#honestly . i have doubts if this should be called cannibalism

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

made it to the cannibalism part of the fic . we rejoice

[rainroses45]

What’s in your burger?

☠︎︎description: A ghoulish discovery takes Dean by surprised, it truly was a hunter's biggest dilemma (Dean Winchester x Ghoul Fem! Reader) ☠︎︎a/n: Im watching monster high haunted and I got mega inspiration so expect more on the way plus im trying to clear out my draft box (Not Edited) ☠︎︎song inspiration: Cannibal - Kesha ☠︎︎warning: mention of eating human flesh, killing, you know the usual

PT2

Dean’s boots crunched through the brittle leaves as he stepped into the moonlit graveyard. He had followed the trail here. After hours of research and a series of desecrated graves in nearby towns, it all pointed to one thing: a ghoul. His grip on the shotgun tightened, and the salt-iron rounds loaded inside hummed with potential as he scanned the rows of headstones.

Then he saw you.

You were crouched by a fresh grave, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and—damn it—you looked up at him before he could make a move. The smirk that curved your lips stopped him cold. Or was it the blood dripping down your chin?

“Well, well, what do we have here?” you said, standing up and brushing dirt off your hands. Honestly what does it take for a girl to get a good piece of meat out here without the hassle of digging it up and cleaning it. “Big, bad hunter come to play judge, jury, and executioner? A little late now don't you think...it's been dead for what? A week.” You grinned.

“Don’t move,” Dean growled, raising the shotgun to aim squarely at your chest.

You didn’t flinch at his movement. Instead, you tilted your head and crossed your arms, looking more amused than frightened. “Let me guess, you think you’re the hero in this story? Protecting humanity from the big, scary monsters?”

He gritted his teeth. “That’s what you are, isn't? A monster.”

“Sure,” you drawled, stepping closer despite the gun. “But tell me, Hunter," you raised your hands in air quotations at the name hunter, how could they name such weak beings as predators when you are clearly the opposite of their prey - it was a very controversial topic discussed between your kind. "What’s so monstrous about eating what’s already dead? I highly doubt you've ever left a burger unfinished. It's the same principle really."

"I don't recall having human flesh in mine." He snarked back.

"No but you have a dead cow in yours, even a mysterious type of horse meat, and don't get me started with your historical history of surviving off human flesh- what was it called the Donna party no?" You smirked, oh how you loved hitting that specific nerve. "Not to mention there is a rumor going around about dear Sammy boy drinking demons blood - very demure I must say."

Dean faltered, his finger hovering over the trigger. Something in your tone—something confident, almost flirty—made him hesitate. He’d seen ghouls before, but none had ever talked to him like this - none have ever tried bargaining him with American history.

“Quit stalling,” he barked. “You’re just buying time to make a move.”

“Or,” you countered, stopping just out of arm’s reach, “maybe I’m not like the others. Maybe I don’t kill. Maybe you should ask why I’m here instead of shooting first.”

Dean hated how your words wormed their way under his skin, twisting his instincts. He’d been trained to hunt, not to hesitate, but here you were, sharp and self-assured, daring him to look deeper.

Before he could respond, a low growl echoed from the shadows. Dean’s focus snapped to the sound, his grip on the shotgun tightening.

“Friends of yours?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You turned toward the noise, your smirk fading. “Hardly. Ghouls don’t exactly do playdates.”

Two other ghouls emerged, their pale, feral faces twisted with hunger. They weren’t like you, they seemed more concern with expiration dates. Dean could see it immediately in the way they moved, in their gleaming yellow eyes, seemingly fixated on the two of you like prey.

“Looks like you get to play hero after all,” you said, stepping beside him.

“Stay out of my way,” Dean snapped, raising his shotgun as the ghouls lunged. They were too fast for him to prepare his aim. You darted forward with rapid speed, intercepting one of the attackers from reaching the hunter.

“You’re welcome,” you shot back at Dean, before pulling the man down and sinking your teeth into his neck. You pulled backwards as you disconnected his head from his body, and spitting his leftover flesh out of your mouth. "Sir needed some seasoning, oh my-" You let out a gag before you heard growling come from behind you. You had forgotten about thing two after puking up thing one.

Dean reloaded his weapon before firing at the other, the blast echoing through the graveyard. You were about to get up when unexpectedly a third ghoul came out of no where and tackled you to the floor. The second ghoul had crumpled down next to the first, but the third one who tackled you fought back viciously. Dean barely had time to reload before you slammed the ghoul’s head into a tombstone with a sickening crunch.

Panting, you stood, brushing off dirt as if it were nothing. Dean stared, still holding his shotgun at the ready.

“You’re not like them,” he admitted, lowering the weapon slightly.

“Took you long enough to figure that out,” you replied, smirking again. “But don’t worry, Hunter. I’ll let you make it up to me.”

Dean scowled. “We’re not friends.”

“Sure, sure,” you said, waving a hand dismissively. “But if you want to get out of here alive, you might need me. Plus I did save you a full load of ammo.”

Dean didn’t lower the shotgun completely, but he let it rest at his side. “You’re on a short leash, sweetheart.”

You grinned, sharpened teeth flashing in the moonlight. “Careful, Huntsmen. I might start to think you like me.”

And as much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn’t shake the truth. Something about you—your confidence, your humor, and the way you weren’t afraid of him—was already crawling under his skin. Who knows? Maybe he might take a page out of Sam's book, and trust a monster. "I mean how bad could it be?" He thought.

[the-heaminator]

11 for england, and anyone you fancy alongside >:)

11- "You're going to regret that." :D I went less feral than last time and forgot this in my drafts for a few months enjoyyyyyyy

(please comment por favor.)

(TW gore, cannibalism, romes shitty parenting)

Why did he have to fight?

Rome had named him Antinous, no one called him the name his mama gave him. He had all but forgotten it too, trying to find it was like slogging through a deep mire and it was not worth the trouble.

He hated fighting on orders. He had no choice though, he would not be fed if he lost, and he couldn’t stand hunger as well as he should do. Rome said his mama had spoiled him rotten, that was what he was told, but now he was strong because of it. Yet he always felt bad attacking that scrawny little runt from Britannia.

He was so small, and because he could never win, he was never fed, grown smaller, madder. Less and less human by the day.

And thus it repeated, it was growing impossible to lose against him, small, blonde and feral, all sparrow bones and gnashing teeth with very little substance behind it, Rome had tried and to an extent succeeded in civilising him. He had failed with the runt.

The thing still bared its teeth when scared, or angry, they were sharp little things, he looked like he carried illness, it was not hard to fight him, he was small and weak, and utterly battered by hunger.

Yet a mad little thing, it was a head and a half shorter than Antinous, but older, allegedly at least, practically a mute because his Latin was not good and was beat if he spoke in much else, he tried not to look at its eyes for too long.

Mouse had a brother, taller, stronger and older, but only barely, the runt only spoke with him in hushed whispers. He could beat the bigger one with ease too, neither had been given names yet, they had only been here for a short time, but long enough to be named surely?

 Rome could not be that indifferent to their existence, that was not wise, to ignore his most recent charges would be foolish. But as of yet he called the smaller one runt, because he was more mouse than man, a creature, afraid and skittish, ready to bite and snarl at the slightest touch.

Rome was watching now, he took some type of joy in watching them fight, he already knew the winner of course, it really was impossible for Antinous to lose, the runt could barely hold his gladius correctly and looked ready to collapse out of fear and exhaustion, Antinous was good with a gladius, the sword came from his people and all, he knew how to wield it.

It was insulting how little the runt even tried against him honestly, bared his belly and let Antinous do his worst, no doubt he would escape and go off to lick his wounds in the dark later. Like a frightened little puppy.

He hated such cowardice, he was not going to have his half-bred bastards to be cowards and weaklings, rolled over and took the blow, if he thought it would get him any amount of pity he was wrong.

It wouldn't, not if he was here, he could not afford to raise cowardice or pity. Antinous hated it for something different, he couldn’t bring himself to hurt him if the runt couldn't bring himself to fight.

No no no, he would not have this.

He almost squeaked when he was lifted from his side like an unruly little creature, there was some improvement in him, Rome noted, very little, but there was some. When speaking to him, he no longer snarled and just stayed quiet. Good, he had to learn obedience or he would not survive in such a world.

“Boy, why do you not fight?” He did not expect much of an answer, he only spoke his barbarian language readily, but he got an answer in Latin. Slow and heavy like cold honey.

“H-Hungry, no food.”

“You will only be fed if you win.” Flat, be all and end all “Antinous can attest to that.” 

Rome  turned over to him, blank-eyed and covered in mousey blood, he still needed training, and yelled “Don’t you, boy .” There was menace beneath those words and he almost bolted, he did not want to be here to witness whatever Rome was about to do to the mouse. But didn’t. He was not a coward.

“He can fight and is fed. You need to stop being a coward and fight." Rome knew it understood very little of what he said, too scared and starved and ill to even try. Once more he set him down to fight. Barely sinking into the sand under his feet.

He went in for the blow, and paused halfway through, no, he couldn’t. The mouse was standing now, but barely, a head shorter and so much thinner, how could he fight someone so much weaker than him? He had a heart yet, and it screamed at him that this was not right.

 So much weaker, it wouldn't even be good training for him. He could spare him. He could, he should, it was not worth a death, dying hurt, regenerating hurt more. And you needed food to regenerate. He was always utterly starved after he had to regenerate, and the mouse had no food.

He would be more starved than before, and then he would lose more fights, and then he would be fed less, and over, and over, and over….

It was not right, no.

But orders had to be followed or he would end up on the wrong side of the sword, he was not noble enough for such a thing, to die for someone like that, some thing rather, orders would have to be followed, it was best to not think of him as a boy, and think of it as a creature. He had fought many animals, this would be no different.

Thrust the sword and tore a hole, slashed and cut at his skin, his gladius went through like a hot knife through butter, he knew it would be easy, it always was. Yet it was always a surprise how little substance the mouse seemed to have to him, paper-thin skin and sparrow bones, no fat and barely enough meat to feed a stray mutt. Blood spilling onto the sand, and both of them wrinkled their nose, even Rome had to admit blood should not smell like that, dipped his fingers in the hole, and tasted the blood, it tasted wrong too. Human blood should taste like iron. This tasted bitter. Already rotting and he had been dead barely a moment.

Rome knew the boy could have spared it he knew that, but his mutt would not be falling with such a pathetic creature, he was better than that

   Yes. The mouse was pathetic, Antinous would keep telling himself that, over and over in his head till he believed it.

But it didn’t feel good, bile in his throat and a shiver in his hand. He felt powerful, yes, but the feeling made him ill and light-headed. Was this what being drunk with power felt like? How did Rome like this? It frightened him.

It was an odd feeling, terrifying, intoxicating, a dizzying concoction. Rome looked at him like he was a dog, his dog.

To make up for it today he decided to share his hard-won food with the runt once he was revived, Rome would not be pleased, but he would not kill him for it, hopefully.

Rome knew the boy lived for praise, like a dog, he didn’t often have to punish Antinous, a pat on the head and some food tamed him, a simple creature. He wouldn’t rebel, standing off to the side, covered in blood with a haunted look in his eyes. No matter how strong he was you could only be as ruthless as your heart let you, and the boy was still soft inside.

Looking down at the dead little mouse, gored through the abdomen, called Antinous over, forced him to look down at what he had done, his power “You will do great things, boy.”

“As you say, Master.” He could hear him swallow thickly, he didn’t cry, he was not a child.

He continued, staring down at the runt’s body, decaying faster than it should "You should have no place in your heart for pity, especially not for the weak.” 

He could see the boy wrestling with his mind, mouth slightly open before snapping shut again and thinking longer, fingers entwined and wringing, it wouldn’t wring out the blood, it had started to crust, mouth open again, Rome wanted to see if the boy was stupid enough to try and speak.

And he was, it was not his brightest moment “Forgive me, Master, but why do you make me fight the mouse, he is not well and if he keeps dying he will only get smaller and weaker. Why do you not feed him.”

Still soft in the mind. He looked at the child coldly, and then to the bleeding corpse on the ground. 

Always such a sight to see the small one heal, he was so fast, decaying faster than most, skin rotted fast and fell off in thick black clumps, blood dried and flies swarmed almost at double speed. Brittle bones bared themselves before he started to stitch himself back together, faster than the others too.

Flesh over his bones wove like a loom, thinner and weaker. But alive.

Painfully alive

He didn’t have it in him to get up and curled up in a pained little ball instead, licking his wounds surely, if he was to act more beast than man then he would be treated as such.

It made Antinous feel a little sick, to see the little thing shiver and suffer solely because he was just following orders, because he was too scared to do otherwise.

Rome’s eyes were cold “He is weak, yes, and he is sick, but why be soft with such a thing.” He was looking directly into Antinous’ eyes, “Would you rather he suffer now or suffer forever, finish him off now and he will not have to live like an animal.”

Antinous could feel Rome’s hand on his shoulder, it was a gentle grip yet.

“Besides, he is more animal than human, he is not like us. You are not like him. Pity is for the weak. Are you weak?”

He could feel the grip on his shoulder tightening, he could taste blood and he didn’t know why, swallowed thickly, he should not be afraid of his Master, but he was.

Rome could see the thoughts whirring in his head like a storm, “Then why don’t you name him?”

“Do you think he warrants a name, do you think he is enough of a person to deserve one.”

He felt his cheeks flush red, he should have kept his mouth shut…but well…he had already started to talk, what harm would a bit more be?

“Yes. He does. Sir.”

Rome did not expect such disagreement, not out of Antinous of all people, tightened his grip on the boy's shoulder till he heard him hiss in pain, he could draw blood, but chose against it, spoke so close to his ear that Antinous could feel his breath on his neck.

“Then what would you like to call him?”

Antinous had not genuinely given this thought, he hadn’t expected Rome to humour him, and now he was at a loss for words. Rome dug his fingers deeper into his shoulder, Antinous could feel the skin puncturing, it would have healed rapidly too, had Rome not kept the wound open.

Between the pain, he managed to hiss out “Ask him about it, Master, ask him his name.”

“He does not speak to me, if he wants to play a mute then why should I coax him out of it.” He withdrew his hand, Rome could see the blood stain his shirt.  “He is mine as you are mine, and did I ask for your name?”

He did have a point there, a nasty little point it was, but a point nonetheless.

“You did not.”

Rome was looking through him, he didn’t know why.

"You will regret asking that. Boy." His eyes fixed somewhere behind Antinous.

"Regret what?"

He found out when a sword bit into his throat and the world faded to black, the last thing Antinous saw were eyes greener than they should be.

Greener than any gemstone, any leaf, and they were as mad as they were green. Hungry

Antinous knew he had let his guard down, but could you blame him, he had thought he had disposed of the mouse, it hadn’t even tried to fight, he was now. 

To Rome fighting wasn’t the right word, attacking, desperation perhaps, he had indulged in human flesh  plenty before, the feeling of warm flesh under your fingers, blood pooling and desperate writhing was a feeling you could not match. But this was different.

Simply put this was gluttony, animalistic gluttony, the mouse gutted Antinous barehanded, holding up his heart to the sun like a spoil of war to Mars.

                                    Before biting into it.

Oh, the sweet joy of satisfying hunger left to fester for too long. He made such a pretty noise with his sharp little elbows buried in Antinious' chest. Rome would like to remember that sound. 

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Tillie finally posted the cover for Book 3 and it’s so gorgeous imo! It’ll be coming out in June 2025

Oh suuuuuure, Tillie, just drop the Book 3 cover on me while I'm at work and can't post about it, that's fiiiiiiiiine.

But yes, Tillie Walden posted the cover for Book 3 and honestly? I actually like it, y'all.

I really like the colors here, they're lovely.

So, we've got Clementine, Ricca, Olivia, Fen, and the cat, Dr. Barnwell featured on the cover pretty predominantly, which is interesting given the designs of the previous covers.

Doing a little bit more research, I also found this:

"Clementine suffers a loss unlike anything she's ever faced"... I mean, I have some doubts about that given I've, y'know, played the games and know a lot about the losses Clementine's suffered.

The darkest turn I could see would be Olivia losing her baby... which Clementine has been with someone who lost her baby before: Christa. I mean, if Tillie pulls out a walker baby in this final installment, I'll be surprised... though we should keep in mind that Tillie herself had a baby not too long ago, so I don't know how willing she is to take that route, y'know? It's an exceptionally dark topic to begin with, but she's written about some other very serious and heavy topics so if she's willing, I'm willing to give it a go.

But listen... "The Gardener"?? Tell me more?? If they're the new antagonist, please be better than Miss Morro?? I beg of you??? The implications of someone, a "mentor," called The Gardener that offers her a new family, and a "new way of living"???? "but at what cost"???

Y'all, are they joining a cult? Please tell me they're joining a cult.

Clementine had that line about cults in Book One. Foreshadowing? Tillie, you genius.

I'm only partially joking. Book One was the perfect set up for a cannibalism plot twist and it just... didn't do that. Book Two could've done something way more interesting with Miss Morro, but just... didn't.

So maybe this time it really will just go for it.

My promise still stands though: If Amos comes back as a twist villain, the book gets an immediate 5/5 stars, no questions asked.

[fanby-fckry]

"Charlie and Vaggie Talk idk what to call this" has a compelling vibe to it and I am very fulfilled by good/interesting ChaggieTimes

WIP Game

Thanks for the ask! That one is actually another installment in my Raze Hell series.

My Fallen Exorcist OC, Raze, has made its life’s mission to be a thorn in Vaggie’s side, and naturally, Charlie and Vaggie have to have some talks about it.

It’s basically going to be a series of discussions between the two of them, dealing with the stress of Raze, trying to balance the image of the hotel against the safety and comfort of the residents, and dealing with some ghosts from Vaggie’s past that having another ex-Exorcist around brings up.

There’s gonna be some emotional hurt/comfort, some guilt from both parties as Vaggie blames herself for attracting Raze’s attention and Charlie wonders if she’s doing the right thing.

Eventually, Alastor comes up with a plan (read: scheme) which will be discussed in the fic to be posted right before this, and that adds a whole other level to things. Charlie is hopeful, as Charlie is wont to be, and Vaggie doesn’t want to let her down, despite her doubts on the matter.

I’m not gonna spoil what the plan is because it’s a major plot point, but I will say that Vaggie falls (ha, falls) into old codependent habits when it comes to sacrificing her comfort for the sake of Charlie’s dream.

It’s not much besides dialogue right now, because I wanted to jot that down directly after writing the conversation between Alastor and Charlie in the previous WIP, but I think the dialogue is pretty funny, so I’m gonna add it, below the cut! (There’s also a little hint of RadioApple rivalry and the implication of Vaggie getting protective over Charlie, should she get caught in the crossfire.)

Content Warning: mentions of canon-typical violence (it’s literally just mentioned though, no details whatsoever)

Note: Because I haven’t gotten around to adding a lot of dialogue tags, I��m using placeholders, [C] for Charlie and [V] for Vaggie, in most lines. On the final product they’ll be replaced or removed depending on the line.

[C] “I was just talking with Alastor…” [V] “Did he say something about your dad again?” [C] “No, not this time. Actually, we were talking about Raze.” Vaggie cursed under her breath. “I already told him we can’t kill them.” [C] “Oh, that’s the best part! He didn’t suggest murder.” [V] “Really?” [C] “Not even once! No torture or cannibalism either!” [V] “Wow.” [C] “I was surprised too! But for once he doesn’t think violence is the answer!” “So, um… what did Alastor have to say about Raze?” Honestly, Vaggie was having trouble coming up with ideas to deal with Raze that didn’t involve violence. Alastor was the last person she would’ve expected to suggest a peaceful solution. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or suspicious.

Also, for those not familiar with the series, Raze uses it/its, but because it didn’t feel the need to introduce itself with pronouns and won’t correct anything but she/her, Vaggie and Charlie use they/them. I had Angel clock Raze as having transed its gender so that I wouldn’t have to outright misgender my boything via narration. The sacrifices I make to keep my 3rd person limited POV…

[chl-owo-e]

★-{Wild Sunflowers}-★

(Daryl Dixon X Reader)

Summary; The past hurts, even when the wound healed it still feels like it’s bleeding. But sometimes you have to rip off the bandaid, if not the pain wont get any better.

Warnings; Flash back, readers past before the fall, Angst, fluff, blood, wounds, walkers, family death, normal TWD stuff.

————————————————

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[Chapter Two/002]

-(what used to be)-

————————————————

—“This is a Public Announcement”

“Do not go outside.”

“If you see any injured people do not go near them they are aggressive, and will hurt you on sight.”

“I repeat do not go outside.”

“The government will help as many as they can, but in the meantime.”

“Good Luck.”

The TV rang throughout the living room in the small apartment. The announcement repeated every single time, no channel was left untouched with it either.

A somber feeling was only left in the air, as you sat on the couch with your friend next to you. “This has to be a joke right? They can’t honestly think that we’ll fall for that.” You spoke with a chuckle at the end. “I don’t know Y/n, maybe they’re right. It is all on the channels—Look! Even the kids TV.” Your friend replied as they searched through the sea of TV channels.

“Turn it off Alex…Please.” You calmly said before getting up and walking to the kitchen for a cup of water. They turn the electronic device off and places the remote on the couch cushion. “Do you think they will help us?” They ask as they walk to the kitchen bar and sat down. “I doubt it.” You replied in a gruesome tone. “Are we even safe where we are?”

“A biomedical facility in France has accidentally let out an airborne Virus.”

“Scientists are quickly trying to make a vaccine for this deadly Virus.”

“If caught you will have symptoms of, fever, coughing, vomiting.”

“Quarantine the ones that are sick as it is highly contagious.”

“Y/n…Y/n…Y/n! Are you even listening to me?” Alex yells and asks. “Uhh, yeah—sorry.” You reply still thinking about the news channel you saw a couple of weeks ago. “Sure, whatever you say. Like I was saying, do you think were safe where we are? You’ve seen those videos! The people are literally attacking and eating one another! Its horrible!” Alex continues and cries out.

“We should be fine, we live on the third floor. Other than that, the only things we have to worry about is our neighbors.” You had turned to them with the glass still in your hand half empty with water. You had let out a deep sigh as your eyes turned to the window by the TV. It was dark outside besides a few helicopter lights shining below the roads and streets. There were loud but silent screams throughout the city.

Setting down the cup you walk towards the windows and quickly shut the curtains. “We should probably call our family, and check up on them. This could be something the world can’t bounce back from.” Your voice had saddened, and you looked at Alex. Nothing was left in your head besides survival. The videos of people getting torn apart was horrifying, but you only thought it was part of some new movie they were going to make. But of course, you were wrong. It was real and people have went to cannibalism as some cure to stop this.

A week had passed and food was already almost gone. Mistake number one, not going to the store days before the end of the world. Alex seems to not care anymore, like their life is nothing. After the third day of being stuck in the apartment any internet you had disappeared. So we lost connection to our family and any other friends we had out there. All we could do now is hope that they’re still alive and more successful than we are.

“Maybe we should go and get more food.” Alexs voice had snapped you out of your thoughts. You had looked at them with glassy eyes contemplating what they had just said. “Thats a good idea, but we have no clue if anyone else is alive besides us.” Your monotonous voice came out of your mouth. “Its worth a try, we could just go to our neighbors jenny and paul. If they’re alive they will for sure help us.” Their voice came out hopeful, even when they lost hope for what they had left. They still wanted to survive.

It wasn’t long when the two of you had gotten your items together. You had a knife on hand, and Alex had a bat in the other. You gave each other a determined look before opening the front door to leave for the first time. It was silent, no noises, no messes other than some random pieces of plastic. You quickly look to both sides making sure that it was clear before you left into the hallway. You had turned left walking slowly, to your neighbors apartment. You knocked lightly when you seen Alex on the look put behind you with their bat ready to swing at anything.

But nothing came out of it, neither one of the couple answered the door. You tried the knob and to your surprise it opened. “Come on, it’s unlocked!” You had whisper yelled to Alex. The black wooden door slowly swung open. The place was trashed, food wrappers everywhere and surprisingly some blood splatters too. Both of you had made way into the house closing the door behind you. Alex was the first person to check out the place for Paul and Jenny. You had quickly yet quietly went into the kitchen and started stock piling on some canned food that was left. Everything was going good till you heard their scream.

You had dropped your backpack on the wooden floor in the kitchen and ran to Alex with your knife in hand. You followed their voice and into a bedroom where Alex was fighting off a very wretched looking person. They’re back was faced towards a door as they violently beaten the rotten corpse. Your voice had came out too late when you saw the door open. It was Paul, except his body was rotting and bloody. Alex had turned, yet it was too late. Paul had his hand on them.

The screams, the absolute terror that was inscribed on Alexs face. It will be ingrained in your memory forever. Then they had dropped their bat, now trying to rip themselves from the grip of the monster that was eating them. You couldn’t move, it was like everything was going in slow motion. Your body was shaking, there was nothing you could do Alex was done for.

“HELP ME!”

“PLEASE!”

“Y/N!”

“HELP—”

Everything had faded and all went to black. You had shot up from you makeshift bed, only to be greeted with Daryl kicking at your leg. Gasps had left your mouth and a light sheen of cold sweat had graciously covered your body. “Took ya long enough been tryn’ to wake ya up for the pas’ hour thought you were dead.” His country accent was deeper, like he just woke up. “What the hell is wrong with you for waking me up at this time of day?” You grumbled as you rubbed your eyes and stared at the sun that was still barely over the horizon.

“Were goin’ huntin’. Now get yur ass ready.”

———————————————————————

A/N;I tried to get a gender neutral name for the friend. so that you could think of them as whatever gender you wanted. I also didnt want to just put F/n (friends name) cus personally i read ff to get away from life, and i didn’t want that to take away from the experience.

This is also a shortish chapter I kinda wish I wrote this longer but oh well

[8bitsupervillain]

Higurashi When They Cry Hou Ch. 2 Watanagashi pt. 19

The thing that annoys me the most about this is how Keiichi is just crying out a river because "oh man, the discrimination, poor Mion." None of this excuses her actions in the slightest! Everything she mentioned up until this point happened years before she was born! Did the stigma of being born in Hinamizawa continue well into the sixties and seventies? Just because your grandfather was accused of cannibalism and smuggling long pork doesn't justify you killing people! You can argue she's following the spiritual laws of Hinamizawa regarding the breaking and entering, fine. She doesn't seem to put much truck in with the cult of Oyashiro at all, but fine, she's upholding traditions and all that jazz. Why then did she have to kill Satoko?

Does the claim for divinity mean she had to be the hatchet man for all of the deaths and disappearances? "Some were related to the Kimiyoshi and Furude families" she claims, but that's blatantly not true. The dam foreman, unrelated to the three families. The deaths of Satoko's dad and mom, unrelated to the three families. The death of Satoko's aunt, unrelated to the three families, the disappearance of Satoshi Houjou, unrelated. The only death and disappearance that's related to the three families is the Furude priest and his wife. That's it. Is this a roundabout confession that one of the Sonozaki family were directly involved with the dam foreman? Was that also Mion?

Oh fuck OFF KEIICHI! Rena is absolutely right to point this out. Despite all her "justifications" Mion is still a murderer. She's a murderer WHO KILLED YOUR FRIENDS.

I just have to say, I love Rena for not buying Mion's shit for a minute and just point blank calling her out on it. She's this meme picture:

and I adore her for it. Keiichi is just being needlessly sympathetic, and it's honestly extremely irritating.

"Maybe Rika shouldn't have skipped arm day! Her lack of gains is what got her killed!"

If you demand that Rika and the mayor take responsibility for their part in the break in why did you wait several days before getting them? You got Tomitake and Takano instantly, why did you feel the need to wait to go after Kimiyoshi and Rika? More to the point, if you knew immediately who broke in to the storehouse why did you wait to get Shion (who I still doubt is actually gone), and Keiichi? Why not whisk them away when you did Tomitake and Takano? This story isn't adding up.

I had to stop here, I just couldn't handle it any more. Keiichi is such a baffling character that he decided that the six kills on Mion's hands are his fault? Why? If he had admitted to the breaking and entering that day to Mion, Ooishi, Shion, the emperor, the governor, Rika, Satoko, the UN, all of US Congress, the president, events still would've played out more or less like this. Rika would still have to die because she let the break-in happen, same with the mayor, Satoko probably still would've died too because she seemed aware that Mion was up to no good, Shion would have "disappeared" too. I find his extreme guilt about situations well out of his control to be frustrating. Even if he did peace out when Takano and the rest broke in, they still would've gone in without him! Would he still blame himself then? Probably, because "if only I could've convinced them!"

You know what this reminds me of? This whole set up reminds me of that one characters death in Danganronpa V3, the secret prime minister. Everyone acted like they should have died in place of her, and it was extremely frustrating to read that as well.

Now that I've had a moment to think about it other things about this confession don't make sense. What was the point about freaking out Keiichi by claiming Satoko is cursed? The kicks? Was it a bizarre attempt to try to scare him into confessing? Was it some sort of ploy to get Keiichi to start being suspicious of Satoko? For what ends if so? Is she just trying to shift whatever guilt she feels about Satoshi onto her?

I'm sure since I stopped mid-scene it's all going to be explained, but I think the only way this makes sense is if that's not Mion. It's Shion pretending to be Mion, and she's biding her time to try to run and switch back to the Shion persona and pin it all on Mion.

[theacedragon0w0]

Food for Thought

Sage having some reflection in cannibal town plus some Willow×Iris for the soul

Willow and Hazel belongs to the fabulous @puffymucher

Rosalina cameo for @mirconreadzztuff22

And Iris ofc belongs to the pookie @helluvadyke

Sage was excited to hang out with Iris and Willow today, there was a new bakery that recently opened up and Sage volunteered to scope it out for her wives, Hazel begged Velvette to let her go with Sage but Velvette reminded her that she will absolutely buy the store clean. Rosalina was away on a business trip with Ozzie so Sage asked Iris if they can meet up, with the deal that if there is any trouble that Sage will contact Velvette asap.

Sage spotted Iris at the front entrance and called the bloodhound for her attention, both bouncing as they hugged each other.

"Sagey it has been way too long!"

"We were literally escorting our bosses for a meeting last week," Sage chuckled.

"That doesn't count! That was strictly business, we definitely need to hang out that doesn't involve us standing behind our bosses."

"Like that ever is a complaint," Sage teased, looking behind Iris to see another hellhound that stood silent. The Doberman guard nodded along to the conversation, smiling whenever Iris looked over her shoulder to exchange glances.

Willow reminded Sage of Hazel, she was intimidating at first but seeing how she acted around Iris reassured Sage of the new addition to Rosie's security. The soft touches the two would exchange, not to mention that Sage saw the two split one of Sage's packed snacks which sealed Sage's approval. Honestly, Sage thought, those two were one of the cutest couples in hell.

The three entered the bakery, what caught Sage's eye was the large display case of the numerous types of pastries and cakes. Sage's gaze stopped at the sample plate, it holding carefully decorated hors d'oeuvres, with each one having a finger sticking out.

Iris waved her hand in front of Sage, "Hey SageCake, you alright?" With both already been trying out the free snacks on the plate.

"How do fingers taste?"

Iris was taken aback from the quick question, "well it depends on the demon who's finger is being eaten, the most common flavor is pork, the second one being chicken-"

Willow nudged Iris on her side, cutting off Iris' rant, pointing to Sage's prosthetic, "We can go to a different bakery if seeing these samples is bugging you."

Iris' face lost some of it's color as she realized the full weight of that statement, "Fuck me i forgot your whole hand thing, Willy's right we can go somewhere else with better tastes,"

Sage lifted her right hand, stopping the bloodhounds sentence, Sage looked at their prosthetic, the robotic fingers bending and flexing at her will, "To be honest, I am not bothered by it, maybe a little less than I should."

Sage then remembered all the events that came after that night, how they sought sanctuary at the hotel, getting their first prosthetic by Sir Pentious, being recruited by Velvette, nearly dying by holy arms, the physical therapy that their partner's helped them through, the rough nights that ended in a warm embrace.

They also remembered the look on the squads face when they gave her back her denim jacket, the one they were currently wearing.

Sage took a deep sigh, "Look, that chapter in my life is far behind me, and even if we found out where they sold my hand, it's pretty much a waste of time. Honestly the only thing that I think about it is how I would taste,"

"Oh I could help with that~" Iris smirked, wiggling her eyebrows that caused a snorting fit from Sage.

"I don't doubt that, now let me order some of these cakes for Hazel, and save me a sample too! I can see you guys nearly cleaning off the plate!"

The sillies ever your honor

[beelsbignaturals]

Dead is The New Alive

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Warnings: Blood, aggression, mild injury, disassociation, death mention, general vampire activities (blood drinking), strong language

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Over the course of a week or so–Honestly my perception of time is skewed–I'm on what is essentially house arrest. Not that I have it in me to try and do much of anything. Any school related activities have been put on hold. Most of my days are spent hiding in the dark of my room. Everyone else seems to want everything to go back to normal. I do too, but it's just not happening.

It seems that overall, luck is on my side. I haven't seen Belphegor since the incident. I doubt I could keep up this charade otherwise. On the other end of things, Beel also hasn't been around much. I thought we were friends, but I can't hold a candle to his favorite brother. 

Occasionally one of the brothers will try to entice me out of my safe haven. Attempts are met with the nearest item I can find flying through the air. I don't know why I'm responding like this. I wish I understood what was going on. 

Hours upon hours are spent crouched in the far corner of my room. It's the only place I feel safe enough to nod off. To be honest that's just the routine now. Sitting here, watching the door and taking note of where everyone is at any given time by the sound of footsteps. 

Whenever someone has the audacity to stay despite my precision yeeting I eventually lay off the violence and accept my fate. If I speak at all it's an apology that's quickly waved off. If it's Lucifer or Satan they waste their breath trying to pry answers about that night out of me. Mammon and Asmo try to get me to engage at all. Their efforts are in vain. I just stare at the wall. Rarely, Levi will sit on the other end of my room playing some mobile game in silence. In return I throw the softest pillows at him. It's the little things. 

I'm thankful for the quiet that settles over the house in the early hours of the morning. Nothing but ticking clocks, mice, and the occasional sound of Beelzebub rummaging through the fridge. 

Sometimes, when I'm sure I won't get caught, I force my aching joints into motion so I can venture outside. I don't really go anywhere. I just find somewhere to sit. Enjoying the silence. 

Foggy nights are my favorite. When the air is heavy and mist wraps around me like a weighted blanket. Moonlight illuminates nearby spiderwebs. I like watching the tiny creatures run around. It's peaceful.

Out in the night air, sometimes I think about just how absurd my life has become in just a few months. 

It seems just yesterday I got that stupid letter. 

Congratulations!

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Royal Academy of Diavolo.

Please return this letter with your signature to confirm your participation.

We are looking forward to welcoming you as part of our new exchange program.

Yours sincerely,

Diavolo

Waking up in a room full of demons was, at the time, definitely in the running for the weirdest thing to happen to me.  

After hitting my head on a table, I stood with all the grace of a newborn deer. Despite the irritating phone call, a dramatic and very handsy demon,  one who nonchalantly mentions he might cannibalize me, and a dude literally named Satan.... I did my best to go along with the chaos. I had thought.  "Well, if this isn't a hallucination, then I don't exactly have a choice in the matter." Plus, the free tuition thing is pretty sick. 

The first week was a blur. Wake up. Go to class. Put up with shenanigans. Sleep. Repeat. At some point I make a pact with the Avatar of Greed. Normal university things. 

It's the first serious brush with death that really made me think hmmm maybe "fuck it, we ball" isn't how I should proceed. After a trivia battle gone wrong, Mammon lectured me while bandaging an injured wrist. About halfway through I finally stopped disassociating. 

"Holy shit he could've killed me." That astute observation had earned me an eye roll from the second born. 

"I just said that! Weren't you listening? More trouble than your worth...." he goes off again. Honestly, I wasn't really paying attention.  

The next few days, I kept to myself, jumping at every sound. 

Eventually, Levithan corners me after class. 

"If I make a pact with you will you stop sulking? It's weird."  

I almost refused. Almost. Common sense kicked in and I came to a realization. If a pact can make Mammon call me my name, as opposed to "annoying" or "human" or "annoying human"... Maybe this is how I'll survive the year. Surely the more powerful demons I have bound to me, the safer things will be. 

"Deal."

Man… if you had told me back then I'd learn to love the very same unsettling creatures who kidnapped me…. Honestly I'm not even sure that this isn't some strange case of stockholm syndrome. Or the fact I'm now some sort of vampire? Anyways, I'd think you were crazy. Oh how times change. 

Some time later I'm escorted to the Demon Lord's Castle. Honestly, I feel like hot garbage but Lucifer insists that there is very important business I need to be present for. No amount of arguing makes him budge. Fortunately for me it's the middle of the night since even the weak otherworldly light in the Devildom causes major skin irritation. Despite the total lack of a sun. No amount of SPF can save me. 

I must be a sight to see. Sweaty, and tripping over everything. Both the artificial and candlelight so bright I can hardly think. It's best to keep my eyes closed as much as possible.

I'm grateful neither Diavolo or Barbatos comment on the state I'm in. 

I'm dragged along through more corridors than I can count. Eventually ending up in the dungeons...wait what? 

I try not to hyperventilate. I probably fail. It is kind of hard not to panic when you can hear the screams and pleading of tortured souls. The uncharacteristic silence from the chaotic demons just fuels my fear. What the fuck. Am I being arrested? For self defense? Or destruction of property? No way. That can't be it. I nearly draw blood due to my newfound habit of chewing my lip with the single fang occupying my mouth.

We stop outside a dark cell. Down here my eyes can actually adjust. At least I can see again. That said, maybe I'd rather not see the cobblestone walls stained with blood from who knows how many individuals. Will mine join them?

Behind bars, there's a hunched figure. They look up as we approach, through a mop of tangled green hair. The pointed teeth protruding from their mouth make me realize. Oh. They're like...me. 

"Alaura," a gloved hand lands on my shoulder making me jump. "All you need to do is identify this...pest, as your attacker and we can go home." Part of me is so incredibly relieved. The other part is pissed. 

Uh, yeah, not happening. How the fresh fuck would they expect me to confirm or deny that this dude tried to kill me. I didn't see shit. 

I lift my head enough to glare at Lucifer. And inform him once again, I saw nothing. 

Blah blah blah, "I took that into consideration however..." screwing my eyes shut, I shake my head. 

"Dude, can you shut up? I feel like shit. And really, who cares if they killed me I'm already dead! Undead. Whatever!"

Fuck. I'm so dizzy I can't tell up from down. I stumble a bit before Beelzebub reaches out to steady me. I push him away in favor of supporting my weight against a nearby wall. 

After catching my breath I continue my rant.  "I mean if anyone should be in prison it's that shady brother of yours who started this all. I mean I wouldn't be in this situation if he didn't try to fuckin kill me!" I'm hysterical at this point but I don't care. I've started and I can't stop. This is the most I've spoken in days. Every word left unsaid is spilling out. 

"And how can you call that place my home?! You kidnapped me, threatened my life, promised to keep me safe, threatened me again..."

My vision blurs once again. I hear footsteps backing away. Good. Part of me doesn't want to be angry. But I can't deal with their shit today.

"You all let me DIE!"

The ringing is stronger now and I can barely breathe. Wow, the floor is alot closer now. 

A new voice joins the mix. One that sounds nearly as broken as I feel. 

"When, might I ask, is the last time you morons fed the fledgling?" 

 Now that everyone has their attention on the cell, I can see past the wall of demons well enough to watch the other vampire get up, angry gesturing punctuates his words. 

When no one responds, he continues on ranting, bloodshot eyes illuminated by the torchlight. I suppose fire sets the mood for being skinned alive much better than any electricity ever could. 

"Of course! You couldn't pour piss from a boot with instructions on the heel! For the love of Christ someone get my stash-- which is from a consenting donor so don't get any ideas-- and feed the poor thing!" 

It's almost comical how he orders the demons around. Even more funny is the fact they listen. Running around like chickens with their heads cut off. The fact my vision is still swimming, making it look like there's two of everything only adds to the hilarity. 

I laugh to myself and close my eyes, trying to make the room stop spinning. In no time, someone is kneeling down beside me. 

"Take this." It's Barbatos. He hands me a glass of what, for the sake of my last shred of sanity, I tell myself is cranberry juice. Obviously I am skeptical.

I can do this. If Solomon can eat his own cooking and survive I can have some... juice. Bottoms up. Within seconds the liquid is gone. Honestly, it's not as bad as I feared. Oddly metallic. The texture is all wrong. It felt like it shouldn't shouldn't be room temperature. But it's something I guess I will get used to. Eventually. Not like I have a choice. 

A hand reaches to take the empty glass and there's a sound like an angry cat. When everyone stares at me in shock I can only assume I made that noise. 

Barbatos holds up his hands in defeat, stepping back. 

Now it's Asmo's turn to crouch down.  "Alaura, hon, we'll get you some more once this is all over 'Kay? You'll be much more comfy at home. Plus, it's so musty down here, don't you agree?" 

I shrug. "What else is there to say. I didn't see anything. End of story." 

Finally, Diavolo speaks up. Voice hoarse, almost like he'd been crying. Strange.

"It seems further investigation will be required. My deepest apologies for wasting your time." 

"Excuse me, did anyone think to ask me about this crime you accuse me of? I suppose you don't need intelligence to run a kingdom these days..."

Lucifer is quick to offend, despite the fact the insults are clearly directed to Diavolo. Actually that's probably why. 

"Why you little--"

"Lucifer, that won't be necessary." A sharp glare from the Prince silences him. 

"Saturday night you were unaccounted for. That same night one of my exchange students is violently attacked by a vampire. You are the only vampire I have any recollection of being here in decades. Otis, explain yourself." 

The vampire,  Otis, squares his shoulders. Which isn't that intimidating since he looks like he has one foot in the grave, but, hey! He certainly looks less meek when he isn't sitting on the damp ground.

"If you took the time beforehand to extend this... courtesy, you would know I spent the evening visiting an old friend. The other exchange student." His words drip with venom. 

"Solomon can prove your innocence? You are willing to bet your freedom and your life on the sorcerer?" 

"I am." 

With that, Lord Diavolo sends his faithful butler to fetch the local wizard. Unfortunately, no one thinks hey! Maybe we should send Alaura back home! so I'm stuck waiting around. Yay.

On the bright side, when Barbatos returns he brings more… juice. Otis seems like he might find the strength to break through the metal bars and fight me for it. 

After a very awkward conversation in which Solomon reminds everyone Diavolo is literally a walking lie detector, finally, things are settled. Otis is cleared of any charges, and, most importantly, at least to my life, I can be hauled back to the House of Lamentation. Fucking finally.

[dragonbanexxi]

Soul of Bronze; Blood of Fire

Not Canon Compliant!!!

Helaena Targaryen x OC Targaryen Royce

The Heir of Runestone would often joke that he should be referred to as Rhaegar Stone. Seeing as his father (Prince Daemon Targaryen) had no want for him and his mother (Lady Rhea Royce) was long dead. All jokes end when he and Ser Gerold Royce are summoned to the capitol by none other than King Viserys the First of his Name. The King wanting nothing more than to bring his estranged nephew into the fold, Viserys offers Rhaegar his so called Targaryen Right. A betrothal to the Princess Helaena and the chance to claim a dragon. Will Rhaegar be able to claim such a beast? Even if his valyrian skills were lacking? Prince Aemond seems to think so. Though he’s mostly is just thrilled to finally have someone around who’s willing to be his friend. Also the court begins to notice that the Princess Helaena seems to have taken a liking to the new prince. Much to her mothers dismay, who’s fighting tooth and nail to have the girl be given to Aegon. Something neither sibling wanted. To Rhaegar everything was going smoothly until the news of Laena Velaryon death had dampen everything.

Chapter 10: Ser Laenor

“You all should have seen him! My nephew a top the fearsome Cannibal, commanding it as if it were a mere puppy!” The King spoke in a fatherly tone of pride. “How could I not reward such a brave accomplishment. Rhaegar Targaryen will be a man of legend! I just know it.”

The Queen and her great nemesis the Princess Rhaenyra share a look unease. Both trying to hide their worry behind a cool facade and both failing miserably.

Now Ser Laenor actively attempts to avoid getting stuck between the crossfire of the royal women, but there is one thing that he couldn’t deny. Neither Alicent or Rhaenyra knew how to be happy about things that didn’t involve them or their children.

Alicent, he assumes, is fuming that his grace is boasting his nephew in way that he never does her children, they’re always a second thought to him. It must pain her that in the few weeks that Rhaegar has been here at court; he’s managed to consume the kings attention by simply breathing.

Of course Viserys was quite taken with Rhaegar. The boy is serving to fill a void that Prince Daemon left behind.

Rhaenyra no doubt sees it too. His wife hasn’t said anything negative about the boy, but it doesn’t take a scholar to tell that she’s jealous. All her life Rhaenyra has been second to no one when it comes to the kings affection. The only person in that aspect to be her equal was Daemon. Yet Daemon has been in self imposed exile for seven years now and Rhaenyra remained.

Now all of a sudden a boy of barely ten and four years has swooped in taking her fathers attention from her… it’s hilariously really. Ser Laenor couldn’t help but smile sheepishly at his wife. She returns a look of confusion but it was gone as soon as it came.

Rhaenyra’s eyes land her little cousin “Well congratulations Ser Rhaegar.” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Pray tell, how did you manage to bond with such a wild beast?”

All eyes land on the handsome boy, too young for knighthood. “Well to be honest…” the boy begins to blush.

Causing the Princess Helaena to giggle. The eerie girl was probably the only one in her family to be content with her betrothal. Her lilac eyes somehow coming alive when Rhaegar crosses her line of vision.

“I had tried to use the few valyrian commands my cousins taught me. They didn’t work at all.”

Hums and ohs were sputter among them. Confusion engulfing the air.

“Honestly I got frustrated and began to yell commands in the common tongue but that didn’t work either. It wasn’t until I got truly desperate and yelled in the old tongue that the Cannibal began to obey.”

“By the fourteen flames…” Viserys whispers his amethyst eyes growing wide.

Rhaenyra and Ser Laenor glancing at each other, no words need to be spoken between them. A dragon only obeying commands in the old tongue? That was unheard of. Not to mention dangerous.

“Cousin I don’t want to be the one to ruin the joyous ambiance however this is odd. I mean It’s never happened before.”

The boy nods his head slowly as if he didn’t know how to respond. Ser Laenor sees a look hesitation in the boys face.

“What my wife means to say is that, the bonds created by our ancestors and the dragons originated from Valyrian blood magic. For a dragon to not understand our mother tongue well…” His words left unsaid.

“It doesn’t matter if the dragon understands the old tongue or moraqi, it is now bonded with my nephew for as long as they live.” His grace says as he gives the boy a proud pat on his back. “I know the gods would prove my decision to betroth my little daughter to Prince Rhaegar correctly.”

Ser Laenor couldn’t contain his laugh. The boy had no control over his blushes at all. The Little Knight blushing like a bright cherry.

“Well there is still sometime before they actually get married.” Queen Alicent said snippily. “Still it is quite a feat to be knighted so young my dear. May the Seven light your way.” The kings heir rolls her eyes, inconspicuously of course.

“Thank you your grace.” His tone polite.

Hours later the silver haired couple sat in their private chamber enjoying a bottle of Arbour Gold. Their boys were already put to bed yet the night was still quite young, they sit comfortably in each others presence.

“He’s nothing like his father” Rhaenyra says out of nowhere, “nothing like Daemon at all.”

Laenor takes a quick swig from his goblet before saying “Well that’s to expected, the boy doesn’t even know him.”

The princess sighs deeply as she stares into the auburn flames of the chimney. Her amethyst eyes seem to be longing for someone. No doubt Daemon, the Velaryon man muses. Since entering their marriage both he and wife had grown exceptionally close. While there’s was not a love marriage in the romantic sense for obvious reasons, their relationship had blossomed to that of sibling affection. Thus her feelings for her uncle were no secrect to him. Rhaenyra was no doubt Ser Laenor’s best friend, now that communication between he and his true born sister was scarce. Still Laenor was grateful for his wife who lets him live and indulge in his pleasures.

Rhaenyra still has her eyes on the burning flames. Twirling her ruby ring around her finger.

“My father wants Rhaegar around longer… You know some days ago he and my cousin were in his study…” she begins with an odd tone. “I had let myself in, having something urgent to say to his grace, but since he was speaking with Rhaegar he made me wait outside until they were done.”

Ahh Ser Laenor now understands it’s the freshly planted seed of bitterness. Rhaenyra has never been made to wait to speak to the King. Ever. She must feel pushed to side by his graces newly acquired affection for his nephew.

“You’re jealous” a teasing tone oozing out Ser Laenor’s mouth. The glare it earns him was epic, it makes him smile smugly.

“The Realm’s Delight jealous of a little country mouse” he snickers. Not all afraid of Rhaenyra’s growing annoyance.

“He’s proving to be anything but a little country mouse” Rhaenyra says solemnly. Ignoring her husband who was still giggling like a freshly crowned Queen of Love and Beauty.

“You should have seen him Rhaenyra. Flying atop that obsidian beast, he looked like a valyrian warrior commanding his dragon.”

“As if he needs any more accomplishments for my father to be taken with him.” She grumbles.

“He’s just a boy.” The Knight smiles at his wife. She’s not use to being treated like her siblings and isn’t taking well to being second best. An amusing thought that the little princess isn’t getting her way. This new dynamic was bringing great enjoyment to the sea lord. Though he would never tell his wife that.

“You need to set aside these feelings of jealousy wife.” His voice now serious. He rubs his chins, in a thoughtful manner.

“Rhaegar will one day be lord of Runestone. The Royce’s aren’t a large house but they do have great wealth.” A vast wealth that could help defend Rhaenyra’s cause one day. Having her cousin on her side would benefit her greatly, his wife just needs to sway the boy to her side. He sets his goblet down in the small tea table before them. “We can thank the boy’s mother for that. In her short time as the lady of Runestone, she increased their income tenfold.” And it was true. No house bred finer steeds for combat than House Royce.

The beautiful woman scrunches her nose at the mention of Rhaegar’s mother. Though Ser Laenor had never met the late Lady Royce, he did have to put up with Daemons constant complaining about his ‘Bronze Bitch’. Rhaenyra must only know Lady Royce through the perspective of her uncle. Thus making her opinion biased.

“I suppose.” Was all his wife responds with.

“He’s a great boy Rhaenyra. Also our sons and your brothers enjoy him as well.” He gets up from the cushioned chair and stretches his arms up. “Let these notions of childish jealousy go. Besides the boy is to return back to Runestone soon and your reign as the King’s favorite person will begin anew.”

He walks away leaving his wife deep in thought.

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Thank you, you guys for all the likes and comments! I appreciate them all! ❤️ This chapter is a little short, but I promise that the next chapter will be longer. It’ll be an Alicent pov!

Feel free to comment! ❤️

[wrens-garden]

Outsiders, Krowfangs POV, episode 14

Cannibalism warning. This will be a doozy

It's running out of food. It goes on Guts hunts, pleasant

Cinematic. I hate this song, it puts my hair on edge. It's just hunting Guts. Guts has caught it. End of cinematic

Does this mean Guts was unaware of Krow eating them? Cause that idea is really funny for some reason.

Guts is pointing a gun at it, she called it a twerp, why does she sound like a disappointed older sister? That's so funny.

Guts has asked for an honest answer, and Krow has given one. Krow has fully explained. Guts sounds so disappointed in it, true sibling energy right there.

Guts used to eat flesh too, human food just doesn't tend to satiate them.

Krow has pondered a deal where they swap flesh. Jesus, this is weird to type out. Guts is conflicted, she's agreed.

Krow was starting to feel bad for chasing Guts. Krow and Guts agreed the food in the clearing isn't good. Krow has admitted to what happened in the cave, and Guts doesn't want it to eat itself. Krow is just admitting to stealing from Guts, why is it like this?

Krow is explaining to Guts how it killed Acho. Krow thinks everyone in the clearing is insensitive. Guts is mad at everyone for not telling them about Apo's death. Guts says she technically did the same thing, with accidentally poisoning Magic. Guts and Krow have spotted Magic, so they're now parting ways. Those two are fairly positive acquaintances at worst, friends at best, and that's really good for Krow.

They've made an inside joke of 'catch and eat ya later' I hate that, and I really doubt it'll stick around.

Krow has attempted to get away before Magic spots it. Guts has grassed it up. Krow has tried to get into its old home, but Magic caught it, I think it's trying to pretend that's its house, which is kinda smart.

Magic has taken it to talk in a very open area, literally anyone can watch them, anyone can attack. I worry.

Magic is asking Krow about what happened. Krow seems quite flustered. Magic keeps resorting to calling Krow 'like Bek', Krow keeps resorting to holding its knives. Do I think it'll use a knife as more than just a threat? No. Should it stop because other people won't think that? Yes.

Oh, god, the music is dramatic and it's worrying me. Krow has said Bek is probably the reason it's like this, and I 100% agree. Oh my God. Hold on, did Magic just ask 'why?' to that. I think it's pretty obvious.

Krow is getting flustered and is trying to explain that it died with everyone else in clearing B, and I don't doubt that, grief is crazy and Krow is right it hasn't been back to clearing B yet. It honestly seems like Krow has been running on fight or flight since it entered that cave and just hasn't stopped.

Magic has suggested Krow and Apo are alike. Krow said Magic was friend with Apo, she says she was friends with Krow. There's still half an hour left, what more can go wrong here.

It says it understands that magic as lost those she was closest too. Krow has said it doesn't doubt that Magic wished Mae survived instead of Bek or Krow or someone else. She denies that. Krow yet again doesn't understand why she tries to protect t, she says because they're friends.

She says friends help each other and aren't meant to bring each other down, frame each other or lie to each other (Looks over at Magic and Owen, right).

Krow says it doesn't take back what it did. Krow says it would stop itself from watering down the potion to save itself from all this bullshit. Icon. It says it doesn't care about Acho or Owen or whoever.

Magic has compared it to Bek again, it's lashed out, hit her a couple of times then threw a knife. Not to victim blame, but every time she compared it to Bek it drew a knife, she should've seen that coming.

Krow says it doesn't care about anyone, cause why bother getting close to someone if it's just gonna get stabbed in the back again (Sid eyeing Owen), or everyone is gonna die.

Magic stop comparing them, you know what happens. Jesus.

Krow says Bek is the reason it's like this. Krow thinks Magic is delusional for believing they are all gonna escape. Krow says it doesn't care about anyone, including itself, that everyone was sceptical of it since it arrived, which is true from what I've seen.

Magic just seems to miss everything Krow says then repeatedly walks into its point. Chat is indecisive on whether to kill Magic or not. Magic please stop comparing them, when will you learn that it's not a good idea and won't make Krow believe what she says.

Magic! Krow has said multiple times that it didn't think watering down a potion would kill someone, let alone Acho! Please will someone listen to what it says, Guts done that i'm so thankful for them cause they actually understand.

Krow has said it's everything but logical to defend it, since Magic seems so insistent. Magic! Again! WHY!

I don't understand how Magic can compare Bek, who permanently killed an entire clearing on purpose, with Krow, who accidentally killed someone 'temporarily', and then still says she considers Krow a friend and someone she defends. She's compared Krow to Bek before and saw it react negatively to it. I just don't understand.

Krow is getting hostile. Understandable. Magic has told it to stay away, it didn't seem to get into her head that Krow doesn't like being compared to Bek after the like fifth time it struck her because of the comparison.

Oh, thank god that over.

It went into Magic house and stole a book and quill. Magic has kicked it out, that I understand. It's run off. How did Magic get to her house so quick, sh went in the opposite direction.

Krow has flipped up Apo's lever since he's buried in the clearing. Krow doesn't agree with Magics statement that 'you're only as fast as you're the slowest member'

Krow says it understands what it's like to run with the slowest member, I'm assuming it means Percival. Krow says that a change to this current Krow from the clearing B Krow doesn't just happen. Krow says that if it gets around that Krow killed Acho and what then? Guts has no reason to help it beyond them both being hungry demons, thinks it would be morally fucked if they did help it.

Krow is no upset. Thinks Percival and Tasia would be disappointed and disgusted with Krow. Thinks it needs to be logical or everyone will die, believes they won't all make it out.

The northern lights, blue, white and red. Kind of a nice coincidence. It keeps saying it needs too logical. Has told the lights to let it go, as any Krow they're searching for is gone. Has apologised to Percy for not keeping its promise.

It says it wants to go home to see, but doesn't want to be thrown off track again, so can't.

Someone's following it? It thinks it's Kyle or Magic. No one seems to be there. Want's to forget about them, wants to know how to forget about them. It's going into the maze to burn its memories of them. It's standing at lava in the maze, repeating 'they're dead'. It burns some raw beef and tea near the maze entrance, says 'they're dead, and I can't change that'

It's sleeping in plain sight, it's had enough, if someone wants to stab it they can. It's going to the top of the hotel, people go there to think, probably about a problem it caused.

It's writing a note for anyone who comes across it's sleeping body: Hello, this is Krow writing. Feel free to kill me if i'm sleeping here. Cool. It's labelled the book 'done'

end of stream.

Wow. Angsty shit right there, a lot of fanfic material too. Honestly, as much as I was dreading the argument, and possibly more arguments to come, I'm getting hyped. I think I started losing motivation to finish this, so the small break of watching other fandom vids definitely helped. I look forward to the next one.

[brynn-lear]

Dear Brynryn,

Is it okay if i call you that from now on? Brynlee sounds a bit too formal and Brynn is simply your name, so yea yea? ( ͡º꒳ ͡º) hehe

And no worries about forgetting to tell me, i don't mind it that much! I'm just glad to see that you're still writing stories just as you always like to do. I simply thought you needed more time to calm yourself down before eventually heading back into the world of literature. So, to see you like this, i'm just pleasantly surprised.

Also err... in the last letter i sent, i wasn't that excited because i know your pen name...

...

OKAY, TO BE FAIR? YES. I mean, come on!! The popular "Beloved" author is actually a friend of mine!? How could i not be surprised and be as excited? Choosing to downplay my reaction doesn't allign with how i do my things, so the excited way it is!

By the way... "still"? What do you mean by "still not a cannibal", Brynn? Should i be concerned...???

And to answer that question of yours, I enrolled in Blue Lions. That was the house with many blue colors, right? I have a bad memory, so all i know that it has a lot of blues. Honestly, to even forget what house i enrolled in is such a wild thing haha, but many people did say i have the memory of a goldfish ꃋᴖꃋ

In any case, how are you nowadays? I have been quite busy with lots of stuff, but i'm quite free now. We should meet up at a cafe or maybe have a picnic with everybody else to talk about stuff!

With much love,

Mochi ♡

Dear Mochi,

As your educator, I should trust you recognize the sender of this letter. Especially since it is the very same handwriting that decides the fate of your grades in Reasoning.

However, I have little faith in your memory. It's disconcerting, to say the least, that both yourself and Lear exhibit pitiful lapses in memory. This is Professor Ratio. Do remember to write my name on midterm examination papers. Your answer sheet often gets mixed with other blocks.

But I digress, as an Officer's Academy staff, I implore you to call your professors with the proper honorifics. I can't, however, take away your right to call her whatever you desire outside campus. Although, I believe I reserve the privilege of privately referring to her as an ignoramus.

Best regards,

Professor Ratio

P.S: If Lear could barely tolerate the taste of onions, I highly doubt that would eat a person.

[tears-of-boredom]

okay The Hustle is like actually a pretty cute movie, like it fr left me a smile on my face. I can even endure the annoying pop song of the credits for it. also, that is another white boy. slightly different breed but like, same genus still if you catch my drift. but i think i missed the comedy part? like I was very doubtful of the movie at first because it was a comedy and i don't usually really like them tbh, but I like, did not notice any joke in this?? like I know that there were some, but i guess i just thought myself a bit more perceptive. anne hathaway's accent stuck for me apparently. was the part with penny in jail supposed to be comedy? i guess i just dont know what a normal reaction to comedy is. I also watched the first episode of the first season of doctor who, and this is related because I laughed so hard when it was confirmed that the london eye was the like transmitter. not because of the actual joke they did, but because it was literally the first thing i thought of when the doctor gave the description. it was really funny to me that it was literally like one of the top 5 tourist attractions. and also it was funny that they both needed to see the ferris wheel to realise that it's even a possibility. like, london + big circle? you should think about the eye of london immideatly, and then keep thinking of other answers because why the fuck would it be that simple. and I genuinely laughed at that. but then like, i just kind of,, enjoyed the vibe of The Hustle. like there was no part where i laughed, or thought "thats funny". instead i just really enjoyed how light and silly the vibe of the movie was. though, you know, my eat the rich senses were going off the whole time with anna's character, so I didnt enjoy her that much. like, I know that people will just see a girlboss and like her because she "slays", but honestly i never get those things. rich people should be slayed, regardless of whether they slay or not. especially if theyre not even like nice people.

like, I just...I guess she gets a bit of sway with me because she seems to just rob other rich people, but still. whats it matter when she seemingly just hoards the money anyways.

sorry i am like especially on my communist bullshit rn because i personally dont have much money, and that makes me feel really anxious. i could handle it if it was just my own expenses i needed to consider, because like i can handle starving myself a bit if it comes to that, but i live in a household. and I feel really fucking guilty just living here for free. so i feel the need to cover some expenses of others when I can, although i do not need to. but now i cant do that. also I am trying to wait out the deadline of my birthday, when a medical thing i want(need) will be free.

i just fucking hate rich people ya know. oh look at me i bought this car that uses gas that has methane gas in it aren't i so cool.

why are rich people, of all people, always pushing for poor people to invest for later profits. invest 40 years of your life to 24/7 work and maybe youll be able to buy a house, easy as that! and then the same rich people are literally living every day like its their last. what are they investing in when they support oil companies? they are literally living in the moment so hard that they do not care of the "whole fucking planet actively dying" thing.

i hate hypocrites. and rich people. if I was allowed to kill every billionaire(and millionaire), on the condition that i had to literally eat them, i would leave no fucking crumbs. and I would get on some drugs to deal with whatever the side effects of cannibalism were.

wait wasn't this post about the hustle. well, you know. movies about crime are always bound to unleash my red rage. also I'm joking about me being a communist, kind of at least. because i dont know what the like, official ideals of communism are. but its just like a thing of, if someone doesnt like it when I call myself a commi, i probably wouldnt like them anyway. you have to at least be able to joke about being a communist. and I guess this works for facism too, in the way where if you joke about being a nazi, i will not like you. cus acting like a racist "as a joke" isnt really funny.

anyways I am sorry. im tired. and the whole day ive been thinking about how i want to read fanfics. and also how i want it to rain properly. and I know that I could just read the fanfics, there's nothing really stopping me,, but I guess I just dont want to be dissapointed again. the scenes and athmospheres ive been imagining in my head will always be better than any fanfic writer can create. im sorry, I genuinely am tired. i dont know whats up with me, cuz i literally woke up at noon. like I hope it isnt anything long term thats making me so tired.

[aikoiya]

DP - Realistic Danger Levels & Casualties

I don't like it when people try to portray the ghosts as more harmless than they are or that Amity has never had someone die in a ghost attack or due to the GIW or Fentons.

Have you seen the property damage they cause?! Even if no one has ever been directly & intentionally killed or threatened by a ghost, which I highly doubt; I refuse to believe that people haven't died as a result of, like, debris falling on them or a stray ecto-blast hitting them or GIW/Fenton negligence.

I am also convinced that it's entirely possible for rapists or murderers or cannibals to come back as ghosts & continue their reigns of terror.

For instance, characters like Skulker, Fright Knight, Plasmius, Aragon, Pandora, Frostbite, Pariah Dark, Spectra, Vortex, Undergrowth, & Dan should have less of a problem with killing people due to their natures.

Skulker is a poacher. The kind that seems to have no problem with the idea of skinning a teen & mounting his head on his wall. He also appears to have a tendency to do the same with other sentient or at least humanoid ghosts. Why would he care if a human were to die if it allowed him to get his quarry?

Fright Knight is a knight & the freaking spirit of Halloween & fear! How is he not all over the horror genre?!

Plasmius is a corrupt businessman that didn't mind the clones he created destabilizing so long as he got his perfect son & is commonly hc'd to have used his overshadowing ability to coerce his business rivals into signing their companies over to him. I wouldn't put it past him to also overshadow people to have them put him in their wills & then kill them. I mean, it'd honestly be pretty pathetically easy for him to just phase someone into the concrete or a wall, then leave as they suffocate.

Aragon is an arrogant, misogynistic bastard that kept his kingdom in the dark ages for centuries. Considering how less than benevolent he is & the time period he's from, I imagine he'd had several people executed when he was alive just for displeasing him.

Pandora & Frostbite, while not evil, are both warriors & leaders of their respective societies. Sometimes, leaders have to make difficult decisions. Pandora should especially be prepared to kill even if she'd prefer not to considering the prevalence of death in Grecian literature.

Pariah Dark is a tyrannical dictator. 'Nuff said.

I wouldn't put it past Spectra to push people until they commit suicide. The idea that she wouldn't only so she could continue feeding off of people may have a certain point, but isn't fool-proof. Like in her premier episode when she was going to use Jazz's death to bring down Casper's spirits, if someone dies, she can just feed off the misery of others mourning for that person. This goes double for any other ghosts that feed off negativity.

Dan literally kills everyone in his own timeline, then comes to Danny's to kill his loved ones like the asshole sex god he is! Sorry, not sorry! His body & voice are magic.

Vortex enjoys causing natural disasters as part of his 'art' & we all should know how many lives are taken as a result of things like hurricanes, tornadoes, blizzards, & other storms.

Undergrowth is very anti-humanity as a result of deforestation & whatnot. I think the only reason he didn't kill anyone last time was to use them as minions, manual labor, & whatnot until they outlived their usefulness. I would be in no way surprised to learn that he was a faithful follower of Gaia.

As for the excuse that ghosts 'don't kill as a rule because they know that their victim could come back & get revenge,' while I can see that as being a rule among certain societies within the Infinite Realms, I still call bullshit. The ghosts we see terrorizing Amity spend their afterlives fighting anyway so why would they care if some rando they offed comes back to bring more aggression into their already aggression-filled afterlives?

As for humans, we’ve all seen how negligent the GiW & the Fentons can be with their weapons. While the Fentons weapons might not, supposedly, work on humans, they do cause damage to buildings & objects, meaning that damage can possibly end up hurting people anyway.

Then, there’s Freakshow, who used his staff to make ghosts steal & nearly managed to force Danny into killing someone. Twice, I think! Not to mention that Thanos bullshit he pulled with the Reality Gauntlet. He had no problems revealing Danny’s identity to the world, specifically, the GiW who have made it clear what they do to ghosts via “very painful experiments.”

Also, I don't like it when people insist that there is either no or very little crime in Amity due to the ghosts. People are stupid & they can get desperate. Murderers, rapists, drug dealers, thieves, muggers, & all that exists in every city. Every city.

There might be fewer in Amity Park, but there's no way you can convince me that it's all gone.

I mean, people IRL go out into blizzards to steal TVs instead of food & blankets. Why wouldn't cartoon criminals be even more inclined to do the same?

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Wounded Love Pt. 2 (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T? Maybe? Almost the exact opposite of the first one. Language, minor violence Genre: Fluff, mainly, with admittedly a little bit of humor? I blame my lack of sleep. And my adhd. Warnings: Implied cannibalism adjacent activities because guess what honey, this is a fucked up family, what do you expect of me??? Sure, they have breakfast in this, there's cute stuff, but c'mon, they don't eat flowers and oatmeal! Notes: Doubt it needs to be said, but this is a sequel to the good ending of part one. Also Cass has one line in this that might be OOC, or seem oddly placed, but admittedly this chapter is also loosely based on a dream I had, and I couldn't not include the few direct quotations I remembered, and she seemed the most likely to say the line. And yes, there will be a part 3, because I am weak and also kind of maybe made this one less plot-moving than intended.

{Wounded Love: The re-woundening}

Every step ached more than the last, even with Alcina supporting you. She had wanted to carry you down the stairs, of course, but you had insisted that you would be fine. Now you were just determined not to complain out loud. One yelp or cry and you’d be scooped up in her arms, surely to be carried for the rest of the day. As much as you appreciated your girlfriend’s assistance, you hated feeling useless, and hated putting a burden on others. So here you were, one arm wrapped around Alcina’s waist, limping ever-so-slowly towards the dining room.

Further ahead (unburdened by your injury) the three Dimitrescu daughters talk among themselves, voices hushed as they too headed for breakfast. It was odd to see them all awake, and socializing, as there was usually at least one who came to meals late. You couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with your condition… or the circumstances that had caused it.

Less than eighteen hours had passed since your fight with a stray lycan, and tension had been high since. While you hadn’t yet spoken to the sisters, you had spoken to Alcina, who had briefly mentioned their concern for you. Whether they actually cared about you as a person or just cared because you are dating their mother is unclear. Based on how they had acted while treating your wounds, though, you were inclined to think that they were fond of you. And seeing as Alcina had already vowed to get revenge on your behalf… well, you wouldn’t be surprised to learn that her daughters intended to assist.

“Careful on the last step, dear,” Alcina says, positioned as to catch you if you fell. It takes a little willpower to resist the urge to hop down the rest of the way. As long as you landed on your uninjured leg, it wouldn’t even be that bad. Still, irritating your girlfriend first thing in the morning felt like a pretty stupid thing to do. Instead you just nodded, slowing down even more, and took visible care not to trip. “Good girl.”

Well, you certainly couldn’t say that being careful didn’t have its rewards.

“I have my moments,” you replied, blush rising to your cheeks. Suddenly your pain didn’t feel so bad (at least until you took another step and winced). “Damn, who woulda thought that cutting a chunk out of my leg would make it hurt more?” The leg in question throbbed in pain, as if to prove your point, protesting the weight you put on it. Changing the angle at which you stood helped some, allowing the lower half of the limb to bear more of the burden.

“Dearest…” Alcina starts to say, looking like she was going to readdress her desire to carry you. For a moment you try to avoid her gaze, but she moves in front of you, making sure that you could still hold onto her for support. “I know how you feel, how you want, desperately, to be independent. When I was first… granted this gift, it took a long time to adjust. There was so much I had to relearn how to do, so much that I suddenly needed done for me.” A pause, a deep breath. At last you look up at your girlfriend, warmth in your heart, reaching out to hold her hand. “You have time, my dear, and plenty of it. More than that… this will not last forever. The more you push yourself, the longer your recovery will take. Now, please, allow me to assist. You have already proven how strong you are.”

“Oh, you drive a hard bargain… but if you insist, who am I to decline? Or, well, who am I to decline twice in a row?” You answer, somewhat begrudgingly. It wasn’t much farther to the dining room, you figured, so it wouldn’t be much of a loss to accept help. Or at least that was what you told yourself. Even with Alcina’s encouragement it was so hard for you to accept her help. After all, you were the one that worked for her. Never mind the fact that she was somewhat responsible for your injury- really, you were actively avoiding thinking about that.

It’s much easier to forget once Alcina carefully picks you up. One arm goes under your legs, the other under your chest, lifting you without any effort. You might as well have been a kitten or a child’s toy. The movement does, however, shift your injured leg in such a way that it aches. At this point you can hardly move the limb at all without it hurting, and even the slightest friction against the bandage makes your eyes water.

Apparently someone would be delivering some painkillers later in the day. You assumed it would be The Duke (whose name is apparently not Doug, as you had thought), seeing as he knew some special way to get to and fro without risking the same fate that had befallen you. Which, of course, made you feel a lot better. Getting someone else hurt would weigh on your mind forever.

Regardless, you were safe now, as was your strange, bloody little family. Before long you would even be enjoying a pleasant meal together. Certainly that would help get your mind off of your wound? For now, though, you were met with an unexpected impasse. The sort of impasse that really, really should have been expected.

“Why… is the doorway… so small?” You asked, jokingly, as you stare into the mildly embarrassed face of your girlfriend. It’s already hard enough for her to crouch through the gap normally. When she’s carrying you? Impossible. “Can we ask Mother Miranda for bigger doors? She gave you eternal life and also three kids, she’s gotta be capable of making bigger doors. Put me down, I’ll go call her and-”

“That won’t be necessary, dear,” Alcina cuts you off, not fully appreciating this part of your humor. Or maybe she had already asked for bigger doors, only to be told no?... Okay, yeah, it was probably the first option. With a sigh she sets you down, as gently as she can manage. Ready and raring to go, you start to hobble forward, only to find all three of the daughters waiting for you, just beyond the door. They’re grinning as they watch you, and Bela extended her arm to offer her help. “What appears to be the matter?” Alcina asks from behind you. Accepting your fate and Bela’s arm, you let the sisters guide you to the table, Cassandra holding your other side, and Daniela pulls your chair out for you. Honestly it’s pretty adorable. Evidently your girlfriend agrees, from the way she smiles as she follows.

“Thank you,” you say, more out of reflex than genuine gratitude. Again, you weren’t thrilled about needing this assistance. If the girls notice they’re at least polite enough not to mention it. They simply move to their own seats at the large table, eager to dig in. It feels… strange, to be here, on this side of things. Stranger still to realize you’re the only one intending to eat actual food. There’s wine in your glass, but it’s a much fainter red than those you’ve previously served to your girlfriend. Thank goodness, you think, after how raw my throat was yesterday, I really don’t need to taste any more blood.

Once Lady Dimitrescu sits down, the meal formally begins, with several maidens appearing from the kitchen. Several seem relieved to see you, although surprised, and one even gave you a brief smile. The smile did not last, however. It wasn’t unexpected, considering the nature of her job, the pressures that it put upon her. No one smiled at mealtimes. Well, no maidens, that is. They simply moved around, wordlessly, faces blank, doing exactly as instructed. Only a few days ago you had been among them, fear keeping you in line. Was it wrong of you to care for Alcina, knowing what she was capable of doing to others? Knowing what she might have, in another life, done to you?

A maiden places a plate of warm food, as well as a bowl of fresh fruit, in front of you. For a moment your eyes meet, but she looks away instinctively. Your heart threatens to break.

“This looks wonderful, thank you for your hard work, all of you,” you speak up, glancing at each of the women working so hard. There’s more you want to say that dries in your throat; you are valued, you are deserving, someday I will join your ranks again.

“You don’t need to thank them, they’re just doing their jobs,” Cassandra chimes from the other side of the table. Hearing her say that damn near makes you drop your fork. It’s not an uncommon settlement, particularly among older generations and the rich, but one that irks you nonetheless.

“They’re doing my job. They are taking on extra work, for no pay, because I am injured. Why would I be so cruel as to ignore them? Have I not toiled alongside them enough to call them my kin?” You ask, struggling to keep your voice even. Next to you Alcina is slowly cutting into her meat, watching the scene unfold out of the corner of her eyes, perhaps considering when to step in. On the other end of the table, Bela looks increasingly uncomfortable, as if silently willing her sister into silence. None of the maidens have reacted to what you said, likely too afraid of Cassandra to even consider speaking.

“Ooooh, this is much more fun than our usual breakfasts,” Daniela says, stifling a giggle. “Do you have any other thoughts you’d like to share? Preferably ones that aren’t about me.” At this, Alcina sets her utensils down, clearly intending to put an end to the discussion. Unfortunately for her, you were a bit… impulsive, especially considering the previous night’s activities had left your mind struggling to cope.

“Dead lycans smell terrible. Literally the worst thing I’ve ever smelled, easily, no question about it,” you answer, shrugging a little as you do. It’s such a simple thought that you almost don’t realize how the others at the table react. Until the clatter of silverware on the table catches your attention, that is. All three sisters are eying you with different expressions (Bela is confused, Cass is impressed, and Daniela looks shocked). But it’s Alcina’s wide-eyed stare that gets you to elaborate. “Should I have said ‘a dead lycan’? I only got one, so I guess I shouldn’t say they all smell bad. C’mon, though, they have to all smell bad, right?”

Suddenly Daniela shifts from shock to pure amusement, a fit of giggles overtaking her. You’re still confused, not sure what the matter was, so you just sip your wine and hope someone asks the right questions.

“You… killed the lycan that attacked you?” Bela finally says, after a few moments of her sister laughing, expression still incredulous. When you nod she sort of shakes her head, trying to clear her thoughts. “May I ask how you managed that?”

“Oh, you know, I just meh meh-” you mime a stabbing motion with your fork- “until the stupid thing stopped moving. I had to use a tree branch as a weapon, but then it broke after a few whacks, which actually helped because then I had two stabbing implements to, you know, stab with. That’s right around when it got my leg, and it tried to bite me. Thankfully it wasn’t very smart, so when it leapt at me I just hyah-” this time an upwards strike- “right into its neck. That didn’t kill it, but it was enough to slow it down, which allowed me to stab the other half of the branch into its skull. Made this horrible, horrible sound as it died. Seeing as we are eating, I will not imitate the sound. Not that I could, now that I think about it…”

Once again there’s silence. Even Daniela has quieted now, and is watching you with rapt interest, likely hoping that you’re hiding another story up your sleeves.

“So… did you guys actually think that I managed to run away from the lycan? Or were you under the impression that it simply got bored of me and left?” You ask, casually returning to your breakfast afterwards. No one says anything, at first, taking in your words as best as they can. A few moments later both Daniela and Bela resume their meal, as nonchalant as one could be in the current situation. Alcina, however, rests a gentle hand on your shoulder, meeting your gaze with a loving look.

“You will never cease to amaze me, my dear. But let us ensure you never have to… smell, or see, one of those wretched things again, yes?” She says, softly squeezing you as she does. You can’t help but agree, and nod eagerly, mouth too full of hashbrowns to speak. Still, there’s been a shift in the atmosphere of the room. It’s not that the family didn’t respect you before, as far as you can tell, but they evidently hadn’t expected you to prove as capable as you had. It brings a sense of pride to the forefront of your mind, making you completely forget about your injury for the remainder of the meal.

Unable to stop yourself, you insist on helping the other maidens clean up, and Alcina eventually agrees to let you wash a few dishes- as long as you stay sitting the entire time. The last thing you hear before you shuffle off to the kitchen is the start of a conversation between Cassandra and her mother.

“You picked quite a feisty one, didn’t you?”

“That I did, that I did…”

[allthingsarmin]

Hello there, so I haven't seen a lot of your works but for what I've seen I really like it! I was wondering how would be Armin's reaction to an s/o who's even more skilled at manipulating people than he is?

Thanks and have a lovely day!

Thank you for the request! I’m sorry this took me a while to write (I came down with a horrible cold), but I hope you’re having a lovely day as well!

GN!Reader

_____________________________________________________

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin values your intelligence. Whether or not you believe you’re smart, he appreciates your insight, open-mindedness, awareness, understanding, and things alike, so he is obviously very impressed that you’re able to read people well and have them right where you want them, listening to the controlling words that smoothly roll off of your tongue and manipulating them with that seemingly innocent glimmer in your eye.

ᵔᴥᵔ Though Armin knows you’re intelligent, he thinks your manipulation works well only because you’re so cute.

ᵔᴥᵔ Look at you, so cute, right? Your mature stature, seemingly friendly nature, wide smile, kind eyes, and a soft voice you only use on others you’re manipulating. It’s enough to fool anyone as it hides your sly nature.

ᵔᴥᵔ And he’s honestly fine with you manipulating playing little jokes on your friends… like when you convinced Mikasa to give you her last piece of bread because you were just feeling so faint, your bones so feeble after you fell off and got trampled by your horse on the last mission. Of course, Mikasa can’t ignore the sadness in your eyes, the way you grab your head and say that you feel so lightheaded, the way you limp up to her to start a conversation, so obviously, she can’t deny you her last piece.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin watches the whole situation take place and is just bewildered because how did you get someone as quiet and rigid as Mikasa to give you her last piece of food? It never worked when he did it, and he is demanding that you give him some tips.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also likes to have a little fun with your skills, and occasionally, you guys will tag-team a manipulation situation to have some laughs.

ᵔᴥᵔ Prepare for trouble and make it double:

ᵔᴥᵔ One time, you tried to convince Sasha that she was technically a cannibal because potatoes alarmingly share so much DNA with humans.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Sasha, look, I didn’t really want to have to tell you this, but you’re behavior is really concerning me,” you said with raised brows and a hushed tone. “The way you’re obsessed with potatoes… don’t you know that potatoes and humans share similar DNA? You’re like a cannibal. It’s frightening!” you exclaimed, shuddering and shaking your head.

ᵔᴥᵔ Sasha erupts with laughter, her mouth full of food. “Yeah right,” she snickers.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin chimes in. “Y/n is serious, Sasha. That’s why we don’t talk with you as much anymore… I mean, we even call you the potato titan…” he trails off. And there it is. The final button has been pushed as you both walk away, giving disturbed looks to Sasha and exchanging wide grins with one another in secret, interlocking hands. For a while, neither of you saw Sasha eat a potato.

ᵔᴥᵔ Everyone views you two as a power couple. Unbelievably compelling, heroes of humanity, a force to be reckoned with, people who do what they need to and always succeed with the best possible outcome. No one doubts you two, and threats should fear you. You each can’t deny what an honor it is being with one another and working together, especially Armin who is in awe of your fervor and strength, who blushes at your beauty, and whose heart still skips a beat when you grab his hand - (but you do this because you know it makes him feel mushy on the inside). It’s funny, really, the intense atmosphere you bring to the branch, but on the inside, you two are softies who are taking up responsibilities and doing what you are lethally and dangerously good at.

ᵔᴥᵔ You wouldn’t consider yourself to be a “bad person,” but you can’t deny the fact that you love being a little smarter and more manipulative than Armin Arlert because that means you always have him under you - under your control right at the tips of your fingers. Not in a bad way of course… you just love the way that he would do anything for you, that he does whatever you ask, and makes time for you always. And of course you would do anything for him, but can’t you imagine all the things you could make him do for you or to you? Making him only want you and need you? Making him suffocate himself inside your warmth, him being so strong yet so dependent on you?

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is maybe a tad bit jealous that you can manipulate quicker, easier, and better, but he knows he is better at strategy than you, and he is just lucky that 1. someone can take some pressure off of him. 2. is in the presence of someone so smart, witty… someone that he can learn from, gain knowledge and experience from, and someone that he can have intelligent conversations with, exchange clever jokes with, etc.

ᵔᴥᵔ However, he is a little concerned:

ᵔᴥᵔ Though Armin is strategic, powerful, and extremely useful, he is a gentleman who just happened to get caught up in a terribly hard situation. He had to put his values, dreams, and humanity aside in order to protect others, in order to manipulate enemies… This was very hard for him to do, so he is a bit concerned how you find it so easy to just ‘turn on’ your manipulation mode and are able to control people’s actions so easily and without guilt. Of course he knows you wouldn’t do anything bad, but it frightens him a little that you're this good.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also deals with a lot of self-doubt after being bullied and being viewed as weak and useless amongst other things, continuously having to prove himself to others who constantly overlooked his worth. He knows his worth now; he knows he is smart and cunning… but with you being so dangerously clever - a whole other level above him - he can’t deny that he is self-conscious, that he sometimes quivers out of fear and anxiety when he is in your presence. You are so good at what you do - a natural. It’s so easy for you, and he worries that he will have to yet again prove himself to others since you're the "person to go to" now.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin trusts you - of course he does - but with feeling so weak in your presence, he can’t deny he is a little scared of you using your power over him. What if you’re just using him? As a joke? For personal gain? To get information? These thoughts run through his mind as his heart fills with insecurity.

ᵔᴥᵔ However, Armin is smart too, and he knows that someone who is a better manipulator than he is wouldn’t share their weaknesses with him, wouldn’t share their hilariously embarrassing stories with him, or their fears, dreams, doubts. He trusts your reassurances because even though you’re a master manipulator, he knows who you really are. He knows that when you’re hungry, you become agitated by the slightest sounds because your head hurts so badly, or when you’re anxious, you tend to bite the skin on your lips. He knows that your legs get shaky when you have to tend to the horses at night because you’re secretly afraid of the dark, and he knows how hard it is for you to suppress your laughter when talking to Captain Levi because he is just a little shorter than you. Armin knows you’re a badass - a devious and scheming one at that - and yeah, he can’t deny that you’re the most powerful person he’s met - but when you two are cuddling together in his small bed at night, candles lit, breathing softly, he knows it’s the real you because you’re the one who goes to him for reassurance.

ᵔᴥᵔ You’re both clinging softly to one another, Armin resting his chin on top of your head and giving you forehead kisses while you’re buried into his warm, muscular chest, taking in the distant noises of his heart beats.

“Do you think I convinced him to kill the rest of his team?” you asked, concerned.

“Of course you did, baby, didn’t you see the look on his face?” He reassures you, blue eyes lighting up, and laughing that you’d even ask a stupid question like that. Of course you convinced him… because that’s what you always do.

“Haha, yeah you’re right. He did look pretty pathetic,” you both erupt into hearty laughter. You rest easy, feeling accomplished knowing that you held back a dangerous threat yet again… and Armin takes a deep breath, feeling proud of his robust, intelligent, and manipulative partner, feeling lucky as he gets to sleep beside one of the most powerful minds in the world.