#i never made gifs of this scene and it is an outrage

[pharawee]

Tong Surawit as KHANA & Lee Long Shi as PAO —TIN TEM JAI, Episode 3

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: D for Doggy

Summary: How does an Endless teach you a lesson? Maybe on your hands and knees.

Notes: ~2.9k words, your girl needs to get laid 눈_눈

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, unprotective sex (do you think Endless can get STDs?), fem!reader, dom!dream, p in v, no foreplay goin' in dry babyyyy, jealous dream, unintentional cheating, slight angst but it gets fucked out, enjoy

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

C for Cockwarming ⇆ E for Edging

The world warps around you once again as your body stretches to a singular dimension. You are the beginning and end of everything. You will be there even when Death leaves and then you will take what she has left and open the next universe. Rebirth and repurpose. 

The Traveller. The One Who Knows. The Singularity. 

You have a name, you think, but it’s so old you don’t even remember how it feels on your tongue. 

It’s lonely being you, your sole job is making sure that everything works out in the end for every being, dead, alive, or yet to exist. And in your lonely existence, you often wander to different universes and realms. Your favorite was the Dreaming, a large realm that spread several different universes ruled by the Lord of Dreams, Morpheus. 

The familiar essence of the Dreaming greets you when you’re done warping into the realm. You feel each cell of your body rebuilding itself, from quirks to cells, from cells to living organisms, you are reborn. With a blow from your lips, your hair made of star systems and nebulas float back into place. 

The familiar corset you wore before you warped cinches around your waist and a breath leaves you, the ivory bones poking into your ribs. It was the necessary fashion for the realm you went to where a sneakily placed seed was enough to end a war that would come in five decade’s time. The rest of the time was spent entertaining the fae prince in his court. A good way to pass the time, but it eventually got boring, hence here you were.

The smell of tea and leather bound books indicates that you managed to weasel yourself into Lucienne’s library. You run your fingers across the spine of old and new books alike, occasionally itching your back when the markings annoy you. The corset dilutes the relief and you’re left with a slight vex for being denied scratching an itch. Lucienne is fast to find you, or you her, it’s all the same to you. You greet each other at a long table. Scrolls, books, and maps laid out before you. 

“Lady Singularity,” She greets with a familiar smile. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a few decades now, has it?” 

“It has.” You agree as you turn your attention to the worn book in her hands, noticing the familiar face of the fae prince you met. “I was just with him.” You comment off handedly. 

“Of course, the Dreaming catalogs everything. You have been busy.” Lucienne comments as she continues to flip through the pages of your recent adventure. 

You look over her shoulder and read along with her, chuckling to yourself at the fun you had. When a familiar scene starts to unfold on the page, blush creeps up your cheeks and down your neck, a few of the stars in your hair exploding from your outrage. 

“Don’t read that!” You exclaim as you yank the book from her hands. You close it shut and the sound echoes in the library. 

“Oh, please, I’ve read everything. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lucienne takes the book from you and no matter how hard you grip, the librarian has some weird power over the book and takes it easily. 

“Okay, well don’t read it when I’m in the room. I don’t need a friend to know what I did with… him.” Your words taper as you give yourself away the more you speak. “I’m leaving.” You say quickly as you run away from the situation. 

The sun is setting when you make your way up the winding and seemingly never-ending stairs of the castle. The halls were cast in warm pinks and oranges when you reached the room the Dream Lord had given you the first time you visited several millennia ago. The room is the same as you left it, the open window giving to a soft breeze as dusk turns to night. 

You walk to the mirror, noticing slight changes to your physical form when you jump through that wormhole. You’ll stay the night and then go back to your own realm, the dimension between past and future, but for now, the present is much needed. 

You pull at the string of your outer dress and start to breathe easier, the heavy fabric dropping and pooling around your feet. Your shoes come off soon after and then your stockings. Your fingers grasp at the strings that tie your corset together but each time comes just an inch short. You’re becoming breathless from the struggle when your room door opens. 

“Singularity.” A voice calls out to you. His shadow blocks the entire door before he slinks into the room. His robe flowed behind him like a wave of black ink. 

“Hello, Morpheus.” You greet back, looking at him through the ornate mirror. 

You go back to trying to loosen your corset, the markings on your back growing more and more itchy the longer you struggle. You give up with a huff, and your shoulders sag in defeat. 

“Allow me,” Dream offers and his cold fingers run across your upper back, moving the nebulas over your shoulder, then trailer down your shoulder. 

Goosebumps follow the fingers and down your arms before his slender fingers go to untangle the corset strings. You feel his exhale on the back of your neck and you close your eyes, afraid of what you may look like to him through the mirror, or worse yet losing yourself if you were to see him. You do end up peaking and watching intensely at how his expert fingers unfasten the strings of the constricting clothing. 

“I have missed you.” Dream confesses.

His lips press against the base of your neck when the corset finally comes off. Despite it slowly coming off, you find it hard to breathe still. His proximity was going to kill you if the end of time didn’t. He looks at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers land on your waist. 

“Will you stay the night?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing the soft skin beneath it again. His hands go over your shoulder again, pulling at the chemise and letting the thin fabric fall off by itself. The final piece of clothing joining the others at your feet. 

You turn around, his hands guiding you, and place your arms around his neck, resting them there on his shoulders. 

“Maybe a few nights, if you shall permit it?” You grin up at him with a slight tilt of your head. 

He chuckles and leans in for a kiss and you meet him halfway, standing on your toes to reach his height. Oh, how he has missed the taste of you, the softness of your lips pressed against his. You have been gone too long, he thinks with a groan. 

You jump and find it to no surprise when he catches you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist comfortably as he moves the two of you towards the bed. Morpheus is all hands, running them over the roundness of your ass, up the curves of your hips, back down to caress the plumpness of your thighs. 

His lips continue, running his tongue across your bottom lip and leaning into you when you answer with a whine. The taste of you drives him crazy, his mind is in swirls as he tastes faerie pomegranate and figs. 

“Did you visit the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He pulls away from your lips despite the difficulty of being away from you. Instead he finds solace in the shape of your collarbone, pressing open mouth kisses onto the thin skin. “I can taste it. I can taste him.” His voice rumbles with danger, the voice of a jealous lover. 

Oblivious, you settle your arms around his neck, playing with the small loose hairs at the base of his head. “I did, why?”

“And you visited him?” He asked again, emphasizing the word to ask you indirectly of what he really wanted to know. 

You look at him, eyes dark and swirling with emotion, his hands on your hips holding you harder as the seconds tick by. 

“Yes?” You answer unsure. “I visited him.”

A frown etches onto his face as he stays silent. 

You scoff at his reaction. “Of course I have multiple lovers, as I expect you to as well?”

Your fingers wander upwards into his unruly hair, twisting a few strands between your fingers. Still, he stays silent. The only indication was the brief flick of his eyes leaving yours. 

“Oh,” You say when you understand. “Oh.” You say one more time when the weight of the conversation dawns on you again. 

You’ve never felt more exposed than you have now, an emotional wedge driven between you and Morpheus. You get up from his lap and it hurts when he lets you, you feel the way your stomach drops at how easily he lets you go. Your arms cross over your chest and you step further away from the bed, and from him. The two parts of the equation are something you no longer saw yourself allowed to be a part of. 

“Forgive me, I presumed you had other lovers,” You meekly say.

Morpheus saw you now, no longer the confident entity that you usually were. You didn’t even meet his gaze. The stars in your hair turned blue and dull, a few dying at the fraying ends. 

“You presumed I had other lovers?” He echos, his voice tipped with anger. He stands now, looming over you, peering at you down his nose. His question was obvious, accusatory, and somewhat downright demeaning. 

“Forgive me, I’ll just…” You turn to leave, running away just as you’ve always done when things get too hard. You feel the way your body begins to warp, unraveling strand by strand. 

The warping stops when cool hands wrap themselves around your waist once again. One moment you are between realms and the next you are pulled back on the plush bed. You stare, dazed, at the equally ornate headboard and try to backtrack what just happened. Morpheus comes behind you, watching with lust filled eyes of you on your hands and knees, at the way your hair falls over your shoulders. You turn your head and look at him over your shoulders, unsure what was happening. Morpheus’s face gives away nothing, even his clothes disappeared, an act that you didn’t see him do.

“What’s–” Your words are cut off as he leans and his hand comes entangled in your hair, firmly grasping it. A gasp leaves your lips and you notice the way your body couldn’t stop the way your back arched at the pleasurable pain. 

“Bow your head,” He growls as he shoves your head into the pillow. Your arms give out beneath you at the slight force. Heat travels easily down to your core and you feel the wetness slide down your inner thigh. 

“It’s Lord Morpheus for tonight, darling. You will do well to remember that.” His voice gravels as he runs a finger down your spine. He traces the markings lightly, causing a ticklish sensation across your back and a whine follows. Your ass pushes back on him impatiently at which he clicks his tongue at. 

“You do not get to ask for anything tonight. You will only take what your rightful lover will give you, understood?” His fingers trace your opening teasingly as his other hand holds down your hip in control, 

“Yes, my lord,” You gape, your eyes rolling and you swore you could see the back of your skull. A plea rests heavy on your tongue, but you bite yourself so as to not break his rules tonight. 

Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover, but even his patience can run thin. His eyes run over your figure, curves prominent at the position he has placed you in. He loved you like this, vulnerable, exposed, and ready for him to do as he pleases with you tonight. 

The hotness of him presses against your entrance, sitting comfortably between your lips and he pushes forward once, twice, neither times entering you. You only whine in distress as he dances the line between teasing and pure, unadulterated pleasure. He caresses his hand over the curve of your ass, against the softness of your thighs, just like before, and you understand that he isn’t mad anymore, but you will be taught a lesson tonight nonetheless. 

He grabs the base of your hair again, the nebulas leaving shimmering stardust over his finger and presses a third time. His other hand grounds you on your hips and he pushes in. Without any proper foreplay his size stretches you uncomfortably. But, Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover so he stays still, fighting every urge in his shaking body as he looks down at your ragged breathing and uncontrollable shivers. 

He waits until you push back into him before he begins to move, taking you in inch by thick inch. He pulls out and a groan vibrates in his throat at the drag of his cock in you. The sound of your muffled moans spur him as he stares at how he enters you again. One more drag of his cock and he starts to fuck you in earnest as your whimpers grow louder. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounce around the room accompanied by the sound of your wonton, muffled moans. He pulls at your hair, pulling your face away from the pillows and the sounds grow louder. Each thrust he gives you makes your moans grow higher in pitch. You don’t think he’s ever been this deep in you as he scrambles the thoughts into your brain into nothing more than pleasurable gibberish. 

His hands were everywhere they could get a hold of. You’re chanting now, anything that comes across as a thought in your mind leaves your mouth in a haste of gibberish and repeats of his name like a mantra. Your clit begs for attention and with the last bit of clarity you had left, you moved one hand down towards your core. 

Morpheus is quick to stop you, giving a sound slap on the meat of your ass cheeks, the sting enough for you to yank your hand away. 

“Please,” You whine. “Please, please, please, my lord.”

“Will you return to the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He asks between pants.

Your pussy tightens around his cock as his fingers and trusts do not slow down. Your orgasm was imminent and just barely shimmering under your skin. The question he asks sounds muffled in your mind, distorted amongst the thoughts of his unrelenting pounding and your clit pulsing from attention. 

“Hah… who?” You managed to choke out.

“Perfect answer, my star.” He whispers in your ear.

“Please,” You beg again. “I need it.” 

He thinks for a bit, considering if you deserve it as he watches you try to fuck yourself harder by meeting his thrusts. With a hum he leans over you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body as his fingers slide between your legs. He taps it once, enough to make you jump slightly in your skin, before he draws tight circles around the enlarged clit, your arousal making the action easy and slippery. 

Somewhere along the lines of your moaning, drool seeps out of you, wetting the pillow with your spit. Morpheus notices, of course, and grins at the sight. 

“Let me cum, please let me cum!” You plead into the air, obscenities of his name following soon after. 

“Very well, I shall give it to you.” 

Morpheus fucks you harder, just the way you like it, just the way he knows how to give it to you. Your orgasm is ripped out of you with a high pitched wail, sparking down your spine as little firecrackers light up in your hair, your teeth buzzing with the force of it all. The wetness of your orgasm soaks the inside of your thighs and drips down onto the sheets. Morpheus watches closely as it leaves you in a panting mess and feels himself become undone, releasing himself into the deepest part of you. 

He stays like that for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of your sex. When he does pull out, the mixture of your two arousals slowly seeps out, joining the puddle on the sheets. He calms his breathing, going back to tracing the art on your spine. You collapse in a heap of flesh and bones, using the last bit of your energy to turn over and lay on your back. Morpheus crawls over you, his hand never leaving your skin as he cups your face. 

“No more lovers but you,” You promise as he places a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I could never control you even if I wanted to, but… thank you,” He says as he accepts your promise. 

Morpheus falls beside you and pulls the blankets over both of your bodies, pulling you close so you would be flushed against his side. By now the sun has long since set and the two lovers share each other’s embrace in the company of stars. 

C for Cockwarming ⇆ E for Edging

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

This was my poor attempt at understanding physics and trying to personify a concept like a singularity

♡ Yours, Layla

[vampirestookmydoubts]

Well I know he’s canceled and problematic but before I used to love watching the Cosby show. And that scene when little four year old Olivia is explaining where babies come from is hilarious and I would love to see it in a Bridgerton setting. Like when Eloise asks how children are made daughter!reader is there too and like is basically Olivia and informs them the same way she did and everyone’s just like...🤭😮. Please make it more Benedict centric. If you’re uncomfortable doing this request because of the whole Cosby thing I completely understand.

The stork seed

A/N: Thank you for the request! Tbh I never watched The Cosby Show, but I know of the controvery. I still wanted to do your request as I loved the idea of a 4-year-old explaining the world to Eloise lol. I watched the scene and read the transcription and I hope I was able to write it the way you wanted me to! I think I left it kind of open if y/n is the daughter of Violet or one of the siblings. Hope you like it!

Characters: bridgerton!reader, bridgerton!daughter, Benedict Bridgerton, Colin Bridgerton, Eloise Bridgerton, Violet Bridgerton, Daphne Bridgerton

Warnings: none

The living room of the Bridgerton estate was filled with the usual lively chatter and activity.

Benedict sat in his favorite armchair, sketching away, while you, the youngest one in the house at four years old, sat on the floor playing with one of the dolls Colin bought you on his latest travels.

Meanwhile, Eloise, the ever-curious Bridgerton, lounged on the sofa half-mindedly reading a book, her mind buzzing with questions.

Suddenly, Eloise looked up, her brow furrowed in thought.

"Benedict, can I ask you something?"

Benedict glanced up from his sketchbook, intrigued by Eloise's sudden serious tone. "Of course, sister. What's on your mind?"

"How does a woman come with child?" Eloise asked, her tone serious but tinged with nervous curiosity. The lively bustle of the remaining family in the room came to a sudden halt, their attention suddenly on her. “Eloise!”, Daphne exclaimed shocked, but her own curiosity was written in her face. Benedict's eyebrows shot up in surprise, caught off guard by the unexpected question. Before he could formulate a response, you, always eager to contribute you own unique perspective on life, chimed in from the floor.

"Everybody knows the stork brings them!" You declared proudly, eyes shining with conviction.

Benedict obviously struggled to contain his amusement, exchanging amused glances with Colin.

"Is that so, love?" he asked, barely managing to keep a straight face. "Yes, Mama told me!" you nodded vigorously, your expression earnest. “So, the stork puts the baby in the belly of the mother?”

Outraged by Colins question you shook your head. “No! The stork takes the baby from heaven and puts it in the bassinet.”

Eloise frowned at your response, still trying to make sense of it all. "But why do women get a big belly when it's the stork that brings the baby?"

You paused, considering the question for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Mommy told me that mommies have a special seed in the belly!"

Eloise's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected explanation. "A special... seed?"

"Yeah!" You nodded enthusiastically. "Like the ones mommy plants in her garden! But only daddies have the baby seed."

Benedict and Colin struggled visually to contain their laughter at the innocence of your explanation and the discussion that unfolded in front of them.

"But then why could I feel something move in mommy's belly when she was pregnant with you, Y/N?" Eloise asked further, turning to you with a curious expression. "If it's the stork that brings the baby."

You paused for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "Oh, that's just gas from eating the seeds!"

Benedict couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, erupting into a fit of giggles, that infected the rest of the present family. Even Eloise couldn't help but chuckle at your matter-of-fact explanation.

"You mean to tell me," Benedict said between laughs, "that all those times Mama said she was feeling you kick, it was just... gas?"

You nodded earnestly with a serious expression. "Yep! Just gas from the seed."

Eloise shook her head in disbelief, still trying to wrap her mind around the absurdity of the situation, while you returned to play with your dolls. "Well, I suppose that's one way to explain it.", she murmured, sitting down between Colin and Benedict, crossing her arms. “You two know more about this, don’t you?”

“Have you ever been to a farm?”, Colin started, earning a slap against the back of his head by his brother, as Violet Bridgerton entered the room.

"What has everyone so amused?" Violet asked, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched you play with your toys.

Colin grinned mischievously, looking back at his mother. "Oh, we were just explaining to Eloise how babies are made, Mama. According to Y/N, it involves a stork, a special seed from the garden, and a bit of gas." Violet’s smile slipped into a face of shock and indignation, a faint pink creeping onto her cheeks. “Colin Bridgerton, stop encouraging your sister in such delicate subjects!” Benedict stifled a laugh, which earned him a strict gaze from his mother. “Don’t get me started on you, Benedict!” Raising his hand in defence, the second eldest returned to his sketchbook not being able to hide the smile on his lips.

In this moment he couldn't help but feel grateful for his quirky and lovable family. Life with the Bridgertons was certainly never dull, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

[storiesofsvu]

Forced Hand

Casey Novak x reader warnings: language, regular SVU case details talked about/mentioned, anxiety attack. it's a hurt/comfort besties. A combination of requests that were relatively along the same lines so I put it together into one. Welcome back to the blog Ms Novak, we've missed you! If you don't want to miss a thing, sign up for the taglist here! If you like what you read, don't forget to reblog/comment and always feel free to send in your own requests! They're always open!

You worked homicide, you weren’t supposed to be in a courtroom like this, and you certainly weren’t supposed be on the losing side. Your squad had picked up a case that later appeared to be linked to a string of open cases over at SVU and your captains insisted on working together. A few extra sets of eyes were always a good thing, a fresh perspective on the situation, they said.

What they hadn’t been able to prep you for was the viciousness of the case, and the fact that three of the victims were still alive. The crime scenes had been brutal and you were honestly shocked that anyone had survived through it, you’d been rattled to your core to discover your victims were all girls under the age of twelve. Girls who you had to watch be treated for shock on top of their injuries before retraumatizing them all over again with questioning to get their full stories, children who you then had to spend hours prepping for the brutality of a trial like this.

You were typically good with kids; Casey knew that which was one of the reasons she’d chosen you along with Benson to help her prep everyone. She watched with pride as you were able to break things down from confusing legal terms to something the girls could understand, how soft you were with them, how cautious you were how well you worked with Olivia in reminding them how strong and brave they were for doing this, and that the bad guy couldn’t hurt them anymore.

She also watched how that strong, encouraging façade would drop the moment you stepped into your shared apartment, weariness and exhaustion taking over your features and you turned down dinner and attempted to wash the day away in a too hot shower. You’d eventually reappear a couple of hours later in a pair of sweats and her worn Harvard tee, silently cuddling up to her side on the couch and she’d pass off her glass of scotch for you to finish. She’d put her work away, wrapping it up neatly so you wouldn’t have to see any of the crime scene photos again, urging you to lean into her embrace, pressing soft kisses to your skin and the top of your head until your stomach would let out a growl you’d finally submit to ordering some take out. You never said a word about it, and Casey never once pried or poked around until you said something, she let you go about your day, happy when she would catch you smiling or laughing with someone and she would always make sure she was ready and available for extra cuddles and wordless encouragement. She knew you were struggling, but that you were also handling it, and doing so in your own way, the case was close enough to over that you’d be able to breathe freely again in a matter of days.

However things were looking bleaker and bleaker as the trial strung along. The girls were strong on the stand for Casey, answering properly, detailing what they needed to, not matter how hard it was. When Casey turned around to take her seat again she caught your eye in the gallery and felt her heart tug at the tears shimmering in your eyes and the pain written across your face. What she missed was that pain turning into absolute outrage as the defence attorney started their cross and tore into all three of the victims like he was the devil. He twisted things around, barked out questions too quickly, stepped too close to the witness box, doing everything he could to get at least one person on the jury to side with him. And every motion he made broke down those poor little girls and their families even more. And you right along with them.

Casey lost you at lunch, no clue where you had ran off to when you weren’t in her office when she got there. Still, she knew you’d be there for the verdict, so she grabbed an extra coffee on her way back, deciding to go in the side door to avoid the press. She jumped a puddle as she crossed the street, cursing that she’d left her umbrella in her office, thinking the rain was done for the day. Dodging rain drops she finally rounded the bend to the side door and found you leaning up against the wall, staring down at your feet until you heard her voice.

“It’s raining, you should be inside.” She commented.

“I’m fine.” You replied, and her eyes caught the movement of your hand, hiding it behind your back and she realized you’d snuck out for a smoke.

“Okay.” She stepped up to you, kissing your cheek softly, “don’t get too cold.” She passed off the coffee and you took it from her with a small smile.

“Thanks.”

Her finger curled under your chin so she could catch your eye, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You mustered up a small smile, letting her kiss you softly before she disappeared inside.

Finishing your smoke, you stubbed it out with your toe and took a heavy breath, the last thing in the world you wanted to do right now was go back into that courtroom. You didn’t want to know the outcome, wanted to walk away from this forever and pretend it never happened. But you knew that those families were depending on you and your squads to help get them through it, to be the backbone when the verdict was read and help them figure out what their next steps were. There was a reason you preferred homicide.

The surefire grin on the perp’s face was the first tell, how casually he was talking with his lawyer, the nearly awkward, slightly guilty look on the faces of half the jury was the second, the way Casey’s hand tightened around her pen as she chewed on her lip, her jaw tightening was the last. You felt the burning in your stomach start to creep up your throat, your hands shoved into your pockets so no one would see them shaking as the verdict was read.

“Not guilty on all counts.”

Your ears were ringing, you couldn’t hear yourself think much less the commotion in the courtroom, the scared and confused questions coming from the girls as their parents scrambled to try and figure out any kind of an answer. Your vision was nearly blurring and this time it wasn’t from the tears, everything about this was wrong, it was more than wrong and it was disgusting. Someone grabbed your hand and it was as if you had been clapped on the ears and you could suddenly hear the cries of the girl beside you, the terror written across her tiny features as she looked up at you for an answer. You barely heard yourself when you spoke,

“I’m so, so sorry.”

Your chest was suddenly tight, squeezing all the air out of your lungs as pictures from the case began to invade your brain, memories collaborating with imagination, making everything even worse. You weren’t entirely sure what was happening but you knew you couldn’t let it happen in this courtroom.

When Casey heard the door heavily drop shut she instantly knew it was you leaving and her heart dropped into her stomach. A glance over her shoulder confirmed her theories, catching Liv’s gaze with an incredibly apologetic look in her eyes, the brunette nodded, her way of saying ‘I know you did everything you could’ before her head tilted in the direction of the door. ‘I’ve got this, go get your girl.’ Casey didn’t even bother to give the defence the privilege of a glance as she packed up her things and slipped from the courtroom. Unsure on whether you would still be in the building or not she headed toward the side exit, knowing there was a fairly unused bathroom over there that was still close enough to the part you’d been in. She heard the flush of the toilet through the door, the sound of the tap running as she pushed it open, catching you rinsing out your mouth, splashing cold water over your face as you struggled to catch your breath.

You barely even noticed someone else in the bathroom with you, your vision still tunnelling and filled with gruesome, bloody images and the faces of those poor girls while they told their horrible stories. Wiping the water off your face you took a heaving breath, it still felt like there was a cinder block resting on your chest and as much as throwing up had helped, there was stomach acid creeping up your throat, making it burn even worse. Your brain started to race, remembering all the things you’d said alongside Olivia to the girls, encouraging them that it would all be okay, that you’d caught the bad guy, now you were going to put him away. That their nightmares would eventually stop, they wouldn’t have to be scared anymore because he would be in prison, the promises you’d made them, every single one of them turning out to be empty.

“Oh god….” It came out as a half choked sob and you turned toward the window, bracing your hands on the sill as the heavy cries started to spill from deep within you, tears beginning to stream down your cheeks.

“Hey…” Casey’s soft voice didn’t manage to break through your conscious, but you felt the welcomed coolness of her hand between your shoulder blades and you shuddered, “it’s not your fault.” Her hand began to rub slow circles, “you worked your ass off and did everything you could.”

You tried to form even a single word but you couldn’t find your voice, another choked sob escaping your lips as you started to hyperventilate, completely unable to get enough air into your lungs, feeling even more like you were drowning.

“Whoa, whoa…” Casey’s arms cautiously wrapped around you, “c’mere.” She pulled you flush to her, frowning at the feeling of your heart pounding against your ribs and just how hot your skin was to her touch.

You didn’t struggle, but you protested a little bit, your hands pushing against her arms until she grabbed your wrists in one of her hands, restraining you as she leant forward, pushing open the window as far as she could. You let out a cry, not wanting to be forced to be still but the sudden woosh of cold air was a refuge to your burning lungs and your breath shuddered as you finally collapsed against Casey. Your eyes finally cracked open, tears continuing to trail over your cheeks as the cool breeze ghosted over your skin. You could feel Casey’s heart strumming against your back, slow and steady, a stark difference to yours pounding in your chest, her breath was cool on the side of your neck, breathing calm and even. Her chest rising and lowering slowly, and you were able to slowly match her breathing, calming yourself down and you felt like you could finally breathe again, sniffling as you relaxed in her arms.

“I’m sorry…” you finally whimpered.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “you did your job.”

“I’m not strong enough.” You admitted with another soft cry, finally letting yourself turn around when Casey stepped away to grab a tissue. You took it from her but dropped against the wall, staring down at your shoes. “I can’t do this. I’m not good enough for it, I disappointed so many people today. I’m a complete failure.”

Casey’s hand found your cheek, wiping away your tears as she stepped back toward you, “you’ve been completely out of your comfort zone for almost a month, there’s nothing wrong with that, but you are not a failure.”

You dared a glance up at her, unsurprised at the complete empathetic expression on her face, “how do you do this every day?”

“You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I’ve cried in my office.”

“Case…” Your voice softened as the tears finally came to a stop.

“I know how incredibly hard sex crimes is, I didn’t want to be bringing that home to you every day.” She leant in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “you see enough brutalization over at homicide, I don’t need you getting SVU’s baggage too.”

“I am never going to forget the look on that girl’s face….” You were almost talking to yourself, staring off into the distance and Casey’s thumb and forefinger curled around your chin, redirecting your gaze to her face.

“You will.” She assured, “and it is because you are strong, and you are strong enough. Do you know how I know why?” You shook your head, “because I see the cases that you bring home, the trials you’ve sat through, the amount of times you’ve taken down a perp, dismantled a defence attorney during a cross. You’re not used to living victims, and that is completely okay. Days like today will absolutely rip you to shreds and make you think that you aren’t cut out for it, but you’re going to wipe these tears, keep that pretty little chin up and come out even stronger on the other side. Okay?”

You nodded meekly, trying to hold back any remaining tears as Casey wrapped her arms tightly around you, tucking you into the crook of her shoulder as you finally relaxed into the embrace. She held you for as long as you needed, leaving tender kisses on the top of your hair and your temple, hands soothingly rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re incredible baby, don’t even forget that.” She murmured, “you were forced to try your hand at a new thing and now we know it’s not for you. You’re still an incredible rockstar when it comes to homicide and come Monday that’s what you get to go back to doing. Promise me you won’t let this drag you down too long?”

She pulled away from the hug, her hand brushing a piece of your mussed up hair behind your ear before caressing down the side of your cheek and she left a kiss on the tip of your nose, waiting for a response. You took a breath, finally feeling calmed down enough to feel human again when you finally looked up at her.

“Only if you promise to not keep everything bottled up and to yourself anymore.” You offered and her brow furrowed, “I know you Casey, you wear your heart on your sleeve, someone like you, doing something like this every day? That can’t be easy, I don’t need to know all the details but I don’t want you doing it alone. You shouldn’t have to cry alone in your office when you can come home and cry over a pint of ice cream with some extra cuddles.”

“Okay.” Casey let out a tiny laugh, her lips curving up into a grin, a warmth soothing through her at the sight of smile finally on your cheeks. “You’ve got yourself a deal.” Her arm wound around your shoulders, “now how about we get out of here? A pint of ice cream sounds pretty fucking good right now.”

“And pizza?” You asked, looking up at her with a pout and puppy dog eyes and she chuckled again, kissing the tip of your nose.

“The perfect combo. But that doesn’t answer what Disney movie we’re going to watch to forget about today.”

“Mmm…” you tugged your lip into your mouth as you thought, “Emperors New Groove?”

“That… sounds amazing.” She smiled at you, “you ready to go home?”

“Yeah.” You replied with a soft sigh, leaning into her side for a moment before her hand trailed down your arm, linking your fingers with her own and you were finally ready to leave the bathroom. “Casey?”

“Yeah baby?” She glanced back at you, nothing but adoration pouring from her eyes.

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

____________

@bisexualcrowley @red1culous @imlike-so-gaydude @wannabe-fic-reader @altsvu @disneyfan624 @svulife-rl @svushots @mysticfalls01 @bumblebear30 @solemnnova @infernumlilith @australiancarisi @cerberus-spectre @emskisworld @thestarrynightslover @lawandorderuswnt @ex-uallyactive @hbkpop @samwithnoplan @multifandomlesbianic @narvaldetierra @dxtery @poisonedcrowns @a-little-bit-of-this-and-that @clarawatson @mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @yeeterthek33per @brooklynmhm @alexxavicry @daddy-heather-dunbar @7thavenger @augustvandyne @msvenablesbitch @happenstnces @valentinesfrog @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @desperate-gay @riveramorylunar @irishavengersassemble @kmc1989 @holycrapraewth @noahrex @temp0rary-bliss @wittygutsy @chimnlex @nilaues @borinxnovak

[cardassianexpats]

On Good Omens, contentment and happiness

Okay, everybody, please bear with me, this might be long.

This is about something that I've noticed in the past, but that was really painfully obvious following the release/leaks of information around Good Omens season 3 over the last few days.

There seem to be two categories of people. The ones that appreciate what they have and the ones that always demand more. Let's talk about the latter category first:

I am using the word demand here because very often I am more reminded of a toddler throwing a tantrum about not being allowed more candy than a grown person that has any experience about what the world is like. I don't want to over-simplify, but for the sake of brevity, let's call this group "the pessimists".

Let's take a small detour and state the facts (as of Oct 24th):

Good Omens season 3 had been announced as 6 episodes, roughly 45min each.

(Credible) Sexual assault allegations against Neil Gaiman (NG) -- the head writer and producer -- had been made public.

Good Omens season 3 production had been "paused".

Plenty of rumors about a cancellation, lots of radio silence and finally a few days ago strategic leaks from people actually involved in the production that there might be a chance.

Amazon confirmed (today) that season 3 is going forward, without NG on the production team. The format is now one 90min episode/film/feature.

Now, people's reactions to this reveal have been mixed, very understandable, I also have very mixed feelings about this. So far so normal. From my perspective, the difference (and this is the part that is applicable to life in general, not just Good Omens S3) is which side of the "mixed" feelings wins out.

Reactions I've observed in the "pessimist" group: - Outrage that a company associated with NG is in any way legally involved. - "It is now all ruined". - "One episode can never be enough, we need MORE". - "F*ck this". - "This will be horrible". - "I don't want a film". - People outright demanding to get 6 episodes. - "I am literally crying here, my life sucks so bad".

Now, for contrast and for the sake of clarity, I'll call the other group "optimists": - "omg, I am so glad we will get closure". - "90 minutes is basically 2 full episodes". - "I trust Michael and David to make it work". - "I am so grateful to all the people behind the scenes that fought so hard to make this happen". - "The people working on the production are as dedicated fans as we are, they will make it work". - "Other awesome pieces of media are even less than 90 minutes".

To sum up my reaction to these and quote someone I reblogged earlier today (@paperpoetryandpetrichor), what did you think would happen?!

Feelings of disappointment are 100% to be expected, every fan wants as much high quality content as possible. All feelings are valid, but some are (imo) clearly healthier and more productive than others.

I am also sad that we'll "only" get the equivalent of two episodes instead of six. But you know what would have been way sad-er? Zero episodes. Or if they had kept NG involved (Amazon could have simply tried to ignore all this, as TV producers have in the past). There is an infinite plethora of other outcomes that would have been so much worse.

I for one choose to see the positive sides. We will get closure. NG not on production team. Both Michael and David on board (which, as we've also learned today was not a given, everybody had been released from their contracts!). And speaking of Michael and David, they know how much we all love this show -- and they do as well --, they know how much we love Aziraphale and Crowley. I trust that they will fight tooth and nails to make this the absolute best version it can be.

So yeah, what about the overall lesson I draw from this and from the two groups?

I believe that people who are able to focus their energy on the positive aspects of anything really live much happier lives. The same set of facts spark two totally opposite directions of thoughts. We all start out with "oh. I don't know how I feel about this new piece of information?" but where we go from there is totally up to us. For me, the greatest driver of happiness is contentment. Be happy with what you have. You can always want more, because it is important to have aspirations and goals and places/versions of yourself you want to be. But focussing only on what you do not have will just make you unhappy, on top of the not-having.

Breathe. Most everything has a bright side to it, if you focus on that you'll be way better off. The world is not fair and likely never will be, but letting that stop you from enjoying the things in it that are good and bright and joyful only makes you feel worse. Fight to make the world fairer and a better place for everybody. But stop every now and then to smell a flower (or re-watch your favourite series) on the way to remind yourself what you are fighting so hard for.

"To the world."

I want to round this out with a quote from the Good Omens novel:

Because, underneath it all, Crowley was an optimist.

If you want your life to be a South Downs cottage, be like Crowley.

[youryurigoddess]

Aziraphale’s wine

It is a truth universally acknowledged in the Good Omens fandom that an angel in need of a drink turns to his secret stash of Châteauneuf-du-Pape in the back room. He picked up a dozen cases in 1921, and a whole century later there's still some left… for special occasions.

Just to put things in perspective, a standard case contains 12 750ml bottles, for a total of 9 liters of wine. A dozen cases equals 144 bottles, or 108 liters of wine. That’s quite a lot for a single purchase, so Aziraphale — the established sherry and sweet drinks connoisseur — must have had a good reason for it.

One potential explanation is the aura of grandeur around this particular wine. The papal connection, rich history of the region, and recognition of high quality products give Châteauneuf-du-Pape wines a very luxurious status, considerably influencing their price tags. And Aziraphale is known to have standards.

Another one is the way in which their taste differs from Aziraphale’s usual choices: Châteauneuf-du-Pape reds are often described as earthy with gamey flavors that have hints of tar and leather. The wines are considered tough and tannic in their youth, but maintain their rich spiciness as they age.

Since everything in Good Omens has a meaning, it never hurts to run through a quick Strong’s Concordance search whenever a date pops up in a dialogue or, even more importantly, somewhere on screen. More often than not the result seems to match the researched topic, as it’s the case here:

1921: to know exactly, to recognize.

Provided examples: I come to know by directing my attention to him or it, I perceive, discern, recognize; I found out. The general usage of the word usually refers to knowing someone aptly, properly, thoroughly, even biblically. Which might be either a wishful thinking on Aziraphale’s part or just another layer of subtext in this already romantically charged scene. The table dressing, multiple candles, and focus on the lamps with Auguste Moreau’s Young Lovers statues in the background seem to successfully communicate what the angel left unsaid.

Too bad that Crowley remained so adorably oblivious for the next eighty years. At least when he finally came to the realization, he responded with an attempted temptation to another vintage red wine @vidavalor already analyzed.

But back to Aziraphale’s wine. To be exact, it’s a 1921 Châteauneuf-du-Pape from the domaine de Baban. An actual French vineyard from the Rhône region that still exists to this day, even though a few decades ago it got merged with another estate into what is now known as domaine Riché-Baban. According to the local guides, the 11 hectares on the estate are located in the Châteauneuf-du-Pape designation area in the Bois Lauzon and Mourre de Baud districts. At the moment 90% of the wines produced there are sent to wine dealers.

1920s were quite an interesting time for this region, but not because of the flapper cabarets or drag shows usually associated with the era on the Old Continent. To the horror of European oenophiles, right after World War I the whole of France found itself awash with fake wine. One of the worst outrages was the use of lead that magically transformed cheap, acid wine into something deceptively rich and sweet on the outside and one of the most powerful neurotoxins on the inside. People were already well aware of its effects — the poisoning from drinking sweetened wine probably made Handel go blind and Beethoven go deaf, but it shows how desperate for sweetness they were before sugar became available to the masses.

Admittably, it wasn’t a new practice. Far from it — the Romans liked it so much that they even advised to pack lead pans on travels to boil local wine in them to make it sweeter, especially in colder provinces like Britannia. But Aziraphale didn’t buy twelve cases of counterfeit wine for the sake of some good memories of Rome and its many health hazards. No, the fussy angel made sure to get the actually good stuff from the other side of the English Channel.

Henry Tacussel, whose name is mentioned on his wine label, was a French viticulturalist and a close friend of Baron Pierre Le Roy of the Chateau Fortia nearby, a trained lawyer and fellow winegrower from Châteauneuf-du-Pape who established the Winegrowers' Union of the Rhône Valley. Together with the Baron he became one of the founders of Appellation d'origine contrôlée (AOC), a labeling system intended to protect regional products and technologies that is still in use in France and serves as an inspiration to similar solutions worldwide. Their efforts were deliberately centred on Châteauneuf-du-Pape because with such a beguiling name even in comparison to other labels it seemed to attract an undue share of fraudsters at the time.

Soon after Aziraphale’s shopping spree, the local wine producers led by Le Roy and Tacussel began a very long campaign to establish legal protection for the wine from their commune. The delimited area and the method of wine production were finally awarded legal recognition after a decade, in 1933, but it wasn’t the end of the criminal activities on this front. An undercover investigation by The Sunday Times discovered that most of the “Châteauneuf” in the 1960s Britain was actually blended and bottled in Ipswich.

One question remains: was it a purely human affair, or maybe one requiring a demonic or angelic intervention?

[randomshyperson]

What They Will Say About Us - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: A love from the past returns, and Wanda gets a second chance to make it right. But some decisions are easier in their concepts than in reality.

Warnings: milf!Wanda angst hours, implied internalized homophobia, hidden making out, attempts to Judaism references, and mentions of past relationships. | Words: 1.727k

A/N-> I blame the movie Disobedience and the song of the title name (by FINNEAS) for this one.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

--//--

It was such a risky idea, honestly.

Wanda had no reason to be in the Synagogue this afternoon, other than her personal motivations of course, which came down to an old friend in town. 

The black sheep returns, she heard, from a good dozen people. It made her stomach turn. Wanda wishes she could have summoned the same courage as you, years before, and left everything behind. Fought her own father like you did and had the minimum of happiness like she imagines you found in New York.

Or at least, Wanda likes to believe so. When she thinks of your adolescents, stolen moments here and there, and how you left without hesitation, she must believe that what was out there was better. It made you happier, at least.

The Synagogue was crowded and it was too risky to look around that much. Wanda felt watched from all sides - whether it was Pietro and Crystal, or Erik and Natalya, she had the impression that all eyes were on her. As if everyone knew how much she wanted to stare at you.

Your presence there was noticed very easily and commented on by everyone. The choice of black clothes, the outrageous jeans for the traditional community, every strand of rebelliously messy hair. 

Everyone looked at you as if you were a crime against everything the faith stood for, but Wanda looked at you as if you were a masterpiece.

The small sarcastic smile as you mumbled Hebrew as you entered, the almost non-existent nod before ignoring your sister's simple request to take the seat next to her and avoid any commotion, your determined steps to the small group standing around having a conversation.

Every inch diminished between you two made Wanda's heart skip a beat.

"Shalom Adonai." You greeted, interrupting whatever conversation was going on between Wanda's family. She tried to disguise how much she was begging for your attention, but you caught every stolen glance, the smile at the corner of her lips getting harder to hide and bringing a warmth underneath her own dress. 

You were embraced by Natalya, tenderly, around the neck. She had always liked you, Wanda remembered. 

"Shalom Adonai, Y/N. It's so good to see you home, child." Said the woman so warmly that you almost felt bad for the lack of manners you were about to present.

"Yes, yes, it is good to be back. Would you guys mind if I talked to Wanda for a second?"

She knew she was blushing, and that it only made her father's disgusted expression worse. But something about the punk-rock attitude made them assume that you might cause a scene if you were denied, and Erik just nodded in agreement. 

You offered Wanda a smile, invading her personal space only to go around her, grabbing her hand in the process. 

She followed you through the halls to an empty room, as she would have followed you to New York if you repeated the invitation.

"Why are you being so shy and quiet?” Your question came on the way, hand in hand with her, when you turned your head for a moment. A tease followed before Wanda could answer. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

She chuckled through her nose, indignant at something so absurd. She had been happy to the point of barely sleeping properly for the past few days since the news that you were in town reached her house, and she longed for a visit that never happened. It was foolish to think that you would come to their parent's home, not when you were revisiting family after so long. But at least in the Synagogue, Wanda found you. Or the other way around.

You stopped walking in a dimly lit room, at the exit of a staircase that no one would pass after the meeting had begun. It was a cramped space that the younger ones used to hide from chores, that you, Wanda, and Pietro had used many times as teenagers.

You challenged her then. You loosened her hand to rummage in your pockets and took out a lighter and a different cigarette, wrapped in silk. It was only to elicit a reaction from the woman in front of you, who widened her eyes as if you were the devil itself and grabbed your hands.

"You can't-"

"I'm just messing with you, Princess." You retorted with an easy smile, shoving the items back into your pocket, and to the end of the other's sanity, your hands moved to hers again before Wanda could pull away completely. "You haven't changed a bit."

Her shaky breath tickled your cheek. 

"You did." She murmurs affectedly, looking at everything but your face, and mostly at your hands together. Your fingers playing with hers. "You cut your hair, and your clothes...it suits you."

You hum distractedly, Wanda has no idea it's because of her perfume. So many years, and she messes with you the same way. Licking your lips, you try to bring clarity to your own thoughts.

"I heard you were getting married." You state then, and Wanda has to look at you, frowning.

"What? How-? I-I-"

You chuckle, taking in every trace of the face you missed so much. "Your mother invited me to the engagement feast." You explain casually. "I dismissed an event, so imagine my surprise when I heard you dumped the guy's ass..."

Wanda bit back a smile, she shouldn't laugh at this. At the shame she had put her family through; the most rebellious act of her entire life, dismissing a rich, Jewish, and proper fiancé. Chosen by god and her parents.

"Sorry for the inconvenience in your schedule." She returns, teasing, her eyes sparkling the way they only get around you.

You smile, interlacing your fingers together and bringing an immediate wave of nervousness to the woman in front of you. The gentle tug lessened the distance.

"I just got through packing up and ran over here." You murmur then, a very sincere and vulnerable look in your eyes suddenly.

Wanda swallows dryly, her heart hammering. "Oh, really?"

Your smile didn't falter, but your eyes did. "Do you remember... what I told you when I left?"

Wanda could hear her heart in her ears. She nodded, and you moved her hands to your waist. She gasped, overwhelmed with the longing for you, with the love she had kept for so many years. Her burning face was hidden in your collarbone, and you chuckled, equally affected, you slipped your arms around her to reassure her.

"I said I'd come back at any second if there was a risk of losing you to anyone, Wands." You whispered against her, even as she confirmed that she remembered. "And here I am. I hope not too late."

She shook her head frantically, drawing another laugh. You were tormenting her after all, how audacious. Wanda grimaced, and brushed her lips against your neck first, enjoying the flinch, before sinking her teeth in your skin.

You whimpered, low against her ear. Wanda licked the bite and sucked until she had a mark and you were soft against her, melting.

"Wanda." You called out, and she pulled away in the same second, only to firm her mouth on yours. 

It was exactly as she remembered it, but even better. You tasted like peppermint candy and coffee, and it was too delicious for Wanda not to squeeze your sides and push you against the wall. 

Your tongue slid into hers until her head spun and her knees buckled. The sermon began downstairs, and the music drowned out any gasping sounds that escaped her lips.

Wanda took advantage of it.

You were out of breath when you let go, and your hair seemed wilder than before. Your hands were dangerously beneath her blouse, gripping her waist directly by the skin. The strong squeeze would be enough to mark, and Wanda would have to be careful about changing clothes at home.

"Run away with me." You gasped suddenly, and Wanda stopped breathing. 

She had a flashback, so many years before, where you were much younger and much more insecure, and she was terrified. And you asked the same question and began to cry as Wanda shook her head in the negative. 

"Detka..." She started uncertainly, not with the same fears as years ago, but with the same cowardice. 

You had changed more than she had, and your eyes were as firm as your tone.

"I have an apartment and a job." You reasoned, your hands releasing her waist to hold her face. "All the stability and security I couldn't give you at 17, I have it now. I got it all so I could be with you, princess. Run away with me, Wanda. Please."

Her eyes burned. "My family would hate me." And you knew it was true, yet you still loved Wanda the same way you did when you were seventeen.

"I would be your family." You assure her, caressing her cheeks tenderly. "And we...we could make a family of our own, too."

Wanda sobbed softly, returning to her original position, her face hidden in your collarbone. You almost began to cry too, but you busied yourself with holding her, smoothing her hair until you had her definitive answer.

"It's a beautiful dream, detka." She whispers against your skin, her arms tightening around you. "The best one there is."

You kissed the top of her head. "Let me make it come true, Wands."

She sobs, and the music there and low ends. Wanda needs to stop crying before someone comes to check, so she does so quickly, wiping away the tears and almost hiding them from you. 

"Reality would tear us apart." She declares, but you deny it with a nod, offering her a sad smile before moving closer to kiss her forehead. Wanda almost tugs you away, but like years ago, she flinches.

You sigh and face her in the eyes. "I wish you would dare to love me as I love you, Wanda."

Her gaze begs for sympathy, but you can't give it to her now. You turn your back on her and leave her alone on the staircase, and it's as if Wanda can hear the memories echoing in that space.

Maybe one day, she will find the courage to follow you.

[thehardy-boys]

The Platform (Tommy Shelby x Reader)

Hey! Its literally been like forever but I've had some time to myself and actually written something. This was not requested or anything but I just got inspired with all the new content recently. Anyways, pls enjoy. It's a series so there will be more parts to the story.

Warnings: Sadness, negative thoughts, flirting if you squint (In the future -- smut 😏)

Part 1

(y/n) hadn’t planned on ever coming back.

“I’ll put your tea here then mum. Alright?” (y/n) spoke fairly loudly so the elderly woman could hear. She was nearing eighty and she had lost most of her sight and hearing. She was a ghost nearing on a corpse. But there was no one else to look after her. As these kinds of responsibilities usually fall on the women, the daughters, they fell on (y/n) just the same.  

“I’m heading to work. Mrs. Iona will check in on you from time to time, alright?” The bedroom door was almost closed when she heard the slight mumble coming from the shriveled woman.

“Not supposed to be here. Don’t want her here. Take her away.”

She paused only for a moment suddenly hit with a wave of the past. The tide so strong it almost pulled her into its murky depths. But with the door closed and the sight of her mother taken away (y/n) turned her back and softly made her way out of her mother’s house.

She waved to Mrs. Iona as she shut the front gate and walked back down the street towards the main road. Her shoes already collecting the terrible coal dust.

She hated it here. The heavy air that the sunlight could never quite penetrate which resulted in the town being in a constant gloom. It made her skin crawl. The unhappiness was crippling. The drunkards already stumbling around the street at eleven o’clock in the morning, the starving children running back and forth, the haggard mothers one step closer to the grave and the dark alleys that were haunted with glistening knives, illegal pistols, and razor-sharp caps.

Get me out of here. Get me out of here. (y/n) screamed internally but she only pushed open the heavy wooden door of the newspaper agency and kindly greeted Mrs. Kelley the receptionist before making her way to the back of the building and sitting down at her desk. Another day. More editing. That was her lot in life: never to be the one writing and creating but only a ghost in the machine, a minion behind the scenes.

By the end of every long day at the newspaper house the words would blur into one huge muddle. She’d pack up her small bag, wish a good night to her boss Mr. Beavers, and head home. Her eyes would be sore and her brain throbbing with a headache. But that was just Small Heath, barely living.

(y/n) felt that she had something missing. She knew she had it when she was younger because of all her memories. The vibrancy of the trees she climbed, the scent of baking in the kitchen, the damp fur of their pet dogs after a rain storm. Everything was so vivid back then and full. Her eyes open and wanting, now she was shuttered, fragile, and tired. Her knees often ached and her neck sore from hunching over papers all day. She was decaying, slowly.

“(y/n)!” Her head popped up from her desk at the sound of her name. Polly Gray was making her way towards her. She was as formidable as (y/n) remembered. She rose up to return Polly’s hug.

“Mrs. Gray, It’s so nice to see you!” Polly squeezed a bit tighter. The warmth of her body rubbing off onto (y/n). She welcomed it. It had been so long since she had received any kind of touch.

“When the hell did you get back?”

“About a year now.”

“A year!? A whole year and you didn’t bother to drop me a line?” Her outrage wore the mask of humor but (y/n) could tell there was genuine worry, genuine hurt lurking behind it.

(y/n) shook her head in apology, “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to come back here and then a lot happened and I’ve just been so busy Mrs. Gray. I’m really sorry.”

“No, I know (y/n). I heard what happened. Awful stuff. I had no idea you were here dealing with it all. You should have asked for help.”

(y/n) began to shake her head and ward off Polly’s offer when her boss’s door opened up behind her.

“Ah, Mrs. Gray and Mr. Shelby do come in.” He gestured warmly into his office.

Polly rubbed her arm before stepping inside.

A tall man had been standing behind Polly. (y/n) hadn’t noticed him in the frenzy of the greeting but she didn’t need an introduction. Nobody in Small Heath did. He was just as the ladies described him at the grocers she went to weekly: cold, inscrutable, foreboding, and dangerous.  

(y/n) had lived in Small Heath only until she had turned thirteen and then her family had moved away. Her father had been close to Polly and consequently (y/n), over the years, had played with the young Shelby brothers. (y/n)’s older brother had gotten along well with Arthur and if she concentrated hard enough, she could remember playing hide and seek with Thomas and John Shelby. But it was all so long ago, and she realized she hadn’t seen any of them in over fifteen years. And yet she knew it was Thomas. She knew.

She wondered mildly if he remembered her, “(y/n) (l/n).” That was all he said with a quick nod he passed her by not glancing back and nor did she.

Polly left first and, on her way, reminded (y/n) to drop by. An hour or so later Thomas came out, as well. (y/n) was neck deep in the upcoming Sunday issue so she barely registered the figure standing next to her desk.

“Oh, Mr. Shelby! Did Mr. Beavers ask me to get you any forms?” She pushed away her paper hurriedly and stood up.

He shook his head slowly and continued to stare at her, hands deep in his pockets.

She tilted her head as a question, and he only shrugged slightly.

“I was trying to remember why you left, all those years ago.”

(y/n) sat back down. A flicker of fear coursed through her at the reminder of their family’s departure. A broken window, her father’s bruised face, and her mother’s hands constantly trembling.

“It wasn’t my decision; it was my parents.” She didn’t look up at him and instead pulled her papers back towards her. She didn’t want to sift through all those years. She could barely make it through the present.

He must have sensed the finality because he bid her good day and left but his stare stayed with her all day and even into the night. The frostiness of the blue. The condemnation they held for humanity.

Mr. Beavers explained the next morning that they were starting a partnership with Shelby Limited. They would be expanding their sports column to include more articles on the races. Mr. Beavers excitedly described the hope for a few informative articles on the intricacies of horse racing, training, and breeding. But it wasn’t just about horses Mr. Beavers went on, being attached to Shelby Limited allowed them an easy avenue for new stories and information. It was a ready-made news source.

“All this in exchange for what?” (y/n) asked.

“We give Mr. Shelby’s races publicity and well…occasionally we would publish or not publish certain articles for the company.”

(y/n) crossed her arms, “So they can censor us? What stops them from completely taking over the paper? What if next week they decide they don’t want the Theatre column? Evan and Nate would be out of the job.”

Mr. Beavers frantically shook his head, “It’s not like that, not like that at all. I know Mrs. Gray and I trust her. The company is not interested in that kind of control. I mean we’re only a small agency, (y/n).”

And thus, the partnership began and now not just (y/n) felt the steely stare of Mr. Shelby, but the entirety of the agency did.

It started slowly but Thomas began to come by once or twice a week. It was usually on Tuesdays and Thursdays. (y/n) learned from Mr. Beavers that they were working on a contract. She would here the tell-tale sound of expensive shoes on the marble floor and know even without looking up who it was. Thomas Shelby walked with such authority in his three piece suits all the young ladies at the agency were already gossiping about him during their lunch breaks. But (y/n) kept her distance.

She had always been an outsider in Small Heath. The community never welcomed her family, something to do with their Jewish ties. And now, after returning, people were even more wary. (y/n) could tell there were whispers behind her back. She ignored the fake apologies about the missing invitation when she caught her colleagues out for a bite to eat all together. It didn’t bother her, not really.

“Mr. Shelby, Mr. Beavers will be right out. His previous meeting’s running a bit late. Please sit down if you’d like.” She gestured to the few arm chairs by the window. He only nodded and sat. He lit his cigarette and did what he always seemed to do around her, stare. And she ignored him in favor of the monumental stack of paperwork in front of her.

“How much do they pay you here?” He asked out of the blue. His deep voice easily cutting through her concentration.

She looked over, “Minimum wage.”

“For all that?” He raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

(y/n) shrugged.

“You edit, organize, design, and manage each issue and only get minimum wage?”

“I’m not in a position to be picky, Mr. Shelby.” She bristled a bit.

He took another drag and let the smoke column upwards. He did look beautiful with the sunlight streaming in behind him. It caught the contours of his angular face and she thought yeah, I think I get it now.

He cleared his throat and sat back satisfied her attention was now on him, “Don’t you remember me?”

“Yes. I mean we were just kids.” She shrugged lightly.

“We met on the platform.” He took another inhale of his smoke, “After the war.”

(y/n) blinked.

“Yes, we did.” Her throat had gone dry.

He opened his mouth to continue but “(y/n)! I need the consumer reports.” It was Evelyn from the market section. Her plump red lips perking up at the sight of Thomas. (y/n) had the feeling Evelyn already knew he would be here; the reports weren’t needed until the end of the day.

“Yes. Here they are.” (y/n) sifted through her desk and handed over the packet.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?” Evelyn asked. She played with a few loose strands of her hair.

“Oh. Uh-Mr. Shelby this is Ms. Lowe. Ms. Lowe, Mr. Shelby from Shelby Limited.”

“Ever so pleased to meet you, sir.” She placed a sneaky hand on her hip and shifted her weight a tad to conform her body into an elegant pose.

And she was attractive (y/n) had to admit. She was young and full of vigor. Her hair always done to perfection and makeup never smudged. She looked like a movie star. She looked like a woman all men would fall head over heels for. (y/n) inwardly cringed. She could only imagine what she must look like next to this creature of beauty.

But when (y/n) looked over to see Thomas’ reaction, he seemingly hadn’t stopped looking at her. Only when their eyes met did Thomas glance over at Evelyn and give a slight nod.

“Mr. Shelby! Please come in, come in! I do apologize about the delay!” Mr. Beavers rushed out and hurriedly greeted the businessman.

After the door closed Evelyn let out a huff. She handed back the packet to (y/n).

“I don’t even need these. I just wanted him to get a look if you know what I mean.”

(y/n) gave a small smile hoping to be rid of the superficial woman but she had one last request.

“Put in a few good words for me, will you? He always comes by your desk. Just drop in a few hints?”

(y/n) sighed and re-organized a few papers, “I’ll try my best Evelyn, but I can’t promise anything.”

A few hours later, Evelyn really did come and collect the consumer reports but lucky for her the office door opened and the two men appeared.

“And wonderful (y/n) here will get the correct form for you to sign Mr. Shelby. Let’s organize a convenient day for her to drop the upcoming issue down at your office weekly.”

Evelyn who was too quick easily swooped in without any hesitation, “I can help, Mr. Beavers. You know that I have a much more open schedule than (y/n). I’d be happy to deliver the issue.” She smiled blindingly.

(y/n) just sat there watching the whole thing unfold. In fact, she was actually grateful Evelyn was sticking her nose into it because she didn’t want to see more of Thomas than she already had these past few weeks.

“That is true, Mr. Beavers. Evelyn has a bit more time on her hands these days.”

The boss was beginning to make the face of agreement before, “I’d like Ms. (l/n) to be the one making the deliveries.”

And there was no room for argument with Mr. Shelby.

“Of course, whatever works best for Mr. Shelby. Let’s say every Thursday?” Mr. Beavers heartily clasped the man’s hand and then beckoned Evelyn into his office for a round up on the recent reports. (y/n) didn’t miss the venomous look the other woman shot her.

(y/n) opened her desk drawer and took out the mentioned form that needed the signature.

“Just here, Mr. Shelby.” She held out a pen for him without bothering to look up. This turned out to be a bad idea because she jumped in surprise as he partially leaned over her to sign the paper. He smelled of oak and whisky. He carried the scent of the past.

She remembered seeing his eyes in the sea of green uniforms on the platform. And she knew. She just knew. After all those years. She had walked towards him. He stood there waiting for her. His beautiful blue eyes. That beautiful face.

“(y/n) (l/n).” He had said her name then with such certainty like it was law. Like it had some kind of divine meaning and not just a jumble of letters.

“Is that all?” He asked setting the pen down.

She cleared her throat, “Yes.”

She expected him to be on his way, but she looked up when she never heard the retreating footsteps. He still stood next to her one hand on the back of her chair. Looking down at her.

“Did you not expect me to remember you?”

She clenched her jaw, “Why would I expect you to remember me?”

He furrowed his brow and walked away.

Part 2

[thewolvesof1998]

Hiiii Wolf 💕💕💕

Buck and Christopher are baking Christmas cookies!

-how many are they making?

-what kinds are they making?

-what do they end up doing with them all?

And anything you can think of to describe the scene!

Have fun with it!! ☺️

Hi Saturn 🪐 !!!

I'm going to use this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday!

Oh okay, so this sent me down a rabbit hole of sugar cookies and the types of frosting and now I'm going to have to bake some. So I had my first and only ever sugar cookie when I was in Ohio in March. It was sooooo fucking good and I'm pretty sure it was buttercream icing because it was so light and fluffy. I also love making white chocolate butter cream icing so I'm excited to make sugar cookies with it.

Anyways, your questions!

Buck and Chris are making Christmas cookies for Chris's class, maybe they're having a bake sale or maybe it's just to spread some holiday cheer, either way, they are making so many cookies, that the trays are spread out all over Eddie's kitchen. Here are Buck's inspiration photos (because of course he made a Pinterest board for it):

And just image him and Chris making all of these cookies:

And here's a snippet from Someone to be Gentle (which already had a cookie baking scene and I might have already posted most of this so if you've read this before no you haven't):

When Eddie walks in the front door of his house it's to the smell of freshly baked cookies and the sound of his kid cackling like he’s done something cheeky and he knows he’s going to get away with it because, as Buck says, ‘Look at that face, how could you be mad at him?’.  Eddie follows the sound, can hear the timber of Buck’s laugh join and harmonise until it’s a cacophony that feels like it’s rubbing aloe on his therapy raw soul. He rounds the corner into his living room and is standing in the door of his kitchen taking in the chaotic sense. There are trays, so many trays, of sugar cookies, half are iced in shades of green and white, the others laid bare. Chris still has his back to Eddie, head tilted back in laughter but Eddie can see Buck, can see the green icing smeared across his cheek and the fake look of outrage on his face that is betrayed by the laughter falling from his lips.  A far too familiar ache rips through his chest, his breath catches and eyes start to burn with tears that have become so common lately that he’s surprised they haven’t left permanent marks on his cheeks. He ducks away, not wanting his darkness to mar their happiness any more than it already has. He slumps down onto the couch, head already in his hands trying to push the tears back into his eyes as if that would erase the fact that they were ever there.  A hand lands on his shoulder, it stretches from scar to shoulder blade, “Eddie?” “I’m good, I’m fine,” He says without looking up, his voice all crackly with emotion. He senses more than sees Buck sit down opposite him, the coffee table creaking under his weight, Eddie always in tune with every movement Buck makes. His hand never breaks contact, the warmth and steadiness of his palm in sharp contrast to how Eddie’s shaking like a leaf.  “You know it’s okay if you're not fine,” Buck pauses as if he’s gathering his thoughts or courage, “You don’t always have to be strong with me, I’m not going to judge you or-or run away, Eddie.” Eddie shakes his head, “You don’t want this, it’s messy, I’m a mess,” as if to emphasise the point he wipes away snot with the edge of his sleeve.  “Of course I do, we’re partners,” Eddie’s eyes flicker up to Bucks, his edges are a blur because of the tears but his cheeks are flushed pink as they usually do when Buck’s on a passionate roll, “best friends, I-I want the bad as well as the good, I want to be there when you’re at your worst, let me have your back.” A sob tears out of his chest, it sounds an awful lot like Buck’s name. And he’s not sure if he’s folding forward or if Buck’s reeling him but his arms are around Eddie, holding him close to his chest and something snaps within him. His fingers twist into Buck’s shirt as he cries into his shoulder soaking the material with tears and snot in a way he hasn’t done since he was a little kid crying in his mother’s arms, before the ‘you have to be the man of the house’, before he learnt it was bad to show weakness. And he knows that's not true, been teaching his own son it’s not but it’s so much easier to be kind to others than it is yourself. 

The poem it's based on

first snippet second snippet

tagging people for Tease Tidbit Tuesday: @wikiangela @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz @disasterbuckdiaz @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @smilingbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @carrierofthepaperclips @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thosetwofirefighters @monsterrae1 @princehattric @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove

[the-daydreaming-show]

𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐬.

𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐔𝐬: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - Epilogue (you are there).

English is not my first language, please be patient.

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Like post credits scenes in movies, this epilogue is short, but I hope you like what it reveals. To all who are on the Tag List, I will use the same list for when I post things about this universe, if someone is there and does not want to know if I post any other ideas about this or updates let me know, and if anyone wants to be added please do not hesitate in asking. There's still a lot more of Batmom!ScarletWitch to see, so see you on the next adventure.

Sequel: 𝐒𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @some-lovely-day @simonsbluee @yuki-chan23 @miyakana @myst3batz @otchae @d3m0n8ch1ld @marsenbie @mynameisnotlaura @igotmessymind @andieperrie18 @randomboostsofmotivation @totallynotme420 @igotmessymind @amarawayne @calsjack

It was after midnight when you woke up with a cold sweat running down your back. Frightened, you quickly used your magic to check on your children: Dick was in his room, sleeping with his bags ready for his trip back to Blüdhaven the next day. You found it fascinating that, before you woke up, both Bruce and you, Alfred and Dick, were all asleep, which is the higher number of family members sleeping together in the mansion at the same time. And then there was Tim. You almost jumped in place when you noticed he wasn't in his room, then you felt his mind under the house.

“It's fine, I'm fine” you quickly assured, squeezing Bruces hand, who woke up instinctively “I freaked out for a second, but it's okay, go back to sleep” you assured him before leave the room.

Tim was in the bat-cave, sitting on the catwalk that was displaying the costumes of the three Robins that had ever existed, a steaming cup of straight coffee in his hand. But he hadn't touched it yet, which worried you when you appeared at his side. The boy showed no sign of acknowledging your presence, just staring straight ahead, staring blankly at a point behind Jason's tattered suit. He was still wearing the pants from the suit he'd worn to the funeral that afternoon, but with the pajama top and his robe.

You sat silently next to him on the cold metal of the platform, staring at the suit for a few seconds before looking back at your youngest son. Janet Drake's funeral had gone well until one of the woman's prestigious friends decided to comment that Tim's speech would surely be beautiful, wincing when your son told her he wouldn't do the part of her speech. The woman proceeded to make sure the whole room knew about it, as if it were some outrageous gossip about the neighbor's daughter. Most of the people in the room understood why, they weren't judgmental, and you saw it in their minds, but that didn't stop Tim's seething anxiety. That feeling consumed him at the end and on the way back home, then the boy had locked himself in his room for the rest of the day. He didn't cry, but he didn't talk at all, he hardly even made a sound to breathe for the rest of the day. Alfred cooked for him, and you made the tray of food appear on his nightstand, but you never got in. You gave him his space

“I was also at my own mother's funeral” you began to relate softly, seeing how your child processed that information in a second and turned to look at you in surprise, the first expression on his face since that afternoon. Curiosity winning as usual.

You didn't talk much about your origins, not even Bruce had much idea about your family life before the events that led you to travel through the multiverse until you reached the world that is now your home. It was a mysterious subject for your children. Being that you were such a wonderful mother in his eyes, the idea that you had seen your own mother die shattered the idea he had assumed of your childhood. You knew that, so you smiled sadly at him while you nodded slowly while you let him process what he said.

“She wasn't the best.” you continued to explain to him “When she was fifteen, my grandfather to whom she was very close died, and she ended up running away from the small town where she lived with my grandparents to the city. She disappeared and returned almost two years later, fresh out of rehab and pregnant. My grandmother was just happy to get her back and excited about the idea of a grandchild, so I arranged for him to stay there with her again, finish school and get a quick job to take care of me. But the thing is, my mom never liked the idea of staying in a small farming town, she dreamed of big cities. That was the reason she ran away in the first place, and when my grandmother tried to help her stay, she only got more scared. So once I was born, she went away again, leaving me with my grandmother.” Tim blinked in surprise, his head processing the reality that you had lived through, setting the coffee cup aside, “She ended up going back to drugs, having no support system outside my grandmother. She appeared every once in a while, I have memories of her visiting me and I knew she was my mother. But she was never my mother in the way that other people see a mother, what a mother supposed to be was fulfilled by my grandmother. She took care of me and raised me. Mom died of an overdose when I was six” you looked again at the suit in front of both of you.

“How did it go?” Tim asked, genuinely curious how you had handled the situation and eager to get some guidance on how to move forward, those were the first words he had said since the funeral. 

“It was weird, at the moment I remember crying inconsolably and not knowing why. The woman was almost a stranger to me, but she was my mom, even if she didn't fulfill the role” you looked at him sympathetically “Later I understood that sometimes mourning a loss isn't about the sorrow for what you had, Timmy.” you stroked his hair, arranging it on his head, and the boy lowered his head. “But about what you didn't have.” 

After that, it only took a few seconds before the hold broke and Tim began to cry, his shoulders shaking as you pulled him close to your chest.

"She was your mom" you whispered affectionately.

“You're my mom,” Tim replied between sobs “It's not fair.” He burrowed deeper into your chest, tightening his arms around you as if afraid you'd run away soon.

No, it wasn't fair that a boy as wonderful as Tim had been born to parents who didn't take the time to notice his greatness. Janet and Jack didn't notice when he disappeared almost every night when he was out on patrol with your husband. They didn't appreciate that their neglect didn't lead him in a wrong pat, but it made him want to do better. As if he wasn't just a kid. They didn't care how mature his little baby was, they didn't care that his child wasn't a child, but a mini adult. It wasn't fair at all.

“I know, I know, my love” you pat his back while hugging him, trying not to curse the dead because you knew they felt it. “But it's okay to feel it, even when you don't know what you feel, because at the end of the day there was something there even when it was hard. It only remains to let it go“

Tim cried for a long time, he ended up with his head resting on your lap snoring softly, and you didn't have the heart to wake him up, looking at him fascinated by how calm he looked. Eventually, your own head fell back against the platform railing, and you fell fitfully to sleep. 

MOM. MOM, HELP ME. MOM. MOM, GET ME OUT OF HERE. MOM.

You woke up suddenly, covered in a cold sweat. You've had the same dream for a while now, Jason's voice screaming for your help, but you knew it wasn't real. Don't make that mistake again. You looked at you and used your magic to take him to bed-

MOM, HELP ME. MOM.

It wasn't real. It wasn't real. It wasn't-

MOM.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: I want to thank all of you who read this story. The story of the loss of Batmom coincided with a time of mourning in my personal life, it has helped me to continue with everything despite the pain, to process it and to move on. You with your interactions and comments have helped me to continue as well, even when it takes me a long time to update because of the university, for which I apologized and I thank you a thousand times more. Finally, I hope that if anyone has suffered a recent loss and feels like ScarletWitch!Batmom and I have felt throughout this story, know that you can do it and I hope this story will at least give you the ease to distract yourself a little for a moment, while you keep resisting.

With love, Ella.

[areislol]

do not worry, for you have me.

neteyam, lo’ak, tsu'tey x omaticayan/metkayina! reader

ft— neteyam, lo’ak, tsu'tey, ao’nung(irrelevant) warnings— brief mentions of blood, gn! reader, established relationship, teasing, name calling, jake is mentioned a few times. i have no idea how to write fighting scenes. a/n— i’ve always had the idea of hybrid! reader, so here it is! ♡ also send in some more requests im loving these ideas sm!! tsu’tey doesn’t have any fighting scenes but it has a whole bunch of comforting. oh, and smut fic coming idk but it’s there :)) synopsis— being half omaticaya(n) and metkayina(n) means a lot of staring and ill-treatment, but what is there to worry, when you have them.

your parents were both in different clans, your mother was from the metkayina clan while your father was in the omaticaya clan.

although they were in different clans, that didn’t stop them from falling in love, forbidden love if you can call it that.

shortly after falling in love and dating they had you, y/n.

throughout your life you’ve been the centre of attention, both good and bad, everybody who came in contact with you always stared at you, but you don’t blame them, it’s not everyday you see a na’vi whose parents come from different clans.

you’d think that they’d be in awe but you’re wrong, they sort of.. despised you, thought of you as weird. your features were different, your eye color was a mixture of blue and yellow, you had enlarged doe eyes like the metkayina, your skin color was a mixture between aqua and dark blue, you had a combination of the omaticaya and metkayina marking on your body.

you were thin just like the omaticaya but strong and perfect in the water, knowing how to breath correctly under water.

you were truly breathtaking. but nobody wanted to believe that.

how could two people from different clans mate? it was outrageous to them.

they always stared at you, their gaze was always on you. it always made you feel nervous, you hated it.

good thing is that they never called you names or teased you, only ever staring at you, but that all changed once you moved with your mate to the metkayina clan, your mothers clan.

and as usual, everybody's eye was on you.

but ever since you arrived there there was a particular group that would harass you for your looks, your background. they would tease you, call you names, pull your hair and touch your features without asking you, it infuriated you.

but their constant teasing would come to an end once your mate “came to the rescue” (what they said) and fought them or told them to “back off or else serious consequences will happen” which was normally them fighting the group and them winning even though it was a 1-4.

today was no different.

you were mindlessly drawing hearts in the sand, minding your business when you heard (multiple) footsteps coming behind you, you recognize them. it was the foot steps of ao’nung and his group.

you stop drawing for a second, scared.

“hey halfie! what are you doing?” one of the boys shouted, “pfft- they’re probably doing something dumb!” a girl shouted, going around to see what you were doing, once they saw the hearts drawn on the sand she held back her laughter.

“this loser was drawing hearts on the sand!” once she pointed out what you were doing the group started to snicker, covering their mouths to gossip.

ao’nung scoffs when you don’t talk, “why aren’t you talking?” no reply. with your fists clenching you get up and start to walk away, not wanting to make a scene.

ao’nung stares at you in disbelief, looking back at his group he nods his head to the direction where you were and they all ran up to you, hearing their footsteps you quicken your pace, but it was no use as your hair suddenly gets yanked by ao’nung.

falling down you winced, face scrunching up. rubbing your head the group surrounds you

“just leave me alone!” you cry out, tears threatening to fall, eyes glistening when you get an answer, “why should we? you’re easy to pick on, you’re special.” ao’nung states bluntly.

before they could pick on you any further they heard someone yell out your name, turning around they see them, you looked to the direction where you heard your name, seeing someone running furiously where you and the group were.

before they knew it your mate was standing right in front of them, getting in their face, chest heaving up and down.

“leave them alone.” they said in a dark and commanding voice.

their eyes switched between you and the group, “what if i don’t? what will you do, huh?” ao’nung says teasingly, looking left and right to his group to which they nod.

“this.”

neteyam x omaticaya/metkayina! reader

Lunging at ao’nung, he lifts his leg up, knee hitting ao’nung’s stomach, ao’nung hands grabbed onto neteyam shoulder, throwing him aside where he falls to the floor, your eyes widen as you saw the other members walk up to where neteyam laid, you get up and start to run over to where neteyam was but stopped when he stood up, clutching his head. Neteyam hissed, his tail swaying vigorously and he bared his fangs, ao’nung hissed before running towards neteyam, pushing him to the ground, he started to punch neteyam, only hitting him on the face a couple of times before neteyam caught his hands mid punch, you could see his face bruised, blood coming out of his nose. Hissing, neteyam punched ao’nung in the stomach, making ao’nung fall back just enough for him to sit up and get up. You started to panic when you saw the other members surrounding neteyam, this time you did not stop running after he threw punches to the other members, you jumped on the other members that neteyam did not punch yet, when they fell down you hissed and kept your body on them, you grabbed both of their wrists and held them up high to make sure they didn’t try anything funny. It was the least you could do anyways, neteyam already had multiple people down groaning, clutching their stomachs. ”Let me go!” they yelled, thrashing around trying to get free, you tugged on his arms that were still up high, making them groan, “how about.. no?” you say, a smile creeping on your face. While you held them down you don’t realize ao’nung creeping up behind you, a scowl on his face, neteyam was finished with the last of the group when he looked at you, his eyes widen in fear, he ran as fast as he could but to no avail. Ao’nung had jumped on you and tackled you to the floor, rolling before stopping, you groaned in pain, before he could punch you, you felt a rush of adrenaline throughout your body, staring up at ao’nung who was glaring at you, fist in the air you lifted up your knee and hit him where it hurts and once you did he rolled off of you, whining in pain as he clutched his part, neteyam’s face went from being worried about you to being proud, he was grinning ear to ear. Neteyam ran to you, holding both of your arms, eyeing you up and down to make sure you were okay. Luckily you only got a couple of scratches and bruises on your legs but no blood to which neteyam sighed at. While he’s inspecting you, you were doing the same to him, you noticed how he had scratches and bruises on his arm and legs and a few small bruises on his lip, blood was trickling down his nose, neteyam smiled weakly at you when he sees you staring at his nose. You suddenly reach into your satchel, retrieving a small cloth, placing it on his nose before wiping the blood away, your brows furrowed in concentration, lips pouting, god you looked so pretty right now.. and also when you held that boy down. Upon realizing how close you were to neteyam and how.. intimate this interaction felt you cleared your throat, “t-there was just blood.. on your nose.” you state, averting eye contact. Neteyam gave you a nod before asking if you were okay, “yea im fine, legs hurt though.” you reply, looking down at your legs. Looking up a neteyam he was already staring at you, you noticed how his expression changed, his brows furrowed as if something was on his mind, he was staring at you, staring into your eyes deeply. You were about to ask if he was okay when he cut you off with his own question, “why were they there with you? were they picking on you?” You looked away when you heard the last sentence, which gave away your answer. Your eyes were downcast, you were pouting. Neteyam sighed, catching your attention, you looked up at him with your doe eyes, his eyes catch yours and he looks away, panic was written all over his face.   ”Gee you look horrible” you laugh to ease the awkward tension you two had, “and you look gorgeous.” he looked and sounded dead serious, you were caught off guard with his comment, and what neteyam said was true, even though your hair was sticking to your face, sand on your arms, legs and on your cheeks, you looked completely flawless, breathtaking in the sunlight. Neteyam could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat when he looked at you. Before you two could talk more you two heard a groan, “i’ll be telling my parents about this! just watch!” ao’nung says, running away to the village, you and neteyam looked at each other before shrugging, laughing. You and neteyam decide to go to kiri who always had some medicine in her satchel, leaving the others behind as they rolled on their backs, groaning and moaning. Walking to the village meant that the people would be staring at you two, since you two were bruised and looked like they’ve been in a fight (you did) and would be looking at you, again. You’ve been at the village for a few weeks now but nobody seems to get their gaze off of you, the children stared at you, the parents were interested in you but also scowled at you when the other parents whispered something in their ear. Neteyam noticed your silence, turning to face you he nudges you lightly which prompted you to look back at him, “are you alright?” neteyam asks, worry filling his voice as he grabbed your hands, squeezing your hand softly if he needed to, to make sure that you were looking at him. When you don’t respond he sighs, he didn’t want to pry into your and his business so he reluctantly stops asking you questions. ”They were teasing me. I was minding my own business and they just.. came.” when you finished your sentence you felt neteyam’s grip on your hand tighten, you looked down at your hands, realizing that he still held your hand, but you didn’t want him to let go so you didn’t say anything about it. Your heart was beating 100 times faster, a red hue appearing on your cheek, thinking about how you two are literally holding hands. Neteyam on the other hand was thinking about murdering ao’nung and his friends, mainly ao’nung though. Thinking about how he was going to creep into their marui and- wait, are you holding his hand? He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels something tighten their hold on his hand, that’s when he looks down and sees your hand intertwined with his and right there and then he explodes (inside), letting out a small and quiet “eek!” that you caught, but not from him, you thought that maybe it was a insect beside you. You were looking around for the supposed insect but found nothing so you look forward and resume walking. “You know y/n, you can always tell me anything that’s on your mind, whatever you’re feeling or thinking, you can always come to me.” neteyam says, breaking the silence. You look at him, giving him a small and beautiful smile. “Okay.” You and neteyam finally reached the village and immediately after tuk notices you two she runs over, but stops in her tracks once she sees neteyam littered with bruises nearly all over him and you with a few scratches and bruises on your legs, she runs even faster to you two and hugged both your and neteyam’s leg, “what happened?!” she exclaimed, looking up at you and neteyam, her eyes glistened. ”Tuk! what are you-” kiri asks, looking at her hugging both your and neteyam’s leg, she’s confused for a second but upon seeing how both of you looked hurt she quickly rushed over and helped you two to her marui. You and neteyam sat down and let kiri scold you two for doing whatever that made you two get hurt before bandaging and putting some herbs on the bruises and scratches, giving you and neteyam some pain killers and some water. ”What were you two doing?” kiri asks, giving you some water, before you could answer, neteyam answers for you, “ao’nung and his friends ganged up on y/n, so i helped them.” he states angrily, his ears tucked downwards. Kiri gives you a look, raising her eyebrows, you sigh and nod, agreeing with neteyam. Kiri gives you a sad look on her face, “you did the right thing neteyam, they wouldn’t have gone down without a fight anyway.” kiri says with a smirk on her face. You and neteyam stay there and talk until jake storms into the room, absolutely furious. ”Neteyam! what were you thinking, huh? you can’t go beating people up randomly, same goes for you y/n.” jake said in a dark tone, his jaw clenched, glaring at you and neteyam, but his expressions change upon seeing you and neteyam bruised and scratches littered on both your and neteyam’s arm, legs and faces. He immediately rushed to neteyam, holding his arm before glancing at you, he did not know what to make of this, many questions in his mind, but the main was, how did you two end up like this? Neteyam gestured jake to sit down beside you and he does so, his eyes both on you and neteyam, he scans you up and down, his mouth agape from what he’s seeing, “what.. what happened?” jake asks, placing his arm on your shoulder, you looked down at your feet, trying to avoid the question at first, “ao’nung was teasing y/n, harassing them so i, hit them.” neteyam states with no hesitation, he wanted everybody to know what happened to his y/n. Jake listened intently, his brows furrowed in anger and confusion. His hand clenching your shoulder tightly making you wince. He looked down at his feet as well before looking back up at neteyam, “listen neteyam, i can understand why you did that but you don’t go hitting people first,” he says before getting cut off by neteyam, “i asked them to leave them alone! they didn’t. I did what i had to.”, jake noticed how his fists clenched. After explaining everything jake scolded neteyam for fighting anyways, sighing, he turns to kiri who was listening to everything, “how are they doing?”, “okay other than some bruises obviously, it’ll take only a few weeks or maybe a month for it to heal.” jake sighs again, face palming before getting up and starts to head out the marui. Before he could really leave the premises neteyam got up and rushed over to his head, grabbing his arm jake turned around looking at neteyam who had a stern look on his face, “do something about this, please. You know how hard y/n’s life is, you know, because of their background and looks.” his voice cracking when he mentioned your name, even though this was about you, you’re his mate. It pained him to see how being different affected your life, how you were teased relentlessly, being called names, everything you had gone through made his heart pang. Jake stares at neteyam who was still holding onto his arm, jake glances at you who laid on the bed and had a hand over your forehead, the image of his son and his mate being bruised pained him, looking back at neteyam he reluctantly nods, placing his hand on his arm, “i’ll see what i can do.” and with that he pulls his dad in a hug with a smile on his face, “thanks, dad” he whispers, pulling back and running back to where laid. bonus!! Jake walks over to ronal’s and tonowari’s marui, peeking through he looks for the two, once he spots them he whistles, catching their attention. “Where is ao’nung? i need to talk to him, in private.” jake asks with a “friendly” smile on his face, ronal and tonowari exchange glances before agreeing to tell you, it was the least they could do, the point to his right where another marui was. Jake thanked them and walked over to ao’nung was. “Hey, boy.”, ao’nung whips his head around to see jake standing there, he stood up immediately, he shivered. Was is in fear? Jake clears his throat, “Listen,” he starts, moving closer and closer to where ao’nung stood, each step he took sent ao’nung stepping backwards in fear. Once he was in his face (but more up?) he spoke again, “if you and your friends ever lay your nasty fingers on my family and y/n, you’ll never see the light of the day. If you have a problem you can speak to me right now or whenever. Understood?” Ao’nung nodded which made jake’s dark expression change into something more.. friendlier than what ao’nung had endured. Slapping his head he tsks and walks away, leaving ao’nung stunned and scared. He would never dare to lay his hands on you.

lo’ak x omaticaya/metkayina! reader

Lo’ak pushed ao’nung chest resulting in ao’nung toppling back, once he regained his balance he ran up to lo’ak who looked unfazed, when he was about to land a punch on lo’ak’s face he swiftly avoids the punch. Ao’nung has a look of fear in his eyes as he realizes that he’s about to fall, his fist still in the air. Lo’ak watches as ao’nung falls to the ground, his face hitting the sand making him huff. He laughs before staring at you who’s still on the floor, you stare up at him with a small smile on your face. Then you hear a grunt coming from beside you, looking up you see one of ao’nung’s friends, he runs and lunges to lo’ak who was slow to respond to the sudden attack, since he was focusing on you, he and the boy tumbles down the sand, once they stop lo’ak is quick to use his strength to push the much, weaker, boy off of him. Getting up you see ao’nung also standing up, he nods to his friends where lo’ak and the boy fought, you see the rest of his friends nod and run over to lo’ak, yanking his tail trying to pull him down but to no avail. Lo’ak is throwing punches, not even missing ONE hit, hissing and scratching him once he was close. You got up and ran to lo’ak when you saw one of the boys come up behind him, “lo’ak! behind you!” you scream, rushing to where the boy was and hit him in the face which sent him to the floor, you stood still and looked at your fist, then looked at lo’ak who was looking at you with a look of pride, “woah.” you laughed out. ”Nice hit, y/n!” lo’ak yelled before punching another boy who was coming right at him. Needless to say you two spent the next few minutes fighting them off and attracting attention from all the screaming, yelling and hissing. Just as you was about to tackle ao’nung to the floor you saw him smirking, he was looking at you before glancing behind you, raising your eyebrows you turned around and your eyes widened, it was jake. Lo’ak dropped the boy he was holding and cleared his throat, looking down at his feet, you noticed how he looked scared at first but then his expression changed, he looked dark to say the least. Your eyes met jake and once they did you looked away, ashamed. Even though you knew others were watching you and lo’ak fight you didn’t feel anything but when it comes to jake? every single negative emotion you can think of comes flooding in. Jake had a look of disappointment and anger on his face, he was stomping angrily towards lo’ak but was glancing at you, glaring at you. “Lo’ak what were you thinking?!” he angrily muttered under his breath, looking at the boys who were groaning and laying in the sand. Lo’ak didn’t answer him, instead he was looking at you. ”Answer me, lo’ak.” jake stated, placing his hands on his shoulder making him look at him, lo’ak gave him a very loud, obnoxious, sigh before rolling his eyes, “they were picking on y/n, okay?” lo’ak answers while giving ao’nung and his friends a glare. Jake pauses for a second and turns to look at you, you gave him a small nod which said everything. Looking back at lo’ak he observes him, seeing how he has many scratches on him and blooding dribbling down his nose. Jake sighs and tells lo’ak to go to ronal to tend his bruises and others, lo’ak grumbled, looking at you, muttering a “sorry” and went off. You walked over to jake and poked his arm which prompted him to look at you, “sir- jake, please don’t be mad at lo’ak. I mean ao’nung is the problem, it is true that he made fun of me and you know but it wasn’t his fault.. please don’t be.. mad at him?” you state, looking over his shoulder to see ao’nung smirking. Just like lo’ak, he grumbles and looks behind him, ao’nung quickly switches his demeanor, he was no longer smirking but had a “ouch he hit me super hard” type of face, he was scrunching his face and groaning, rubbing his arm. That guy, you thought. If it was possible, steam would be coming out of your ears right now, face all red and looking.. scary. ”So.. is he still in trouble?” you ask, “yes..?” jake replies unsurely. You rolled your eyes but before you could speak jake cuts you off and tells you to go to ronal to also get treated. Nodding you skipped your way there, you were just happy to see him there, if he was even there. Arriving there was a little bit nerve-wracking. I mean, what would ronal think? two people fighting their son, on their land, but she didn’t know that her son was involved so it was nothing, when you entered the marui, lo’ak and ronal  simultaneously looked at you, ronal sighs, “another one.” she says and gestures to you sit down beside lo’ak. “At least you don’t look that bad?” you chuckle, lo’ak purses his lips and gives you a nod. Sooner or later ronal leaves the room so you two could have some space and to also see what the ruckus was all about. Both you and lo’ak were sorry for each other, you were sorry that lo’ak got in trouble even though it wasn’t really his fault, lo’ak was sorry that he got you involved, sorry that because of him, you were hurt. He hated it, you got hurt because of him, but then again, ao’nung and his friends started it. It was silence at first, you could hear the waves crashing, people talking to one another, the wind. But that silence was broken by lo’ak, “im sorry.” he muttered, “huh- wait, why? sorry for what?” you ask, placing your hand on his, giving it a small squeeze. Lo’ak looked up and stared at you, your face, it was bruised. “That you got hurt. I should’ve stopped you from getting involved.” Your shoulders eased, a soft look now adorned on your face (which lo’ak noticed), but before he got comprehend anything you pulled him in a hug, a very tight one. His head rested on your shoulder, your arms around his body, he could smell your scent, you smelled nice, no, beautiful, if you can even say that. He immediately melted from your touch and leaned into you more which made you giggle, lo’ak always loved it when you hugged him or just touch him over all. “Listen lo’ak,” you say, pulling him back making him pout, he tried to hug you again but you lightly pushed him back, “no lo’ak, listen to what i have to say.” you say while giggling, upon hearing this lo’ak stopped trying to hug you and sat still. ”I want to say thank you lo’ak, for helping me from those boys, it was very brave of you to do that, you hear that? brave. You’re my hero lo’ak,” you finish, your hands were on his shoulder this whole time, staring deep into his eyes, telling lo’ak that what you were saying was true. You could’ve sworn that you saw a shine in his eyes, tears, when you asked him if he crying he immediately snapped out of his “trance” and shook his head, “no way.”, with his answer you giggle, “sure.” You pressed your foreheads together, hands cupping his cheeks, your thumb caressing his cheeks, both you and lo’ak had a smile on your faces, suddenly you perked up which almost gave him a heart attack, “oh! and i loved it when you punched that boy! you need to teach me.” you said, lo’ak gave you a scared look but gave you a nod which made you smile. Lo’ak then rambled to you about fighting techniques and interesting things that happened today, in the middle of his talk you pulled lo’ak into a hug which made him stunned at first but melted into your touch almost immediately, you played with his hair while he spoke, and this time, you weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.

tsu’tey x omaticaya/metkayina! reader Before tsu’tey could even do anything, they had already backed away, all of ao’nung’s friends had a scared look on their faces, almost ghostly pale. Ao’nung didn’t look as terrified as his friends but you knew that he did feel some sort of regret for taunting tsu’tey. “What’s wrong? are you scared?”, now if was HIS turn to taunt them. Ao’nung looked up, tsu’tey was much taller than him, although ao’nung may be a bit much bulkier that doesn’t change the fact that he, tsu’tey, was the greatest and toughest warrior from the omaticaya clan. They knew that if tsu’tey wanted the fight them, he would, but they also knew that he was very, very strong. So if they ever went up against him they would most definenetly lose. Tsu’tey had a scowl on his face, he clenched his fists tightly to the point where it turned white-ish. Before tsu’tey could do anything or say anything ao’nung and his friends backed away even more and bolted away. You and tsu’tey was left alone after they ran away, tsu’tey was stunned at first but once he realized that you were still there, laying down and hurt he immediately rushed to your side and started to check if you had any bruises of blood on you. “Are you okay my love?” tsu’tey asked, his arms around your body to help you up, once you were standing up you nod your head, “im okay tsu’tey.” you whisper, wiping the sand off your arms and body. Tsu’tey grabbed onto both of your arms prompting you to look at him, he had a stern look on his face, “are you sure?”, you stare at tsu’tey, giving him a small smile you nod. Tsu’tey looks unsure but your sweet smile reassures him, after that you and tsu’tey walk along the shore, tsu’tey keeps an eye out for ao’nung and his friends, making sure that the group doesn’t come back to taunt both of you or harass you. He’s glancing at you and quickly looking around just incase they decide to come back, but he knew that they wouldn’t come back, but still. “Are you even listening tsu’tey?” you ask, stopping your rambling. You keep on walking but this time you were looking up and tsu’tey, a faint frown appears on your face. You start to fidget with your fingers and clothing, waiting for his answer. “Sorry ma y/n, i was just seeing if those boys will come again, i was listening.” tsu’tey explained, resting his hand on your shoulder. Nodding you give tsu’tey a gentle smile before resuming to your talk, the entire time you were talking tsu’tey was admiring you, how you looked so adorable when you waved your hands around when you explained something, how your eyes lit up when you remember something you love or enjoy and then go on to ramble about it to him. Your smile was beautiful. Every time he saw you smiling or thinks about it he can’t help but melt, a faint smile appearing on his face which makes jake elbow him and smirk, sometimes raising his eyebrows which makes him roll his eyes and rest his face, but then that same smile would make an appearance once again. Stepping into your shared marui you immediately flop down on the bed, tsu’tey giving you a chuckle before laying down beside you, “tired?” he asks, when you give him a nod and a small mumble to which he could barely make out a “yes” he rests beside you, pulling you closer to him and places his arm around your body, embracing you. The drowsiness then takes over, sending you into a deep sleep while tsu’tey stays awake for a while, admiring your features. His fingers lightly grazing your face, brushing your hair off your face, after a few hours minutes of admiring your face he kisses your forehead, holding you closer before drifting off to sleep. When you awoke you instinctively squint your eyes to see more clearly from the sun shining on your face but you realized how it was dark, no sun whatsoever. Getting up you made sure to do slowly and carefully, you didn’t want to wake up tsu’tey, once you sat up you stretched your arms and stared at the sky, many stars adorning the sky. It was beautiful, but not even the thousands of words that are similar to beautiful can describe what you saw. You slowly got up and walked out of the marui, your eyes focusing on the thousands of stars that were in the sky, once you got close to the shore you sat down, the water rising up and down, the water hugged your foot whenever it did rise. The cold wind made everything better, the glowing fish swirled around in the deeper parts of the water, they caught your attention, after observing them for a bit you noticed how they stayed in one spot, swirling around. They did not move to another place, you decided to get up and see what they were doing. Stepping foot into the water you shivered, the water was cold, way too cold, but you were determined to reach the fish. Once you did get close to the fish they quickly swam away and went to another spot, it wasn’t far away so you decided to go there, every time you got close to them they would swim away and go to another spot, you would laugh whenever one of the fish was left behind and caught up to it’s group quickly, this repeated for a bit before you got tired. You swam up to a rock and climbed up on it, sitting down you kicked your feet in the water, getting a better and closer look of the beauty of the ocean. Schools of fish swam everywhere, some even swirling around where the rock was before going some place else. A smile creeps on your face, sighing you look up at the sky again. You stared mindlessly at the sky, taking in the beauty, but you were disturbed when you hear someone yell out your name, “y/n!”, turning around you see tsu’tey on the shore, you waved at him and gestured him to come over to where you were. Tsu’tey wasted no time and stepped into the cold ocean, once tsu’tey was near you he hopped onto the rock and sat down beside you. You two did not speak, the silence was way too loud. “What are you doing out here y/n? something on your mind?” he asks, placing his hand on yours, staring at you, you stopped observing the sky and turned to face tsu’tey, you ponder for a bit before speaking, “mhm, i guess something’s on my mind,” you start, tsu’tey gives you a nod, “tsu’tey?” you ask, “yes y/n?”, “do you think im weird?” Tsu’tey is taken aback from your question, mentally questioning why you’re thinking that, his grip on your hand tightens, “y/n, why do you say that? you are not weird to me, not to anyone. If they think that then let them think that, but nothing will change the way i look at you, think about you, the way i love you.” His answer makes you heart swell, falling for your mate even more. You gaze softens, leaning in you give him a chaste kiss on his lips, it’s a small, passionate kiss, nothing too rough. “Thank you tsu’tey, i guess ao’nung and his friends have a toll on me. They’ve been teasing me relentlessly when you’re not around.” after stating that tsu’tey’s gaze sharpened, tsu’tey had a irritated look on his face. Noticing this you placed your hand on his chest, “but don’t worry, just teach me how to defend myself. I don’t want to burden you with my troubles..” you mutter, “nonsense y/n, your problems are my problems.”, you let out a soft laugh and nod. You then went on about how they “would never lay a finger on you since he always had an eye on you, far away or not.” How once he was away, once you had nobody to “protect” you, they would start to pick on you. Every time you explained to him about what they did and said when he was away angered him even more, his chest puffed up. You would be lying if you said he didn’t look attractive when he was mad. After some calming down he held you close, promising that he would never let harm come your way, and if it ever did he would be there to protect you, dead or not.

note: if you would like to be added to the avatar taglist pls just ask me!! dont be shy <3

taglist:  @winnithepoohh @nerbyrobotics

liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!

another note: WE FINALLY HIT 1K!! WOOHOO!!! im extremely grateful for everybody and their love and support <3 i want to get out an event but im not sure what to do.. also i have like matchup reqs from my last event that i haven’t done yet since i was so busy :(( ANYWAYS, i finished this in like a few hours so way to go me!! hope everybody enjoys their day. also not proofread so any mistakes just ignore <3

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

[sphaxcca]

My Candy Love New Gen ep. 4 Review

Here I am after finishing the last episode of MCL New Gen ready to give my honest and unasked opinion about it. Fasten your seatbelts cause we are about to start and i'm not gonna be gentle

LET'S TALK ABOUT IT...

So the episode opens with Elenda who's basically trying to drag us so bad to the Cosey Bear because apparently Castiel was serving there ( No judgement toward Elenda, i wanted to see my husband too). Unfortunately for me and her, he already had left when we showed up to the Cafe. >3>.

Seeing Lynn animated was so cute and a little bit nostalgic but nothing compared to the GASP I emitted when she started talking to Thomas and he told her he was in love with her. GEEEEZ, now i get why that kid was a pain in the ass and RUINED my pic-nic date with Tomato head, THE DOTS CONNECTED. Btw it was a very cute scene and a tribute to Iris that I hope she will show up in Thomas' route.

Moving on, inspired by Thomas' love confession, everybody starts talking about their love life (expected since the episode's name is hearts looking for love). And this is where things went horribly cringe and outrageous: Ofc i'm not talking about Elenda and Devon ( It was cute to know that she had a crush on Devon and, about him, a little peak to where the story is possibly going to lead - a busy man that works his ass off so bad for Devenementiel and has no time to date)or Amanda but about ROY and BRUNE.

Hoooooly shit, the chill of second hand embarassment that I got just by reading the interractions between these two was undescribable I swear( Elenda became basically my guide spirit: her reaction was the same i had. ). Everything was so outofcontext and nonsense that I'm actually wondering why Beemov decided it was a great idea to give space to something so....childish? I mean, we're talking about (almost) 30yo people.. and they got together because they were...desperate??????? - "Yeah with my exes things weren't doing good so we decided to date even tho we don't talk, don't touch and fell uncomfortable with each other" - COOOME ON, BFR, you guys ok? Also, I really hope that we're gonna discover something deeper about Roy (or that he's going to get a development at least) that makes him more that what i can pick up and feel from him right now: childish Gymrat fixed on pool that give us nothing. I'm genuine deluded about the way they handled this.

Moving on to JASON PART. He basically shows up when we're still talking sitted by the table. I was obviously expecting the part where he was going to be pointed out as a "womanizer" but what I DID NOT EXPECT was the reaction he had when he overhears our conversation: I felt him being sarcastic as usual but at the end i felt he was kinda....hurt??? idk if you get what i mean, he literally said he had REASONS why he doesn't want to be in full term relationship and this opens my mind to an INFINITE AMOUNT OF THEORIES

Connected to what I've read on some theories here, someone said it's because of the condition ( or the pathology) that made his hair go white...

This is a really good point but I genuine think about something else that is connected to this and the SHOCK NUMBER 2: Why Devenementiel hates Jason so much?

Apparently our "proud and superior" man with an incredible fragile ego had PLAGIARIZED the project the would have helped Devon to found Devenementiel and, because of that, he was fired and disqualified by the contest. So...first things first: PIECE OF SHIT. Secondly, I genuine would have never thought about him doing something like this and that's the reason why i don't think he did it because he wanted to but perphaps he WAS PUSHED to do so.

Another theorie said that probably he was helped by a third person that played dirty and suggested him the same project Devon did

And I have to admit that this is something very likely, but stil don't really convince me too much.

We can clearly see that Jason has a lot of money, A LOT, and by the way he has so much money i'm assuming he comes from a family that at least has the same amount of capital he has now. We got told that he was basically working as an employer (if i remember correctly) so why trying to steal something from others if you are satisfied and don't need a job? perhaps because you NEED that first place to REDEEM yourself and PROVE someone wrong at least so that.. THE END JUSTIFIES THE MEANS. That's where his family and the white hair make their part: A Dad Ceo that basically disgraced his Son because he couldn't follow or keep up with the family business or - he wasn't good enough- for the role ( and that's why the white hair, because of the stress) . Another thing that might prove this is the fact that Devon told us that he had "private investors" and...i mean, if you're broke, i don't think you can find them just by snapping your fingers and make them appear in front of you, especially when you get fired and disqualified in a competition. He could have use the "family" name and hi charisma to persuade the investors to help him found Goldreamz. And THIS leads me to the last point: Why no long term relationship? Because his family has to end with him and he's scared of the consequences that a partner can have in his life. This reminded me so much Simon from Bridgerton btw. So yeah...I might be wrong (99%) but i want to think that he's a piece of shit just because he's hurt.

His special scene was normal i guess, i love the way my candy was looking at the instagram photos be like - "i'm just studying the enemy...not doing something wrong..maybe".

In the end i decided to try for the Thomas illustration and nothing to complain about, the scene was genuine one of the most cute one in the game so fare and the ilusstration 10/10 chef's kiss and handshake by the president.

[leikeliscomet]

We Failed the First Black Doctor (Part 1)

We failed the first Black doctor.

I know you’re thinking ‘What the hell, I didn't do anything to Ncuti!’. That right there is part of what I mean. When tabloids and fans say ‘the first Black doctor’, our minds go straight to Ncuti Gatwa and rightfully so. Some fans might say Lenny Henry. Some fans might even say Peter Davison. When I say ‘First Black Doctor’, I mean Jo Martin. I think about the Fugitive Doctor. I think about how in only one episode she appealed to so many fans. I think about how she carried a gun and ripped off a Judoon captain’s horn. I think about how a great character was fumbled so badly by the show. I think about how fans barely think about her now. I think about how the first Black doctor was done so dirty. Your next thought is probably ‘Well isn’t that Chibnall’s fault?’. In a way, yes. But also no. What exactly went wrong varies from writing processes to behind-the-scenes structure to fandom politics. To unpack why Fugitive was done dirty, we need to start from the beginning. 

Series 12 would be a complete 180 of series 11; returning monsters, a more energetic soundtrack and heavier reliance on Doctor Who lore (or whatever was left of it). Apart from a vague Timeless Child namedrop in The Ghost Monument, Thirteen’s run was smoother than her predecessors in terms of less overwhelming narrative arcs. No Hybrids or a Time Lord Victorious, just a girl and her fam. Until one day in Gloucester, a tour guide named Ruth would transform in a lighthouse and essentially change Thirteen’s life for the rest of her run. What seemed like an RTD-esque Judoon episode turned into the debut episode for a brand-new incarnation of the Doctor. And we never saw it coming. And neither did Chris Chibnall apparently. In an interview, he revealed that the script for Fugitive of the Judoon was already underway and the Fugitive was a last-minute addition. This was red flag no 1. A last-minute character wasn’t inherently a bad thing, as it was assumed Fugitive would return again in the second half of series 12 and likely in series 13. These appearances were lacklustre, but I’ll go into more detail later. Fugitive’s casting made a lot of noise; bad and good. Right-wing sides of the fandom were outraged at a Black woman playing a role they thought was exclusively for white men (no surprise there) and plenty of comments fuelled with misogynoir, antiblackness and colourism were thrown her way too (no surprises there either). What made this outrage worse was Fugitive’s ambiguous role in the timeline. Many were angry about Fugitive being before One and thought it disrespected William Hartnell’s legacy of being the first incarnation of the show. Contrary to popular fandom belief, Chibnall didn’t actually confirm if Fugitive is pre-Hartnell or not, he left her placement vague on purpose. We as fans have reason to believe so because she didn’t have a sonic and we saw One to Two’s regeneration on screen along with One’s companions, so we know she couldn’t be between those two. Pre-Hartnell is a ‘fanon’ theory, but this doesn’t take into account how Fugitive's TARDIS is a police box already. Another popular idea in the fandom is the season 6B theory. We know Two regenerates into Three, but the physical regeneration is never actually shown on screen, so a sneaky incarnation between them is possible. But again, the missing sonic does poke a small hole in that theory. Fugitive did however state she was smart enough not to need one rather than saying she didn’t know what it was, so maybe the 6B truthers were onto something. The Timeless Children promised to answer these burning questions and didn’t. So, we were back on square one, assuming we ever left it in the first place. With Chibnall also confirming Fugitive is not from a parallel universe, so she had to fit into the main lineup but not after Thirteen, figuring out the origin of the Fugitive became a painful and lengthy debate for answers we never got and probably never will.

Fortunately, details about the Fugitive would end up in her design process. Costume designer Ray Holman added elements of previous doctors in her design. The tweed in her jacket comes from Eleven, whilst her black trousers and boots reference Twelve. Her boots are also for combat purposes, drawing parallels to Three in terms of martial arts ability. Additionally, the colourful shirt she wears is Kente cloth, a colourful Ghanaian fabric, giving a small African cultural nod to our first Black doctor. Jo Martin has spoken about the importance of representation in interviews, stating she didn’t see a lot of Black characters growing up and how Fugitive allowed Black kids watching the show to have someone to look up to. She also noticed the Black and mixed race cosplayers and has shouted them out on her Instagram page. Many pictures and stories on her page showcased fans of colour in blue jackets and yellow glasses, giving the Fugitive her well-deserved flowers. For the first time, we had a doctor that looked like us and this was what made the Fugitive groundbreaking. A dark-skinned Black woman with locs playing the Doctor is something I didn’t see coming. A wish and a hope maybe, but seeing it come into reality definitely touched me. Not only was I seeing a Black woman of my complexion as a main character in Doctor Who, but she was the main character. Not only that, but her backstory was engaging. Why did she run away? Who is she running from? Where does she fit in the timeline? Within one episode, Jo Martin had already captured the ‘Doctor essence’ needed for the role, with some even saying it challenged Whittaker’s performance.

Enter Ruth. We see her get ready and head to work on her birthday. We don’t know a lot about her but she seems friendly. Her partner Lee on the other hand seems a bit sketchy. Fast forward, Judoon are on the hunt for the fugitive who they assume is Lee. Thirteen and the fam swoop in to help the two out. Thirteen knows something is wrong and she can’t place her finger on it. But as time goes on the situation spins out of her control. The alleged tour guide has ripped the horn off a Judoon’s head, an act of dishonour and humiliation. Thirteen’s doubts grow as the two reach the lighthouse because the holes in Ruth’s story are starting to show. Why live in a lighthouse? Why have a blank gravestone? Enter the Fugitive Doctor, previously Ruth. The lighthouse was her fob watch, hiding her memories and true identity. Lee was her companion playing a role similar to that of Martha Jones in Human Nature/Family of Blood and gave his life to save her. Taking that story, we now see how it plays out from the other side; from the POV of Martha Jones as protector to the POV of the Fugitive as the protected. In this 50-minute slot, we already have a backstory for this new doctor that still leaves room for the imagination. On board the Judoon ship, Gat is defeated by Fugitive with a gun she didn’t even have to fire. As she timed this according to the ship’s acceleration, Gat’s shooting takes place in interstellar space with no laws so Fugitive gets away with murder. Almost literally. She’s confident with a powerful presence and takes control of the room, contrasting Thirteen’s more chaotic and vulnerable approach. Thirteen and us as the audience are stunned as this complete stranger has saved the day and made it look so effortless. From there, the groundwork had been done for a new main character in the Chibnall era cast. But this wasn’t delivered.

Part 2 ->

[baby-fae-thorn]

Danger

Thorn had been wandering around the woods, a little aimlessly. He couldn't stop thinking about his encounters. The people he'd met. And that he still couldn't find Kye. He wasn't going to just go home without him. But the idea of the family leaving without them was so much to bear.

There was a faint, tugging sensation that stopped him in his tracks. The glimmer of a portal started to open in the clearing. Spitting out two fae. A tall dark haired one and a small fair haired one. The dark haired one was jerking the smaller by the arm. He caught sight of Thorn and stopped. For a moment, their eyes locked. Thorn shyed back a step. Not liking what he saw there. He jerked the smaller fae towards him.

"Tell him." He growled. "Tell him that his pain is on you. For refusing me."

Skylar stumbled forward a step. Meeting the shocked eyes of the young fae. "What?" He turned back towards Malachi. "No. No. You can't."

Thorn had a brief moment to wonder what he meant by that before the dark haired fae appeared before him. Close enough he could see the whites of his eyes. He gasped, staggering back, but the fae caught him by the arm. His grip hurt, and Thorn made a pained sound.

"You will bear me children!" He snarled at him.

"Malachi!" Skylar cried, throwing himself at him, grabbing him around the middle, in an attempt to pull him off the boy, but it was no use. Malachi flung his arm sending Skylar spiraling away and onto ground where his head collided with a large rock. And everything went black.

Fear gripped Thorn, the need to be away from here. He cried out again, when Malachi it seemed, jerked him against him. His fingers gripping him by the hair and wrenching his head back so he could crash their lips together. Thorn let out a pained gasp. And his kiss, his first kiss was viciously stolen from him by the crazed fae he'd never even seen before. He screamed out in his mind, the outrage of it.

Kye had felt it. His head snapping up in the direction of a scream. Though it wasn't a coherent one. One that could be heard by human ears. But he knew who it was. He knew in his soul who it was. And he took off at speed towards his baby brother.

As he stepped into the clearing, his glamor fell. His hair elongated into long golden tendrils. His brown eyes lightening to an icy blue. A cascade of sparkly freckles dotting accross his skin. His ears ending in a point. His magic licked up his arms as he came to a stop.

He took in the scene before him. Finding the crumpled form of the fae who had fallen. And the faerie knight, pinning his brother against a tree. Devouring him, hands groping at him. And Thorn, strugging feebly against him, tears wet on his cheeks. The anger in him raged like an inferno. Because how dare he. How dare he take what his brother had not given to him. "MALACHI!" His voice rang out accross the clearing. Because he knew that was exactly who this monster was. All of faerie knew.

Malachi ripped away from the young fae, letting him fall from his hands. He wiped at his mouth before turning his steely blue eyes on the one who had evoked the power of his name. He sized him up. A smirk tugging on his mouth.

Thorn fell onto the ground, chest heaving as helpless tears rolled down his cheeks. He couldn't catch his breath. But he saw Kye there. And it eased something inside of him. Because if Kye was there he was safe. His brother wouldn't allow anything else to happen to him.

"Problem...sprite?" Malachi asked Kye. An amused expression on his face.

Kye jerked his chin forward. "You will step away from my brother, sir." He said calmly.

His laugh echoed throughout the clearing. Malachi dropped his eyes towards the small fae he'd been molesting. Then turned his attention back to the other one. Who seemed far studier. He was considerably taller than Skylar was. Thin, delicately bones. Malachi would take great pleasure in breaking him, he thought. More so than the younger one. "Oh I see. Your brother." He took a menacing step forward. Noting with amusement that Skylar was beginning to rouse. This would be important for him to see, after all. To see what his refusal would cost others. "You see..." He purred. "Your brother..." He gestured towards the sniveling teen. "Is now mine. By the rules of faerie. He received my kiss. And did not refuse me. Therefore..." He shrugged nonchalantly. "He is mine."

"He is not yours, sir." Kye replied, not missing a beat. "He is pure, sir. Never been touched. And now, you have soiled him, sir. I shan't forgive you for that."

Thorn's trembling fingers came up to his lips. His glamor fell because he couldn't hold it up any longer. The true horror of what had happened washed over him. He had accepted a gift. Not willingly, but he'd accepted it. It didn't matter that it hadn't been fair. It didn't matter that he couldn't push him away. The law was clear. At least the law as far as he understood it was.

Malachi narrowed his eyes. "Shan't you? And what exactly do you intend on doing about it?"

Kye knew he was no match for Malachi. But right now the only thing standing between Malachi and Thorn was him. So, he had to make it right somehow. He extended a hand towards the ex-knight. "I offer you...a bargain." He said. An orb of light coalescing in his open palm. "A life for a life, sir. Or. Better yet, sir. Two lives for one, sir. Because I, sir. Have what you seek."

"Do you?" Malachi was interested now. His eyes raking over the form of the delicate fae. The light in his hand shimmering with an enticing glow.

The orb continued to shimmer. "I do, sir. I can give you a baby, sir. Thorn can not, sir. He is too young yet. And Skylar..." He cast an eye over at the fae in question, who had blood dripping down his face from a head wound. "Is no longer yours, sir. So. It would never work."

Malachi considered Skylar. A mixture of anger and something else in his eyes. He then returned his gaze to Kye. "You are offering yourself to me?"

Thorn gasped. "No! No! You can't!" He shifted over onto his knees. Desperation in his voice. Because no, That was not a suitable trade. It would never be suitable trade.

Kye smiled, though it was meant more for his baby brother than anyone else. "I am, sir. But first....first, they go free, sir. That is the trade, sir. Thorn and Skylar. For me, and your child, sir."

Skylar made a sound. It was a pained but enraged sound. "Malachi!" He snarled. His vision was blurry and he could barely focus on him. But he would not allow this. Would not allow for someone else to victim to Malachi. Never again. He could feel his bonds, one with Eric, one with Joel. And he wrapped a hand around them, tugging on them. Willing his mates to appear somehow. And knowing, above anything else. That they would come. "You are dead." Skylar said with absolute certainty.

Kye was startled by Skylar's rage and barely had time to prepare himself for Malachi's lunge. The both went crashing to the forest floor. Malachi rolling on top and pinning Kye beneath him. He gasped in pain at the assault. The crushing weight on him.

Malachi clawed at him, ripping his shirt open with clawed fingers. "MINE!" He hissed. "Give it to me!"

Thorn let out a cry, lurching forward to help his brother. Skylar sat, frozen where he was. The glowing orb now held triumphantly in Malachi's hands.

[respectthepetty]

Another day, another ask, but this time, it's about what are some currently airing shows that you're watching and really enjoying and how would you describe what you like about them briefly?

For example, The Warp Effect: Wholesome and sex positive QL, with so much representation and topics brought up weekly. Nothing like what I was expecting - in the best way.

Happy (Belated) Valentine's Day @sliceduplife! I hope it was kind to you because my response is going to be just like me and my favorite characters - problematic and absolute basura!

To begin, I'm actually going to tell you what I'm rewatching instead of currently watching:

Great Men Academy - Much like 3 Will Be Free and The Warp Effect, Great Men Academy isn't a BL, but it doesn't stop it from being queer af. It has a unicorn that grants wishes, a magical lake that requires nudity to activate, a ghost, a school sanctioned Hunger Games, body swapping, and an Elite level moment:

If you don't get the Elite reference, know that this lead-paint-level-toxic hottie, Cruz, delivered the best line ever uttered in the series:

¡No soy gay! Ni bi. Ni tri. ¡Soy futbolista! (I'm not gay! Not bi. Not tri. I'm a footballer!) <- I say "¡Soy futbolista!" all of the time when people ask about my sexuality without clarification and leave them in their confusion.

*moving on to your actual ask*

The Warp Effect - I came for Joy, the cinematographer who also did KinnPorsche, and Jojo, the director who does everything else I love, but stayed to see all the ways people could come... to an understanding about their sexuality. Also, it's very queer.

My Beautiful Man 2 - I do not condone stalking, but when it comes to my idol and his devoted worshiper, I'm trying to invent new ways of stalking, so Hira can always be within a 100 yards of Kiyoi. They should be more red flags than California during fire season, yet they are wholesome and adorable.

Well...in a very kinky way, kinda like these two wild kids from Secretary

Never Let Me Go - It has a teenager becoming the CEO of his family's multi-million dollar company and another teenager being his bodyguard falling in love! How could I not love it?! It's outrageous! And somehow the most unrealistic thing about this plot is there being a genuine good guy who openly talks about bitcoins, and I LOVE HIM! I did not have falling in love with a man who enjoys "investing" on my BINGO card, but then again, look at my very good boy. LOOK AT HIM!

Hit Bite Love - It's so messy. It has stepbrothers in love, open discussions about condom sizes and lubricant, Kinks-R-Us, a bi Burger looking for his King, and so much more. This past episode hid a pivotal scene behind a paywall due to the two characters having sex in the school's locker room, so half of the plot was missing in the edited version. It made NO SENSE, but I didn't care. Give me all the mess, but I draw the line at taking off your sock and putting it in someone's mouth. BAD BOY! VERY BAD BOY!

The End of the World with You - Japanese BLs stress me out. They give me a lot of an anxiety, and I'm constantly preparing for someone to die or for one of them to be a murderer. Even in the "happiest" Japanese BLs, there always exist this undercurrent of malice..and I'm attracted to it. >insert Ritsu aka El Diablo<

Moonlight Chicken - Eff "More than Friends, Less than Lovers!" That's child's play. Give me my HussyVille Gang Gang! Give me the "we've been breaking beds and each other's backs since day one, but I'm not even sure what his name is, and if I'm being honest, I don't really need to know" squad. Then, on top of that, it's EarthMix doing the devil's boogie?! I waited for over a year for this, and I don't say this often when it comes to men, but the anticipation was worth it.

HIStory 5: Love in the Future - I will always show up to a Taiwanese BL. They are like Rihanna at the Super Bowl. They do the bare minimum but are still very entertaining, include all the fan favorites (domestic bliss, high heat, office romances, good side couples, marriage equality), and pop out with a few surprises. Others may be disappointed, but I am ALWAYS pleased.

My School President - Did you read the list before this? There is a common underlying theme. Even if the show isn't messy, I'm going to find the mess and fixate on it, and it doesn't get stranger than Por's obsession with the chinchilla. GMM better get on merchandising this critter ASAP because there is a gold mine behind this, capitalizers.

Bed Friend - It hasn't started yet, but I'll be watching it. It has a Blue Boy and Red Rascal BUT they are not who would normally be coded that way, which means they are clearly going to have to resolve the reasons why they changed their behavior to cover up their obvious colors. Who hurt our Red Rascal that he turned into a nun? Who harmed our Blue Boy to make him the slutty slut he is? I cannot wait to find out!

Chains of Heart - One word: Papi. Wait, sorry. Let me try again: Poppy. The show has a plot, and I care about it, but...Poppy. He is playing a bad guy, which I got a glimpse of in Love Mechanics, so I'm hoping it means we get to see more of him, and I don't mean screen time, although I wouldn't be opposed to that either. Obviously, I have to be interested in the actual plot since he is a supporting character...but POPPY! mmmm, papi!

[twoidiotwriters1]

Almighty (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: The concert was amazing I feel great -Danny Words: 2,476 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Cough Syrup' -by Young The Giant

XVI: I'm up to My Tits With Morons

Ara does not get to kill stuff, all she gets to witness is the egregious birth of more ant eggs and an outrageous rap from Apollo.

"I'm never calling that thing Mama," she protests as they crawl out of the nest. "There's something really wrong with you, man."

"Let's not go there," Apollo comes out behind her and examines what's in front of them. "It's a gateway, to the Grove of Dodona."

"Aren't we in the grove?" Meg asks squinting.

"No... I think this is more of an antechamber. The grove itself is behind those trees." 

"I don't hear any voices." Meg tilts her head.

"The grove knows we are here," Apollo mumbles. "It's waiting to see what we'll do."

"Ara," Meg says shakily, reaching for her hand and tugging. "Look..." The girl follows her gaze and feels her soul leaving her body: There, hanging from the trunks framing the entrance, are cocoons of... 

"Demigods," Ara says hoarsely.

"Oh, monstrous," Apollo closes ranks next to her. "We need to free them immediately."

"Wh-what's wrong with them?" Meg stammers.

Ara approaches Cecil and examines him, she sniffs the wrapping and makes a face. "Don't touch it, Lester." A growl comes from above and Peaches appears, severely beaten. 

"Thank the gods!" Apollo beams. "Meg, hurry! Order your friend to—"

"Apollo." Meg points over their shoulders sounding stifled. Emerging from the tunnel are two broad and tall male figures, imposing and blond like Octavian, but these men are not as weak-looking as him and they're covered in armor. Ara steps to the side to hide Meg.

"Germani." Apollo stands next to her in a way that tries to be protective. When he speaks, the guards step sideways and let a third person enter the scene.

Ara's blood pressure drops. "Is that..."

"Emperor Nero," Apollo says darkly. "The Beast."

The man smirks. "Nero will do. It's good to see you, my honored ancestor. I'm sorry I've been so lax about my offerings during the past few millennia, but I haven't needed you. I've done rather well on my own." He eyes Ara, stopping a moment on the flowers in her hair. "Daughter of Olympus," Nero drawls the name as if she's a yummy dessert he can't wait to take a bite of. "The wonder of a millennia... finally within reach."

"It's me you want," Apollo steps in. "Cut these demigods down from their stakes. Let them leave with Meg and Ara. They've done nothing to you."

"I'll be happy to let them go once we've come to an agreement. As for Meg... How are you, my dear?"

Meg keeps her head down. Ara understands who the spy is then, but she's left stunned and speechless, having the Nero before them terrifies her so that she's scared her voice will give it away. One of the guards whispers something at Nero and he nods a bit. 

"Soon. But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce my right hand, Vincius, and my left hand, Garius—Ah, sorry. My right hand, Garius, and my left hand, Vincius. Those are the Romanized versions of their Batavi names, which I can't pronounce. Usually I just call them Vince and Gary. Say hello, boys."

"They have serpent tattoos," Apollo points out, "like those street thugs you sent to attack me."

"I have many servants," Nero says casually. "Cade and Mikey are quite low on the pay scale. Their only job was to rattle you a bit, welcome you to my city."

"Excuse me?" Ara snaps out of her shock, but Apollo places a hand on her shoulder, knowing that attacking is exactly what Nero wants her to do. 

"And these two gentlemen... they are actually Germani from the ancient times? How?"

"Lord Apollo, please," Nero laughs. "Even before Gaea commandeered the Doors of Death, souls escaped from Erebos all the time. It was quite easy for a god-emperor such as myself to call back my followers."

"A god-emperor?" Apollo tenses. "You mean a delusional ex-emperor."

"What made you a god, Apollo... back when you were one? Wasn't it the power of your name, your sway over those who believed in you? I am no different. Vince, fall on your spear, please."

Vince prepares to stab himself with the spear before the emperor lazily gives him a new command. "Stop, I changed my mind. You see? I hold the power of life and death over my worshippers, like any proper god should."

"The Germani were always crazy, much like you."

"I'm hurt! My barbarian friends are loyal subjects of the Julian dynasty! And, of course, we are all descended from you, Lord Apollo."

"Wh-what do you want, Nero?" Meg stammers.

"Straight to the point. I've always admired that about you, Meg," Nero smiles. "Really, it's simple. You and Apollo will open the gates of Dodona for me. Then these six will be released."

"You'll destroy the grove," Apollo states. "Then you'll kill us."

"Not unless you force me to. I'm a reasonable god-emperor, Apollo! I'd much rather have the Grove of Dodona under my control if it can be managed, but I certainly can't allow you to use it. You had your chance at being the guardian of the Oracles. You failed miserably. Now it's my responsibility. Mine... and my partners'."

"As if you'd know better than the god of prophecy," Ara scoffs.

Nero sighs. "Apollo wasn't always in charge, child. And unlike him, we act. You can't argue that he's done his job right, can you?"

"Triumvirates have never worked," Apollo scoffs. "They always lead to civil war."

"The three of us have come to an agreement. We have divided up the new empire... by which I mean North America. Once we have the Oracles, we'll expand and do what Romans have always done best—conquer the world."

"You truly learned nothing from your previous reign."

"Oh, but I did! I've had centuries to reflect, plan, and prepare. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be a god-emperor, unable to die but unable to fully live? There was a period of about three hundred years during the Middle Ages when my name was almost forgotten. I was little more than a mirage! Thank goodness for the Renaissance, when our Classical greatness was remembered. And then came the Internet. Oh, gods, I love the Internet! It is impossible for me to fade completely now. I am immortal on Wikipedia!"

"We can still give permanent destruction a try," Ara says, lifting Almighty.

He laughs. "You're delightful, girl. But unless you're a goddess, I wouldn't bother trying, we're way above your payroll." Nero turns to Apollo. "I could explain my plans and everything, but I have a lot on my plate today. I need you and Meg to open those gates. They've resisted my best efforts, but together you three can do it. Apollo, you have an affinity with Oracles. Meg has a way with trees. The daughter of Olympus, I've heard, has some pretty good charmspeak. Get to it. Please and thank you."

"We would rather die," Apollo hisses. "Wouldn't we, girls?"

"You know it," Ara responds bravely.

"Meg?" Apollo tries again.

"She won't," Ara looks at him somberly.

"Won't what?" He scowls. "What's going—why are you crying, Meg?"

"Oh, my," Nero feigns shock. "It seems we've had a slight miscommunication. You see, Apollo, Meg brought you here, just as I asked her to. Well done, my sweet."

"I—I didn't mean..." Meg trembles.

Apollo looks at Ara and gets the slightest nod. "Meg, no. I can't believe—" He tries to step closer and Peaches aims a bite, but Ara points her sword at the creature between Meg's feet, keeping him away. "This man killed your father! He's a murderer!"

"The Beast killed my father," Meg says weakly. "This is Nero. He's—he's my stepfather."

"That's right, my darling," Nero smiles proudly. "And you've done a wonderful job. Come to Papa."

"Oh, that is messed up," Ara frowns. "I really wanted to kill you before knowing this, but now I truly need to see your head sticking out of a spear."

Nero barks out a laugh again. "Oh, you're truly perfect."

"Meg, we are friends." Apollo demands in outrage. "How could you do this to me?"

"You barely know her, Lester." Ara reprimands him.

Her tone makes Meg wince. "I tried to tell you, to warn you."

"She has a good heart." Nero hums. "But, Apollo, you and Meg have been friends for just a few days—and only because I asked Meg to befriend you. I have been Meg's stepfather, protector, and caretaker for years. She is a member of the Imperial Household."

"I risked my life for you," Apollo insists. "And that actually means something, because I can die!"

"We're all impressed, Apollo," Nero says with boredom. "Now, if you'd open the gates. They've defied me for too long."

"Nero, what have you done?" Apollo demands examining the trees.

"Oh, a number of things! We found a way into this antechamber weeks ago. The Labyrinth has a convenient opening in the myrmekes' nest. But getting through these gates—"

"You forced the palikos to help you? You used a nature spirit to destroy nature? Meg, how can you tolerate this?"

"Come now, Meg knows there are good nature spirits, and bad ones. This geyser god was annoying. He kept asking us to fill out surveys. Besides, he shouldn't have ventured so far from his source of power. He was quite easy to capture. His steam, as you can see, didn't do us much good anyway."

"And the five demigods? Did you 'use' them, too?"

"Of course. I didn't plan on luring them here, but every time we attacked the gates, the grove started wailing. I suppose it was calling for help, and the demigods couldn't resist. The first to wander in was this one—The last two were your own children—Austin and Kayla, yes? They showed up after we forced Paulie to steam-broil the trees. I guess the grove was quite nervous about that attempt. We got two demigods for the price of one!"

Before Ara can jump him for putting her campers at risk, Apollo does it first, but he trips and lands face-first half a meter away from her. She picks him up, too pissed off to even reprimand him. "Apollo!" Meg tries to reach them and Apollo jolts back.

"I don't need your help! Don't you understand who your protector is? He's a monster! He's the emperor who—"

"Don't say it," Nero growls. "If you say 'who fiddled while Rome burned,' I will have Vince and Gary flay you for a set of hide armor. You know as well as I do, Apollo, we didn't have fiddles back then. And I did not start the Great Fire of Rome."

"But you profited from it. Meg, your stepfather watched as seventy percent of Rome was destroyed. Tens of thousands died."

"I was thirty miles away in Antium! I rushed back to the city and personally led the fire brigades!"

"Only when the fire threatened your palace."

"I can't help it if I arrived just in time to save the most important building!" 

Meg whines, trying to muffle their voices by pressing her hands on both ears. "Stop arguing. Please."

Ara has seen this too many times. Demigods influenced by evil because the gods, their main caretakers, abandoned them. It's infuriating to see so many kids suffer, so many souls get hurt and reaped just because the gods are too lazy to catch the abuser's hand before it can taint the world further. What a waste of godly power.

"You had the nerve to put a hundred-foot-tall bronze statue in your front lawn!" Apollo cries in anger. "A statue of yourself as Sol-Apollo, the sun god. In other words, you claimed to be me."

"Indeed. Even after I died, that statue lived on. I understand it became famous as the Colossus of Nero! They moved it to the gladiators' amphitheater and everyone began calling the theater after the statue—the Colosseum. Yes... the statue was the perfect choice."

"I fought there, against a giant. And here at camp, I will wipe the floor with your flimsy chin," Ara growls.

"Not now, dear, the men are talking," he brushes her comment away. "The point is, I had style! The people loved me!"

Apollo scoffs. "They turned against you. The people of Rome were sure you'd started the Great Fire, so you scapegoated the Christians."

"But the Christians were terrorists, you see. Perhaps they didn't start the fire, but they were causing all sorts of other trouble. I recognized that before anyone else!"

"He fed them to the lions," Apollo tells this to Meg as if that would make any difference. "He burned them as human torches, the way he will burn these six."

Meg trembles. "Nero, you wouldn't—"

"They will be released," Nero assures her, "as long as Apollo cooperates."

"Meg, you can't trust him! The last time he did this, he strung up Christians all over his backyard and burned them to illuminate his garden party. I was there. I remember the screaming."

"My dear, don't believe his stories! That was just propaganda invented by my enemies."

"Nero... you didn't say anything about making them into torches."

"They won't burn. It won't come to that. The Beast will not have to act."

"You see, Meg?" Apollo makes a face of disgust. "It's never a good sign when someone starts referring to himself in the third person. Zeus used to scold me about that constantly!"

Ara tries to speak in the calmest voice possible. "Meg, he's manipulating you. He's groomed you into believing you mean something to him..." She takes a step forward, and when Peaches doesn't attack, she keeps talking.  "But when someone truly cares for you, there is no fear involved. You don't flinch at their sudden movements. Look at me," the young girl avoids her gaze. "Let me help you, Meg..."

She gives another step forward and Nero growls, which causes Meg to push her and run over to the man. Ara stumbles and Apollo steadies her. "Go away!"

"You'll open the gates," Nero says darkly. "Then Meg will see if she can use the trees to interpret the future. If so, wonderful! If not... well, we'll burn that bridge when we come to it."

"Meg," Apollo tries one last time, "he's a madman."

"Nero cared about me, Apollo. He gave me a home. He taught me to fight." 

"You said he killed your father!"

"No! No, that's not what I said. The Beast killed him." 

"But—"

"Oh, Apollo... you understand so little. Meg's father was weak. She doesn't even remember him. He couldn't protect her. I raised her. I kept her alive."

"What a pig," Ara spits out venomously. All she wants is a clear shot, and she could tear this man to pieces with her bare hands.

"Meg..." Apollo keeps a hand on Ara's shoulder to keep her from pouncing. "I am so sorry..."

"She doesn't NEED sympathy." Nero snarls. "Now, my dear, if you would be so kind, open the gates. If Apollo objects, remind him that he is bound to follow your orders."

"Apollo, Ara, don't make it harder. Please... help me open the gates." 

Apollo looks at Ara and sends a message through his touch. "Not by choice."

Next Chapter –>

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