless sleep. The manor is littered with empty bottles, full ashtrays, plates of half-eaten food, odd shoes and playing cards. Her father must still be asleep, which is odd. He is usually an early riser, even after a night of drinking.

A rumbling in her stomach has her heading through the entrance hall towards the kitchen, but she stops when she sees two men waiting by the door to the cellar– two of the guards her father has hired to watch the prisoner, dressed in smart suits with service revolvers just poking out of their jackets. They look restless, peering their heads round corners, shifting their weight on their legs, not wanting to step too far from the door.

“We can’t just leave,” one mutters to the other.

“I’m not staying down there with that… thing one second longer than I have to–”

“Good morning,” she calls.

They look at her in unison, and frown.

“Have you seen Noel and Mauirce?” one of the men asks. “They’re nearly half an hour late.”

The rotation of the guards. They take eight hour shifts in pairs.

Her eyes glance to the cellar door, opened only a fraction. “I could watch him until they get here,” she says, “if you want to leave.”

It doesn’t take them long to agree.

They leave through the front door. When she hears it shut, she finally lets herself reach for the handle to the cellar door. The handle is cold, untouched for hours at a time, and a little stiff. She pushes on it slowly, carefully, making as little noise as possible. 

With the cellar door closed, she shuts out the light and warmth of the morning. A silent, icy draft drifts through the narrow stairway. She follows it down, all the way to the dull, eerie light of the main chamber.

The sight takes her breath away, the glass sphere, suspended above the ground, still within the circle of markings that keep his power contained.

He sits in the centre, still bare, his knees tucked into his chest and his hair falling around his face like a veil.

As far she knows, no food or water ever passes the threshold to the cellar, and the cage is never opened. How does he breathe? How does he eat? How does he not wither away? He just sits there, stoic, his face frozen in time like a statue, like the image of a god cut from marble, to be preserved and admired.

A man like that cannot be real, and yet there he is.

“Hello,” she says. 

He does not react to her voice or the sound of her footsteps as she walks further into the chamber.

If he can even hear her. She wonders how thick the glass is, if sound can permeate it, or does he just hear the sound of his own breath echoed back to him, endlessly.

She comes to lean against one of the pillars, tracing her fingertips down the cold, rough surface of the stone.

“Are you really the Lord of dreams?” she says. 

His gaze lifts and turns to her, just enough that she can see his chin, his nose, and a single violet eye. It is not like the stranger’s, it is far more vibrate, burning with with a silent fury that makes her heart flutter and her skin feel tight.

“I have not dreamt since that night.”

She knows it isn’t just her. It’s the sleeping sickness, the war, the cloud of darkness looming over the rest of the world.

“The groundskeeper has a son, he’s only ten years old. He’s been asleep for months now. He can’t even eat. If he doesn’t wake up, he’ll die.”

He does not react, but his eye follows her as she takes a single step away from the pillar, towards the sphere.

“This is my father’s– our doing, yes?”

Her eyes dip to his chest, to the movement of his lungs underneath skin and muscle, a steady rise and fall with a deep, patient breath. 

“My father is a reasonable man, if you could give him something, anything, I am sure he would let you out.”

He tilts his head, until she can just see the point of his scar on his cheek and the edge of his empty eye socket.

He is simultaneously the most terrifying and most beautiful thing she has ever laid eyes upon. The low light only accentuates the harsh angles in his face, the ridges and lines in the muscles and tendons of his neck, torso, arms and legs.

She takes another step closer. “I would let you out, if I could,” she says quietly, like a secret.

He blinks softly, and when her eyes flicker to his lips she sees them curled into something almost like a smile, but not quite. 

“Oh you would, would you?”

Her blood runs cold at the sound of her father’s voice. She whips her head around just in time to see Roderick marching towards her with his hand reaching out. His fist grips at her hair, and when she yelps in pain he hisses at her to be quiet. He drags her back up the steps, away from the cold cellar, to the warmth and the light, to the world without dreams.

She bathes before dinner, wincing as she runs her hands over the fresh bruises that mark her skin. Most of them are red, others are set deep and already turning a greyish purple. 

Her father’s fury still rings in her ears. “Stupid girl! If he escapes he will slaughter us all!”

Leaning on her back is especially painful, it’s where her body took the brunt of his cane. She brings her knees into her chest, hunching over herself.

She hasn’t cried over her father’s cruelty in years, not since she was a small child. He’d always call her weak for it. Randall never cried when he was disciplined, because he knew, deep down, it was good for him. Perhaps she is simply not as strong as Randall was.

Her tears are hot and stinging in her eyes. She blinks and lets them fall onto her knees, to become the dew that lingers on her skin.

“Do you want to die, girl? Because it can be easily remedied!”

She doesn’t wear anything special, a white satin dress, with long, billowy sleeves, and applies some rouge to her cheeks, to make her seem more awake, more alive.

She reaches the bottom of the staircase as the clock in the entrance hall starts to chime. Five times. Marking the start of another shift rotation. 

Two men appear from the hall that leads from the cellar, vaguely nodding as they pass her.

She can see into the dining room from the stairs, an enormous table set with silver cutlery and china plates, for just two of them.

The door to her father’s study is closed, obstructing the voices within. He’s arguing with someone. 

Before she can stop herself, she’s walking towards the cellar. She tries the handle to find it unlocked. With one final look to the door to the study, she descends back into the darkness.

Two guards sit on wooden chairs by the entrance from the stairway, and immediately stand to attention as she walks into the chamber.

“Miss,” one of them calls, “you cannot be here.”

And she seems to have caught his attention too. He looks up from where he sits in the sphere, his forearm resting on his knee. His hair is pushed from his face, and his violet eye is wide, curious.

“This is my father’s house, I will go where I please,” she says, shakily, continuing until she comes face to face with the glass.

He stares at her, somewhat furious, but in a way she knows it is not meant for her.

The men behind her are muttering to each other, she doesn’t hear their words, but she hears their panic.

“It isn’t right for him to keep you here,” she says. “It isn’t right for him to think he can play with mortality. And I am as bad as he is for letting this happen.”

The tendons of his hand flex as he clenches his fist, his fingers restless as he stares at her, intently.

“If I let you out,” she whispers, “would you harm me?”

His face softens as his eye moves over her face. 

He’s studying her, she realises. She imagines him noting the curves of her cheeks and chin, the shape of her mouth, perhaps the faint teartracks and the dark circles under her eyes.

What does he make of her, the daughter of his captor, the one who pried the sapphire from his eye? Roderick could be right, he might slaughter her the moment he is free from his cage. 

“I would like to believe that you wouldn’t,” she says.

His expression gives nothing away.

Suddenly he shifts. His muscles tense as he comes to his feet and uncurls his spine to stand before her. Something about his movements are distinctly inhuman.

The guards behind her are shouting now, telling her to step away, calling for Mr Burgess. Their voices are inconsequential to her, muffled as though spoken behind a closed door. Her heart pounds in her ears. All she sees is him, the intense gaze of his eye, a wide palm reaching out and pressing against the glass.

She reaches up slowly, his eye growing wider with every inch she comes closer to touching the glass that separates them, but not quite meeting it.

His brow furrows as if to question her. Why are you hesitating? What are you afraid of?

She won’t be dragged upstairs again. She won’t be thrown to the floor with nowhere else to go. She will not suffer at the hands of Roderick Burgess any longer.

So she presses her hand to the glass.

Her skin is feverishly cold, her arms weightless. She can almost feel the shape of his palm through the glass, but not quite, like she is reaching for something she will never touch, clawing to the memory of a dream.

She can feel herself slipping into numbness, her eyes and her limbs becoming heavy. She presses her fingernails against the glass, silently pleading though she doesn’t know what for. An escape? An end? Anything.

His face is strangely gentle as he pouts his lips, hushing her, lulling her panic. She can feel her breathing and her heartbeat slowing, but it does not frighten her.

The glass shatters, her knees give way. She is awake enough to know she is falling, but too far gone to stop herself.

But she does not need to.

The world around her is silent– no, a gentle breeze drifts over her skin and whispers in her ear. Sunlight beams onto one side of her face and the other rests against bare skin. She feels a weight around her waist, something propping her body upright.

She tries to steady herself but the ground shifts beneath her. The arms around her only tighten their grip when she stumbles.

Finally she lets her eyes flutter open. They are in a desert, a vast expanse of dry sand, reaching as far as the eye can see.

Her head is moving with his breath, against his chest.

She tilts her gaze up, close enough that her lips barely brush over the base of his throat.

His eye is already fixed on her, holding her firmly in his arms, pulling her into him.

Wordlessly, he releases one arm from her waist, and reaches down, keeping his eye on her face. When he brings himself back up, she looks at his closed fist, where sand slips from between his fingers. 

Her confusion must be visible on her face because he smiles softly at her, letting out a low “hmm” as he does.

She means to blink, but when she opens her eyes the world has changed again.

She lies face down against the ground of the cellar, dust and dirt pressing into her cheek, broken glass littering the floor around her.

She blinks again through the haze of sleep still clouding her vision. She makes out a figure in a long black coat with silver hair falling down his back. He stands over two bodies, lying lifeless on the ground, and stalks towards another.

Roderick is at the base of the stairs. He raises his cane and cries out as the prisoner reaches into his coat.

Her father’s voice fades into a spluttering, retching sound. Then he is silent. His body slumps to the floor with a gut-wrenching thud. When the stranger walks away, she sees her father sprawled out on the floor, blood spurting from his throat, seeping into his shirt, pooling on the floor around him.

She pushes herself up, leaning on her hands as her vision is blocked once again by a black coat. He stands over her, blood dripping from a knife he holds in his hand, his eye a brighter shade of violet than it was before.

He kneels beside her, taking her chin in his fingertips.

“Are you hurt?” he says. His voice is a hypnotic blend of soft and harsh, low and light, chilling in a way that sends a wave of warmth through her stomach.

She looks past his shoulder, where Roderick’s skin is turning from white to grey. “What did you do to my father?” she utters.

He jerks her head back to him. His expression is dark, lips upturned into a sneer.

Does he expect her to be grateful?

“My tools,” he says.

“You’re… what?”

“My tools. The sapphire and the pouch.”

The items that were stolen from him, that her father has now paid for with blood.

“Are you going to kill me too?” she says, digging her fingertips into the stone and the shards of glass beneath her.

He tilts his head and his lips twitch in a flicker of movement. His voice is barely above a whisper. “Tell me where they are. I will not harm you.”

Three men lay dead mere feet from them, and yet she finds herself wanting to trust him.

He offers her his arm as she stands, gripping at the thick, leather sleeve. Her palms are covered in small cuts from the glass, droplets of bright red blood pearling at the edges. He takes her wrists in his hands to have a look and tuts to himself.

“Quickly,” he says, moving towards the steps, leading her along with him, past the bodies of the guards, and the body of her father.

She brings him to the study, her hands shaking, bloody and outstretched before her. The door is wide open, a stack of papers thrown carelessly to the floor.

Roderick’s safe sits in a black cabinet in the corner of the room. She uses her fingertips to open it, wincing at the pieces of glass still stuck in her skin, but she swallows down the pain.

She guesses the combination on the first try. 1895– Randall’s birth year.

There, in the centre shelf, above the Grimoire, below a stack of banknotes, is the pouch of sand and the sapphire.

He reaches for the gem first. She turns away as he fixes it back into his socket, remembering the weight of it in her palm when she took it from him. She sees him reach forward again, but not for the pouch. He takes a hold of her wrists.

With no magic words or spells, he waves a hand over her palms. For a moment she sees a glow in his sapphire eye. The pain vanishes, so does the blood, the glass and the dirt. 

She blinks a few effortless tears from her eyes. Tears for her father, tears of relief, she cannot place a cause.

Cold fingertips meet her skin once more, as the Lord of Dreams wipes her tears away, bringing her gaze to meet his.

He leans in closer, until his forehead meets hers. “Sleep,” he whispers.

She falls into him, to find herself wide awake, clinging onto him as she had done in the desert.

But they are somewhere else entirely. The sky above them is a pale yellow, like daybreak, painted with swirling grey clouds. The land here is… dead. Dead trees, barren mountains and hills, and in the distance, beyond a dried lake, is a castle of red brick, decrepit, falling into ruin.

“You see the damage that has been done to my realm?” he says. With her ear pressed against his chest, his voice is cavernous and she feels everything, the way his words drag through his throat. She feels his pain at being confined, the loss of his home and his creations.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

“I do not forgive easily, that is why Roderick Burgess had to die. But you…” he pulls away from her so he might look at her properly, cupping the sides of her face and swiping his thumbs over her cheeks. “I do not need an apology from you. We are free of him now.”

“Is that what you think I wanted?” 

He hums with tight lips. “I have seen your dreams, as I see the dreams of every mortal. I see them as clearly as you perceive the waking world. It just so happened that our dreams coincided.”

She had never dreamt of her father’s death and she had certainly never imagined that she might have played a part in it. But she cannot deny the weight now lifted from her shoulders. She will never have to earn his approval, she will never have to endure him again. She is free of him.

“Go now,” he says, “I am sure you have your own business to resolve.”

He releases his hold of her and brings his hands behind his back. As he walks towards the castle the world around her starts to fade. She can smell the musk of the manor, the lingering smoke of her father’s cigars, the distinct scent of a winter evening.

“Wait!” she calls.

The ends of his coat swish around his legs as he turns back to face her. “Yes?” he says, the corners of his mouth curling up into a small smile.

“I want to know your name.”

“I have had many names,” he says.

“And how would you have me know you?”

“Aemond,” he says.

She echoes his name, letting her mouth linger on the final syllable. “Will I see you again?”

He draws the tip of his tongue between his lips. “Perhaps,” he says.

When she wakes she is laid out on one of the leather sofas of her father’s study. She looks down at her hands, traces her fingertips down her face, now free of the dirt and dust. 

She wonders if she might have dreamt all of it, the beautiful man in the sphere, the glass breaking, her father’s blood on the floor…

Her life is never the same after that. With her father dead, his estate passes to her. For the first time, her life is hers to do with as she pleases.

And yet she feels an absence, a hollow longing in her chest.

Her dreams come back to her since she set him free, and each night she dreams of him.

He only appears in brief moments, like lighting, bright and brilliant, but gone in a heartbeat, before she can truly see him. She sees the movement of a leather coat, flashes of silver, violet and sapphire blue. Sometimes she is met with darkness as a pair of lips ghosts over her neck with a contented sigh and a warm breath.

She cannot bear it.

As she lies in the empty manor house, she traces her fingers over her body, her lips, down her neck and her chest, underneath her cotton nightgown, to her navel and the pool of wanting wetness between her legs, trying to imagine they are his. 

She pictures the way his hair fell around his face, the coldness of his skin, the curve of his lips. She imagines them parting in a small sigh, the sound of his breath, the way his chest hummed as she circles over her bundle of nerves. Pleasure sparks at first but it keeps slipping from her grasp.

She circles faster, harder, searching for a spot that will finally give her the release she craves.

She feels heat and a sheen of sweat settling on the surface of her skin, her breathing hitches, her hips twitch under her touches. The pleasure heightens, then fades.

With her eyes tightly shut, she spurs herself on with thoughts of him, breathlessly chanting his name into the empty space and cold air of her bedroom.

“Aemond… Aemond…”

Something changes.

The mattress shifts beneath her and a weight presses against her body, her legs, her stomach, her chest.

A hand clasps around hers, ceasing her movements, and bringing it to rest by her side.

She laments the loss of the friction against her bud, her pleasure pulled away from her, but in its place anticipation blooms within her.

When she opens her eyes he is above her, against her, hovering his face over hers so that all she sees are his eyes, one violet, one sapphire.

“You have my attention,” he says in a soft but unsettling voice.

A thrill ripples through her body.

She whispers his name on an exhale of breath, running her fingertips over his arms, tense and toned as his props himself over her. 

But she is somewhat dazed, her senses numbed by fatigue and the echo of the pleasure she had been chasing.

“Is this real?” she utters.

Aemond leans further into her. She feels a weight between her hips and an unmistakable hardness prodding at her centre as he brings his lips to her neck, pressing a slow, teasing kiss against a sensitive spot of skin that has her body tensing and her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Does if feel real?” he whispers against her skin.

How much has he truly seen of her dreams, her desires, she wonders? Perhaps she should feel some kind of shame, but she cannot, not when she is on the precipice of something bright, beautiful and damning. She can hardly stand being on the edge of it, having him so close but not close enough.

She wraps her arms around his neck as he teases her with his lips, crosses her legs around his hips, meeting his movements as he torturously grinds his hardening cock against her cunt, dripping with arousal, twitching and clenching around nothing at the anticipation.

“Needy little thing,” he mutters, dragging his nose along her neck as he comes to kiss the hollow of her throat.

His voice sends a shockwave through her body. Her hips buck against his, determined for relief as her fingers thread through the soft strands of his hair, and tug. 

He lets out a quiet growl against her skin. A hand rests upon her thigh and trails up, bunching the hem of her nightgown to her waist and adjusting the other side. 

He sits back, watching her with the same darkness and intensity as when he was trapped inside the cage, intrigued at the least, fascinated if she is presumptive. 

The irony of being laid half bare before him and at his mercy does not escape her.

“I’ve heard you crying out for me, little mortal,” he says. 

“You said you can see my dreams,” she says, “how?”

“Your dreams exist in my realm,” he says, “in The Dreaming. I see your dreams as I see the dreams of every other being. I feel them, as clearly as you perceive the waking world. But you…” he muses, settling his hands on either side of her waist. “You are incessant.”

She shivers and writhes under his touch, a pulsing heat settling within her.

She traces her hands over his, where they grip at her waist, along his smooth skin, the tendons and veins. His fingers are long and lithe. She knows they would feel so perfect, wrapped around her throat, stroking over her skin, pushing inside of her wet heat to coax her pleasure.

Aemond smiles to himself as though he can hear her thoughts.

He grips harder into her flesh and pulls his hips back, only to let his cock slide over her slick folds with teasingly gentle thrusts.

Every stroke pushes her closer and closer to the edge, but not enough to find release. She feels the frustrating want pulsing through her body, the coil getting tighter and tighter, her cunt clenching over nothing.

“Aemond…” she says with a breathless mewl, “please…”

“You really want it, don’t you?” Aemond growls, resting his forehead against hers. “Just feel how wet that empty little cunt is for me.”

Her eyes trail along the angles of his face, the line of his scar, the night sky in his eyes as he stares down at her, the gentle curve of his lips and how they settle into a soft expression. 

Her gaze slips further down, over his throat, his collar, his pale, bare chest, the ridges of the muscles on his abdomen, the slight dip in his waist, the trail of silver hair to his cock, long, hard and flushed with need, transfixed by the way it moves against her.

She holds her breath each time he withdraws, stifling her whines into his mouth when he only keeps teasing her.

“I want it,” she groans, “I want you. I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

He lets out a contented hum as he leans down to kiss her. The movements of his mouth are slow and consuming, claiming her with lips, tongue and teeth, wetness and warmth.

She holds him close by the sides of his face. In his violet eye she sees his hunger, his rage, his lust. In his sapphire, she sees oblivion. 

And finally, he eases himself into her. 

He fucks her delicately, dragging his cock through her gently, slowly, deeply. His lips ghost over her skin, her temple, her cheek, back to her mouth with light kisses and strained but soft breaths. 

With a few deft circles over her bud she feels herself come undone around him. Her climax burns through her and she holds him closer for purchase, digging her fingertips into his skin as her resolve melts and her legs tremble around his hips.

Aemond doesn’t stop. He holds her against the mattress with a determined grip, fucking her through her peak until her pleasure settles and simmers once more.

Being kissed by him, held by him, fucked by him feels light a dream, that weightless, numb feeling of being between consciousness and sleep coursing through her limbs. It feels good, it feels deep, it feels perfect.

She cannot be sure how many climaxes he draws from her, she just feels him, his heat, his hands and his skin as he repositions her legs, guides her onto her front, brings her up to her knees, pushes her back down again, until she is a blissful, mindless mess.

He meets his own end when he has her face down on the bed, her face turned to the side against the pillow, his mouth on the underside of her jaw as he pounds into her. 

“You’re doing so well,” she hears him rasp, “you’ve been so good to me… fuck, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Her mind is beyond words and coherent thoughts. She utters the only thing she feels, the only thing she can think of, “Aemond… Aemond… Aemond…”

He stills his hips against her rear with a guttural moan, pressing his face against hers, squeezing her waist under his hands. He allows himself a few more shallow thrusts until he is spent. She feels his cock pulse within her, a warmth pooling, his spend dripping from her cunt once he has pulled away.

The weight dissipates from her back and for a moment she lies there, basking in the afterglow, feeling her chest rise and fall against the bed, the softness of her sheets under her fingertips.

She wakes to a gentle breeze running over her skin and slipping down her spine.

She allows her eyes to flutter open and recoils at the pale sunlight beaming through the spaces in the curtains. 

She holds her breath.

She hears no sound or sign of life other than her own pulse. 

She twists herself to sit up, noting that her bedsheets are neat and the hem of her nightgown is where it should be. 

Is it possible that she dreamed it? She remembers it so vividly, but the mind has a way of playing tricks. Perhaps it was only a dream.

“Your dreams exist in my realm,” he had said. “I feel them, as clearly as you perceive the waking world.”

How do we determine what is real? she wonders as she pulls on a robe and goes to open the curtains. The morning floods her bedroom. It brings no warmth, but it brings light and life back into the room. 

To dream is to live beyond ourselves, why should that be any less true than the world around me? 

She seats herself before her vanity, reaching for the drawer for her hairbrush.

But something catches her eye, a glint of colour against mahogany wood, a small gem catching the sunlight.

She takes it between her thumb and index finger and brings it before her eyes; a sapphire, the size of a pearl, a deep and vibrant blue. Its edges are uneven and dull, uncut, as though plucked straight from the earth. 

She turns it about between her fingers. It could be a trick of the light, but there is depth to it, a vastness within. The sapphire seems to capture the night sky, dotted with glimmering stars.

His was the same.

As the dazed state of sleep wears off, she feels the satisfied ache between her legs, the spots on her skin marked by him. She smiles to herself and holds the gem in her palm, this precious gift, this reminder, this promise from the Lord of Dreams.

Tags (comment to be added)

Sweet Dream taglist: @solisarium @sirenangelroyal @sabrinasstar @shygardengalaxy @aemondsfavouritebastard @wintrr13 @thedamewithabook @lexwolfhale @rainyforest777

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

[nyarlathotep-thecrawlingchaos]

So i was jus yk thinking and i jus thought what if we had red hair like shanks.. like not related at all it could be dyed or natural don't matter, but how would he react to seeing someone he doesnt know with the same hair color as him?

(Idk i feel like he would a lil happy n shi🤭)

Shanks headcanons?!?!

SHANKS HEADCANONS ✨️weeeeeee✨️

Also Shanks was at least like eighty percent of the reason that thirteen year old me dyed my hair red for the first time and it remains my prefered hair color to this day.

Silly and fluffy and SFW

Shanks (OPLA or anime) X Reader

Ugh his smile fucking kills me 🥹🫠❤️💀

Shanks grabbing Benn Beckmann's shoulder and pointing excitedly at you in a tavern in some port town or other, "Beck—look, look—"

*not even batting an eye* *just rubbing his temples and gritting his teeth* *tone of voice as if speaking to a small child* "Yes, Captain, other people have red hair."

*big stupid grin* "I know, isn’t it beautiful?"

*exhausted sigh* *literally so tired someone give this man a vacation*

Literally so happy, he revels in the little things and lives in the moment.

Let's face it, his whole shtick is hair color, it's in his nickname, it's in the name of his crew, he one hundred percent believes in redhead supremacy.

Basically turns into a giddy teenager about fellow redheads. Same-hat vibes, or that spiderman meme.

Any shade of red, from orange-ginger to deep red to burgundy, it's all just beautiful, and he will go out of his way to either befriend or flirt with any redhead within shouting distance.

Honestly does not care if it's dyed or not, actually kind of an honor if it is dyed because it means you're a redhead by your own free will and he just thinks that's so neat.

But if he's drunk enough that his brain-to-mouth filter is gone, then he's definitely going to ask you if the carpet matches the drapes. He fully expects to get punched for it (whether by you or Beck is as yet unknown), but he can't help it, he's just curious.

If you respond to his flirting in kind, he's going to want to keep you. Not kidnap you or anything obviously, but he's very persuasive and there's a fair chance it's going to work and you're going to be the newest redhead among the Red Hair Pirates.

Your new nickname is Little Red, this is non-negotiable.

He will constantly be playing with your hair, running his fingers through it, cuddling up to you and just burying his face in it, reveling in how bright and fiery it looks when the sunlight catches it.

If you do dye your hair, then Shanks is going to offer to help; but he has no idea what he's doing, it's going to be a huge mess, hair dye literally everywhere, and there's a good chance it's ultimately partly (mostly) an excuse to end up in the shower with you.

[bunnydolllies016]

Lab of the Damned

Chapter 1: Welcome Mc, to A.M.L!

(This is the first chapter of the main story of the Obey Me! Dark lab au! Be warned that future installments will include more gore and violence. The mc/reader is GN, so it'll be Obey me x Gn! reader. TW: Blood, dark themes mentioned, describes some violence.) Chp. 1 (you are here), Chp. 2(Coming soon)

"Greetings Mc!

We are sending you this letter regarding your application to work at Angel's Medicine Laboratory. We are so happy to welcome you to the A.M.L family! Please come into our main building as soon as possible through the hours of 8 A.M to 10 P.M for a tour and to sign your work contract. We'll provide you with your own living space as well so please bring your dear belongings.

We here at A.M.L. can't wait to meet you in person! We hope you'll love becoming part of our family.

Hope to see you soon,

Simeon Angel."

You couldn't believe it, even as you continued to hold the letter in your hands you couldn't believe it was real. You squealed happily and hugged the letter close to your chest, you can finally help make the world a better place! All the struggle throughout high school and a four-year college would finally be worth it. Also, you won't have to live with your parents anymore! You waste no time texting your parents the news, receiving congrats and support in a matter of minutes as you begin to pack up your more important items. Different outfits, some family photos, and anything else you held dear and wanted to keep with you. In the end, you had a backpack and gym bag full of stuff as you began to head out. By now your parents had rushed home to see you off and say their goodbyes. You got in your car and were off, it took you thirty minutes to finally reach the main building and it was around 1 P.M now. You sped-walked into the main building with your bags in hand, stopping to face the lady at the reception desk who seemed to be drawing something out, looked like some elaborate trap. You coughed to get their attention. The woman faced you, their pink rooted hair bounced a bit, and the blue in it looked like a good contrast to the pink. Their green eyes stared at you as they began to speak.

"Good Evening, Welcome to A.M.L., who are you and what do you need?" Their tone sounded slightly annoyed. 'Rude much?' you had thought to yourself.

"Hello, My name is Mc. I'm here for my tour and to sign my contract. Do I sign it here or?...." You say as you wait for their response. Instead, their neon green eyes look you up and down before they pick up their phone and dial a number. You hear them mumble your name over it before the person on the other line hangs up first.

"He'll be down here to get you and greet you shortly, please stay still and wait." They say before going back to drawing whatever they had been before you interrupted them. You decide to look at their name tag, 'Thirteen', what a weird name. Before you know it you see him, your eyes lighting up with recognition. Simeon Angel himself has come to greet you!

"Ah! You must be Mc!" He had begun to speak before a small bark sounded from his bag. You looked down at it just to be greeted by a light blonde chihuahua in a white hat. 'cute..' you thought to yourself. Simeon coughed before he chuckled. "Don't mind Luke, let's go to my office so we can get your papers signed," he says before motioning you to follow him into a nearby elevator. "Just leave your bags here, they'll be taken to your new living quarters by some fellow employees," Simeon states as he steps into the open elevator.

"Of course sir!" You say and do as told, dropping your bags in a nearby chair, and watching as they're taken by two mysterious people before you follow the slim male into the elevator. Eventually, you find yourself sitting at a desk, Simeon Angel behind the desk and in front of you. 

"Well Mc, I'm happy to congratulate you in person! I have your contract right here, please do sign it." The man says with a smile as he hands you a clipboard, your contract on it. You briefly read it, not really paying attention to the details, he definitely wouldn't be hiding anything dark in this contract, right? You sign the contract and hand it back to Simeon, who smiles at you and stamps it, confirming you signed it. Simeon speaks up as he takes Luke out of his bag to roam his office, "Thank you! You're the most perfect person for this role! Here take this." The male before you hands you a watch, it looks... weird, you put it on anyway, and once on your wrist, it locked around it. "Don't worry about that! It's just waterproof." Simeon says, his smile still kind and bright as he stands up and motions you to follow. He leads you out of his office, leaving Luke in it as he takes you to go get your uniform and badge. You take the bag containing your clothes and ID, smiling at Simeon before you speak up,

"Thank you, sir!" You begin with a soft smile, "Which part of the lab will I be working?" You miss it but a dark look crosses Simeon's face as he softly smirks.

"I'll take you down there now!" Simeon responds as he motions you to follow again. As you walk with him, you notice he's taking you to a darker part of the building, it somewhat looks hardly used. He stops you at an elevator and digs out a badge, using it to call the elevator. "Your department is top secret, as stated in your contract you can not talk about this work with anyone at all, we'll know if you do." He says, his voice having a somewhat dark undertone despite the soft smile on his face. "Now come along, the tour begins now!" Simeon states as the elevator door opens and he steps inside, you waste no time in following him.

You feel nervous the lower the elevator goes and decide to speak up, "So, why is the department I'm in on such a low floor?" You ask nervously with a small smile, trying to think of what kind of work you could be doing down here. You jump as the elevator stops with a thunk, not expecting the elevator to sound like, especially when the rest of the building is so modern and well-built.

"Well Mc, you will be a caretaker of sorts for our... subjects... I know it won't be too much for you to handle! They're sure to love you..." Simeon says as the dark look on his face is still present, but he still is smiling. You raise a brow, didn't A.M.L claim to not use animals as product and medicine testers? "This is the entrance hall, where you'll use your watch against that machine to clock in." He speaks softly as he points to a machine in front of the both of you. He walks forward and expects you to follow of course. Your eyes widened as you entered the next area; It was a long hallway of some sort, different testing chambers on either side. As you walk beside Simeon you aren't listening as he speaks about each room. Your heart is full of fear and dread as you see what, no, who they are testing on. In the testing room, before you stands a man with white hair in a lab coat, a sinister and sadistic look on his face as he uses a cattle prod to poke and taze a much taller man with black hair, his red eyes showing displeasure and disgust for the man prodding at him, he doesn't even flinch as he is tazed, no spasming or reaction at all came from him, his clothes were disheveled from the prodding though. That wasn't the weirdest part of the man, no it was the very pointy ears, the black horns coming from his head and the four wings coming from his back, all pitch black and some feathers clearly missing, whether it be from this kind of abuse or stress you can't tell.

"W-what the fuck?" You stuttered out as you stepped away from the glass on the testing chamber, not seeing the amused expression Simeon flashed your way.

"That is one of the nine subjects you will be looking after! His name is Lucifer, he is one of the best "demons" we have!" Simeon states as if he is just talking about the weather and not a fully grown man he's having his employees test on.

You stare at the dark-skinned male before you, a look of shock and fear across your face as you speak up in a confused but fearful voice, "Nine? Demons? Huh?" Just as you were about to continue before loud crashing, low growls, and yelling interrupted you; they came from down the hallway. Looking over revealed more "demons", specifically two certain ones fighting. One was a dark-tanned male, with slightly pointed ears, a full head of white hair, and blue eyes that had a golden-yellow gradient. He has horns that look somewhat like spirals atop his head, large bat-like wings come from his back and they flap violently. He's on top of the other male, throwing punches as different scientists try to pry him off the man below him. The male below him has pale skin, and what seems to be scales on it in certain places, he, like the two before him, has pointed ears, but his seemed to have two different pointed ends, somewhat like fish fins. His hair is a blueish-purple color and his eyes are a glowing orange with a purple gradient, the whites of his eyes seem to be a slight grey color. His horns look like coral and are a black color but have a hint of blue to them, he also seems to have a long lizard-like tail.

"Ah, Mammon and Leviathan are at it again. We'll have to punish them...again..." Simeon says, his tone showing distaste but amusement at the chaos around him as he ignores your comment. A door behind you opens and you turn to check it out, you are horrified at the man who stood behind you. He had to be about 7'5 in height alone, he was so muscular and well-built, with a muzzle around his mouth and his hands cuffed in front of him as he looked down at you with interest; he was sniffing you through the muzzle. His hair is a bright orange, his ears pointed but droopy, and he has purple eyes that seem to fade into magenta and then red, one of the whites of his eyes isn't white, but rather an inky black color. Scars litter across his body, along with weird black markings, he has black horns that curve and almost crown his head, fly-like wings coming from his back buzz softly as he continues to stare down at you. "Beelzebub! Now, Now, stop drooling into your muzzle at your new caretaker's scent! Mc this is Beelzebub, Beelzebub this is Mc, your new caretaker!" Simeon says to the towering male standing before them, who looks at Simeon with a somewhat blank expression, you can see some fear and pain in his purple eyes as he stares at Simeon.

"Wait a damn minute please!" You cry out to Simeon, finally catching his attention, and now Beelzebub, who watches you closely but with clear hesitance. "I can't possibly work here after seeing all of this! This is s-so.. so.. fucked up!" You said as you took several steps away from Simeon.

Simeon stopped smiling, his expression dark and serious as he spoke, "You don't have a choice, you signed a two-year contract with us. You're stuck here...unless you'd rather face certain consequences for trying to go against your contract." As he spoke the watch around your wrist tightened and its screen flashed red. By the look on Simeon's face, you knew the consequence of going against him would either be death or the same fate as the subjects you'll be in charge of.

"B-but- I-" You tried to protest but Simeon put a finger to your lips to hush you, a sinister smile on his own lips.

"Shhh, Mc. You already signed away your life to me." Simeon began to speak softly, but his eyes showed sadistic amusement at your internal conflict about all of this. "If this really had bothered you..." Simeon begins again, Beelzebub looks at you sadly and with pity as a guard begins to walk him back to his containment chamber, he can tell you're a good person who just got caught up in a bad situation, he can only hope you stay a good person in here. "Then you should have read the fine print." Simeon finished speaking with a cold smile as he looked down at you. Dread filled you completely, these two years weren't going to end well.

"Welcome to A.M.L, Mc. I can't wait to see all the good work you'll do."

(Well I'm not sure when I'll be able to work on chapter 2, I just started my psychology class, so I'll try my best to work on it when I can. Hope you enjoyed it! This is also posted on my AO3 account and shouldn't be anywhere else but here and there.)

[onepiece-polls]

One Piece Shipping War - Round 4 Quarter Finals

Propaganda under the cut.

Propaganda for Shanks x Buggy:

What if we were childhood friends who gave up our drama for each other then never saw each other again for years

What can I say, I'm a fellow shuggy truther too 🤝

Shanks obviously adores Buggy, and Buggy is so tsundure~! Mr 'I hate Shanks'-but-will-take-every-opportunity-to-talk-about-him-and-be-with-him.

Oden says in his journal that he can't tell if they're friends of enemies, and I just love that. Plus when you add in the revelation about Shanks and Buggy in the recent chapters.

They're childhood friends. They're exes. They've been married for 20 years. They're opposites. They're the same. They're silly goofy guys who make me want to cry my heart out. Red/Blue is always meant to be.

Buggy """""HATES""""" Shanks. This hate is so strong that he WILL yell at this red-haired bastard despite the fact that he is a coward, who is terrified of all the Emperors. Everyone thinks this is strange. However, when you grow up with said Emperor on the same boat, watching him stumble over his feet as he's trying to learn to use a sword, stuck scrubbing the whole deck because he was stupid enough to prank "Dark King" Rayleigh, and make that same stupid pouty face every time his Conqueror's Haki doesn't do anything because he is an itty bitty child, most of that fear gets pretty quelled. Also, that same fucker lost an arm because he's a DUMBASS and he deserves to be made fun of for it (not because Buggy is worried and missed him not at all no no Shanks is just DUMB and needs to be TOLD he is dumb more. But just by Buggy. Because Buggy has known his idiocy forever. He has earned the right to yell at this stupid, stupid Emperor for being a self-sacrificing fool and for giving away that stupid hat and... Wait, hang on, when did this bastard get hot!? WHAT THE FUC-) And Shanks just keeps smiling at Buggy and his antics because he has 100% been in love with him since they were children (his actions while they were on the Roger pirates are the DEFINITION of pigtail-pulling as flirting) and he is just happy to see that he's safe while being exactly the same larger-than-life clown he always knew. He would gladly give up his life of sluttery (that I am convinced this man has. Just look at how he exists) if Buggy would just agree to join his crew, but will not push him if he doesn't want to. He just loves his pretty clown from a distance and waits. TLDR: Buggy is mad that he's in love with Shanks and Shanks just likes existing with and/or annoying Buggy (they come as a pair). GOD I just love childhood friends to lovers bro. Just let the cabin boys kiss.

[Spoiler Warning] Red and Blue gays! Emperor husbands! Childhood friends to enemies to lovers!

Propaganda for Nami x Vivi:

Yes, Nami has a new girlfriend on every island, but her heart belongs to Vivi. Vivi in turn refuses to marry, because her heart belongs with a pirate ❤

THEY’RE LESBIANS! IN LOVE! another point: my friends who are watching OP for the first time came to me and asked “so Nami and Vivi… they’re gay right?” So it’s pretty apparent to even newcomers

I just think they’re neat! And in love. Nami gave up money for Vivi that’s True Love

Anyone who saw them can just tell they’re gay. Like Nami gave up money for her

They're one of the rare lesbian ships in op, they care for each other so much !!

Lesbians

Lesbians

They were so gay that Luffy offered to share food to cheer Nami up when they were separated.

i dare you to read Baroque Works through Alabasta without shipping them. the way Vivi and Nami are so affectionate with each other, and Vivi putting saving her nation on hold to get Nami healthy again ???

Lesbians

Let’s go lesbians!!!!! Ok but actually, I think Nami saw a lot of herself in Vivi (ha) especially when Igaram “died” and then throughout their journey together Nami really encouraged her to open up to the crew. Nami showed Vivi it was ok to ask for help just like Luffy showed her.

Vivi was Nami's gay awakening and you cant change my mind. Nami was in love with Vivi and Vivi def had some kind of feeling for Nami. They were so close and they were more then just 'gal pals'

Lesbian Pirate Supremacy! they clearly care a lot about each other and considering when nami meets vivi she is probably one of the first close female friends she gets to have.

[fruitviking]

Fic ending tag game

Rules: post the last sentence/s from your 10 most recently posted fics (less if you don't have 10 is also fine)!

1. Nothing Without My Boswell

He closed the door behind us, and there was peace.

2. The Hound of Baskerville

Either way, you’ll hear from me again in the next few days.

John.

3. Sherlock Holmes and the Musgrave Crown

In that perfectly ordinary, ordinarily perfect moment, far from magical crowns or secret riddles or anything else, I was content.

4. Up In Our Bedroom After The War

“I did.” The song pauses while Holmes shifts beneath him. “I felt it was all I could offer.”

“You didn’t have to offer anything.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” says Holmes, holding him tighter.

5. The Case of the Feline Incursion

Holmes looked up. “What is it?”

“Nothing, my dear fellow. I was only thinking that we may no longer be able to accurately call ourselves bachelors.”

6. Watson is a Time Lord

I spent the day out and about on various errands, knowing Holmes required seclusion and solitude in his hours of intense mental concentration, and returned that evening to a sitting room immersed in a thick miasma of tobacco smoke.

Thankfully, not being human, I can avoid having to breathe when absolutely necessary.

7. In Another Life

“I would hardly call this imprisonment!” I am laughing now, too. “But if that is so, how long is my sentence? How many years do I have left?”

Holmes leans down to murmur in my ear. “How many would you like, dear fellow?”

I turn my head so I can look him in the eye. “As many as we have, I think.”

8. Scenes from a Sussex Garden

Reverently, Watson folded back the veil of the beekeeping hat and leaned in for a soft kiss. Somewhere overhead a blackbird trilled. He clasped both Holmes’s hands in his, their fingers intertwined, their new wedding bands clinking together gently.

They were made of gold, but there were sparks.

9. Another Day

If all Holmes wants to do is sit quietly and listen to the bees at the windows and the cows in the distant fields, well. Watson is only too happy to oblige him.

It certainly beats running for their lives. This is a beautiful place to be.

10. Across the Watsonverse

“Right you are.” Watson nodded, all business once again, and began to follow me out of the tent. On the way we met with the extremely confused man who ran the shooting gallery game, but neither of us hung about very long to answer his questions. I expect he thought the machinery had exploded; it certainly appeared that way.

- - -

Tagging @blistering-typhoons, @amypihcs, @rudbeckiasunflower, @jeremys-come-to-bed-eyes, @teaspoonnebula, and whoever else wants to take part!

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Scaredy-Shroom

Debut: Plants vs. Zombies

Here is Scaredy-Shroom! A very humble fellow, who I love very much. Scaredy-Shroom is scared, as you likely know. He is frightened, uncomfortable in the given situation. And as someone easily scared, I can relate to this! Especially when I was younger and even more easily scared! When I first heard about Plants vs. Zombies, I thought "Zombies? I don't want to see that!" and assumed it had to be a Scary Game. And now kids are growing up as Scary Freddy The Scare Bear fans. I would not have done well as an iPad Kid. BUT ANYWAY!

Scaredy-Shroom may be scared. But he is courageous! Arguably. I don't think he would be fighting zombies if he was not planted by the player. But he's here, and he does a good job, even if he is scared! I am proud of him. He has a low sun cost, respectable damage, and infinite range! He DOES cower under his cap if zombies are too close, but it is a small setback, and you owe it to him to keep him feeling safe, after all he's done for you!

While he does a good job at night, there is really no point to using Scaredy-Shroom during the day. He'll be asleep, so you'll need to use Coffee Bean to wake him up, and at that point you've spent as much as you would have on a Peashooter! And Peashooter does not cower and stop shooting at any point! I think this is okay, though. Scaredy-Schroom doesn't need to be a miracle worker. He is very stressed and needs his sleep. Look, his cap is even shaped like a pointed sleeping cap, a little! He is so cute.

Have you heard the news? It's part of why I'm making this post! Scaredy-Shroom was NOT in PvZ2 for a very long time, but just recently, after about 10 years, was added back! At first, I was hesitant about the slight redesign, specifically the cap. This is no longer a pointed hat, but instead has a jagged, seemingly broken bottom! I really do wonder if this was intentional, or a misinterpretation of the original design. Oh well! I have decided I like it, and looking kind of disheveled fits his character! He doesn't have arms to do it with, but it makes me think of him rubbing or picking at his cap when nervous, like I fiddle with my hair. He's just like me!

So? Was Scaredy-Shroom's big return worth the wait?

No, it was not! Scaredy-Shroom is, simply, just Not That Good. In the first game's night levels, he is good! He has his use and the game is built around that! But in 2, an unbalanced game with even more difficult zombies, as well as a steady stream of new and extremely powerful plants being added, he just does not have what it takes. They DID give him extra defense when hiding, but it's really not nearly enough. Indeed, Scaredy-Shroom in PvZ2 is not very good.

And I wouldn't have it any other way!

Like I've been saying, Scaredy-Shroom is, in the first game, useful in some levels, and nearly useless in others. He isn't SUPPOSED to be overpowered, or even strong! If he was, that wouldn't be Scaredy-Shroom! I can understand people being disappointed with his weakness in 2, but as someone who no longer plays it, I'm just happy to see him finally in a game again, and with a neat new design. Ideally, he would have been in the base game with campaign levels designed for his strengths, but it is too late for that.

In a way, it's good that he probably won't get used much. It gives him time to relax. I'll just let Scaredy-Shroom speak for himself here:

"How did I get talked into this? I wish I was at home."

[dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you]

best friends to lovers destiel au fic recs list for @thetiredstuff :D

A Tale of Two Tropes by Amelia_Clark (E, 7k)

 “Am I going to regret this?” Cas asked from the passenger seat.

 They’d just pulled up outside Dean’s grandmother’s house, a tidy Craftsman bungalow painted a cheerful yellow. It didn’t look threatening; there was a porch swing with crocheted cushions and a cement statue of a goose on the porch. The goose was wearing a rain slicker and hat the same color as the house.

In this fic: fake dating, bed-sharing, the doting grandmother Dean Winchester never had, a cement goose with a wardrobe, a contemptuous cat, and a lot of sexual tension that's unresolved until it isn't.

As You Walk On By by MercyBraavos (E, 23k)

Dean and Castiel grew up together. Fell in love together. Lost their virginity together. Made plans for the future, their future, together. There’s only one problem:

Castiel doesn’t remember any of it.

Are We Any Different? by LeviathanBlue, SerpentCountess (T, 41k)

Cas adopts (steals) a cow.  Dean helps.

“Cas… There’s a… There’s a cow.  In my room.” “Yes, Dean.” “Why?” “Because.” "Right."

More Than Kisses by  FriendofCarlotta  (E, 29k)

1996: Dean joins his high school’s pen pal program as a last-ditch effort to keep from repeating the eleventh grade. But soon, the letters he trades with Castiel, a fellow high schooler from Chicago, become the most important constant of his life.

2005: Castiel has been in love with his pen pal Dean for years now. But he’s reluctant to upset the balance of their relationship, so when a new work opportunity takes him to Dean’s city, he keeps it a secret. Will these two ever find their way to each other?

things i knew when i was young by stormwarnings  (T, 16k)

Ok, so Castiel's in love with his best friend.

Which is what puts them here, in Dean’s car, eight hours into a nine and a half hour drive up north to bury Castiel’s mother on the grounds that he grew up on. Because it’s been eight years since Castiel cut ties with his family and left, supposedly for college, and there hasn’t been a word of communication since. Because Dean is, at his core, a good person and a better friend, and when he heard that Castiel’s mother had died and that he would need to return to his childhood home over Thanksgiving break, he knew enough to say he’d go with him.

This is, for sure, not helping Castiel get over his inappropriately persistent feelings.

(more under the cut)

Alright  by  turningthepages  (T, 46k)

Dean is a good kid living in a good town surrounded by good friends and good family. Castiel is the new kid in town and has never truly had a friend before.

Dean comes along and starts to change things for him.

To Build a Home by intothesilentland  (M, 383k)

Twenty-three years of head-over-heels, devastating devotion and love, love, love for the man with bright eyes and dark hair. Fourteen years of friends, best friends, of always together. One moment of rejection.

Nine years of apart. Nine years of heartbreak, nine years of continents away, of not speaking, of no acknowledgement, no interaction, no closure, no peace. No happiness. Nine years of Dean’s life entering motions, going through them, constant, cold and mechanic, like clockwork. Nine years of alone.

God. Nine years. A lot has changed. And yet Dean still loves Cas just the same. Even if his heart hurts all kinds of different.

On the day of Jimmy Novak's funeral, Dean sees Cas for the first time in nine years. He adored Castiel the moment he met him, at only four years old. But after fourteen years of friendship destroyed by one moment of heartbreak, and after nine years of silence, Dean is convinced Cas will want nothing to do with him. And it's killing him.

When In Vegas  by  Dmsilvis, TobytheWise (E, 16k)

Dean has figured out the most perfect prank. The prank to top every other prank. Ever. Getting his best friend drunk and then convincing him they’d gotten married in their drunken stupor was easy. Dealing with Castiel telling him he’s been in love with Dean for years? Well, that’s a different thing entirely.

Castiel wakes up married to the love of his life who he’s been secretly pining over for years. Now he just has to convince Dean that he’ll be the best husband ever, making sure Dean will never regret the decision he made that night.

Things take a terrible turn when Castiel finds out everything was a lie in the name of a prank just as Dean realizes how much he truly loves Castiel back. Will they be able to overcome this misunderstanding or was their relationship doomed before it even started?

The Ocean Between Us  by  noxsoulmate  (E, 27k)

Living a hermit life, Dean Winchester didn’t need much. The only things important to him were his position in the business that was once owned by his family, his boat, and his friendship with Castiel, Charlie, and Gabriel. If only there wasn’t a whole ocean between them, then maybe he could even give his feelings for Castiel a chance …

Room for Two (The Mattress AU) by  almaasi  (E, 14k)

✔ College roommates ✔ Buying a mattress together ✔ Faking a relationship to get a discount ✔ Sharing a bed ✔ Roleplaying as a couple to "test the bed" ✔ Fake kissing becomes real kissing ✔ Fake sex is Way Too Real ✔ Cuddling ✔ Wet dreams ✔ "Oh no I thought I was dreaming but it was real life" ✔ Matchmakers Sam & Charlie ✔ Cas seems kinda clueless but actually understands everything ✔ Mutual respect, support, and understanding ✔ Friends to lovers ✔ Mutual pining ✔ Go౦ԁ sHit        

Honey-Baked  by  mishaminion69, sydkn3e (E,  89k)

There's no ifs, ands, or buts about it...Cas is a weird, tactless, ornery guy. His idea of a job is selling weed out of their shared cabin, his idea of fun is occasional orgies, and he has more creepy dolls and crystals than anyone of their age ever should.

But he's also Dean's childhood best friend, and now he's the star of all Dean's wildest fantasies.

Then there's the whole "being in love with him" thing.

The Ones We Choose  by  lightmyway  (E, 82k)

After telling his family he’s gay, Castiel winds up homeless.   With the help of his best friend, Cas finds himself a home and a new family.  He also finds himself in love with his best friend.  A love that endures no matter the circumstances of their lives, even in the wake of Dean’s rejection.

Despite knowing how Cas feels, Dean clings to his best friend through the years.  In high school and college.  As roommates.  Through Cas becoming a firefighter and his own journey to become a business owner.  With shared time and space, Dean begins to see Cas in a new light.  His attraction grows, along with his feelings.

Letting those feelings spill out one night, Dean changes the trajectory of their lives.  As their relationship grows, they are confronted by Cas’s past and must relive a painful and damaging event in Dean’s life.  But it is the life-changing fire, which is their greatest challenge, making them face their deepest fears and test the strength of their love.

[4rainynite]

EAH Dorm Rooms Headcanons pt 22

Teachers Addition

It wouldn't be high school without the teachers and to teach the students passed down legacies.

A good majority of the adults went to Ever After High School and some even became teachers to teach the future generation.

At the end of the day teachers need a place to sleep and we get to see who roomed with who during their high school years.

The teachers' living quarters are between the boys and girls dorm and is smaller than the students' dormitory.

Like the students each room is design to fit the persons personality.

Headmasters Milton and Giles Grimm

Brothers Milton and Giles created Ever After High to teach the future fairy tales their storybook legacies. Overtime Giles notice how some destinies weren't equal even if some were happy ever afters. Giles purposed a way to make everyone happy, but Milton didn't agree. Still traumatized of almost losing Giles when they were children made him deadset on following the pre-determined fates and because he fears he'll lose power. There was a huge fight and Milton cursed his brother to speak Riddlish and banish him to the Vault of Lost Tales.

Being co-headmasters and founders of Ever After High School, Milton and Giles have the biggest rooms in the living quarters.

Milton's room is similar to his office: full of portraits of himself, full of awards, clean, expensive furniture, posh, with a canopy bed, and blue.

Giles's room is similar to the Vault of Lost Tales: messy, papers everywhere, books piled high, mix-matched furniture, and red.

When Milton cursed Giles the police investigated and closed his room up. Milton avoided the room at all crime to not feel guilt for what he had done to his brother.

When, Giles is free from his curse (he didn't get cured in Thronecoming) and Milton is arrested for his crimes, everyone predicts that Giles will throw away Milton's things. But, he doesn't. Giles lets it be, even after his brother's betrayel he refuses to touch the room.

Baba Yaga

Baba Yaga teaches home-evilnomics and facility advisor and though she sides with Headmaster Grimm with destiny she's less strict and willing to show sympathy for those who want change.

Baba Yaga doesn't need a room due to her living in her cottage/office with chicken legs so it changes locations and we've seen it plenty of times in the show.

Her cottage has Slavic designs, candles, spell books, potions, and she has a steering wheel to control the hut.

I believe Baba Yaga's cottage/office is like the shotgun houses from my home state Louisiana. For those who don't know what a shotgun house is it's a narrow house (front to back) and each room is divided for better examples: 1 2 3. The first section is her office, second potion making section, third kitchen, fourth bathroom, and last bedroom.

Mr. Breaker Badwolf

Breaker Badwolf was a student at Ever After High School where he studied (met the love of his life Ruby Hood and had a daughter) and now teaches General Villainy.

Breaker's room resembles a wolf's cave like his niece Ramona's room with rock formations, dim lighting, and leather furniture.

He seems like a hunter to me, so he has a collection of traps and snares in his room.

He keeps a two-way-book to speak with his with, photos of Ruby & Cerise, and letters from her hidden away in his room.

The White Queen

After, evacuating Wonderland due to the Evil Queen's curse, she and her fellow Wonderlanders escaped to Ever After. She got a job at Ever After High School as the new Princessology teacher.

Like all the Wonderlanders her room is messy, but in a organized chaos sort of way.

Her room is styled like a chessboard with Wonderland decor.

Maid Martha Marion

Maid Marion is the teacher of damsel-in-distress class and mother of Sparrow Hood.

Her cartoon and book appearance are drastically different in the show she looks like the perfect damsel while in the book she was described as:

Madam Maid Marian set a black bag under the desk, then removed her cone hat. Her hair was chestnut and cut in a short bob. She was fresh-faced, with no makeup. A few freckles dotted her wide nose and high cheekbones. She wore the colors of the forest, with a moss-green tunic and brown leggings. A pair of green feather earrings completed the woodsy look. Her suede boots looked super comfortable.

Appearances aside Unlike other damsels-In-distress she teaches her students to save themselves.

Her room is a hodgepodge of luxurious queen/ forest decor.

She definitely has exercise equipment and hunting gear like bows and arrows in her room.

Coach Gingerbreadman

Coachh Gingerbreadman is the gym teacher who encourages his students to run faster to avoid crazed bakers.

His room is more of a gym than a bedroom with a treadmill, weights, a rowing machine, and etc.

His room is mostly candy & gingerbread decor with trophies decorating the walls.

Evil Step-Librarians

Evil Step-Librarians (Stephanie and Sissy) are the librarians of the school, one is the mother of Prudence and Charlotte, and Cinderella's stepsisters.

While other staff members have their own room, they share one while at Ever After High School.

Their room has a gaudy luxury feel to it. Like everything cost of money but it looks cheaply made and tacky. And everything is bejeweled.

Since they're librarians the room has multiply bookcases with trashy romance novels.

Prof. Jack B. Nimble

Prof. Jack B. Nimble is the of tall tales and seems to be a popular teacher among the students.

Prof. Jack has a huge candle collection ranging from size, colors, and scents. He has the cleanest smelling room in the teachers' sleeping area.

As you can see by his desk most of the furniture in his room is candle themed.

Because of this the sprinkler system goes off in his room a lot (similar to Faybelle).

He also has a huge bookcase where he keeps a collection tale tales and poems.

Prof. Pied Piper

Prof. Alto Pied Piper is the music teacher and the father of Melody Piper.

His room is similar to the music classroom with many instruments and music books.

He keeps his Imperial Gold Turntables in his room when not using them in his class.

He has a mini fridge stocked with snacks for his pet rats.

He owns a huge collection of flutes and vinyl discs.

Rumpelstiltskin

Rumpelstiltskin teaches chemistry and is one of the least popular teachers in the school due making students spin straw to gold for extra credit.

His room is probably one of the messiest rooms in the teachers' living quarters and screams goblin core.

He has a spinning wheel that he uses to spin his own gold.

Momma and Papa Bear

Ursula and Bernard are a married couple so obviously they share a room together.

Their room is cottage core with bear cave elements.

Like their story sleep in separate beds since Poppa likes his mattress firm and Momma likes her mattress soft.

Ursula teaches cooking class so she has a ton of cookbooks and Bernard teaches beast training and keeps many cages and pet supplies in their room.

Their son, Teddy, sometimes visits them when not in class.

Author's note: We were robbed that they never appeared in the show!

Hagatha

Hagatha is the school's lunch lady who is infamous for her porridge which she adds artificial lumps to.

Can't really say too much about her so maybe insects motifs on her dress she has food and bug decor in her room.

Mrs. Trollsworth

Mrs. Trollsworth is the secretery and Headmaster Grimm's assistant in his schemes.

Being a troll, her room is messy with a mix of grandma parlor room decor.

Mr. Green Thumb - Is the groundkeeper/gardener, due to his small size he most likely has the smallest room in the teachers' living quarters. It most likely full of gardening equipment and indoor plants.

Prof. Card - Prof. Card with the other Wonderlanders evacuated after the Evil Queen's curse, he is the current art teacher at Ever After High School. His room is full of art supplies and has a few weapons since he was a guard.

Prof. Knight - Prof. Knight teaches Hero Training and is one of the oldest teachers in the school who still remembers the art of knighthood. His room is decorated with suits of armor, swords, and horse decor.

Well, that's all the staff at Ever After High School!

[pinkarsonist0]

I'm watching the Craig of The Creek movie rn, and oh my God, MY SCOUT BABIES IT'S THEM.

Spoilers for Craig Before The Creek below:

WHOSE THAT GURL WITH THEM IS SHE LIKE LIKE AN OLDER SISTER/MENTOR TO THEM. OKAY, SO SHE'S CLEARLY A FELLOW SCOUT AND WOULD BE LIKE A MENTOR TOWARDS THEM.

Based on how Boris held her hand and the way Jason smiled at her comment towards getting the friend group name correct, that could be to imply they were rather close to her. Especially Boris. I doubt they're related by blood or law. However, I do think they had a big sister bond with her when they became scouts. According to Google, you can be a scout as young as kindergarten to 5th grade, and the oldest you can be a scout is 18.

My headcanon is that she is the reason why the scouts started going to the creek, and she would show them around it and guide them, I get a very strong older sister vibe from her. Much like Mari from Omori, let's hope she didn't play the piano...

I don't know how many years the movie takes place before the movie (at least not yet). However, I stirred up some guesses. Jason seems to be 10-11 in the show like Craig, so based on how young the scouts look, my guess will have to be that they are 6-7 years old (possibly 8 years old for Boris). So, 3-4 years before the show.

Imo, Jason seems to be happier in that scene, and in my opinion, Jason in the show isn't a very happy child if we exclude certain scenes. So, assuming the theory that Jason's mother is dead is true, we can assume the movie takes place before the tragedy.

In conclusion, this is what I stirred up for Jason (after the movie and before the show): I still have my headcanon that Jason's mother cheated on Jason's father, rooting their divorce. Jason's clearly upset by this as he begins seeing his mother a less, and his father is growing distant. However, he still had the girl we see in the movie for guidance and comfort. I do think that Jason was still pretty lonely in his childhood, so when his parents weren't around, he had her to act as an older sister for him.

But then, tragedy strikes, and Jason's mother is dead. Life begins to suck more for Jason, he now lives with just his dad and now he's straight up ignoring him and only remembers he exists in order to brag about Jason's achievements as a Forest Scout and to top it off he drags in Jason's step mother. And she clearly doesn't like him as much.

But at least he still has-

Oh, she's leaving too.

Jason's sister figure ages out of being a scout and leaves, leaving him to handle his new home situation.

I still think that Boris and the girl were the closest to each other and meant the most to each other. I think she loved them like little brothers and she loved showing around the new Forest Scouts and showing them the ropes. But Jason, Boris, and Tony stuck out to her THE MOST. She acted as an older sister to the younger scouts and maybe even stood up for them when the fellow older scouts were teasing them. She loved the scouts like little brothers, but time caught up with her, and she could no longer be a scout.

I love overanalyzing so much, you have no idea. I missed my scouts so much but now that they're back I can do SO MUCH WITH THEM NOW AHH

Also, do not think I didn't see the girl and (present) Tony having similar hats. Imma just go crazy with that and make the headcanon that she gave Tony that hat when she left. (I know her hat is a little different, but let me have fun).

And another thing, maybe she's the camp counselor we see in Camper On The Run. They have a lot of physical similarities, I need to see the episode again after watching the movie.

Edit:Just got done watching the movie, and the credits confirm that girl is the woman we see looking for Roxy in Camper On The Run and that she was indeed a fellow scout. Shannon is credited as Shannon the Scout rather than just Shannon. So, this could be a lead for my theory/headcanon being true. Someone on the COTC subreddit said that in the movie, Kelsey says she is in the second grade, and she is 9 in the show, so that would mean that the movie takes place 2 years before the show.

Now, let's get back to Shannon with this new information. The youngest to become a camp counselor is 16 and when I googled the age you can no longer be a scout I got multiple answers, but the most common one is 18. So we are safe to assume that Shannon left at 17-18 aka the estimate for when a Junior Forest Scout can no longer be a scout. I assume Shannon is 15-16 at the time of the movie and left at 17-18. So we can assume Shannon is probably 18-20 at the time of Camper On The Run.

Since she went to the creek, I wonder if she got to see Boris, Tony, and Jason again briefly. I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE A FIC WITH ALL THEM PLEASE.

[maarriiii]

Simp (Part 2) | Wilbur Soot

A/N: Oh wow, thank you so much for all the love for the first chapter!!! It means a lot. Also, i have another fic called Happy (Sad) New Year if you’re interested in seeing. And another thing is that I might update this series weekly.

Summary: You might have a crush on Tommy’s cute tall friend with the glasses.

Pairing(s): CC!Wilbur Soot x gender neutral!reader, CC!Wilbur Soot x actor!reader.

Warning(s): None.

italics: streams

my masterlist :))

~~

After your Twitter interaction with TommyInnit, The same thing happened again, funnily enough, was with a friend of Tommy’s and fellow streamer. You recognized him from the first vlog you’ve watched of Tommy’s, the cute tall one with the glasses. Wilbur Soot was his name or at least that was what people called him. Again, your fans tagged you in various posts, moments caught from his stream. In one of those clips, he jokingly banged his fist on his desk.

“That was suppose to be me, chat! I like them first! It’s not fair. Tommy keeps rubbing it on my face.”

There was another one where he talked about when he first liked you.

“I found this soundtrack, right, chat. And it was from this movie. I searched it up, watched it and just immediately it became one of my favourite films. They played one of the characters in it and I found out they wrote a song from the soundtrack that coincidentally is my favourite.”

The thing that got you though was when he complimented your singing and writing in the song that you wrote. You remembered being scared shitless for that particular role for two reasons. One, you never sang in front of that many people before and it made you nervous. Two, although you loved writing songs—you have a journal filled with unfinished songs—you didn’t think you had the ability to write one that was vital to your character’s arc.

“They have a very good voice in my opinion, no, a great voice actually. And that specific song was quite relatable for me—I’m pouring my heart out here, chat, and here you are calling me a simp. Fine, go ahead, call me a simp. I don’t care. Maybe I am a simp. What about it, chat?”

You thought it was really sweet how he thinks of you and you couldn’t help the slight fluttering in your heart and the butterflies in your stomach when his fans tell him that he has a crush. Also his cute smile didn’t help at all with the sensation growing inside you. Honestly, you could just watch a video of him smiling over and over again.

For days, you keep thinking about him which was frustrating and exciting in some way. You felt like a teenager again, crushing on a boy that smiled at you in passing. You haven’t told anyone about it, knowing that everyone was going to tease you if they knew and would try to convince you to reach out to him. You wanted to, badly even, but life in the spotlight has its ups and downs. You don’t want the paparazzi to be crowding and violating this man’s private life just for the sole reason of trying to find out who you might be dating next.

You were scrolling down YouTube again, filling the time as you sat down in the hair and makeup trailer, when you came across a band. From experience, artists you found on YouTube most of the time was your cup of tea so you clicked on the video titled ‘Taunt’ by Lovejoy. The already enjoyable song got more enjoyable when you saw the familiar face that had been invading your mind. You eyes grew wide, your head no longer bopping, and finally that feeling in your heart returned.

“Don’t smile too much. I’m doing your powder.” One of the makeup artist spoke, moving a brush across your cheeks.

“Oh shit, sorry Sloane.” Yet, you smiled again as the video plays out.

Sloane smirked, looking at your phone screen. “Know one of ‘em? Is that why you’re smiling all of the sudden?”

“I know that tone.” You glared at the older woman beside you. “And yes, I do know one of them if you must know.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the glasses and the hat. The tall one.”

Sloane leaned closer. “He’s cute.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I can see why you’re into him.”

“I did not say that I like him.”

“You didn’t have to.” Sloane pointed the brush she was holding at your face. “Your smile already did.”

~~

When you realized Wilbur Soot have a band, the obvious choice was to go on a rabbit hole of listening to their entire discography. It took a few listens but their songs grew on you and eventually made their way into your various playlists—some grew annoyed listening to you repeating their songs. Now that you found a perfect opportunity to try and talk to Wilbur, the only thing that’s left was the execution. You didn’t want to make it too obvious that you’re trying to reach this guy. You could only imagine the article they would write about and you didn’t need to be ask about “a mystery guy” when doing press junkets later on.

“What are you scared of? You’re just posting about this band that you like. You’ve done it a million times.” You said, trying to calm yourself.

With one last inhale and exhale, you began typing. Your heart beating vigorously with each letter that you pressed. It was incredibly ridiculous how nervous you were. You kind of wished someone was there to give you some emotional support but alas you were alone in your trailer.

“Okay, that’s good enough, I think. Not too long, not too short. All that’s left to do is post it.”

Your thumb hovered over the button, still contemplating whether or not this was the right choice. Maybe you should’ve chosen the lowkey route. Just slide into his DM’s like many of your friends did. What if he doesn’t see it? What if he doesn’t interact with it the way his friend Tommy did? What if he turns out to be an absolute dick? The possibilities were endless.

When the waiting and the doing absolutely nothing began eating you out, you decided it’s now or never.

“Fuck it.” You closed your eyes, pressed the button and the deed was done.