#hope I did a decent job

[ongoingexperiment]

A dreadful night

[crystalflygeo]

Last of her kind Emperor!Alpha!Zhongli + Omega!Dragoness!Reader

cw/tags: Your usual mentions of slavery and sexual themes, A/B/O dynamics and heat mentions. Also allusions to depression and mentions of death.

notes: Aahahaha this took forever..... allow me top explain: first of all my new job is killing me and second of all I'm going through a hard period where I don't really like anything I write anymore. This work in particularly I kept struggling with the pacing, the dialogues, the way I wanted feelings to come across or scenes to flow it's just hhhnnnggg. I told a couple of friends that I set the bar so high with the first part I feel like nothing else I write will be that good. Then the second part was "ok" but cut off in a cliffhanger and has been there for SO LONG that now I feel this will be underwhelming after all the buildup//hit

I hope it's not. I hope it's good.

Anyway this part is in Zhongli's pov and contains flashbacks which will be fully in italics! Enjoy! and thanks for caring so much about this story ;w; ILU all <3

<- Part 2.

Your instincts mess up with your head.

Your crying and anxiety have simmered to a cold numbness.

Hours blur together, time loses meaning.

The doctor comes by sometimes. The maids bring you food. But everything feels… off, distant.

This doesn’t feel… like your usual heats.

You curl up and sob, a choked soft noise.

You don’t feel hot, but rather cold. Limbs weak. Dizzy.

Your heart aches.

You’re so tired.

And so sleepy…

Zhongli puts down the seal stamp and deflates back into his chair with a sigh, he must have read the same line at least five times already. He cannot concentrate at all. It’s not even been three days and each hour, each minute, feels eternal.

He’s already gotten so used to your presence, so smitten with you and your little quirks, your rare smiles, the way your ears and tail flicker, your pretty eyes…

And he remembers those same eyes begging for him, teary. Your pitiful cry. Your distressed scent.

Guilt eats at him. As well as something else…

He’s been restless, barely slept. Your scent is a siren’s song on the blankets, tart and fresh and tantalizing, but you are not with him. Anxious energy flows in his veins. This emotion, this thing that is like regret and sorrow and fear all tangled together, cleaves him through. His instincts are screaming at him, rattling inside a cage of his own making. His mate, his precious Omega is in heat, you’re scared and lonely and need him. Zhongli has to suppress a growl and feel the shudder of his scales at the fact that he’s not with you. In your nest. Taking care of you.

It’s agonizing.

"How is she?"

The same question, over and over, at any chance he gets.

"She refuses to eat, your majesty." Xiao tells him, and he can feel the concern in the younger Alpha’s voice. “According to the maids she only took a few bites of the ajilenak nuts, the rest of the food was left untouched.”

…

"She's um... she's always sleeping when I go check up on her." Ganyu explains a little crestfallen. She too is worried. “A-at least I think she’s in no pain… she was clinging to one of your hanfus.”

…

"You should go see her, Zhongli." Ping states, a rare serious expression on her usual gentle factions. “Baizhu says she’s going through the worst case of separation sickness he’s ever seen. Is that really what you want your poor Yin to go through?”

He lets out a frustrated rumble.

“Of course not. But it’s for the best, I don’t want to… take advantage of her, or force her to anything.” Zhongli frowns, trying to focus on the papers in front of him again, in an attempt to ignore her piercing gaze.

“Is it really any of that if she wants her mate?” Ping retorts. “She was begging you.”

I know.

He growls this time, and shakes his head at his memory of you. It haunts him.

“She doesn’t know what she wants.”

“So, you’re deciding for her then? Is that it? Honestly, are you listening to yourse-”

“She’s been conditioned to serve.” He cuts her off, voice grave and somber. “Trained to be submissive and please. She likes me simply because I’m kind to her, she wants me because she thinks it’s her obligation as my mate. I feel the pull of the bond too, the need, the yearning. But I also know she is afraid of Alphas and she thinks… she thinks she has to obey me. That she owes me something or that own her.” His eyes narrow. “I didn’t need to bond her. I shouldn’t have bonded her. I just… wanted her to be free and instead I chained her to me. And now she’s in heat…”

And it drives him insane.

“Listen to me, we’ve both spent time with her, enough to know she’s opening up and learning to voice her feelings…” Ping reasons gently. “It’s a slow process, don’t hurt her this way. At the very least… go see her.”

“I lost control once with just one kiss from her. I will not do it again. I will not harm her any further.”

The elderly woman keeps silent for a few moments. Zhongli sighs and rests his forehead in his palm in defeat.

And then Ganyu approaches, a little tense, a stack of papers in her hands.

“Your majesty, the Qixing are starting to arrive, council meeting will begin soon.”

“Very well. Thank you Ganyu.” He stands up and nods at her, then turns to Ping and his demeanor softens a little. “You know I just want to correct my mistakes, and give her the life she deserves. At least a fraction of it, of happiness.”

It wasn’t supposed to go this way… Zhongli sighed as he walked up to the room where the “reunion” with the sumerian would take place. It was long overdue seeing as he had spent the night by your side, refusing to leave after you had cried and begged so desperately…

After he had bonded you.

He had initially taken the eremite’s claims with a grain of salt, but naturally he had to make sure. The last dragonblood had supposedly died decades ago, so how…?

And yet when he saw you for the first time in that room, he knew.

You were real, you were beautiful. Suddenly he felt a million things at once: He wanted to get to know you, stay close to you, protect you. Old draconic instinct vibrating excitedly on his soul. You smelled vaguely familiar, your tail was gorgeous, your ears adorable. What if you didn’t like him though? What if he harmed you? Scared you? Suddenly he was nervous, nervous of ruining this, nervous in a way he hadn’t been in so long, like when he’d been young and Liyue had been at war and he had lost everything to fire and smoke and dust and he had to make difficult decisions and-

He had always calculated his moves. No room for risks. Too much at stake.

But you, you disarmed him. Completely.

You, with your polite gentleness despite the obvious cracks beneath the surface.

You, with your beautiful looks and enormous potential, even if you didn’t see it yourself.

You, with that look of yearning and hope, with your soft lips and sweet moans, with your warm body fitting perfectly against his.

For once, he allowed himself to make a decision with his heart, not logic, not politics. Just instincts.

And he claimed you…

…

He enters the room. A couple Millelith soldiers stationed by the door, Xiao standing by his side loyally as he sits at his place of honor as the emperor. Your ‘master’, an Alpha eremite named Zaheer, kneels respectfully a little below.

“I see you liked her, your majesty” He offers a sly smirk. “Did she satisfy you properly? She’s been trained on her gag reflexes to-”

Zhongli -Morax- resists the urge to growl. “We are not here to discuss that.”

“Ah, of course, business!”

Business.

“Since she’s such an exotic and well-trained slave I suppose we could agree on…”

“Do you think of me an idiot, Zaheer?” Morax’s eyes narrow.

“P-Pardon me?”

“She is a pureblood xiānshòu. I want to know exactly how she ended up being enslaved by you and your people.”

Cold and calculating golden eyes stare down at the eremite.

“W-What… she’s desert-born!” Zaheer retorts back angrily “She was born at a heat house. Maybe she has traits from your people because one of them decided to get a cheap fuck while traveling.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Morax asks unfazed “Liyue has records of the last of her kind disappearing and presumably being murdered when a village near Sumeru borders was razed to the ground. Do you have a disclosure?”

Zaheer stands up and growls, clearly an Alpha not used to having to bow his head and accept things not going his way.

Clearly an Alpha used to intimidating and attacking others.

Xiao wields his spear and changes his stance to an offensive one. The Millelith guards also tense.

Zaheer gets even more irritated, feeling like a caged animal. Backed into a corner. “Emperor or not” He starts through gritted teeth. “If you’re not going to pay me then I’ll take my merchandise back and do business elsewhere where I’m not being accused of ridiculous claims.”

“You’re right that I won’t be doing any business with you, but we’ll see how ridiculous those claims truly are. Zaheer, by my word as the emperor you will now remain detained in Liyue.” Morax sentences.

The eremite’s red eyes widen in shock and rage and the desert-dweller shoots up to attack Morax, getting easily overpowered and neutralized by Xiao’s quick moves. In seconds his weapon drops to the floor as the Yaksha general points his spear at the unconscious man. The Millelith quickly retrieve him and the blade before Morax simply nods at them.

Months. It had been months since then and he had to begrudgingly release the man as no accusation connected him to anything. They were essentially out of leads. There did appear to be documentation of your birth at a desert village but Zhongli would be hard pressed to believe the half-assed story you’ve been told…

And since you are pureblood, then both of your parents, and most importantly your dam, was also a dragonblood. That’s at the very least one Liyue citizen enslaved in a foreign nation.

He would get to the bottom of this.

For now, however, he had to cast those worries aside.

The Seven members of the council sit around the large table, the Liyue Qixing, leaders of all the commerce and trade sectors of the nation.

Zhongli takes his place at the head of the table. Ganyu does so as well by the sideline.

“Very well, what’s our first topic today?”

“Did Master just… leave?”

There was silence at the table, Zhongli and Ping sit frozen and you get just a bit nervous.

It’d been a few days since you started your new life, and though Zhongli was sure you were warming up to it he knew you still had a long way to go. It was probably still a little surreal for you… such a big change from everything you knew.

The tension on his shoulders quickly drops again. He continues eating. “Yes.” He says simply. Ping follows his lead, saying nothing.

The faster you forget about that eremite, the better.

“Hm…” You continue eating as well. Your expression is a little conflicted…

You inhale.

“Was he… happy… that I finally found a mate?”

Zhongli turns to you sharply and tenses again like a cat bristling. He holds back his tongue so as to not say something he’d regret. Why do you still care about that despicable man’s opinion? Why do you still seek his approval? Did you really think he cared about you? Zhongli desperately wants to make you understand how that slave-owner only saw you as an object, how he fed you lies, how his mistreatment is inexcusable…

But he can only imagine how deep your scars run, and how that toxic mindset has settled and accompanied you for years. He cannot judge you for caring about someone who doesn’t deserve it.

“Why do you ask, dear?” Ping asks instead.

“I don’t know…” You mumble, poking at the congee with your spoon. “I always wanted to make him proud.”

Proud.

Him?

“I think what matters most is how you feel.” Zhongli says, his hand reaching out for yours invitingly and you place your fingers on his palm, getting a soft reassuring squeeze. “You don’t need to rely on how others view you or think about you.”

You seem thoughtful for a second, your ears flickering back insecure but then standing up alert again. “I am happy” You admit. “Very happy. I have the best mate in the world.” You smile brightly.

Zhongli’s heart does a flip.

“With the excessive rains in the northern villages, there have been many floods and a lot of crops have been severely damaged or lost. Our previous contingency plan is in action already and donations are being sent to help the affected families. However, we must prepare for a decline in the harvest of certain grains and vegetables this season, as well as an increase in prices for a few months due to the shift in demand and supply.” Keqing explains expertly, the young alpha’s expression is serious and solemn.

“It’s an opportunity to strengthen commerce with Mondstadt and Sumeru.” Ningguang chimes in, leaning back on her chair, arms crossed. “The value of jade and other crystals is on the rise as well.”

“Not to mention, we’ll be employing several architects from the Akademiya to help with the rebuilding.” Keqing adds, turning to Ganyu, who nods.

“Greater lord Rukkhadevata and lesser Lord Kusanali have agreed on a certain exchange program with Liyue. I started drafting up some proposals already if you’d like to see.” The blue-haired secretary passes along some documents.

Ningguang’s eyes skim along the page. “It’s almost like our new Sumeru-born empress was a sign.” She smirks. “By the way, where is she?” She turns to Zhongli, curious about her fellow Omega.

“She’s rather indisposed at the moment.” The emperor replies dryly, not wanting to delve much onto the touchy subject. “Ganyu this looks good, however we need to think about-”

There is a knock that quickly surprises everyone. Who could interrupt a council meeting and why?

Baizhu peeks in with Changsheng curled around his neck, a frown on his usually gentle features. “Your majesty, a word. It’s an emergency.”

All the members at the table stare silently as Zhongli stands and follows the doctor.

Ganyu has a bad feeling…

“We have no time, follow me.” The green-haired doctor walks briskly along the wooden corridors, he looks… frustrated, dejected.

“What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t want to panic. He never panics. But something inside him does. It’s obvious that this has to do with you. 

“I apologize, your majesty. I thought it was just a case of separation sickness but�� the empress is showing signs of widow’s wasting.”

Zhongli stops.

His heart skips a beat. His skin prickles with dread.

“She’s… dying?”

Baizhu shakes his head. “It hasn’t reached that point yet, but… she’s deteriorating.”

The guilt is back. The fear.

“Given what happened, I’m pretty certain the shock of your rejection was the trigger. Still, it is highly unusual for a Yin to suffer from widow’s wasting without their partner actually dying, even more so for it to settle so quickly. Her reaction is akin to someone who had never left their mate’s side for years.” Baizhu explains.

You trusted him.

And he turned his back on you.

What have I done?

“In any casssse, it’ssss not too late.” Changsheng’s little voice pipes in. Baizhu keeps leading the way and Zhongli follows, though he obviously knows the entire palace like the palm of his hand, at the moment his thoughts are scattered and far far away.

“She needs her mate’s reassurance. I have done what I can with medicine but this is a bonded pair matter.” Finally, he stops at a juncture and turns to Zhongli. “Please, your majesty, only you can save her. I will tell Ganyu, Xiao and Ping of the situation, and if you need anything, just ask.”

Zhongli nods, mute.

The snake narrows her eyes. “Don’t leave her sssside.”

“Changsheng.” Baizhu shushes.

She is right to chastise him. He deserves that and more.

“I won’t.” Zhongli nods and heads down the hall.

Widow’s wasting.

The words echo in his head. He’s seen the damage it can do. How a broken bond, the loss of the most important person, can destroy someone inside. Did you really care that much about him? Did he really hurt you that badly?

“Please…”

He didn’t mean to.

“I have the best mate in the world.”

He feels like a monster.

“I want to stay with you. Sleep together. Like mates.”

He needs to see you. He needs to make sure you’re ok…

He stands in front of the nest room. The same one where he first met you.

Opening the doors only slightly to slip inside, Zhongli's eyes widen and a hand flies to cover his nose and mouth when a strong smell shakes him to his very core.

The room he expected to be completely saturated with intense heat pheromones… instead bears the acrid scent of despair.

This isn’t the lustful call to breed and have children that made an omega vulnerable and pliant. No. It is a desperate cry from a heartbroken omega for their mate to come back, to stay with them, to love and protect them. It is grief.

You are suffering because of him.

To think all this time… he was afraid he'd make you uncomfortable. That he’d scare you, hurt you, ruin the bond you’ve carefully built. Instead, he is overcome by an all-consuming terror. Every part of him screaming at his mate's weak essence.

And there you are, his precious treasure, his sweet dragoness.

You lay curling in on yourself letting out small muffled sobs.

“Y/n…” 

No reaction.

“Darling, my dear dragoness…” He rushes up to you immediately, grabs your hand and pets your hair. You look so weak, your skin is feverish, how has it only been three days? It feels like a lifetime…

You shift a little and your eyes blink open, staring at him dazed, red and puffy and your expression defeated. You let out a pitiful whine and more of that bitter sad scent is released. 

“No my dear, don’t cry, I’m here. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Zhongli coos as he curls up to you, frantically starting to scent and nip at your neck and shoulders affectionately. His horns manifest and his tail follows through, lashing about a little restless. The bond… feels wrong, broken. He should be able to intimately feel you this close and yet…

He tries to reposition you a little so you can lie on top of him, rest on his chest. It’s concerning how easily he can do so, you’re like a ragdoll in his arms, unresponsive and unmoving. His hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing at the traces of tears in your cheeks. You let out a frustrated whimper. “Shhhh shh it’s okay. I’m so sorry.”

Even if he says it a million times, it won’t feel enough.

Zhongli nuzzles at your neck and proceeds to do something he hasn’t done since he was practically a teen. He purrs. It’s a little rusty, comes off more as a grumbling but it seems to work as he feels you relax just slightly in his arms.

“I’m right here” Zhongli’s deep voice assures you, tugging you closer, mouthing at the soft skin along your collarbone. “I’m not going anywhere and I’m all yours, I promise, I promise. I won’t leave you alone, not ever.” He soothes.

He lowers a bit of your clothes at the shoulder and grazes his fangs along your faded mark, you tense and let out a long shaky breath.

“Everything will be ok.” He kisses the spot. “I’m sorry.”

And then he sinks his fangs in to reestablish the claim.

You cry out in pain and squirm, clawing at his clothes, but he holds you, his hand rubbing circles at your back, his tail intertwining with yours.

...

.....

...

At first nothing changes, but after a few moments… a low strained purr bubbles up from within you again.

[inverse-problem]

"you monster"

or, what if v2 got a chance for some revenge

(yeah okay I know v2 is dead, but I was thinking of this glados quote from portal 2 and then I came up with this)

[merlins-strawberriesandroses]

The thing no one ever considers while writing up character analyses about Merlin is that. he must have been sooooooo sleepy.

[sorunort]

you know what fuck you [un-greyscales your rpg world]

WAHOO THIS IS FINALLY DONE AAAAAAAGH my color hcs!!!!! some of these were harder than others (isabeau), some of them were easier than others (bonnie), but i'm pretty happy with them all!! especially mirabelle, i did her first but she ended up being my favorite of the bunch...

i'd like to do one for loop sometime (starry spacey galaxy body WHEEE) but i need to rest for like 3 days ough my RSI

[hattressofmadness]

Hattress nods.

They soon all head over to the picnic area. Hattress and Volo clear a relatively plain area, then went a certain distance from each other.

Hattress smirked. “One on one, Volo?”

“You’re on, Wo… Hattress! Wow, that may take a little getting used to.” Volo chuckled.

He took out an old-style Pokeball. “PIkachu, show them what you’re made of!” He tosses the ball, and the yellow Pokemon emerges.

Hattress laughed. “Shoulda guessed you’d use my own tricks against me! Deku, you’re up!”

Deku bounced onto the battlefield. He was one of the only Lumios-only triple types… Ghost-Fighting-Fire. Problem? Electric still had an advantage.

Hattress had memorized all of Deku’s moves, however… and secretly taught him a few while helping everyone out. She also knew that there was a chance that this Pikachu had “Static”, an ability which meant a chance of paralysis if Deku made contact with Pikachu’s fur. Which mean…

“DEKU AGILITY!!!”

Deku zipped around the battlefield so fast, he disappeared. Volo was taken aback, looking around for any visual clues. The Hattress he knew was battle-heavy. He had to smirk, though. He said, “Someone’s growing up with her battle tactics! Pikachu, rain the area with Thunderbolt!!!”

Pikachu nodded and bounced up into the air… and Hattress yelled, “DEKU AIR CUTTER NOW!!!”

Deku shimmered back into existence, kicking the air so hard it caused a slice of wind. It ripped towards the Pikachu… and with no handholds, it couldn’t dodge. Pikachu yelped in shock, going bouncing hard against the ground. Volo gaped…

Hattress laughed. “You’re right, Volo, I have grown up in battle tactics… being on the battlefield myself has opened my eyes to a few new tricks!” Also, there were options and problems that weren’t inside the games, but she would leave that out of the conversation for now. He probably actually would understand, but now wasn’t the time.

Pikachu got up, shaking itself out. If there had been an HP bar, everyone would be hearing the annoying red-zone beeping. Volo said, “Time for a taste of your own medicine! Pikachu, QUICK ATTACK!”

Hattress laughed as Pikachu attempted… and went right through Deku. “Deku’s a Ghost Type, Volo! Normal-type attacks have no effect! Deku, finish the battle with Arm Thrust!”

Deku nodded, zipping up to the confused Pikachu. Arm Thrust for him looked like punches… and it only took one to knock the PIkachu out.

Volo said, “Oh my…”

Hattress said, “YAY I WIN!!!”

The Pikachu was sturdy, and only out for a minute. It got up, shook its head in a dizzy manner, then wandered back to Volo. Volo chuckles and picked up the Pokemon. “Not bad… yeesh, I thought Hattress would actually be at a weakness, but I underestimated her again!” He laughed.

Hattress looked at the crowd. “All right, people, any questions?”

Pokémon: Light & Dark

@still-a-jedi

Warriors from another world… please save us from the darkness.

Hattress groaned as she came to. That new monster, the Screamer, had been hard to calm down. She had needed that nap, but…

Why was she rocking?!?

She jumped up, looking around. She, Dabs, and a toddler Miracle were on a boat. Her family was still out, as well as…

“Obi-Wan! Anakin! Qui-Gon!”

[angel-girldick]

Thinking about a Changeling that gets cursed so that every few days she transforms into the sexual desires of a random creature nearby. In her naturally chosen form she just looks like a pale Human, all shy and pure, built like a wood plank. Then suddenly and without warning, she turns into a busty blonde Elf with tits that tear right out of her leather armor. The next week, she becomes a muscular Tiefling with a massive cock that she couldn’t hope to hide in her tight riding pants. Later on it’s a Goblin, then a Satyr, then even a Mind Flayer.

She tries to shapeshift right back before anybody notices. But it always seems to happen in crowded places, so she always gets at least a few weird stares. She can‘t even tell whose fantasy she becomes most of the time. At first, she tries to convince herself that she hates it. But she can’t deny how hot it is.

She starts morphing her tits and hips and ass bigger in her natural form, hoping her party won’t notice if she does it slowly enough. If her tight, flat armor is going to get destroyed anyway, she might as well opt to wear a busier, curvier design, right? Then she starts adding the features people seem to like the most— sensitive Elf ears, handlebar Tiefling horns, a dexterous Dragonborn tail that draws attention to a bouncy Water Genasi ass. She tells her party she’s just experimenting and trying new things. They aren’t convinced.

It’s not too long until one of her party members catches her in a clearing near camp. She’s got a Lamia tongue wrapped around a giant Centaur cock, one clawed hand fondling her massive tits and the other furiously rubbing away at a fat swollen pussy. She becomes the party’s stress relief toy after that. The curse wears off after a while, but she never tells her friends— it’s just too tempting to suddenly and “accidentally” turn into their exact type in the hopes that they’ll pin her down and fuck her right then and there.

[the-local-lurker]

Ectoberhaunt Day 17: Blood

Danny tries to find a reliable method to clean his ectoplasm contaminated blood from his clothes - there's a reason his parents always wear hazmat suits.

(748 words... and an illustration!) (a fair warning: it's probably not very good, I'm just trying to practice)

_______

It started out simple enough. He changed into his human form after a nasty fight and before he knew it, the side of Danny's t-shirt was soaked red with his blood, giving off strange green glints every now and then. Unfortunate, but not that bad. 

Or that's what he thought, until he tried to wash it and realized that nothing worked. Not the usual things he used, and not even the tricks he found on the internet. Soap, water, baking soda, soaking, hydrogen peroxide, bleach…

“Ah!” 

Bleach was a bit surprising.

Danny jerked his hand away from the sizzling brownish mess that was gradually eating away at the poor fabric of his favorite t-shirt, almost knocking over the white canister of bleach nearby with the sudden movement. Good thing that he had a few shirts like that. 

He shook his fingers, slightly reddened and stinging from where they came into contact with the substance. It took him about a second of watching it bubble and increase in volume to deem it a lost cause and to hurriedly stuff it into the ecto-waste bag from the lab, whatever material it was made from thankfully withstanding the corrosive effects of the chemicals. Despite his swift action, a few leftover bubbles made it onto the floor, and proceeded to pop almost immediately, leaving nothing but a few small indentations in the tiles. 

“… Man. I can't believe I use this thing regularly.” Danny mumbled, shooting a look at the canister. 

So, that is a bust then.

Shaking his head, he stood up and lifted it, he should put it back in its place. And get rid of that bag. 

The next morning, Danny frowned at his closet in irritation, looking at the splotchy stains visible on a couple of his t-shirts. He had four clean ones left, and a few on which the blood wasn't that noticeable or easily covered. One would think that with how fast he heals, this would be far less of a problem, but no. That would mean things going well for him for once and we can't have that.

... He'd have to get this figured out soon if he doesn't want to dodge even more questions, if only about why he suddenly insists on doing his laundry by himself.

Well, he'll think about it in school. Not much else he can do about it for now. He grabbed some clothes and quickly got ready. Shortly, he was leaving through the front door, yelling out a quick goodbye to no one in particular – it pleased him a little when he heard his parents respond from the basement – and headed out. 

The walk to school was uneventful, and it was kind of sad how this was becoming a reason to feel uplifted. By the time he stood before the looming building, he still had time to spare, perfect. 

____

“It sucks. Better outcome–no effect, worse outcome–when I tried bleach, it got all corrosive.” Danny threw up his hands in frustration as he walked to class with Sam and Tucker. 

“Well, then you've got no other choice but to try random stuff until you discover something that works... What abooout… baking soda? Peroxide? Too obvious… lemon juice?” suggested Tucker, reading from his PDA.

“Nah, I tried all of that, among, like, twenty other things. I'm pretty sure there are literally no methods left,” answered Danny, sounding equal parts irritated and resigned.

“Even that detergent thing your parents made specifically for ectoplasm?” 

“Yep. That smudged it a little, I think, but it's not really enough to be useful,” 

“Have you tried stuff like sea salt or sage? Y'know, old school ghost purifying things? Might work on that too.” Shrugged Sam.

"I didn't. But that's..." Danny paused briefly, considering, before nodding: “that's worth a shot. Where do I get it?” 

Sam grinned. “I've got you covered. I'll bring it to school tomorrow. You better take some rubber gloves or something though. If it works, it's not a stretch to say that it'll work on your skin too."

“Got it. Thank you, Sam, you're a lifesaver.”

____

What the hell, it works.

It took a few tries and combinations with other washing supplies, but finally, it works! 

Danny will have to remember to thank Sam again after he's done with this, the relief he felt when he saw the dark spot gradually smudge and lose its saturation was stronger than he'd care to admit.

No more worrying about this particular problem.

Good.

[strawberry789]

I'm a big fan of the AU where Otto basically adopts all three Peters, so I wanted to do a little sketch for it. Poor Otto doesn't want to burden his boys with his own inner demons...

[greypetrel]

"I know you're right behind me" for priscilla/neve 💗

Hi Mo, thank you!

Something brief (for my standards), I tried at Neve’s pov and I hope I got her decently... If very unnerved, poor her, LOL.

Tis the prompt list

The sixteenth time

[ Female Laidir x Neve Gallus |  1475  words | No spoilers, canon typical violence ] "I know you're right behind me"

Not that Neve was paying attention to it on purpose.

Not that she had been studying how Rook fought.

Maybe she did, but it wasn’t because Priscilla had started to flirt, and she noticed she had a smile for her different than the one she had for the others. Again, not that she put actual effort to notice it, but she has seen that whenever Priscilla would smile at, say, Bellara or Lucanis, she wouldn’t look at either of them in the same way. She would laugh and coo at Bellara and thank her for allowing her to braid her hair and invent always new, creative and gravity-defying hairdos, before they started to chat. She would giggle at Lucanis having identity crises whenever she asked him and Spite which colour should she paint their nails, and the both of them heavily disagreed on the presence of flames.

No, it was just that it was something that involved Neve personally, was potentially dangerous for both of them. Hence, it was a problem that needed to be deconstructed and solved.

Hypothesis: Priscilla Laidir is keeping her back open on purpose to bother me and force me to run and go out of my way. If I don’t she’ll be stabbed, pierced by an arrow, hit by a spell, or thrown a big rock at. Observations: - Rook has a tendency to jump on first line and engage from up close. Quick movements in a precise rhythm. Sword, sword, shield bash. Variations. She looks playful, good footwork. Used to fight alone. - Quick talk with Davrin confirmed that: She’s more used to fight solo. - Seems not to care having her back uncovered during a fight. Had to cast a barrier to protect her 15 times, by now. Got covered in undead goo, demon ectoplasm, rolled in the mud in Lavendel to reach her in time. - Watched her and Davrin spar: Assan tried to pounce at her back, she heard and side stepped, having the griffon and the Warden collide. Won the duel. No barrier was needed, this time. Nice laugh - Quick talk with Harding: No, ever since she and Varric hired her, she never had to cover her back, nor was P ever hit for a rookie mistake. Nickname comes from something else. - Followed P, Davrin and Bellara in Arlathan from a distance. Never needed a barrier. Got hit, but on her side, when a demon sprouted tentacles she wasn’t expecting. Back protected. - Tried to throw a tangerine at her back, after dinner. She ducked. Conclusion: She is doing it on purpose, and just with me. Motive: ---

When it came to motive, Neve couldn’t fathom anything.

Bothering her felt.. Unlikely. Not now, after two months they had started whatever it was that started between them. Priscilla sought her company, but not in a clingy manner, and could accept a no when she was too much in her head but not so much. She never was a bother.

Irritating her? She had a silly humour, but she never used it to annoy others on purpose (it was maybe worse that she just found it funny). Andraste, she involved Spite in conversations, said she felt bad in ignoring him, if Emmrich could see him and he was constantly there. No, she didn’t irritate her on purpose.

Idiocy? Suicidal tendencies? Selective deafness when she was around? All her hypotheses on the motive felt unlikely.

The sixteenth time it happened, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

Rook was yet another time uncovered, giving her back to her. Only: there was a Sten in the middle, with one of those damn flame-throwers. And he had seen that Rook, busy fighting, was giving her back at him.

Neve called her aloud, but only elicited Priscilla to turn her head, look at her with a frown and turn back to the Sten she was engaging, parrying a hit with the shield. A flash of white teeth gritting between burgundy-painted lips and dark skin, she took the hit and slid back in the sand,  but didn’t fall.

The flame-thrower pointed at her.

Neve cursed and jumped forward, which attracted the attention of the Qunari.

Instead of hitting him right away, she casted a barrier at Rook’s back, right before the flames could hit her. She got uncovered, tried to retreat but wasn’t quick enough. She hated fighting on sand, her prosthetic just wanted to dig deep, and it made moving slower, more tiring.

The big tongue of flames didn’t hit her, but still the front of her coat caught on fire, right on the corner. She threw a spell and froze him, gaining some time to put some distance between them. Thankfully enough, there was Lucanis, free after dispatching an enemy, to cover for her. A couple of well-placed daggers stopped the tall Qunari, enough for Priscilla to swing around and throw her shield. She aimed true, and one of the spikes on the shell it was shaped from stuck in the big Qunari throat.

With a last gurgle, the las Antaam soldier fell, signing a victory to them.

“Are you fine?”

Now she had the guts to ask.

Neve shrugged, waving absent-mindedly her hand to evoke ice enough to put the fire on her coat off.

“You owe me a new coat, I don’t think it can be repaired.” Neve said, looking down.

The front side was black and charred, a full corner was lost. The pants underneath were a little singed, but nothing unsalvageable on those, at least.

“Are you fine?” Rook repeated, coming closer and hooking a finger under her chin, gently pushing until Neve looked at her. “Your leg?”

Unbearably earnest, that what Priscilla Laidir was. First putting you in trouble because she didn’t think, then bashing all your sarcasm down to check you were well for real. She had the guts of looking worried, too. Her and her stupid bright pink makeup and ribbon-shaped hair.

Surely she was less well disposed because she was tired and icky, from the extra exertion that fighting on softer grounds meant (she should really ask for another prosthetic, more fit for sand and mud, Rivain and Lavendel had both been more difficult than they should with the stupid heel), sweaty and grumpy from the sun, Priscilla and her shenanigans were just the extra thing grating on her nerves. Neve could hate her, if-

“Why are you always leaving your back open?” She snapped, instead.

“What?” She asked, frowning. “I don’t!”

“Right, you don’t.” Neve scoffed, irritated. “You only do it when I’m around. Only with me. You knew you had another enemy at your back. You could have retreated, instead of keeping an enemy at your back. You didn’t, and if I hadn’t- You-”

There was something in her chest that pressed at the idea of the outcome, of all the possible outcomes her mind could trace. None was positive and none eased the metaphorical hand that was squeezing her stomach at picturing Priscilla dead in at least five different ways. So, she snapped her chin away from Rook’s hand -ignored that she missed the contact- and headed back to camp.

“You’ll get yourself killed.”

One moment. The other. The stupid sun was way too hot.

Steps to her side, quicker than hers. She eyed at her side Priscilla’s arm, hooked in an offer, but ignored it, stubbornly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was bothering you so much.” She said, nonchalantly. “I’ll sew you a new coat, this was old, anyway, and I have your measures already. Wanna come with me to Minrathous to find some fabric? I don’t think I have enough fabric in turquoise.”

“It isn’t the coat, Trouble.”

She heard her humming in assent, knew her enough to know it was an understanding one.  Finally, they reached some paved ground and some shade, protected from the sun by the canopy of trees. Neve sighed, in relief. She missed keenly the constant drizzle of her city, now that she didn’t have to constantly live under it.

“I know it isn’t the coat.” Priscilla added, softly.

“Then what-”

“I know you’re right behind me.” When she turned, Priscilla turned too, stopping when she did and smiling. She had the guts of blushing and looking down, even. “I just… It’s nice to be reminded that you care for me as well.”

Brash, quick in a battle, always a smile on her face, and unbearably earnest and sweet. Neve could hate her, if-

She turned and cupped her face, dragging her down to her. Pressed a kiss on her lips. An oomph, and a muffled giggle, and Neve felt hugged, as the other answered to the kiss.

“Don’t do that, ever again.”

“I’m sorry.” Priscilla laughed, and kissed her again. She really wasn’t, Neve knew, and didn’t care all that much.

[white-weasel]

It’s called Saw because once you’ve seen it then you’ve saw it!!!!

(Aka closet Amanda Young cosplay I did to see Saw in theaters for its 20th anniversary showing!)

[sonknuxadow]

was really excited for sonic 3 at first but the more information that comes out about it the more nervous i get. we barely even know anything yet and they somehow keep making all the wrong decisions. Come on man.

[le-jardin-inculte]

don't mind me just thinking about

and

something something the mortifying ordeal of being Perceived

[tirfpikachu]

tfw i have $948cad and rent is $980 AND MY PLACE IS A WRECK

[dykecubes]

I think a major part of why the the idea that men are the problem in this situation rubs me the wrong way is because it’s just weeks after Cellbit came forward with his abuse story, a man who was abused by a woman, and who’s story didn’t get nearly as much attention as this despite their similarities

To imply that all men are always the brutish, violent attackers to innocent female victims is.. well it’s archaic, it’s misogynistic, and it implies that it’s impossible for men to be the victims of abuse, immediately discrediting the stories of male victims

This is especially important considering that, from the evidence we’ve seen and from billzo’s response, it’s very clear that his girlfriends were likely not the only people Wilbur abused and he probably did have male victims too

[naurasweetarudesu]

The Centennials!

Art trade with @skarloeyspa . I drew their Skarloey and Rheneas because I love these two silly old men 🥹

I love how they made these two changes outfit that based on the eras where they get overhaul. Love the 1958's Loey and 1961's Neas because idk but I feel that kind of outfit gave classy but casual vibe.

Without background: