#happy teenage years horse show

[batshaped]

so what if my head's in the clouds... maybe that's where it belongs!

[hauntingrabbits]

Happy Batman day! Went back and finished the last batch of the MLP AU I had sketched way back in May.

Part 1, Part 2

More info under the cut!

Enigma/The Riddler (Edward Nygma)

Intelligence and puzzle-solving are deeply valued among sphinxes, and those who fall short of their standards are often ridiculed and cast out. Among some (prejudiced) Sphinxes, other sapient, non-Sphinx species such as ponies are looked down-upon or seen as fundamentally inferior for not putting as much stock in puzzles and the like as sphinxes do.

Enigma, though considered a prodigy for his remarkable intelligence and skill with puzzles even among his fellow Sphinxes, was ostracized when a pony unfamiliar with Sphinx culture (a younger Sundown traveling Equestria for his training), humiliated Enigma by unraveling a puzzle of his that was meant to be judged as his final submission in a prestigious event, permanently staining his reputation and wounding his massive ego.

After years of quiet ridicule from his peers and his own growing obsession over the event, Enigma eventually snapped and fled to Gotham for revenge. His contempt has since spread far beyond that of the original pony he wished to prove his superiority over, and he now makes all of Gotham the target of his obsessive schemes, constantly trying to prove his superiority and feed his ego by putting ponies through his elaborate puzzles and riddle-based traps. He sees Batpony’s skill and determination in foiling him as both an inherent challenge to and a slight against his own abilities, reminding him far too much of that original pony from so long ago. 

Other notes:

-Apparently sphinxes in MLP have pony heads instead of human heads which makes sense I guess but it threw me through such a loop man.

-Whilst traversing the wiki I ended up with the same problem I had with chimeras in the first post where only one ever shows up in the series and there's no other info on them. So I made stuff up again.

- I imagine Sphinxes live a very long time, so the event Enigma was embarrassed at would probably take a long time to roll around again and he'd be forced to stew with his anger and wounded ego for far too long. I'm not sure what the puzzle was exactly or how Sundown dismantled it, but I imagine he did something extremely simple that a Sphinx would never have thought of (a la that software engineering joke), making it feel far more unfair and humiliating than if he'd solved in the intended way.

-His naturally crooked tail settles into the shape of a question mark, and the pattern on his arm is meant to look like a stylized question mark wrapping around his forearm (the "dot" is the white of his paw).

2. Miss Friday (Miss Tuesday)

Enigma’s teenaged assistant, Miss Friday seems to be the only pony the sphinx enjoys (or perhaps simply tolerates) the company of. Beyond her having met Enigma in Tartarus during their simultaneous imprisonments, the exact origins of her relationship to and exceptional status with her boss are a bit of a riddle in of themselves. Regardless, the two seem to have something of a mutual understanding, and Miss Friday’s mental prowess and dubious moral code are more than a match for Enigma’s own.

Other Notes:

-Yes this is a "The horse's name was Friday" joke. I'm sorry it was just too good to pass up.

-Miss Tuesday already sounded like a MLP name, but the horse named Friday thing was just too perfect for somebody who works under a guy who's whole thing is riddles. Also I relistened to the BTAA episode where she's introduced while coloring her and I noticed they reference His Girl Friday several times, so fun coincidence?

-The candy-striped leg patterns are based on her canon costume's striped pants & are meant to mirror the Riddler's wrapped leg pattern. The dark patterns on her face are supposed to be reminiscent of eye bags.

3. Mania (Bat-Mite)

Bat-Pony’s self-proclaimed biggest fan, Mania is a Draconequus embodying the spirit of obsession. Normally he watches the hero from his own dimension, but at times he tries to insert himself into the narrative or help Sundown fight, both to varying degrees of success. Though he genuinely adores Bat-Pony, Mania is usually more of a hindrance than a help, and can even be directly antagonistic at times when his obsession goes too far. 

Other notes:

-Similar issue to Chimeras and Sphinxes, only two Draconequuses (Draconequui?) show up in the series, one being Discord (embodying chaos), the other being a comics-only villain known as Cosmos (embodying malice), but honestly what little we're given worked super well for the character anyway. Discord seems to come from his own unique plane of existence/dimension and Cosmos has similarly strange origins; both have penchants for causing mischief with incredible reality-warping powers; and both embody non-physical concepts. Bat-Mite being a reality warping 5th dimensional creature obsessed with Batman was surprisingly easy to adapt.

-He has the head of a pony, a ferret-like body, two front rat paws, mite antennae, an insectoid wing, a bat wing, a pigeon foot, a chevrotain (mouse deer) foot, and a monkey tail. I tried to have him mostly made up of animals that were very small, seen as mischievous, and/or seen as pests.

4. Poison Ivy (Pamela Isley)

Said to be more plant than pony, Poison Ivy is the self-proclaimed princess of the Green. Though once a regular Earth pony, she began to spiral after receiving her cutie mark and fully coming into her powerful natural attunement to plant life. Fleeing into the nearby forests on the outskirts of Gotham, she wasn’t seen again until many years later when Gotham’s city refurbishment and expansion efforts began to encroach on the forests borders, where she reemerged with strange new powerful magic and retaliated violently.

Though she isn’t recognized politically or physically as an alicorn, plants grow from the flesh of her body in the pattern of a horn and wings characteristic of those born into or bestowed with royalty, and the strange natural magic that accompanies them seems to almost rival that of a true alicorn’s.

Other notes:

-I dont really have anything to add to this one I just thought a false alicorn would be a cool concept.

-the whole alicorn royalty thing is very strange to think about isnt it? I feel like the ruling class having such insane amounts of physical and magical power probably has much more pressing ramifications than ever was, would, or should be addressed in a kids show but they are fun to think about.

-Her actual name is Poison Ivy, yes. It sounded like a pony name. I don't know what that says about her parents.

-The leaf wings are folded down in the graphic but I think they are flighted, or at the very least useful for gliding and expressing emotions.

5. Saltbrine (Oswald Cobblepot)

Short, stout, and flightless, Saltbrine’s moniker of “The Penguin” has its origins in the taunts of his peers from his youth. Though the title has persisted into the current day, it’s often spoken with far more fear and trepidation throughout the alleys and backstreets of Gotham than ridicule. Saltbrine owns two of Gothams most well-known businesses, one being the luxurious, high-class Iceberg Lounge…and the other being the organized crime syndicate the former acts as a front for.

Other notes:

-Again don't have much to add to this one. One of my favorite designs though, I love the giant beak face.

-The bird half is actually based on a puffin, because a penguin felt too on the nose for Oswald and too strange for a hippogriff (I couldn't get the wings or face to look right at all either). I feel like the title being an insult works a little better if he's not literally half-penguin.

-he's the same color my club penguin avatar used to be (RIP)

[corroded-hellfire]

Ok I feel like As You Wish!Eddie would be obsessed with that part in Enter Sandman where like he says the lines like “Now I lay me down to sleep” just to have his kids or reader repeat them back in like the innocent voice

Eddie lives his life by Metallica songs and teaches his children to do the same

Words: 1.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Alright pipsqueak,” Eddie says, gently tugging on the toe of Eliza’s purple footie pajamas as he passes where she sits between her brothers on the couch. “Bedtime.”

“No!” Eliza says, quickly rolling over a hundred eighty degrees so she’s laying on her tummy and buries her face in the couch cushion. 

“Yes,” Eddie says. He scoops the remote up from the coffee table and presses the off button, effectively ending Shrek 2. “Come on. Go brush your teeth, little girl.”

Luke stares at his father and gestures to the television, as if to say we were watching that too, man. Rolling his eyes, Eddie tosses the remote into his younger son’s lap.

“Eliza Marie Munson,” Eddie says.

With a huff to show her father her displeasure, the three-year-old pushes herself off the couch and disappears down the hallway. Luke flicks the television back on and the last thing Eddie hears as he follows his daughter down the hallway is his teenage sons laughing at Puss in Boots coughing up a hairball. 

“Ah, ah, with the toothpaste.” Your voice floats out of the bathroom into the hallway, making Eddie chuckle as he passes and keeps walking into Eliza’s room. 

Deciding to mess with the feisty little firecracker, Eddie snatches up her favorite stuffed pig and lounges on his daughter’s too-short bed. It’s only a few minutes later that Eliza’s heavy tread can be heard coming down the hallway, the heavy footsteps baffling for such a small girl. The moment she crosses the threshold into her room, Eliza’s face scrunches up and her tiny shoulders rise up toward her ears.

“Hey!”

“Is for horses,” Eddie answers.

You’re two steps behind Eliza and the moment you see Eddie on the bed you chuckle to yourself. The Little Terror is about to be unleashed. 

“My bed!” Eliza launches herself up on top of her father, causing him to let out an oof as she lands on his stomach. “My Penelope!” Small hands go to grab the stuffed pig but Eddie’s quicker, moving the plush animal behind his head to use as a pillow.

“Wow, kid, you really need to learn to share,” Eddie says.

A long exhale blows from Eliza’s nose, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say it was a growl. Scooting her body up Eddie’s chest, your daughter rests her forehead against her father’s, giving him the most intimidating look she can manage. She probably doesn’t realize that to Eddie it now just looks like she has one giant eye, though. Hardly intimidating–even for the toddler. 

“Did you give night-night kisses?” Eddie asks.

“Penelope,” is Eliza’s only reply.

“I’ll give you Penelope the Pig back once you give everyone goodnight kisses.”

Sitting up straight, Eliza eyes her father skeptically. When he raises his eyebrows at her, she must decide to believe him because she slides from his chest and lands on her carpet with a thud. 

“Ryaaaaaan! Luuuuuuke!” Her calls echo down the hall as she runs, the shouts accompanied by the loud thumping of her feet as she picks up speed. 

“And you wonder why she’s a menace,” you say to your husband, tilting your head at him as you lean against the door jamb. 

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re implying,” your husband answers, giving you the most innocent doe eyes he can manage. 

Before you can come up with a response, Eliza rushes past you, back into the room. She skids to a stop and spins on her covered feet to face you.

“Kiss, Mama!”

Happy to oblige her, you scoop her up in your arms and press kisses all over her face. Her giggles are infectious as she tries to dodge your lips, protesting that this is an overload of kisses. She gives you a quick squeeze around the neck and you can’t help but notice how she’s feeling heavier in your arms these days. It makes a part of you sad, remembering when she was small enough to lay in the crook of your elbow. 

Eliza wriggles out of your grip and makes her way back over to her bed. Her lower lip juts out in a pout and she bats her dark eyelashes at her dad. 

“Can I have Penelope now pleeeeease?” she asks in her sweetest voice.

“I guess so.” 

Eddie pushes himself off the child’s bed and hands his daughter the stuffed pig. He presses a kiss to her head and tucks her in as she snuggles beneath her blankets. 

“Okay, ready for prayers?” Eddie asks.

“Ready.” Eliza snuggles back against her pillow, clasps her hands together in front of her, and closes her eyes.

“Now, I lay me down to sleep.”

“Now, I lay me down to sleep,” your daughter repeats, making you smile.

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to keep.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“If I die before I wake.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Pray the Lord my soul to take.”

“Good job.” Eddie leans down and kisses her. “Goodnight, Sweet Pea.”

“Nighty night, Daddy.”

Quietly, you slip from the room, Eddie right behind you. He flips the light switch, turning off her overhead light and activating her Mulan nightlight. Gently, he closes the door behind him, and the two of you pad down the hall towards your room.

“You think Wayne will ever catch on that’s from a Metallica song and not your devotion to God?” you ask, a smirk dancing on your lips. 

“Not if someone keeps her mouth shut,” Eddie says, grabbing your sides and digging his fingers into them. Giggles erupt from you as you push his hands away and stumble into your shared room.

“Hush little baby, don't say a word,” you recite the next line of the song, walking backwards towards your bed. “And never mind that noise you heard.”

Eddie cocks an eyebrow at you as he slowly saunters forward, coming closer to you.

“It's just the beasts under your bed,” you continue. “In your closet, in your head.”

“Yeah, well,” Eddie says, smirk on his face growing, “you’re about to have a beast in your bed.”

A soft yelp shoots out of you with a bout of laughter as Eddie tackles you down on the bed. He climbs on top of you and presses kisses all over your face, just like you’d done to Eliza. 

“Oof, she’s right,” you say. “Too much.”

“Oh, really?” Eddie teases. He scoffs and pretends to climb off of you. 

With a roll of your eyes, your fingers grip into the front of his t-shirt and you pull him back down on top of you.

“Get back here, altar boy.”

[wufflesvetinari]

ok fine, wyllstarion rec list

the demons bade me write this. i have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings and a fabulous bookmarks list. come with me....and you'll be.......in a world of pure wyllstarion nation

note that this is like. an intermediate/advanced, 201-level list. i am trusting you, and assume you've already read asidian's body of work. you've read nothing is safe. you're reading Nothing Like the Sun &etc. Really anything that appears on the first two pages when sorting by bookmarks/kudos is disqualified due to pre-recognized excellence. (you could, however, go read them again)

are you back? good. now read:

"We Happy Few" - @geometea. listen to me. listen. i am looking deeply into your eyes. read this fucking fic. it's hard to shill without spoiling anything, BUT: wyll is a still-pacted grand duke. he used to have a bunch of unresolved romantic tension with astarion and now hasn't spoken to him for 15 years. now take that premise and add body horror, beautiful ominous surreal images, and SURPRISE BIG EMOTIONS. just trust me on this one, guys

"Crossed Blades" - @rebelontherocks. this is a...i think i have to call this a cozy sex romp. wyll and astarion are married, wyll is a busy duke, astarion needs more enrichment, astarion invents a very silly sex game by roleplaying teenage-wyll's smut books. wyll is So Deeply Into It. i love this fic for its characterization, its banter, and its commitment to paralleling character psychology to what sounds like an absolutely wild in-universe smut series (that is sketched with an impressive amount of detail and care tbh??).

"Comfort" - @acephalouscreature. short and sweet. wyll is injured and everyone expects astarion to take care of him. luckily, astarion has a dastardly plan to fake feelings for wyll by thinking about his feelings for wyll. you sure fooled them, astarion!! also featuring: astarion trying to figure out how to comfort someone by thinking about horses

"False Compare" - @jellyfishline. i'd recommend checking out their work generally, but i fell in love with this one first. wyll writes a sonnet! astarion is mean about it until he isn't! deeply in-character with an emphasis on how each of them communicates affection. gorgeous prose

"how to escape the torment nexus" - @ushauz. this series is incredibly unique, set in a fucked-up bad end where wyll is a lemure, astarion is still on the run from cazador, and almost everyone else is dead. where this really shines imo is wyll's POV: he's been through literal hell, doesn't remember his life, and is wading through his unconscious attachment to astarion like a foreign language. (side note also read Heart of Stone for a great lae'zel character piece)

"An Acorn in the Moonlight" - @anonyhex. this is one of the first wyllstarion fics i ever read and it has a special place in my heart!! it's particularly cathartic to read for Wyll reasons, including him actually getting to Have Emotions about what Ulder put him through. and they are so sweet with each other!!

"temporal displacement" - @purplecatghostposts. ok this came out like. yesterday but listen, i LOVE outsider pov of an astarion who's learned to show affection somewhat, seen from the eyes of someone who doesn't know his history and has no reason to suspect All Of That. and when that "outsider" is a dying 20-year-old wyll who just saw astarion step out of a time portal. well.

"nothing to make a song about" - @grey-wardens. for when you want something meaty and casefic-adjacent, set in a post-canon where wyll is the blade and not the duke (for once). contains bonding on the road, getting romantically snowed in together, and Symbolic Fetch-Quests.

i am also watching closely: "One of Those Prince-Types" by @lesbianralzarek and "sigh no more" by @tomorrowsrain. both are one chapter in and promise to be meaty, with execution that already feels very very promising

SPECIAL MENTION TO "Like Death (or Birth)" by The_Dancing_Walrus, which has some fraught implied background wyllstarion and is just generally completely baller. astarion kind-of sort-of accidentally adopts yenna, who got fucked up by her time as a potential sacrifice to bhaal. it works! i promise it works

[renren-006]

Sleepovers | Geralt x Fem Reader

plot: geralt finaly came home to you again

tags: fluff, soft, love

word count: 513

a/n: hey guys, just a short little story for you guys!!

Sleeping next to Geralt was not only a luxury but also something that calmed you. He took up most of the bed but you were more than happy to snuggle into bed with him, be allowed as little space next to him if it meant being with him. He would come home to you when he could, meaning every few weeks his bed would thumbs down on the stoop and he would open the door to find you already rushing down the stairs to him, a grin plastered on your face. He loved seeing your smile when that door opened, and he loved when you would leap over the threshold of the door into his arms, not caring how smelly or how covered in dirt he was. 

Those nights and days of him being home you always savored, but you more so welcomed the crumbed bed with him. You welcomed the heat besides you, the unknowing need he had for you, and you welcomed the sleepless nights next to him. 

“Darling, are you going to stare at me all night?” he asked you, causing your hands to falter from tracing his face in his sleep, although turns out he wasn't asleep. He peeked one eye open at you causing you to smile. “How often do you watch me sleep”

“Every night your back home with me” you told him, laying down eye to eye with the man you loved

“Every night” he smiled. 

“Every night, till the sun peeks through the curtains' ' you told him, glancing over him towards the window. It showed the landscape outside, the winding hills and the towns lights dancing between them. You lived just on the outskirts, just far enough away that you two had your own space. You wanted to live here, in this place with vast plains and hills and no demons or other creatures for Geralt to worry about when he left. This was the one place in the world that had proven to be safe for thousands of years. It was rumored that tree sports or feries blessed the lands and made them safe for special humans to live here, and that has been true. Everyone that found and created a home here had some form of gift, Geralt and his abilities and you…and your way with animals. Roach made it very well known how much he preferred you over his companion. Geralt refused to listen whenever you would cast the bond to him so he could hear the horse talk. Roach, now in the little barn next to your house, was sound asleep after the long journey back. 

“Tell me where you have traveled to this time?” you asked him, wanting to fall asleep to his stories. 

“Bedtime story my darling?” he asked you, knowing for the years the two of you had been married that you enjoyed every story he told you, and every sleepover you two had since you were teenagers. 

“Always” you said sleepily, snuggling into him so he could talk in your ear about the world beyond the valley. 

[violentvaleska]

𝑨𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔

ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ ᵈᵉˢᵖᵃⁱʳ

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ʟᴇᴠɪ ᴀᴄᴋᴇʀᴍᴀɴ x ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴀ ᴅʀᴜɴᴋᴇɴ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪɢɢᴇsᴛ ᴇxᴘᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʟʟs ʏᴇᴛ ᴛᴜʀɴs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sɪɴғᴜʟ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: sᴍᴜᴛ, ᴅᴏᴍ/sᴜʙ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴛᴏɴᴇs, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs: ↫ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜs ɴᴇxᴛ ↬

ғᴀɴғɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3

ᴛᴀɢɢɪɴɢ: @ajmiila02 @xiernia @sunniisyde @raginginferno267

13th September 850

Tomorrow will be the day we take back Shiganshina and I'm certain we will. I had the opportunity to present a possible strategy to the Commander, the Section Commanders and the Captain in a meeting today. Commander Smith decided to go with my concept and promised me a promotion if it works. The truth is, I don't think I'll need it. My visions end by tomorrow, and I have reason to believe that it will be my last day on Earth. Not only will it be mine, but so many more will die. I find the deaths of Armin and Moblit especially devastating, but I have chosen not to tell them. Their dedication is remarkable, and their loss will compensate for the lives of others.

I thought about talking to Captain Ackerman one last time. Things have been icy between us ever since what happened in the forest, especially after he found out the truth about Kenny Ackerman. Before the killer died, it was revealed that he was Levi's uncle, it must have been devastating for him. I'd be lying about my feelings if I didn't say that my heart flatters every time he looks at me, but things aren't the same anymore. I miss the days when I disliked him, when it was easier to hate him than to love him.

You put the pencil down on the desk and lean back in your seat, relaxing against the wood as you close your eyes. Your muscles ached from training and your head ached from dinner. You had eaten meat for the first time in months, and so had the rest of the scouts and guides, hungry teenagers and adults fighting over a piece of steak or chicken tenders. It was both amusing and exhausting to watch. You sat in between Hange and Marlene while you made fun of them with the other squad leaders Dirk and Klaus. Levi ate quietly and didn't bother to show any form of enjoyment, as usual. Soon after, Klaus declared that he wanted one last night out before the mission, probably expecting it to be his last. Most of the higher-ups agreed, everyone except Captain Levi. He just rolled his eyes at the idea and glared at you when you agreed to join them later that night.

That was a few minutes ago, now you are not so sure it was a good idea. You've never been close to any of the group leaders, except for Levi once. But he made it clear that you were nothing more than his second-in-command, just another squad leader under his comment. His desire for you was apparently short-lived, and now your relationship is nothing but rocky and icy. "He's a sadist." You say to yourself as you get up, grab your cardigan and walk out of your room, following the corridor to the main entrance where you agreed to meet the others. Your mind dances in circles around Captain Levi Ackerman, remembering how seriously he took his training over the past few months, trilling you to the point of exhaustion. You once fell unconscious after he held you in a chokehold for too long.

Ackerman is frustrated and you are the source of his dismay, that much is clear. Though you can't quite put into words what it was that made him angry with you in the first place, it's humiliating and overwhelming not knowing what's going on, it makes you feel like the day you woke up in the infirmary all those years ago: weak.

The walk to the bar is filled with Hange's loud, ecstatic voice and Marlene's happy laughter as the two of them reminisce about the day Levi joined the Corps.

"You should have seen him, Faye! He was so brooding and frustrated with his horse". Marlene remembers, holding back a laugh as she grins at the memory, which makes you smile at the thought. You can only imagine how impatient he was.

"So he hasn't changed much, hugh?" You wonder, turning to Hange just as she throws her arm over your shoulder and pulls you close.

"Nah. He was probably born with a frown on his face. But you must tell us your secret. How do you do that?" They speak in riddles, making you raise an eyebrow at their strange question.

"What do you mean? Do what?" Hange giggles as Marlene appears on the other side of you, her big eyes meeting yours.

"You're the only one he looks at with tenderness." She explains, grinning with excitement at her and Hange's observation. The other squad leaders roll their eyes and give each other a knowing look.

"No, he doesn't!" You argue, finding the thought of Captain Levi Ackerman looking at you like that more than ridiculous.

"Yes, he does! He's all over you." Hange cries with a wide grin as Moblit tries to calm her down, begging her to lower her voice as they pass a group of strangers. Still not believing them, they head for the nearest bar, where music and alcohol are more important than anything else at the moment.

The bar is filled with people, and in one corner musicians are playing a happy tune that seems to put them in a good mood. You know this place well, you've been here almost every weekend with other scouts, hoping to find some sort of escape from your depressing thoughts. Here and there, you have even thought of going with one of these men, just for the sake of distraction, but in the end, you have never allowed the desire for company to get the better of you.

"Nice place." Dirk says, smiling at the happiness that surrounds the place. He's a bit older than Commander Erwin and Captain Levi, something that's rarely seen among the scouts.

"Yes, let's have a drink." Hange says happily, pulling you along as they order something called a "spritzer", a mixture of white wine and sparkling water. You've never tried it before, but you're surprised at how refreshing it is.

Barely tasting the alcohol on your tongue, you order another round, underestimating how it will hit your bloodstream. You feel less exhausted after a few minutes and simply enjoy the moment, closing your eyes for a second to let the atmosphere sink in. After a third cup, Marlene leads you onto the dance floor, takes your hand and happily dances with you. Soon you are joined by the others and for the first time in a long while you feel an emotion you haven't felt for months: happiness.

You are torn from your thoughts as you bump into someone and turn to apologize to the man as your eyes widen in surprise.

"Lauda?" You ask, looking at the former member of Hange's squad in astonishment. During a mission outside the walls, he was injured and lost a leg, which led to his honorable discharge.

"Faye!" The young man shouts through the noisy crowd, smiling as he notices the others. Hange greets him with a hug, while Klaus points to his wooden leg and asks how he's been. After a little chat, Lauda turns back to you with a cheeky smile and offers you his hand.

"Would you like to dance? I may not be as agile as I used to be, but I still know how to have a good time!" He assures you, making you giggle as you take his hand and return his smile. The young man leads you into the middle of the bar, making you turn and twist to the music, while he keeps a steady hand on yours, supporting you as you dance. You start to feel tipsy and by the sixth round you feel the alcohol taking over your senses. The evening may turn out to be even more interesting than you expected.

Levi Ackerman. Rumors of his newfound surname are spreading like wildfire, and combined with the fact that shit is going down tomorrow, the Captain of the Scouts is in desperate need of something heavier than beer. That, and after accidentally overhearing a conversation between Eren and his friends, he certainly needed something strong to clear his head. "The sea." He speaks to himself as he makes his way to the cosy looking bar. Music blares from the open windows as he winces at the sight of people happily dancing in the crowd. He recognises some of the older scouts and just rolls his eyes at their childish behaviour. His thoughts drift away again, trying to imagine what this great body of water might look like. Armin Arlert wants to see the damned thing, and Levi is determined to take the brat there, even though he can't get the thought out of his head that he won't be able to.

As he enters the bar, new thoughts cross his mind as he walks to the bar and takes a seat in the corner, away from the cheering scouts. "They'll drop like flies." He thinks and averts his eyes, the chilling image of none other than himself appearing before his mind's eye. A tightening in his chest as he quickly orders a glass of whiskey, trying to suppress his brain's obsession with you. "Not just my brain." He scoffs at himself, shaking his head as he swallows the burning liquor the bartender shoved down his throat. "She got into my heart too."

As his eyes roam the crowd, Levi orders another glass and fixes them on a drunkenly dancing figure, a woman who, from behind, looks terribly like you. He continues to stare, prying eyes following the swaying hips and floating skirt.

"She's a pretty thing, comes to the bar almost every Saturday." Turning his head, Captain Levi registers the bar owner's words and gives him a dark look. He picks up the glass, turning his head just in time to see the dancing woman turn, and to his shock, it is you. His eyes widen as his throat burns from drinking too much whisky too fast. You are there, dancing with another soldier he recognises as a member of Hange's squad, Lauda. A man with dark, rather long brown hair and a slight build. He remembers him as a squad leader too, though he hasn't seen him since he was injured during a mission. His eyes fix on the prophet on his leg as he shakes his head, wondering how the brat can still move with wood instead of flesh for a foot.

"Every Saturday, you say?" Levi takes another sip, eyeing Lauda suspiciously.

"Don't get your hopes up, Captain. She never takes a man home." He blinks, noticing that the bartender obviously hasn't realised that you're a scout too.

“Plus, I believe she's a bit young, don't you think?” The comment was unnecessary, causing Levi to roll his eyes in annoyance as he swallows the last of his drinks. He takes a few coins from his pockets and places them roughly on the bar with a thud. Not bothering to register the other people in the room, he walks straight up to two trained soldiers, ignoring the way Hange yells at him for being late to the party he hadn't even planned on attending.

With a quick swirl of his hands, he grabs you by the hips and turns you to face him, away from the confused Lauda, who just stares at him with disdain. Your eyes are wide and your cheeks glow red, the smell of wine clinging to your heated body.

"Levi!" Hange's booming voice breaks the awkwardness as he approaches you with a broad smile.

"I didn't think you'd come." Klaus notes with a frown as he carefully observes the way the Captain's hands are placed around your lower abdomen. Levi lets us go when you do, cursing under his breath at the way he's handled the situation. He was far too impulsive and certainly has no right to stop you from dancing with another man, even one of your own age.

"I didn't either." He admits with a deep, frozen look on his face as he locks his eyes with yours, watching you quiver under his steely gaze.

"We need to talk about tomorrow." Levi demands, letting go of your hips to cross his arms over his toned chest.

"Alright guys, let's go get a drink and let the party boomer here scold poor Faye." Hange comments, leading the others, including Lauda, away from you and your captain. The tension is thick, suffocating even, as Levi once again enters your personal bubble to grab your arm and pull you with him.

"You're ridiculous." You insult him as you struggle against his hands on you as he leads you out of the bar into the cool night. The cardigan and the alcohol keep you warm as you feel goose bumps forming on your legs. Your skirt doesn't offer much protection and you can feel Levi's eyes on your exposed skin as a breeze ruffles the fabric. It makes you shiver, but you are not sure if it is because you are cold or because Levi is watching you.

"What did you want to talk about?" You ask quietly, looking at him with dilated pupils as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness. He pushes you into a darkened alleyway, away from prying eyes.

"You come here often?" Surprised, you raise an eyebrow at him.

"Why?" The answer seems uncertain, even hesitant, as you remember that his original reason for separating you from the group was something else.

"I thought you wanted to talk about tomorrow." Questioning Levi is something you wouldn't advise anyone to do, but you're too drunk to follow your own advice.

"Tch. Just answer the question, brat." Captain Levi Ackerman rolls his eyes and doesn't seem at all bothered by the change of subject.

"Yeah. Almost every weekend." You reply quietly, avoiding his piercingly cold gaze as you focus on the pavement beneath your feet. He sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to control his temper. His grip on your hand tightens, obviously unhappy.

"Do you always let men touch you like Lauda did?" Levi demands, gripping you tightly.

"No!" you snap back before hesitating for a second and taking a deep breath. "He just held me."

"Held you? I'm sure he wanted to fuck you." You jump at his vulgar words and look at him with wide eyes.

"Are you jealous?" You ask, scowling at his hypocritical behaviour.

"Don't be ridiculous, Faye." The Captain refuses, biting the inside of his cheek angrily at the lie that has just passed his lips.

"You have no right to judge my actions!" Your voice rises slightly as you continue to argue with Levi, hoping he will leave you alone.

"I should!" He argues back. "If you were mine, I would..." You cut him off with a sneer, mocking him with a fake smile.

"You'd do what, huh? I could have been yours, but you chose to push me away." You screech in pain, the smile falling from your face as you move closer to him.

"I should have known you never really wanted me." That seems to provoke him enough.

"It doesn't matter what I want!" Levi growls at you, clutching your wrist tightly, trying not to lash out, but your words cut into his soul. You whimper at his touch, trying to suppress the urge to cry out in pure pain.

"Don't you understand? I can't let my perversion ruin you, it will only hurt you!" He bites, pulling you deeper into the alleyways, trying to bring your drunken self back to headquarters.

"Perversion, yes, that's right." You exclaim, eyebrows furrowed and flames of suppressed rage in your eyes. "Don't you just love hurting me? Like right now, are you trying to break my fucking wrist, Levi?" You point and slap his hand. To your surprise he lets go and turns to you with a weary expression.

"Yes. I want to hurt you." The truth hits you harder than the freezing air around your legs as you take a step back from him.

"But why?" You shudder, not yet fully understanding the intent behind his desires. You knew that loving him would hurt, he demonstrated as much that night in the woods. Though, you remember moments of lust too, where the pain only added to your arousal.

"I can't explain it." Levi offers honestly, shame colouring his cheeks red. The drinks he downed just a few minutes ago seem to have finally affected him.

"Then can you show me?" A bold question, especially coming from you, considering that you didn't even dare to talk to him about anything non-military for months.

"You don't know what you're asking."

Oh, but you do. Levi has been there ever since you opened your eyes and kept on growing. Even though you haven't seen him for years in the training corps, there's still something that keeps you connected, something that still urges you not to leave his side. It feels wrong to say it out loud, but you know what you are asking. You would let the strongest man in humanity touch you any way he wanted, as long as he made you feel that way again. It's shameful, yes, but somehow you can't help but be drawn to his unorthodox way of lusting after you.

"I do. I think about that night a lot." You confess as you cross your hands behind your back and look at him with your eyes wide open and your heart pounding. Levi watches you, not quite trusting your words.

"You're drunk. I'll take you back to the base." He offers to your disappointment, placing a hand on your shoulder to push you further forward.

"But it's the truth, Levi! Please, I can't stop thinking about you, I need you." It feels pathetic to admit these shameful thoughts, especially with the unreadable expression on his restless face.

"Faye-" His voice seems to be stripped of all self-control, indicating that he is beginning to give in.

"I could be dead tomorrow, please let us enjoy each other just this once."

Levi is stunned, his lips parted in surprise at your demands that seem to mirror his desires. Maybe it's the whisky, or maybe his stupid hormones are the reason for his carelessness, as Levi breaks the distance between you. In a matter of seconds, his hands are around your waist as he pulls you into his arms, his lips crushing against yours. Hot waves hit both of you and you feel his hands move slowly down to your hips, catching you off guard as he gropes your bottom and lifts you up hungrily. Your lips are still locked together, fighting for dominance as you cross your arms and legs around him as if it's second nature. Levi pushes you against a wall, the cold brick pressing into your back as his hands fiddle with the hem of your skirt, pulling it up to reveal your bare legs.

"Captain..." You whimper, breaking the kiss to get some fresh air. Levi's hands grip your thighs tightly, planting a heated kiss under your ear. His hips move into yours and you can feel his hardened member pressing against your damp panties.

"Fuck, look what you're doing to me." He moans, a deep sound escaping his throat as he presses his midsection against you. Pain follows his action as his hands scratch the inside of your leg, leaving you a whimpering mess.

"Needy thing." Levi curses as he catches the sensitive skin of your neck between his teeth, almost drawing blood. You close your eyes, welcoming the burning sensation with a moan of pain and tears. Distracted by his attack, you barely notice his fingers gliding over your clothed core, only opening your eyes in shock as he applies pressure to the area.

"Levi." Saying his name like that under your breath only emboldens him to continue as he brushes the fabric of your underwear aside. The moment his fingers touch your bare clit, a loud yelp escapes you, your mouth opening and closing like it's hard to breathe. And it is, as Levi's free hand wraps around your throat, squeezing it shut.

"You're too loud." He complains with an amused smile, looking around to make sure no one has heard your obscene screams. Captain Levi has lived a truly selfless life these past few years, he deserves this, he deserves to indulge you, Levi tells himself.

Your breath is ragged as his fingers push through your tightness, splitting you open slightly. It's hard to breathe, but with the way his fingers push into you, you don't care. Your belly burns with heat and a deceptive lust that washes over you in intense waves as Levi adds another digit to fill you even more. The hand around your neck loosens and moves quickly to your shoulder, stabilising you against the wall. You breathe in hard, still feeling dizzy from the loss of air. All you can manage is a desperate whimper as your arms squeeze tightly against him, trying to hold on to him.

Wet sounds ring in your ears as Captain Levi increases the speed of his fingers, curling and splitting them in a way that leaves you numb with pleasure. You are a mess, breathing heavily and biting your lips as you feel a tight knot forming in your stomach. You arch your back, your chest touching his as your head rolls back into your neck. You feel your muscles clench around him, your high leaving you breathless, a ragged whimper breaking through your throat as your nails dig into Levi's neck. His hand grabs your hair, pulling at it as you ride out your ecstasy.

You wish this moment could last forever, but it ends too soon as Levi quickly pulls out of you, forcing you down onto the rocky pavement. He takes his time to clean his hand from your silky release as he looks down at you, your legs shaking from the aftermath, bruises and marks covering your sweaty skin.

"You won't die tomorrow." Levi speaks in a cool voice, brushing back his dark hair.

"This was just a taste. Maybe I'll give you more when things are finally over." His words promise a possible next time, but you can't help but feel a deep step in your heart as he walks away, leaving you to sit there in the dark alley, drained and alone.

[ninetqs]

no pressure etc but when seb finally fucks omega charles. what's that likes. I need to know — @gayferrari

okay so it happens after brazil right. needless to say they're both livid and upset so this really sets the tone for a great night!!! if they'd fucked after singapore it probably would've just been awkward since charles was so miserable and seb was not (and this is part of why seb said no before—i don't think he would find a clearly depressed charles who is fucking him as [what he perceived to be] a form of self-flagellation to be very hot. mainly bcs it plays into seb's underlying fear that charles Is special) but like. if they're both miserable that's a different story.

it probably goes down something like. most awkward debrief of all time. seb is fuming and goes back to the hotel asap because he knows he shouldn't stick around just to shit talk charles. this time charles doesn't directly proposition him but they run into each other in the elevator, much to their chagrin. they stand in complete silence while having all these nasty thoughts about each other. they leave the elevator. in this world they always stay on the same floor for plot purposes B) charles is fitting his key into the door when seb is like you know what fuck it. maybe i do deserve to fuck him. after at least 4 charged paragraphs of how charles has pretty privilege (which is just code for how seb's wanted to fuck him for months but bcs he is such a good teammate he hasn't. except charles is being a shitty teammate to him now so surely seb gets to be one back for once???) he grabs charles and drags him inside His room the same way charles did to him in monza

in seb's porn trope world charles would just melt and be like "oh seb you are so hot and i am the one in the wrong you should fuck the brattiness out of me." in reality charles is pissed and is like "um i did Not offer to fuck tonight you creep" and seb is like "i can smell how badly you want me" (key for two reasons: 1. it's literally a lie -> seb is just talking shit and it happens to stick [though to be fair it is easily guessable]; 2. it's lowkey using charles' omeganess against him which makes him crumble much quicker since he still isn't used to being faced with it [he sputters red-faced until seb rolls his eyes and kisses him again]) the sex is a little horrible tbh. they both complain the entire time because they're mentally stuck in the car still twelve hours later. seb closes his eyes and sees the prancing horse shaking its head at him in disappointment and he fucks charles harder. charles uses seb as a chew toy and seb thinks it's some omega instinct but no it's just charles wanting to bite him.

tl;dr of the above it's just pseudo hate sex and there's no deeper reason which probably pisses seb off even more once he calms down in a few days because it's like. all of that push/pull for months, seb doing his best to be a good little boy and not fuck his practically teenage omega teammate, etc. and it goes down the drain of because of a dumb crash!! which just makes seb feel bad about himself (bcs despite all his pettiness and such he's way too aware of how young charles is) which in turn makes him more resentful of charles. also regardless of charles' actual intentions here i think seb would consider fucking to be him "losing" to charles so he is just mentally worn down by the end of the year.

seb has a breakdown over the winter and shows up in 2020 like #peaceandlove. the next time they fuck seb is very gentle and kind about it and this pisses charles off immensely because nobody is rating him since his litmus test (seb) has seemingly mentally checked out. they have a 3am post-sex fight about this but it changes nothing and the sex continues to be bad until it just peters out with a whimper. -> sorry this is very unsatisfying for us too but if it helps they're also unsatisfied so we're ALL left unhappy.

i can't see a happy ending in this world because of how seb got it stuck in his head that he needs to do the Right Thing all the time plus the ferrari of it all. maybe once seb gets out of the team he looks back and he's like damn maybe i could've been smarter about that but oh well! and then he moves on with his life while being haunted by charles' pussy in his nightmares.

most importantly, i'm sure this all leaves a very healthy blueprint for charles' future relationships with his teammates 🙂‍↕️

[aphrodites-law]

Clarke wakes up eight years in the future, where her college best friend happens to be her girlfriend. Part 5/? (Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4)

It was such a beautiful day that Clarke almost felt bad they’d sit in a dark movie theater for two hours. Lexa seemed happy to just hold her hand as they walked down the street, chatting about one of the business projects she was working on. 

Clarke knew questions about Lexa’s work were like flirting with danger. There was no way Other Clarke didn’t already know everything about her girlfriend's career, while she could barely hold the conversation. Parks and the environment had never made her feel so dumb. Luckily, Lexa didn’t seem to notice any gaps in her knowledge — or lack thereof. 

If Clarke was still on edge about the whole situation, at least it would’ve been nice to have some advantages. Her memory being so selective was a thorn in her side. It was like she was forced to walk this future with horse-blinders on because she might break it irreparably otherwise. It was all so… careful, tailored, that Clarke was starting to reconsider her stance on dorky sci-fi. Maybe Raven had cobbled together some kind of monstrous time machine and then stored it in Lincoln’s basement. 

“Do you want Milk Duds?”

Clarke tried to refocus. They’d arrived at the concession stand of the multiplex, where  a teenager was shoveling popcorn in a paper bag. Clarke didn’t remember this theater in particular, but the buttery-sweet smell put her at ease. Lexa and her went to the movies whenever they could, treating themselves to sweets. It was familiar territory for once — there was nothing to worry about. 

“No, you always hoard them,” Clarke replied mindlessly. 

“Do not,” Lexa protested. “You just take forever to eat them.”

“You have to suck the chocolate first.”

“Here we go.” 

“What kind of person just bites into them right away?!” 

“I don’t know you and I don’t hear you.”

Clarke grinned, finding it so much easier to fall into their banter than more serious exchanges. When the teen set their popcorn on the counter, she reached for her purse to pay but heard a snort and the smooth swipe of Lexa’s credit card.

“Yeah, right,” Lexa said. 

They made their way down the hall toward their screen. 

“So I can’t pay for my own food at 30?” Clarke teased. 

“Not the day of, grandma.” 

“Wow, look who’s talking now.” 

Lexa pinched her ass so fast that Clarke let out a startled gasp. 

—

It was a coming of age story on the raunchy side, with loud scenes and moody visuals in nightclubs and college dorms. Clarke felt completely disconnected from the story, knowing she would forget it soon. The more obvious reason was that they were done with the popcorn and now Lexa had her hand on her bare thigh. 

She wasn’t even… doing anything, but it was there, and Clarke didn’t care about any character or any damn plot point because her best friend’s fingers were touching her skin. She could admit that much. 

The real mistake had been comparing how Lexa and her usually acted at the movies. Sitting next to each other, sharing food or candy, but never… touching with purpose. Inevitably, Clarke wondered how she would’ve reacted if her Lexa had ever attempted this. If she’d held her hand and made no move to let go. Clarke wanted to believe she would’ve been effortlessly cool about it, but her current state showed otherwise. 

Breathing was a tall order and her hands felt clammy. There was no one behind them at least.

“Lexa…” she whispered, glancing at her. 

Lexa had a small smile but seemed otherwise focused on the movie. Her hand inched up higher, beneath her dress, and then stilled again. 

In the cover of darkness, Clarke realized her assumption she’d be safe from her own desires was a joke. The secluded but still public space made it worse – forbidden in the kind of way that made her ache. Now it made sense why Lexa had responded so positively to her movie suggestion. 

From the way her body was reacting, Other Clarke clearly had a fantasy for this type of situation, and Clarke had tapped right into it. Which was unfair, because how could she know she enjoyed this before she even knew it! 

“Fuck,” she cursed, her fingers digging into the armrest. With her free hand she reached for Lexa’s wrist, a weak attempt to stop her.

“Lexa,” she repeated quietly. “What are you doing?”

Lexa drew small circles on Clarke’s skin, like an apology. Only it wasn’t. “It’s okay, baby,” she murmured a few seconds later. “Sit back.”

There was… no way. Clarke couldn’t. She couldn’t. But her heart had started pounding and the heat in the pit of her stomach felt unbearable. She knew this feeling but never this intense. There was no scenario where she didn’t take care of this. And to Lexa, there was no scenario where she didn’t care of this. 

Which was exactly why Clarke needed to choose her next words carefully: “Not here,” she pleaded, and then: “I’ll be too loud.” 

It had the effect Clarke had hoped for. Lexa lost all semblance of control and looked at her, her mouth parted open and her expression unreadable. Yet in the dark room, Clarke could still see the change in her. Could feel how her hand’s soft touch turned into a possessive grip. Fingers pressing into flesh, then her thumb rubbing against the spot as if she worried she’d hurt her. 

Lexa was quiet for a beat, then cleared her throat and gathered their belongings. “Come on.”

She’d entwined their hands without Clarke even realizing it, or maybe it was her who’d reached out first. Clarke wasn’t sure she could tell left from right anymore, or if she could even walk to wherever it was Lexa was taking her. They left the room discreetly, but the lights in the hall did nothing to snap Clarke out of her mounting desire. 

It felt like the fight had been lost the moment she’d suggested they go slow. Slow had meant eventually, and with Lexa, eventually seemed to only take a few hours. 

—

The restroom was miraculously empty for now, but the toilet stall Lexa had dragged her in was a tighter space than expected. Clarke felt a thrill.

Lexa pressed her against the door with little restraint, hand cupping her cheek as she kissed her deeply.

Clarke pulled back and looked into her eyes, knowing she didn’t want to stop her. It wasn’t just how her body reacted to Lexa’s hands or mouth. Wherever they were, from the comfort of their apartment to the cramped confines of this stall, she felt home. Home with Lexa. Attuned to her touch, her smell and her taste. The most mind-bending, confusing event of her life was happening, yet she felt safe. Tethered to this new life as if it was her own. Or could be, at least. 

Lexa rubbed their noses together. “Breathe,” she whispered. 

Clarke tangled her fingers in her hair. “I’m okay. Just wondering… why the toilet is the romantic setup I get.”

“What do you mean?” Lexa replied with a smirk. “You love traditions.”

“Tradi-”

Lexa kissed her again, her full lips like warm velvet against hers. She kissed her until it almost felt silly that was all they were doing, and really, Clarke was sick of fighting this. She reached for Lexa’s hands and brought them to her breasts, where Lexa needed no further instruction to palm them. 

“Fuck, Clarke, I can’t do the whole slow thing anymore.”

“You can’t?” Clarke repeated pointlessly, too lost in the feeling of Lexa’s hands on her body. 

“It’s your birthday,” Lexa said against her neck, inhaling when Clarke tilted her head to the side. “And I have so many presents to give.”

Her hands went down to her waist, her ass, and then pushed her dress up. She never looked away from her, smile growing as Clarke’s eyes darkened. 

“Lexa…” 

It was all she could find to say. Just the name of the woman in all her thoughts. She felt so needy; a need to connect with Lexa in all the ways they never did in her time. She pulled her close and kissed her, chasing her tongue. When Lexa moaned, she was reminded of what she’d told her earlier – how her kisses felt different. Clarke thought, good, let them be different. Let Lexa be surprised too. It was only fair. 

Lexa’s hand was beneath lace in a matter of seconds, fingers finally pressing against her. 

“Oh, god,” Clarke breathed out, knees buckling. 

“I’ve got you,” Lexa promised, firmly holding her thigh up with her other hand. 

When she entered her, Clarke’s body felt so overcome with pleasure she briefly worried she’d come on the spot.

“So wet,” Lexa husked in her ear. “I wish I could get on my knees. But not yet.”

Fuck. Clarke closed her eyes, thankful for the small mercy. She wouldn’t have been able to stop Lexa from licking into her if she wanted. Not even for a second. She could only focus on her fingers filling her, harder and faster with every moan that slipped out of her. 

Lexa took her quickly, like she worried someone would rob them of this moment if she didn't. Or couldn't wait to see her fall apart. Her eyes never looked away and her skin had a slight shine under the harsh light. She’d never looked more confident; more beautiful. And Clarke felt attractive too, though… with her tits nearly out of her dress, her leg hooked around Lexa’s waist and her fingers buried deep inside her, she should’ve felt dirty. And well, she did, but not in a way where she’d later feel empty. Where she’d be reminded she was someone you had fun with, but that was all. Lexa made her feel like a fucking bombshell. Was showing her that they were on the same page in every facet of this relationship.

Clarke wanted to last longer but couldn’t, needing release like she needed air. It hit her hard, just as Lexa found a different spot and adjusted her angle, because of course she knew every inch of her body. She muffled her moans in Lexa’s top, though she doubted it helped.

Lexa pressed small, tender kisses on her neck while she rubbed her clit in tight circles, whispering I love yous between Clarke’s sighs. For a moment they simply came down the same euphoric wave together, not in a rush to find the world again. When she finally pulled out, Clarke whined in protest. She couldn’t get enough, now wanting nothing more than to make Lexa feel the same. 

She’d crossed the line, and there was no part of her that wanted to go back. 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Risky Business: Part Two

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Summary: The repercussions of being in prison finally take a toll on you. You're yelling at everyone, short and curt, and you're in a constant state of wanting to cry. Will this bitter cycle ever end?

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

Spencer and Derek went to check out Ryan Krouse's house to get a feel of who he was before he died. He was the one who died in the hospital after being treated. Like with Trish, there were no secret hiding places or drug paraphernalia. There are pictures of Ryan and his girlfriend, Shaunna in his room that give off a look of happiness. According to his parents, Ryan never dated Trish or even knew of her. The only time they met was at the hospital.

Ryan got good grades and he got a recommendation letter from the football coach to play varsity next year. Derek wanted to take his laptop for evidence but Ryan didn't have one. His father didn't want him to be online without supervision, so Derek will settle for the network IP address instead. Penelope can get into it from where she is.

You get back to the station and meet up with everyone else. You hand Trish's laptop to Penelope who immediately goes through it. You stand off to the side and watch as everyone engages in the case. You'll help if needed but you don't have the energy to be as involved as they are. You're so lucky to have someone like Hotch. Anyone else would have suspended you.

"Hey, you ready to delve into Trish's online world?"

"If by ready you mean extremely capable and even more reluctant, then yes." she hacks into the computer. "That's weird. There's nothing here."

"Nothing useful?"

"Nothing at all. There's no root directory or operating system. The registry appears to be blank."

"Why would she have an empty computer set up?"

"I did not say empty, I said appears to be blank. I'm gonna need a little while." She does something different and immediately unlocks what is hidden. "I got it! It was just a basic Trojan Horse. It just hid the directories and didn't erase them. Oh, God."

"What is it?"

You look up and see Derek and Spencer walk into the police station. Penelope pulls up a website that she frequented a lot.

"She was on a choking game site the night she died. It looks like it's a game kids play where they choke themselves to get a buzz, to get high."

"They call it the good kids' high," Spencer says. "You get lightheaded and a sense of euphoria even though no actual drugs are involved. It's something kids in high school play."

"Did Ryan have a computer?"

"Not in his room."

"What about a gaming system?" Pen asks and Derek nods. "Teenagers will find a way to get online."

"I have the IP address."

Penelope uses it to get into the system where she finds the exact same website Trish went to.

"Bingo. Ryan was on the same site on the same night. I don't think it's suicide." She continues to type. "Hang on, this is a text-to-voice icon. Let's see what happens."

She clicks on it and a computer-animated voice starts to speak.

"Come on, try it. We all do it. I dare you."

"I dare you? Someone was orchestrating this, purposely getting the kids to choke themselves."

"Make sure you close the door. Tomorrow's the big night. We're all gonna play the game."

"There's a whole subculture around this game. They make up names for it and do it at parties. Someone is daring these kids in this area to play the game," Penelope says and looks into the website more. "It's a contest, and there are rules. 'Come on, Evans High, this is the big one. Garfield edged out Casper High last week. You gonna let them diss us?'"

"Diss? That sounds like a kid. Who else would pit schools against each other?"

"Reckless teenage competition," Rossi scoffs.

"The school that logs the most high times this Friday wins. Get your friends on board. Practice makes the high last longer. Gotta do it alone, video it with your webcam, and upload it to the site for it to count," Penelope reads.

"Friday? That's tomorrow."

"Doing it alone requires ligatures. He's basically encouraging them to play the deadliest form of the game with no one there to revive them."

"Garcia, shut this site down," Hotch says.

"Sir, I can totally do that but I don't think you want me to."

"Why?"

"Right now this site is our only way to track the unsub. If I cut into it, he'll know we're watching him, in which case he'll shut it down. He'll write a simple change in code and bring it back up in a more covert fashion. Plus, there's no telling how many servers it's replicated on, anyway."

"You're right," he sighs. "We're ready to give the profile."

You've been writing in your notebook just like your therapist has suggested but nothing is happening. Maybe your own fear is clinging to theirs. Maybe your fear doesn't want to be alone so it brings you down with it. How can you possibly hope to overcome this if you can't even get away from your fear?

"We believe the unsub responsible for these deaths may be a teenager," Derek begins the profile. "He's a loner and doesn't participate in team sports or group activities. He's withdrawn with very low self-esteem."

"His only form of pure interaction is online. He engages in activities that draw attention to himself yet isolate him from his peers. Parents and teachers should watch out for the warning signs--bloodshot eyes, marks on their necks, severe headaches, and disorientation."

"In real life, he considers himself a loser. In cyberspace, he can pull strings. It makes him feel powerful."

"Does this kid know that other kids are dying because of him?" an officer asks.

"Could be. He's choking himself and daring others to do it, so we're most likely looking at reckless homicides here."

"If you see anything that's unusual or suspicious, just call the sheriff's department and we will try to direct you as best we can. Thank you," JJ finishes.

The police will appeal to the public but you, Derek, and Spencer are going to a school to appeal to the kids. Hotch and Emily are at another school, and Rossi and a few officers are at another. The classroom you're in has students who look like they want to be anywhere but here. They aren't paying attention, and some of them are even on their phones and giggling.

"Two different mechanisms--strangulation and hyperventilation--create the same effect: oxygen deprivation in the brain."

A phone beeps and a student tries to hold his laughter.

"Hey, kid. Not a good idea. Let me see it." Derek snatches the phone from the kid and reads his text out loud. "What planet is this dude from? He doesn't want us to win the contest."

"I think the accurate statement would be, 'he doesn't want us to participate in the contest at all.'" He walks to the empty desk in the room and points to it. "This was Ryan's desk, right? This is where Ryan sat? You guys remember Ryan, right? He played football and took Shaunna to Prom. I'm assuming that some of you were probably even friends with Ryan.

"He wanted to win the contest, too, but the way Ryan choked himself, he cut off all the oxygen to his brain. That sent a distress signal to his heart, slowing it down. Then his brain, in an effort to preserve itself, shut off all non-essential bodily functions. His arms gave out. His legs gave out. That means he couldn't loosen the tie around his neck, at which point panic set in.

"In Ryan's case, it escalated to cardiac arrest, which means that his heart stopped. Brain damage began, and within four minutes, he was completely and totally brain-dead. He died scared and probably in a lot of pain, unable to stop what he thought he had complete control of. All because he wanted to participate in what I consider to be a pretty lame game. So, I mean, your text is actually completely accurate. I don't want you to win the contest because I don't want you to play the game."

Every single student is looking at Spencer in silence but they aren't connecting to what he's saying. He gave them technical talk they're not interested in so you have to step it up. You shouldn't be talking to these kids in your condition but you think they need someone like you to make this real for them.

"This isn't a game. This your life," you snap. "Do you want to grow up? Get out of this school? Make a life for yourself? See the world and enjoy it? Well, you won't because you'll be dead due to a dumbass decision you made."

"Okay, that's enough," Derek says.

"No, they're not listening! They're teenagers. They think they're right. They think they can do whatever they want and bad things won't happen to them. They'll play this game because they want to be cool." You turn to the students. "Do you want to know what's cool? Graduating. Getting a job you love. Making money. Starting a family. Guess what? You won't be able to do that because you will kill yourselves, and everything you've worked for will be for nothing. You will be gone and eventually forgotten."

That seems to instill fear in some of them. There are a few that don't care what you're saying but you're not sure what else you can say to get them to realize the gravity of the situation.

"You all believe this shit?" a young goth boy in the back speaks up.

"You don't? Why don't you come up here and tell us what you think?"

"Whatever."

The boy gets up and looks like he is going to go up and talk when he takes off running out of the classroom like a guilty man.

"Hey! Hey! Come here!"

Derek immediately chases off after him followed by Spencer. You stay in the classroom and look at everyone there.

"Listen, I'm not your parent. I can't tell you what to do, but I can tell you what your life will look like if you decide to play this game. You might be fine afterward or you might be dead, but the second that you are born, you start to affect everyone around you. What if your best friend played and then died? How would you feel? How do you think they'd feel if you died? Your parents? Siblings?

"You get one life. If you make one mistake, that's it. There are no do-overs. Do you really want to be the person who died too young? Who died because of a game? Games are supposed to be fun, not deadly. You're old enough to know what death is but young enough to not have to be around it. Just something to think about the next time you wrap something around your neck."

If that doesn't get to them, you don't know what will. You leave the classroom and finally join Derek and Spencer's side who has the young goth kid pinned to the ground. Well, Derek does.

"Stop fighting. Stop it!"

"Let me go!"

They wait until he is calm to talk to him.

"Why did you run?"

"Morgan, look at his neck," Spencer says.

Derek reaches for the choker the kid has on but he freaks and struggles against him.

"Don't touch that!"

"Hey, what did I say? Relax."

The kid must realize he can't do anything against Morgan so he has no choice but to let him pull down his choker. There are ligature marks around his neck varying in different colors. 

"Different colors mean different stages of healing," you say.

"You've been doing this to yourself for a long time, haven't you? There's no telling how much his brain has suffered," Dean sighs.

Derek has no choice but to take the kid to the hospital to get checked out. Rhonda is the only one who meets you there since the rest of the team is still at the other schools.

"Dr. Reid," she says when you get there. "Do you think it's him?"

"He's a pretty likely candidate."

A man walks in and you are floored by the energy you feel. It's not a good one. There's something evil about him. You don't like him at all.

"Hi, I'm Wilson Summers. The school called and said my son was injured," he says to a nurse.

"Will," Rhonda says and waves him over.

"Do you know him?" you ask.

"Professionally. He works for the fire department."

"You don't say."

"Sheriff, hi.

You cross your arms and watch him with a careful eye.

"Is my son all right, doctor?" he asks Spencer.

"I'm not that type of doctor. We're with the FBI."

"FBI?"

You sense panic in his body language but he tries to play it off.

"Your son, Christopher, has been choking himself," you put bluntly. "Did you know the kids that have died recently?"

"You're talking about the suicides?"

"They're not suicides. It's a game that kids his age tend to play where they force themselves to pass out for the buzz that it gives them. Do you know anything about that?" He narrows his eyes at you, not liking what you're implying. "How long has Christopher been dressing in the gothic fashion?"

"A while. He's been having a rough time."

"Why's that?"

"His mother died a few years ago, and he's been wearing black ever since."

"Does Christopher spend a lot of time on the computer?" Rhonda asks.

"Just about every waking hour. Why?"

"We think your son may have created a website encouraging kids to compete in this choking contest. Let me ask you again, do you know something about that?" you ask.

"I don't like what you're implying, Agent."

"I'm not implying anything."

"Dad."

Christopher is wheeled in on a wheelchair with Derek by his side.

"Hey, buddy."

"Take him inside," Derek says to the doctor. "Your son needs to go in for some tests."

"Will, when he's done, we're gonna need to talk to him down in my office."

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[rapha-reads]

IWTV rewatch

Season 1 episode 4 [The Ruthless Pursuit of Blood With All a Child's Demanding] - part 2/2

- [Claudia] "We do like mortals do. We fight, we eat, we laugh, we sleep, we love. And then the phone rang last night. And all the easy times stopped." - ooof. How to destroy familial domesticity: bring back the real world.

I love, love, loooove Louis' coldness and casual cruelty at his mother's wake. And looooove the family solidarity. Oh, Daddy Lou's fighting with his sister? Time to show our fangs and have his back.

- Oooh, a Lestat and Claudia scene! Dad teaching his kid all the true, important ways to make it in the world. And accidentally making her realise some things she'll never get to have, stuck as she is as a young teenager. But the blood kinda makes up for it tho.

- "Uncle Les says I gotta practice killin' both the one and the plus one at the same time, but I came away understanding something else tonight. I can't quite put it into words, but it's like something opened up in my head, in my body. I've been 18 for 7 months now, and it's time I started acting like it."

Aaaaand there it is. Happy hunting indeed. Happy until the reality hits back...

"I've lost my appetite, I can't sleep!" - welcome to hormones. Can't say I know first-hand what you're going through but good luck. Oh, no, but this is waaay too adorable. The giggling and the skipping and the flowers and the staying on the balcony waiting for Charlie to look up...

- "Everyone in my family looks younger than their age." - yeah that's one way to put it I guess.

Aaaand exit Charlie, pursued by a terrified horse. Taking this opportunity to say a lil something about how book!vampires are basically asexual in the way that their desire and pleasure express themselves through the blood, blood drinking and blood sharing. While the show being a visual media for a modern audience decided to make human sexuality also a part of vampire sexuality, all while keeping the blood as this irresistible force and the source of everything. Don't really have an opinion one way or another, except to say, please we need more asexual representation that still shows that ace people can find and express desire and pleasure outside of sexuality.

- Lestat taking on the ugly role of teaching Claudia about control and how it's hard for vampires to make lasting connections with mortals... Parenting's hard.

- [Louis] "Vivid writer, isn't she" - I'm kinda glad we don't get Claudia's own words about Charlie's death, knowing the writers they would have given us another lyrical prose that would have made us all bawl our eyes out.

The way Daniel is visibly impacted and heartbroken reading Claudia's diaries: he is deeply compassionate. And you can't read people and write about them without a certain level of compassion and even empathy. "Anne Frank meets Stephen King" indeed.

- [Louis] "Claudia was... everything." - ouch. Break my heart, won't you. It's the way Louis is physically struggling to talk about her, the way he needs the pebbles of his zen garden beneath his feet to anchor himself solidly enough to talk about her.

- "It's funnier when they fight in French. And diary, you'd think a girl whose mama died in childbirth, whose daddy gave her away to a mean old auntie who beat her 'cause no one said she couldn't, who died in a fire but came back by the blood magic of two demons, well, you'd think that girl wouldn't know what funny was. But you'd be wrong, diary. And if I told you, dumb diary, that that same girl was being raised to kill like her demon parents did, to take two souls a day so she could stay in the same flat-chested, hairless-crotched 14-year-old baby doll body as her mind and spirit turn 19, 20, 25, 63, 358, you dumb, dumb diary, I bet you'd say to anyone who'd listen 'Fun? Fun? How does she even get up in the morning?' Well, let me tell you something, you stuck-up, flower-covered, three-dollar fancy fucking paper diary, I'm doing just fine. And how do I know that? 'Cause the first man I killed called me the devil, and the last boy I killed, the last boy I'll ever love in this world, called me an angel. So that means I'm on the right path. And that means there's so much more fun out there to have. I'm just getting started."

THE INTENSITY, DAMN.

The crescendo of Claudia's voice overlayed by the music and echoed in the angrier and angrier words. Wow, I need a minute.

Between the "losing my mind in the coffin" scene, that "madwoman in the attic walking down from the attic" scene and the "the sun is a deadly laser" scene, someone needs to give Bailey several awards. And the writing team needs these awards too.

Show!Claudia actually has a backstory, not very detailed but still there, a miserable, painful human life, 14 years of misery and pain - she had a life, she had experiences before becoming a vampire; unlike book!Claudia who was 5 when she was turned, told Louis she couldn't remember her human life before being Louis and Lestat's, and doesn't have her own narration in between Louis' recollections.

Here, the addition of the diaries to the way the story is told not only allows a third party, a third perspective that's no more and no less of an unreliable narrator as Louis' voice, but it also, and I think more importantly, allows for Claudia to speak for herself. She isn't anymore just a footnote in the messy romance of Louis and Lestat. She is her own person, in her own narrative, with her own agency and life. And that's a huge difference between the two versions of Claudia: eternally-5-year-old Claudia couldn't have her own agency, no matter that she was really 40 in a child's body, because that child's body was more of a damnation, a cage, than a teenager's body. At 14 and with make-up, fashion, body language and speech, Claudia can make herself look marginally older, and thus can reclaim some of that agency, of that control. Therefore the issue comes not from the fact that Claudia needs at least one adult to have that agency by proxy, but from the fact that she might never pass for older than 18 and will be taken advantage of. As we'll soon see.

Also she was right, last boy she loved, but not last person, we stan a bisexual murder deranged queen.

And I did tell Lestat, that roof window is a structural failure.

Well, welcome to the Claudia show. That was one hell of an entrance. Crowd's seated for the next part, "Claudia goes Wild party in the Mississippi".

episode 1 | episode 2 | episode 3 | part 1 | episode 5 | episode 6 | episode 7

[abhorsenkatiel]

I've been making really over-thought TLT character playlists for about a year now as a background program to keep my brain entertained while I'm at work, and I realized that I have kind of a lot now, so I figured I'd share them here if anyone is interested.

Here's the ones I made for Harrow and Gideon. I'm really happy that I was able to get them to have the same number of songs, and also nearly the same run time! If you listen to them in order, they follow each character's emotional narrative.

Song lists below the cut

Harrow

Walk With Fire, Hunter As A Horse:

For when you're a suicidal ten-year-old committing the gravest sin and having complicated feelings about your life's purpose.

REPENT NOW CONFESS NOW, Lingua Ignota:

For when you're a mentally ill teenager leading the congregation of an apocalypse cult while stewing in your own hypocrisy and guilt.

Anti Body, Gazelle Twin:

For when it's your first time away from your home planet and the fate of you and your entire House depends on getting along with your childhood nemesis.

I Walk The Line, Those Poor Bastards:

For when your cavalier is hanging out with another necromancer and you feel weirdly jealous about it. (Fun Fact: There also ended up being a Johnny Cash reference in Gideon's playlist, which was completely unintentional)

True Love, Eivør:

For when the person you love most is with you for eternity, but not in the way you want. (Favorite line for maximum emotional damage: "House of pain, this body is too small a chamber")

Out of Focus, Ioanna Gika:

For when God denies you your only wish, so you decide to take matters into your own hands.

The Time Machine, Hunter As A Horse:

For when you construct an elaborate alternate reality to keep yourself from remembering your ex. (If someone had told me this was written about Harrow in HtN I would've believed them.)

When That Head Splits, Esben and the Witch:

For when you make your worstie give you a back alley lobotomy to save your cavalier's soul.

Oh You Are Not Well, Chloe Foy:

For when you come back wrong from traumatic brain surgery and all you can do is vomit, murder, and follow cryptic instructions from your past self.

MANY HANDS, Lingua Ignota:

For when you beg God for salvation and he tells you to learn how to make soup. (Favorite line for John and Harrow's relationship: "The Lord spat and held me by my neck. 'I wish things could be different', he wept")

God's Dark Heaven, Those Poor Bastards:

For when you're having a crisis of faith while you wait for a cosmic horror eldritch being to show up at God's vacation home.

SOHEAVYSOHOLLOW, Varien, Tori Letzler:

For when your only comfort is the hallucination (?) of your dead monster girlfriend.

I'm Not Done, Fever Ray:

For when you're dead, but it's not the end.

Gideon

Toll, So Below:

For when you're an abused orphan living in an apocalypse cult.

rise, Origa:

For when you're a teenager and you dream of escaping indentured servitude by achieving military glory.

Dark Room, Foreign Figures, Johnny T:

For when your childhood nemesis foils your 86th escape attempt and you get the depression.

Throne, Saint Mesa:

For when you're and epic, badass swordswoman, but your childhood nemesis makes you pretend to be her cavalier at a nerd convention.

Let You In, Marc Straight, Ellen Rose:

For when your childhood nemesis bares her soul to you and you don't know how to feel about it.

Bad Apple!!, RichaadEB, Cristina Vee:

For when you're trapped in a murder house going into a suicidal spiral.

Martyr, Roniit, Saint Mesa:

For when you decide to sacrifice yourself to save your necromancer whether she wants you to or not.

We Are Forever, Hunter As A Horse:

For when you're at peace with your sacrifice. (If someone had told me this was written about Gideon at the end of GtN I would have believed them.)

Lights Out, (DOLCH):

For when it doesn't work and now your still-conscious soul is trapped in her broken mind.

Song for Zula, Phosphorescent:

For when you give her everything you have and she doesn't even want it. (Here's the Johnny Cash reference for Gideon.)

Family Tree (Intro), Ethel Cain:

For when it turns out that your parents actually are super important and powerful, and also they suck.

Exorcise, Gazelle Twin:

For when you get halfway resurrected and it sucks.

Glory Amem, Those Poor Bastards:

For when you're Her Divine Highness, only child of God, and it sucks.

[verdemoun]

The non-warpers.

Mary-Beth Gaskill is regarded as one of the greatest female writers to exist, up there with Shelley and Austen. In the foreword of her best novel, she writes: “to Kieran.”

Orville Swanson’s annotations and teachings of the Bible are so influential; his attitudes towards different ways of life cause drastic positive change to how Christians act towards those of different cultures.

On what is now the main street of a large town Rhodes, a supermarket stands, modern as any other. Behind the till, Johnathan Pearson smiles at a now faded photo of eight people around a wagon, his grandfather Simon in the front seat.

Tilly Pierre dies of natural causes in her sleep, next to her snoring husband in the largest house in Saint Denis.

Mary-Beth absolutely is up there with Shelley and Austen, which means all the school aged babies come home complaining at least once about having to read her books. The whole gang scold them for whining only to pretty much do the homework for them because they all love her novels - many of which are basically her own take on fit-it aus.

The Lady of The Manor, for example, reads as a beautiful tale of love between Susan Grade and David Vincent fleeing police inspector Mellon to the islands with her niece and Mr Vincent's apprentice, only for Ms Grade to realize the curse David Vincent claimed to be under (that compelled him to commit increasingly heinous acts) was a complete fabrication. She banished him to isolation on his precious islands while raising her niece and the highwayman's apprentice as her own children in the new world.

Mary-Beth's dedications would never mention names for the sake of protecting her past as a VDL, but the gang suspected many were to them. One of the more obvious ones was a novel titled Strawberry Roan, which was dedicated 'to the one who helped me realise I could be happy without being in my head somewhere else'. Strawberry Roan reads much more like Mary-Beth writing a 'how to look after horses for dummies' as she learned to look after the horses the gang left behind, except for a slow burning love affair between protagonist Marie and a charming stable boy who is tragically forced to flee the estate to avoid being drafted and no doubt killed in a fictional war.

Orville Swanson was such a charitable and revered member of the community he not only accidentally founded a whole new branch of Catholicism based on his annotated bible, but remembered as a significant figure in recent American history. The gang still randomly find his likeness on commemorative coins in their loose change (and usually keep them).

While his church was accidentally destroyed in a fire several years after his death, a garden was planted on the site in his honor and memory. It's a major tourist attraction featuring Orville's Fountain, with wishing coins thrown in collected for donation to non-for-profits and community services that support at-risk teenagers.

His legacy shows everywhere in modern era America. Arthur one day got really lost in modern era Blackwater and needed to call the gang to come get him - only to find himself standing on the corner of Orville St and Swanson Boulevard.

Counter-claim Pearson lived long enough to see other grocery stores start to pop up in Rhodes as it became a bustling town and was afraid his little local store would be out-competed. Before he passed away he significantly expanded the local produce range of his store. By the time his grandson inherited it, it had become one of the best local delicatessen + sandwich shop in Rhodes and is often featured in top 50 places to eat at in America. Johnathan is also going to be featured later yoinking that character.

Not only is a photo of the gang, as passed down for generations, still proudly displayed (well, a slightly sharpened copy of the original photo, which is now kept in secure storage to protect it from UV), but his grandfather's treasured compass. It is a small shrine to his grandfather's legacy both before, during and after the VDLs: copies of his navy enlistment and honorable discharge forms, newspaper articles featuring photos of a post-canon older Pearson receiving awards for both his store, and having the best damn stew at the local fair.

Tilly Pierre lived a long and truly fulfilled life. She never knew discomfort. She found a man who loved her, and worshipped her for who she was and had always been. She saw her oldest daughter go off to marry a wonderful man who loved his mother-in-law as much as he feared her and would always treat her daughter right. She helped her youngest girl fight for the right for an education, and go on to a remarkable career. She raised sons that would never know the perils of turning to crime to survive, or fear where they would sleep that night. She died peacefully, in a bed more warm and comfortable than she could ever have dreamed of knowing in 1899, knowing every day of her life she was loved.

[thehollowprince]

So I started rewriting The Acolyte into something of a concise story more akin to what I would have liked for how it was presented to me (i.e. a murder mystery). This is just the opening scene of the first chapter/episode and is really just a rewrite of the opening scene from the show (Indara's murder) but with some things removed and others changed around to lean more into the mystery side of things.

Year 743 After Ruusan Reformation (Galactic Standard Calendar)

Ueda was a small planet in the Outer Rim, on the Galactic Frontier, mostly water with a vast archipeligo of rocky islands. The locals have managed to build a semi-thriving civilization. Far from the major hyperspace lanes or trading routes, it was a haven for wanderers and provided a quiet life for those who chose to call it home. And that's how its residents liked it. For the rest of the Galactic community, and even some of its inhabitants, it was a pit stop on the way to bigger and better things.

Currently, it was the wet season on the island where we lay our scene, and the village was host to two unexpected visitors. A Jedi Master and her padawan stopping on the planet to refuel their ship before heading out on their next mission. Indara was a tall, slender woman with a pale, severe face marked by two black tattoos next to her left eye, her black hair pulled back in a simple braid and her clothes simple yet comfortable, while her apprentice was equally as slender, though shorter, only sixteen standard years with a mop of golden curl atop his head, a padawan braid brushing his broadening shoulders, both outstandingly pale compared to the sun darkened locals. The pair were currently inside of the Lomi Usqi Noodle Shop, escaping the gentle rain that was blanketing the island. The townsfolk were happy to house them, both parties getting something from the other. The locals got stories of adventure from around the galaxy, and the padawan got to interact with others close to his own age.

Too many thought of the Jedi as unfeeling droids, but they required, and even wanted, companionship and social interaction as much as the next sentient. Torbin may still have much to learn about the ways of the Force, but his master was content to let him still experience life as a teenager as well. So, while Torbin was horsing around with the other local kids and playing the arcade games the Noodle Shop provided, Indara sat at a communal table, enjoying her noodles and swapping stories with other wanderers passing through. This was the best part of her role in the galaxy, the sense of community with the everyday people.

Honestly, the Jedi life wasn't for everyone, but it definitely had its perks.

The peaceful atmosphere of the shop was shattered rather abruptly when Torbin threw a punch at one of the other local boys. That boy's friends jumped to his defense and rushed the padawan, and while they had numbers, and in some cases size, on their side, Torbin was a Jedi trained by one of the best hand-to-hand fighters in the Order. Several of the boys were immediately thrown back while another, more skilled threw several punches that Torbin dodged and deflected before twisting his arm, nearly to the point of breaking, and delivered a nasty punch to the stomach. The adults themselves got involved now, with a large Devaronian moving in to stop the young Jedi. While the Devaroinian had size, Torbin had speed, quickly dropping and punching a knee, causing his opponent to cry out in pain as they dropped before an uppercut rendered them unconscious.

All around them was chaos as other patrons attempted to get out of the way of the fight.

One of the perks of being a Jedi was having the Force on your side. In this instance, the Force whispered to Torbin, alerting him to incoming danger from his right. He spun, quickly spotting the other patron reaching for their blaster. Acting quickly, he overturned a table, using it to absorb the blast before Force-pushing it into the offender, crushing the large Twi'lek against a wall. Holding out his hand, Torbin called upon the Force, and a knife from the open bar/kitchen flew through the air to smack into his palm. The out-of-control padawan moved forward for the kill before an iron grip wrapped around his wrist.

Indara had finally moved to stop her padawn.

There was only a moment's hesitation from Torbin before he twisted out of her grip, bringing the knife to bear. He slashed and stabbed while she dodged and deflected. For these locals, he may have been more than a match, but Indara had taught him all he knew. She managed to get his arm in a lock again, and he quickly dropped the knife to catch it with his other hand. Before he could grasp the handle, Indara struck out with a foot, kicking the knife across the room and embedding it within the wall, all while twisting her padawn backward to put him off balance.

"Torbin! Why are you doing this?" Master asked padawan. However, when she looked into his eyes, she saw no recognition, blind rage having blackened his gaze. This gave her pause. That pause was all the opening Torbin needed, leaning into his new position to flip over onto his feet, his boot nearly striking Indara in the face. The moment his feet were planted on the floor again, he thrust out both hands, one still in Indara's grip, using the Force to push his unprepared master away and into the same wall he had pinned the Twi'lek, the wood breaking under the force of her impact. While she was down, Torbin took the opportunity to put even more distance between him and his master, leaping with inhuman grace up onto the balcony that ran along the shop's second floor.

From her position amongst the splintered wood, Indara groaned as she got to her feet, her eyes quickly assessing the situation. Her padawan was on the balcony, and with the exception of a few bodies (unconscious, not dead, thank the Force) there were only four sentients still in the shop, Indara and Torbin not included. The shopkeeper and their child were huddled behind the bar, while a girl in a purple cloak whimpered from where she was hunkered next to the arcade game, and the last was unfortunately on the balcony, close to her mad apprentice. Unfortunately for them, Torbin felt their presence through the Force and moved in to attack, grabbing the frightened young woman and preparing to strike.

Indara sprung into action, moving quickly up the stairs and leaping onto the balcony through a Force-assisted leap, but unfortunately, she wasn't quick enough. Torbin, sensing the bigger threat, shoved the young woman off the balcony through the railing and plummeting to the hard ground below. Indara paused in her pursuit, reaching out with the Force to stop the fall and gently lower the innocent to the ground, allowing her to escape without injury. That moment of compassion provided the opening Torbin had been waiting for, having closed the distance between them while she was distracted, lightsaber in hand. A blade of yellow plasma swept passed her face, Indara moving just out of reach of his attack.

Once again, as with the knife, Torbin slashed and stabbed, while his master ducked and weaved, even at one point catching the blade with the Force, confusing her apprentice long enough for her to knock him back with a Force push, his blade shrinking back into the emitter. He rolled backward to his feet, reigniting his blade at his side and slowly rising to his feet, his eyes locked upon his master. For her part, Indara stood stoically, her own lightsaber in her hand, her thumb hovering over the activation switch.

"Torbin, whatever has happened, you can fight this." Indara said calmly. "Fortify your mind, and the Force will guide you."

Torbin screamed in response and charged forward. Indara's emerald blade ignited and met Torbin's gold. The padawan attempted to press forward, but each blow was met with Indara's own steady bladework. Torbin grew more frustrated, striking out wildly, opening himself up to counter attacks that never came. Despite the urgency and importance of stopping him, Indara did not want to kill her padawan. When the correct opening finally came, she locked blades with him, forcing his away and quickly disarming him before knocking him back with a well placed kick. Before he could recover, she was on him, her blade extinguished but ready just in case.

Her hand reached out and hovered over Torbin's head, fingers splayed as she probed his mind with the Force.

"Fight this, Torbin." Indara whispered, her eyes closed, reaching out with the Force and through the cloud of the Dark Side that shrouded her padawn, hoping to save him from whatever had caused this rage and darkness that had consumed him. Had she missed something in his training? Had she failed her padawan? No! She wouldn't believe that. She opened her eyes and gazed down at her padawn, who struggled less and less under her ministrations, until finally he knelt before her, utterly still. He opened his eyes, clear once again.

"… Master?" Torbin whispered, sounding confused and broken. "What happened?"

Indara sighed in relief, relaxing her grip on Torbin, her padawan free from whatever had held him in its grip. This moment of reprieve was short-lived, as the wall that had buckled earlier now collapsed completely, pulling down part of the ceiling into the shop… and directly upon the shopkeeper and his child. Instinctively, Indara reached out with the Force yet again, catching the falling debris and saving the two souls from being crushed.

"Get to safety!" Indara called, straining under the weight of the rubble. The shopkeeper and his child managed to crawl out from behind the bar and escape out the back, but Indara didn't get to stay in that moment of relief for long. With her distracted, her steadying grip on Torbin's mind faltered, his eyes swirling once more into blackness. His saber was summoned to his hand once again, and the emitter shoved up against Indara's chest. There was a moment of crystalline stillness, as if time had stopped entirely, before the yellow blade burst from Indara's back. Almost immediately, Torbin turned off the blade, his eyes no longer dark. Tears fell down his cheeks as he tossed aside his saber, looking on in horror as the shocked look on his master's face slipped into blankness, her own saber slipping from her grip to clunk against the wood. As she fell, the life leaving her body, Torbin surged forward to catch her body.

"Master! I'm sorry, master!" He cried. "Forgive me!" Torbin cradled his master's body, weeping, both grief-stricken and confused, unsure of what had happened nor of what to do next. That decision was taken away from him, a stun blast striking him from behind. His body slumped next to his masters as someone stalked toward the two of them, their boots thumping along the wood before stopping.

The mystery person reached down and picked up Indara's lightsaber before walking away, not even a backward glance to the chaos left in their wake.

[And here I placed the title card, like they do in the show after the opening scene, a sort of break before the story continues. I'd appreciate any feedback. I'm already working on extending it a bit in the beginning to include more of Indara and Torbin, but this is my first draft.]

[atopvisenyashill]

Top 5 smallfolk characters?

NICE QUESTION!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE COURT ATOP VISENYA'S HILL BABEEEEE. I'm making Sylvie, Essie, and Gaemon all one bullet point here so they don't dominate the whole thing but I love them so so much. The family they build against all odds, the desperate attempt to gain some sort of control over a king’s landing that has descended into chaos, the reforms they attempt to push - and the way their own reforms are SOO popular that it forces the other two Kings to start offering food and safety as well!! - and the sad, tragic end of Essie and Sylvie while poor Gaemon looks on. The way all three are denied dignity even in their dying.

Davos Seaworth. LOOK the rest of the nerds in the fandom can call him boring as much as they want but you will never catch MOI calling our only insight into the smallfolk boring, EYE have class solidarity unlike the rest of these posers. I find him equal parts frustrating and engaging; he is so clear eyed on the moral issues that people face yet covers his own eyes when it comes to Stannis' deficiencies. He is determined, always, to keep going, keep fighting. He's a flawed man with a flawed relationship with his wife and sons but he loves them so dearly, so normally. His greatest achievement is that he learned to read. He is so so dear to me.

Mya Stone. MY GIRRRRRRRRL I love how protective of Alayne Stone she is, I love that she knew she had to figure out how to protect herself and provide for herself and learned how to deal with the mules. I love that she had lofty dreams of marrying so far above her station, I love that she's forcing herselfto take the rejection in stride. I think I want a realistic happy ending for her, but a definitely happy ending - I want her to marry for love, I want her to be safe, I want her to feel fulfilled by her life, because she enjoys living, she doesn't take it for granted!

Shae. SHAE FOREVER AND EVER. I prefer her show counterpart - which, I do think they were trying to imply that she was higher class in Essos but ran away, but whatever, ignoring that - but that's largely because we really get to know Shae herself, through her own eyes. The way she grows to love Sansa, is desperate to protect her even against Tyrion! The way she chooses safety and comfort over love and testifies against Tyrion (the way the actress believed - and I do too!!!! - that she would have chosen Sansa, to protect Sansa, had she not been written by Those Dudes). "Your horse eats better than his children" is just an amazing line and she never lets Tyrion or Sansa forget that even with the troubled lives they've led, the smallfolk have a very good reason to resent them! And book Shae!!! She's just a young girl!!!!! She's a teenager picked out of the crowd by Bronn to be Tyrion's mistress, except she doesn't get to have all the safety and power that usually goes with being a mistress and she can't say no. She tries so hard to see the good in Tyrion, to see the intelligence, to get to know him, and she only stops when he gets physically violent with her. All she wants is safety, stability, and it's all ripped away from her before she's even reached twenty years old. She's treated like a pawn, both versions of her, a piece to be moved about by more important people, but she wasn't a piece, she was a girl, a woman, with her own dreams!

blahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh hard to narrow it down i’ll say KYRA (with the keys). She’s such an interesting, tragic character to me. The way she maneuvers to be Theon’s mistress, only for her trust in him to be completely betrayed when he assaults her. The way she very smartly realizes she can’t get home without Theon, and manages to rescue him and get SO CLOSE to freedom. She’s very much a quintessential sort of smallfolk character - she tries to rise above her station and is repaid by sexual abuse, literally hunted down for sport and gruesomely murdered. But at every turn, she tries so hard to assert her own agency!

Special mention because i debated that fifth spot a lot but Gendry, Nettles, and Alayaya are very close to my heart as well. I didn’t count the wildlings otherwise Ygritte and OSHA would be number two and three.

[onboardsorasora]

i’m obsessed with enchanted au daniel😭😭😭😭😭😭 hes so cute 😭😭😭 his mom is worried about people taking advantage of him🥺🥺

Omgosh Anonstie I saw this ask right before bed and this all just came rising out of me. 🥺🥺 he's her precious boy. Here's a little backstory on our disney princess. I hope you like it💕💕

Part 1

Part 2

Grace always told Daniel to be careful of people and he didn't always listen. Michelle tried to look out for him but she had her own life to live, as much as she loved him– she couldn't put her life on hold to protect him.

And he didn't expect her to. He didn't know why everyone made a big deal when he would go off driving by himself, or if he'd hike in the woods at the edge of the property. He knew he was supposed to let them know where he was– that's his bad– but sometimes the call of nature was just too powerful. The bird songs on the wind were too catchy, everyone wanted to show him the new babies they all had and he….he couldn't not go.

And it was fine for a bit, he felt bad when it looked like they were scared because he ran off but young Daniel didn't know any better. Truly.

People were nice and kind to him when he was a kid, even as a knobby kneed teenager with a huge fro, big bright eyes and a too big smile.

Michelle had told him not to do it, but he thought Caleb was his best friend. And you share your secrets with best friends. He learned the hard way that things change when people find out that you're magically adept and they aren't.

He thought it was all normal interactions until he started feeling uncomfortable at school, with people cornering him and asking to do things he couldn't or wouldn't do. Demanding that he do tricks or tell the animals around to do things that could hurt themselves.

The first time he came home with bruises, Michelle threatened to beat everyone up who hurt him. Daniel smiled and told her it was fine. They rode dirt bikes in the yard until dinner, and he asked her to not tell Mom.

The second time he came home with bruises, they also came with a cut lip. Grace cried and held him close. He told her that he saved a kitten, so all was well.

She kept him closer after that and he allowed her whatever made her feel comfortable. He wanted to be free to fly like the birds or race like the horses. But he stayed close to home because he loved it so.

He fell in love once…And he didn't sing for a year.

Grace cried when he came home because it was over.

Daniel's first tattoo was a ship, sailing on the high seas. The mom and dad banners fluttered in the wind when he showed them. They glowed with his happiness.

He never left Perth, he had no reason to. He had everything he ever needed at home. But the birds were compelling and their song spoke of adventure. And he got free snacks.

Part 3

[there-will-be-a-way]

Introduction to my parts

1. Chris | 2. Kiran | 3. Tato

4. Adrian | 5. Young N. | 6. Freya

7. BR | 9. Amely

Chris

Chris is a part who escapes real life by writing or playing video games. He comes out when I am stressed and flees from the world. He carries some heavy depression and feelings of alienation. The whole world is "too much" for him and he just wants to be left alone.

Kiran

I have no idea who this guy is. The only reason I know of his existence is that he has a profile in our SimplyPlural app and has written a message before.

Tato

Tato is a part who holds the positive memories of living with our family and caring for the horses. She misses our old life and has trouble with us being trans - she is the only part who still views us as a whole as a woman.

Adrian

Adrian is the part who holds our addictions. He is very depressed, suicidal and impulsive. He feels hopeless and stuck, as if every try to get better is in vain.

Young N.

Young N. is between 15 and 17 years old. He remembers some of our trauma and is angry about it - he is especially angry at the older parts who are in denial. He likes listening to Linkin Park and Rap and generally fits the role of an angry, angsty teenager.

Freya

Freya is a gatekeeper who can open "portals" in our inner world and move parts from one place to another. She is grumpy and shows she cares via tough love. She comes out in high stress situations and goes through the motions like a robot (aka without any feelings that make her "weak").

BR (aka "Business Rose")

BR is the responsible adult in our system. She handles appointments and deals with angry men, or people who make us uncomfortable in general. She is a huge fawner.

Amely

Amely is about 15 years old and a part who is loyal to our family. She is really homesick, although she remembers the trauma we went through in our childhood home. She carries a lot of guilt about being "a bad daughter" and cries easily.

Other parts:

N.

N. is a gatekeeper and our Big Boss who doesn't like being talked about so I leave it at that.

Darius

Darius is a social part who comes out only around our sister or parents. He formed during our first stay at a psych ward and fills the role of appearing to be happy, funny and easy going - he doesn't allow people to see our "broken" side.

Rose

Rose has been dormant for years. She holds the trauma with an ex partner and some of our family trauma. She was very caring towards other parts and worked hard on our healing.

"Me"

Me is a part who practices zen buddhism and helps other parts.