#i only have 6 plays and at least 3 of them i plan to read in a copy other than the riverside

[britneyshakespeare]

I have to be so honest and vulnerable with you for a second. I keep thinking of getting another complete works of Shakespeare

[phagodyke]

sorry for not posting much on tumblr lately I've been trying this thing called "having a life" have any of u guys heard of it idk it's kind of niche....

[mitsua]

WAKE UP DAMN IT!

synopsis: on a scale from 1 to 100%, how difficult is it to wake them up? (1.08k)

warnings: contains SPOILERS from lesson 16, mentions of nightmares

lucifer

depends, but most of the times it's 1% since he's a light sleeper, he has to, so his brothers wouldn't burn the house down with any of their antics or so...

depends on the long working nights he pulls out for Diavolo's paperwork pushed on him. In this occasions he may become a 10% difficult to wake up.

his reaction may vary, since he's the one supposed to wake you and the rest of the brothers up, he'd be at first embarrased and surprised.

still, when he recognizes you, he relaxes for a brief moment and mutters a sleepy "thank you MC."

mammon

may be different from time to time.

the morning next to a horror special sleepover may lead to the both of your getting scared, so it's then a 3% difficult fully wake him up and a 10000% scary. why? Mammon would scream from your light touch on his shoulder to wake him and you'd scream because he did. It would go on like this for at least 2 more times in the same morning.

but when it had been a normal night or a casino one, he'd just whine at your attempts and he may have or have not tried more than once to pull you to bed and sleep again as if you were his sleeping pillow... so does it count as a 90% mostly?

leviathan

also depends as you can imagine.

when he, for some reason, does not watch anime or plays videogames 'till the alarm goes off, he may be a 1% difficult to wake. unlike Mammon, he'd get scared almost everytime. that you wake him. squeaking a little, he thanks and tells you he'll be ready in a moment.

although when he does sleep late, you'll find one of two sceneries; the most common of these being him still glued to the screen, headphones on, then you'll just have to take them off and he'll make a little sound surprised but won't budge further. the other one is him being fast asleep on his desk and the computer on, a bit of saliva on the corner of his lips threatening to fall.

those occasions it is recommendable to poke or shake just a little his shoulder and still you'll get a big reaction from him and that's it.

satan

i think he's kind of a heavy sleeper when he gets through the night reading. getting so engrossed on the story he even dreams with it and him being an active participant. then it'd be a 30% difficult to wake him.

your best shot to get him to open his eyes without being scared to dear life? scream from affar something that'd normally pick his interest. here are some examples:

"oh, Lucifer! did you just fall for that? i saw Satan make it! so his plan finally succeeded?!". now that it's a great one but you may have a more difficult time calming him down when you tell him that was a lie. "aww a little stray cat? sir what can I bring to you? oh? you want Satan to feed you? but he's asleep—" well he's not anymore and if it's true that a cat it's at the house's door expect to have a happy Satan for the rest of the day.

when he has a good night sleep, it's 1% difficult, normally he wouldn't miss any of their brothers or your shaking on his shoulder so that'd be enough.

asmodeus

to begin with, being the only one who has a more decent and planned sleep schedule, it's impressive how difficult it can be than his brothers. he's a 50% when sleeping 8 hours straight in the comfiest bed of the Devildom. this is because when he sees you, he starts whining and doing grabby hands to go to sleep with you now. oh, but if it is any of his brothers? "Asmo, you have to wake up, we have school—" "ok, going..."

but if he had a party night, it's a different story.

if he was not drunk and did a night routine at 5 a.m. to be awake at 6 or 7 a.m. it'd be a 20% difficult to get him, because he'd not be able to sleep quickly. so you'll end up hugging him to recharge him for the day. if he in fact, came drunk, it's a 60%, you'd find a semi-naked Asmo barely resting on the bed with make up all over the pastel-pink sheets. you better know if he had one of these night because Lucifer will not allow to bring him smelling like Demonus.

beelzebub

he normally has a good sleep because his work outs exhaust him after a big dinner plate he's a sleeping like a baby. for this he's 15% difficult to wake. light touches do nothing to him so you'd have to fully shake him to stir a reaction from him.

in the nights he has to go for a snack at 3 a.m. it decreases to a 7% because he could not stop thinking about going for another round of food. when he has a nightmare he's most likely to keep thinking about it for a complete day, so those days you'll find him awake by himself. ask him why has he been pacing out and looking really down with a snack on your hands.

belphegor

if he had a nightmare about his family in any way, from them dying, from him being trapped in the attic and fighting with Lucifer through the bars, to the day he killed you... he wouldn't be able to sleep again, so then it'll be a 2% difficult to wake. maybe he'd pout a little but it's his way to bring himself back to reality and see everyone's still alive and he's on his bed in his and Beel's room, so when you're not seeing, he sighs relaxed.

however, when he's having a good dream, it'd be 100% and might have to bring Beel to help you, wether it'd be waking him with his twins trust and playful tactics or carrying him around the house to get him to do something.

BONUS

the first time you're tasked to wake up Beelzebub, as you may have or not screamed when he turned to face you but still he did not open his eyes, you ran to get any other brother to help you.

[legendaryvermin]

So my home ttrpg group is between longform games right now, and I have been planning to bring a bunch of games to them this weekend as options for what we might play next. However, I have been trying to figure out how to talk about the games in a way that doesn't rely as much on me explaining the vibes to them.

I know that people have a bunch of qualitative categories for how they explain games, but I find the idea of saying things like Dark Fantasy OSR, or Lesbian Goofball PBTA less helpful when talking about how games actually play, especially when two games in the same category are like, wildly different in the way they use their frameworks.

So I invented a 6 axis, 1 to 5 star rating scale for TTRPGs that you are free to borrow when talking to groups, or whatever.

TTRPG 5 Star Rating Matrix

Width

What is the scope of this game? Is it narrowly about one thing or does it encompass many types of play? (Credit to friend of the blog @ostermad-blog for this one, they came up with it from my draft)

Weight

How much cognitive load does the player need to bear? Do rules often need to be referenced verbatim? Can those rules fit on a handout?

Wargame

Is the player expected to apply tactical acumen? Is movement tracked tightly or loosely? Does a bad build punish a player?

Writers Room

How much are players expected to make narrative choices and drive the story without the rules scaffolding them? Does this game fall apart without excellent improvisational storytellers?

(Prep)Work

Does this game require a lot of pre-planning by the facilitator? Are there intricate systems to attend to outside of table play? Can I put in the same amount of time as other players and still have everyone leave happy? 

Whimsy

Expected tone of the game. Does this game have difficult thematic elements baked in? Is the core subject or role in the game high or low risk?

Here are some games I know well and how I calibrated them:

I have breakdowns of what each star rating means below the cut if you're curious. Happy Gaming!

Width

⭐ - As written, the game has basically one mode of play, or one thematic core that it meditates on. May have phases, but textural difference is minimal.

⭐⭐ - As written, there are at least two modes of play, but the scope of that play is highly thematically focused or highly dependent on using the game’s own lore. Might have only one kind of character (e.g. Mech Pilot) that it supports. Has limited tools outside of the primary mode of play.

⭐⭐⭐ - Has a variety of modes of play, but may be rigid in their execution. Might encompass multiple kinds of characters (e.g. Doctor, Lawyer, fighter) or character options. The narratives that this game tells within its setting are narrowed, a three word description tells you what kind of stories it can tell with consistency.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Loose framework, but with some kind of thematic grounding. Describing the framework in 3 words doesn’t tell you the kind of stories that the game tells (e.g. Dark Fantasy, Star Wars Romp). 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- As written, this game is designed in such a way that it doesn’t put specific limits on what sorts of stories that it is meant to tell. It might ask players to define abilities or stats for themselves. The Facilitator is going to pitch a thematic grounding on top of the rules set.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Dialect, Honey Heist Five Star Examples: Fate Core, Savage Worlds, GURPS

Weight

⭐ - It is reasonable for a player to be able to recite the rules from memory. The game may be prompt based, or driven by a flow of rules that are read aloud as played.

⭐⭐ - Players can hold most of the most important information about the game in their heads, with a page or less of rules reference needed to play smoothly. This reference could all fit neatly on the character sheet if one is present.

⭐⭐⭐ - Everything a player needs to know about the game is visible on less than 3 sheets of reference. Players are more or less expected to know exactly how their own abilities work in precise detail, and are unlikely to make a mistake in executing them.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - Players make extensive use of multiple reference sheets to keep rules moving smoothly. No external tools are needed, but players memorizing the details of all of their abilities is taxing. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- Players and facilitators will prefer to make extensive use of external tools or reference to keep play moving smoothly. Expecting a player to have the exact details of their abilities memorized is not reasonable.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Stewpot, Mobile Frame Zero: Firebrands Five Star Examples: Dungeons and Dragons 3-5e, Lancer, Edge of the Empire

Wargame

⭐ - As written, this game does not treat combat as mechanically different from any other aspect of play, or does not include narrative violence at all.

⭐⭐ - While players may engage in combat, it is minimally different from regular play. There may be tools or abilities for players to use to conduct a fight, but the texture of those fights is thematic, not mechanical. Narrative and consequence drive the action, not hit points.

⭐⭐⭐ - As written, combat has its own set of rules. This game may have some elements of buildcrafting, but either it is difficult to build something that doesn’t work, or the player may meaningfully invest in other modes of play and still find a commensurate level of satisfaction. If combat occurs, spacing is kept in mind, but is tracked in relative terms (range bands) or highly simplified (zone based combat).

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This game has buildcrafting that is somewhat mandatory if players wish to survive a fight, but there is still a meaningful choice in choosing a non-combat role. It may use a grid or a spacing system to help players visualize the combat. Fights are driven by mechanics, not by narrative.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- To enjoy this game, players must spend time buildcrafting. If a player’s build is suboptimal, there may be significant parts of the intended experience that will either feel tedious, or that the player will not have meaningful access to. This game is played on a grid.

One Star Examples: Wanderhome, Dialect, Belonging Outside Belonging Five Star Examples: Lancer, Dungeons and Dragons 3-5e, Valor

Writers Room

⭐ - Players in this game are not expected to provide much in the way of narrative substance. Story is something that is driven by external input or tools, and players are there to imagine and react. The player need not separate the self from the character they play in any meaningful way.

⭐⭐ - The mechanics of this game drive most of the narrative, or else the narrative is set for the players by an external source or player. Players are encouraged to play optimally rather than dramatically, but do have room for expressing the identity of their character within the game’s mechanical frameworks.

⭐⭐⭐ - While the game does provide strong scaffolding to tell a story, the players present are expected to drive the story within those frameworks. The game’s systems create and resolve conflict on their own, but works best when the players are willing to choose the dramatically interesting option even if it mechanically non-optimal.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The game provides some mechanical tools that create and resolve drama, but there is a significant expectation that the players are buying into and driving the game’s thematic concepts. Players are the ones deciding what the scenes should be and when to end them, but mechanics still help determine outcomes.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- The players are expected to drive the narrative at all times. Tools for deciding what scenes to do and when to end them are limited, optional, or vague. There is no meaningful scaffolding that creates conflict or resolution, it is incumbent on those present to manifest those things.

One Star Examples: Alice is Missing, Ribbon Drive, For the Queen Five Star Examples: Wanderhome, Systemless RP

(Prep)Work

⭐ - Facilitators are not expected to do work outside the time at the table. All rules can be read while the game is played. No memorization is needed.

⭐⭐ - This game expects the facilitator to have read the rules in advance, but the rules are so few that they can be run from a single reference sheet. At times, the facilitator must think about and potentially advance and adjust the narrative of the game behind the scenes. Prep is qualitative; answering questions about where the narrative is going to go, who will be there etc. The game can be run smoothly predominantly as improv.

⭐⭐⭐ - This game expects the facilitator to not only know the rules, but to imagine scenarios where the group must play. However, the scope of the scenario design is limited and qualitative. It takes a bit of pondering and perhaps a sketch and a few words of notes. Alternatively, the facilitator must design simple foes or track a simple background system. The work is trivial, and can be done with a bit of time before session.

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - The facilitator of this game is expected to have run systems between games, or created usable maps or scenarios. Generally, games at this level have some reduced wargaming component. The facilitator might need to engage in enemy design, but the work is limited or imminently reusable. The work is non-trivial, and failing to do it will somewhat impact the quality of play.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- The facilitator of this game puts in significant time between sessions engaging in game design activities. They are expected to plan narratives, write NPCs, draw maps, run significant background systems, and design enemies and combat encounters. The work is significant outside of play, and failing to do it beforehand will result in a worse table experience.

One Star Examples: For the Queen, Alley-Oop, Lasers and Feelings Five Star Examples: Lancer, D&D 3-5e, Stars Without Number, Edge of the Empire

Whimsy

⭐ - This game’s thematic core is considered dark, taboo, or difficult, and separating the game’s mechanical features from this subject matter is next to impossible. Games with horror elements almost certainly fit within this category. These games encourage extensive pre-play safety talks.

⭐⭐ - This game is designed to look at dark subject matter, but doesn’t expect the player to spend all of their time there. Players explore difficult topics, but may get to choose what topics to explore, or when to explore them. Games with political messaging/commentary tend to fit this category. These games encourage pre-play safety talks.

⭐⭐⭐ - This game may have dark aesthetics, but doesn’t enforce them mechanically. Alternatively, there are mechanics that address difficult topics in broad strokes, but players are given leeway in the rules with how any difficult topics are approached. These games may encourage safety talks. 

⭐⭐⭐⭐ - This game may have the option to explore dark topics, but none of the mechanics are tied to such topics. This game may have violence in its aesthetics, but players may choose to adjust the aesthetics at the table to suit their comfort. These games tend not to talk about safety in their text.

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐- This game is designed to focus on thematic material that is considered to be relatively safe. The game is unlikely to tread into violence or trauma without effort.

One Star Examples: Trophy Dark, Dungeon Bitches, Vampire the Masquerade Five Star Examples: Honey Heist, Princess World, Beach Episode

The system here isn't about what's good or bad, to be clear. I think there are good and bad games at every level of these categories, but when I think about what my game group is good at and comfy with, I don't think we go in for things at like the 5 end of the Writers Room scale. It's too much work, and most of them aren't pro improvisers.

Similarly, if we play another game that is a 4 or 5 on the PrepWork category, I don't have time to run it these days. So this helps me make practical choices about our next game.

[sleepyorchidmonster]

Okay, but what if Riddle attempts to fight Malleus alone to buy Idia some time?

Like, we know Riddle is both reckless and confident in his power, also, if timed correctly, Off With Your Head can be make a difference in a fight, and even Leona was having trouble with it (granted it was normal not-overblotted Leona and this is Malleus we're talking about).

It can also play with the reveal that Riddle thinks everyone hates him, so he convinces himself that the least he could do is make sure Idia stays safe, both for the mission and Ortho (and maybe he's feeling guilty because last he checked Ortho required urgent repairs and it's his fault). Or maybe Riddle just feels like his lack of understanding of technomancy is not being helpful enough andhe is eager to actually do something right (he doesn't understand the situation and, as far as he can tell, everything went wrong after his dream).

And then Idia has to stop his doomed typing with a side of panicked ramblings to take a deep breath and tell the 17-year-old kid to "Calm Down. We're not dead yet, and I'm not letting you go on a suicide mission."

And before Riddle can make a counter-argument, Idia is already following up with some extra points:

1) "Yeah we're both housewardens and troublemaking SSRs. I'm also older so I'm supposed to be the responsible one here."

2) "Technomancy is my domain, so if I say you're doing okay, you're doing okay. It's natural for veteran players to carry the noobs when they're just starting out!"

3) "You're a powerful DPS, but you're also a glass canon. Meta dictates that good DPS units need great supports, and I'm trying to summon them with negative gacha pulls and a dream here!!!!"

4) "If we open the door to let you fight Malleus, then the door will have been opened anyway, and that guy can multitask like a PRO..."

5) "You know chess right? Great. We're currently in check, with the only thing between total anihilation being a Rook (A.K.A. my precious door) and the Queen (A.K.A. you). The lil' pawns may have metamorphosized into a murderous army, but there's still a whole board between us, so we have to hold on!!!"

6) "And before you get the chess analogy wrong, I am NOT keeping you around just because of your magical power. You're a TEENAGER not a weapon, for crying out loud. Did you really think I'd be that stupid?? Ortho is literally my brother and I'd rather DIE than treat him like a weapon!"

7) "Is it really that hard to understand that I don't actually hate you? Sure, you have zero E.Q. and is in my "Top 5 Most annoying Students in NRC", but I don't want you dead! Who would drag me to dormhead meetings then? Vil and Ortho need a buddy who's not afraid to break the doo- NOT NOW MALLEUS"

8) "I actually like being alive and don't want Trey and Cater to kill me, and neither that freaky cat friend of yours. Or Floyd, Kalim, Sebek, Silver, Vil..."

Idia: And that would be all! Thank you for coming to my TED Talk! Now, I know the Final Boss is right outside that door, but why don't you read a manga or two to pass the time? You've already helped me A LOT, so why don't you rest a bit?

Malleus, from the other side: You should listen to Shroud, Rosehearts. I will even refrain from tearing the door down while you read, rest assured!

Malleus: Also, who gave you the idea that everyone hates you? I just want to have a pleasant chat with them! Lillia taught me the importance of understanding the point of view of others! :)

Meanwhile the others are trying to use Meet Me in a Dream while driving a gigantic Blastcycle so they can speedrun the dream hopping and get back to Idia's dream so they can make sure Idia is okay (Ortho), complete the final stage of the plan (the others) and locate Riddle (Heartslabyul and Equestrian Club mostly, but everyone's at least worried that he's MIA). Also Silver is resting while Ace uses his UM and Deuce drives.

Leona got what he wanted (a better mean of transportation between dreams) but at what cost (two freshmen at the wheel, and they're not the competent robot kid).

[seriesxwriting]

Hi! Can I ask for Damon Salvatore and the female reader where Damon follows the female reader because he is jealous like about Elena in episode 7 of season 6 in Withmore Medical Center Fundraiser

Thank you for the request, sorry for the wait I’ve had a lot of these to get through, I hope you enjoy the read <3!!

She’s mine she just doesn’t know it yet

Series: The vampire diaries

Pairing: Damon Salvatore x Female Reader

Summary: Request ❤️

Warnings: kissing, little bit of fighting, erm drinking?

Ring Ring

I walked over to my bed in my towel as I twisted my hair up in another. Damon was ringing. My forehead wrinkled wondering what he wanted, so I reached over and picked it up.

“Hello?” I answered taking a seat now on the bed.

“Ello ello, you alright?” Damon answered, the sounds in the background of his call made it obvious he was driving his car. I laughed at how he’d answered the phone.

“I’m fine, how are you?” I answered back shaking my head a little while smiling too myself.

“I’ll be great in about twenty minutes when I come and pick you up”. He responded without a question in sight. My brows knitted together.

“Damon- I can’t, I’m busy tonight” I told him as I felt my forehead sweat a little. I probably would have preferred hanging out with Damon.

“Busy? Doing what?” He questioned, his tone changing completely.

“I uh- I’ve been invited to a dance outside of town- it’s nothing major just a charity thing” I told him trying to play it down a little.

“A dance? Out of town? By who?” He asked all very quickly. I sighed deeply taking a long breath in.

“A boy i met recently, his name is Liam” I admitted, though I didn’t want to. I didn’t want Damon to get the wrong end of the stick, Liam was lovely but he wasn’t Damon. I just didn’t want him to think it was a date, I didn’t want either of them to think it was a date.

“So you’re going on a date?” He quizzed sounding a little taken back.

“No- I- I don’t know what it is, I’m just going out with a friend for the night” I told him, unsure of how he was going to take it.

“Alright” he eventually said after a few moments of silence.

“I have to go… I have to finish getting ready” I told him with a smile he obviously couldn’t see.

“I’ll see you later, enjoy your night” he told me a little plainly. Anyone could have seen through that.

“Thanks- goodbye” I replied sounding a little defeated myself.

I didn’t want him to find out what I was doing this evening. Especially not like this. He had plans for us, I could only imagine what we were going to get up to. I put my phone back on charge and carried on getting dressed. And tried not to think too much about Damon.

Not so long after, Liam was knocking at my door coming to pick me up. He was in a suit and had a wide smile across his face. “You look- outstanding” he blinked gazing upon me as if I was a god.

“Not too bad you’re self” I giggled coming out of the door and locking it. “I’m excited to spend this time with you” he put his arm out even though we were just going to his car. I gave him a warm smile and took hold of his bicep. “It’ll be fun, plus I love a dance, and for a great cause” I shrugged. Liam chucked and opened my car door for me.

The ride to the dance was quite a long journey, it was at least half an hour forty minutes away. At times the silence was a little awkward but we managed to fill it with laughter. But I think it was mainly my fault. I was only half in the car, the other half of me was still sat on that bed talking to Damon.

When we arrived Liam again put his arm out and we entered the building. The decorations were amazing, there were lights everywhere, a huge display of champagne glasses all stacked up on each other, chandeliers drooping from the ceiling. “It’s gorgeous in here” I gazing completely amazed by all the work put in.

“It gets bigger every year as more people recognise it” Liam told me, but he wasn’t looking at all the details, he was staring at me. I blushed under his eyes and he chucked. “You do look incredible tonight” he told me taking my hand in his. “Such polysyllabic words tonight” I raised an eyebrow trying to brush the compliment under the rug. “What can I say, straight A student” he brush off imagine dust off his shoulder making me laugh.

“Would you like to come meet my parents, they’re over there” he subtly nodding to the side of the room. But when I looked closer I realised that they weren’t alone, they were talking to another man. And that man was none other than Damon Salvatore. What the hell was he doing here- and how he look so handsome in a suit. I was going to need a drink for this.

“Why don’t you grab us some drinks first and then we can head over” I tilted my head pleading him with my eyes so that he couldn’t say no. “Now you’re getting the hang of it” he chucked rubbing my arm before heading off. As I turned around, Damon was standing in front of me. I jumped slightly, my eyes widening. “what the hell are you doing here” I hissed while pitching my eyebrows together.

“Coming to support- childline?” Damon looked around for any signs of what the charity was for. “It’s a disability charity” I shook my head trying to contain my laugh. “How’d you even get in, you weren’t on the list” “I’m a vampire y/n, I don’t need a list” he looked at me like I was stupid and to be fair it was a stupid question. “Well how did you know where I was?” I put my hands on my hips.

“Oh that part was pretty mundane I just tracked your phone” he shrugged his shoulders. I sighed taking a deep breath in not knowing what to do in this situation. “Oh look your dates coming back” his eyes gleamed at the new material as Liam came holding two drinks.

“Hello, I don’t believe I’ve seen you here you must be a new member” Liam smiled completely oblivious to the fact that Damon was about to eat him alive. He passed me my drink of white wine, to which I held my tongue for. “Damon Salvatore, newest member of- the charity” he looked at me side ways and raised his eyes “disability really is hard” “yes, it can make the simplest so difficult, that’s why we work to raise money to help fund an easier life for those who suffer with disability” Liam nodded, he seemed really proud of what he did.

I smelt the white wine as they were talking but decided against taking a sip. Damon saw what was doing and tutted. “You do know, y/n doesn’t like white wine right?” He shook his head condescendingly. “Damon” I whispered in horror. “Oh- I didn’t know- have you two already met?” “Oh me and y/n go way back, don’t we” he smiled a little psychotically.

“We have- mutual friends” I smiled awkwardly at Liam who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. “Oh come on it’s more than that” Damon rolled his eyes really enjoying this. “What are you doing” I hissed at him dangerously. “So uh did you two come together?” Damon asked Liam turning back to him. “Yeah, y/n is my date” he nodded. I almost choked on the air.

I coughed into my hand as they both stared at me. “We didn’t actually clarify w…” but Damon cut me off. “That’s amazing im so happy for you both, it’s nice to know y/n is with a man who can’t even get her drink right” Damon patted Liam on the chest. “Is there a problem?” Liam stepped a little close to Damon, with a serious face slapped across his own. “You tell me?” Damon chuckled turning to me after “confident this one huh” he wriggled his eyebrows.

“Damon” I whispered begging him not to cause any problems. “You need to leave us alone, or there will be a problem” Liam gritted his teeth together. He put his drink on a near by table as if he was getting ready for a fight. I didn’t know what to do. “You know… Im just not convinced you’re right for her you know? I feel like I’m a good judge of character and- you’re just not cutting it” Damon told him, again being overly condescending.

“Who says you have a right to decide that?” Liam laughed, but I watched as that just pissed Damon off more. “I do” he shoved Liam, not too hard but he still stumbled back a little. With that Liams whole face changed and he swung for Damon. He ducked it not even having to think about it and shoved him again. Just making him more and more angry. Liam tried to punch him again but Damon blocked it and push him a little harder making him fall onto the floor.

“Stop it!” I called out noticing everyone was watching. “Damon outside now!” I pointed to the doors. Liam stood up from the floor and slipped his arm around my waist. Damon scowled at us both before turning around and leaving through the doors. “What a prick” Liam exclaimed once Damon was gone. “I’m gonna go talk to him” I weaved my way out of his arm. “Why? Just let him be he’s gone now” “because I lied- we’re friends- we’re more than that liam we’re close- I need to find out what his problem is”.

Liams eyes looked sad, as if he knew he’d already lost. “Okay” he finally answered taking a step back from me. I gave him a small sympathetic smile, because when it came to Damon I knew Liam always lost too. I fluttered out of the doors and into the cold night. I saw Damon sitting on one of the fences looking up at the night. I wondered over to him coming in front and resting my arms on his knees. “Damon” “I’m sorry” he told me automatically before he even looked at me. He was now. I could see he was sorry.

It was written all over his face. “I am” “I can see that…” I sighed getting a little closer to him. “Why are you sorry” “for coming, I should have just let you enjoy your date and if you picked him then..” he shrugged his shoulders looking back up to the moon. “What- do you mean if I picked him?” I stuttered feeling my throat go dry. “Hm, I suppose that is confusing, I would have had to make myself an option for you to pick him”.

I blinked in disbelief. Is he saying he came here to pick a fight with Liam- because he was jealous? “If you were an option Damon, i wouldn’t be here..” I replied in a small voice. His head turned to mine at the speed of light. “I am an option- maybe not a very good one- I’m a jealous, headstrong, stupid option but- I am one”. I chuckled to myself brushing my thumbs over his knees. “You’re the only option I want” I whispered looking down at the floor.

Damon jumped down from sitting on the fence, yet still towered over me. He lifted my head up with his pointy finger so I was looking into his eyes. “All this time I was jealous of these boys looking at you, talking to you, dating you- and all this time, really you liked me?”. I nodded my head as goosebumps traveled all up my skin under his touch. “Hmm- well we’ve wasted a lot of time then” Damon told me making my laugh.

“We can make up for it” I brushed my hands up his arms feeling his biceps, which were much bigger than Liams. “Might as well start now then” Damon smiled pulling me in for a kiss.

Finally, heaven.

All series masterlist

Masterlist of masterlists

Damon Salvatore masterlist

The vampire diaries masterlist

[lightseoul]

Congratulations!!! 🎉🎊 How about #5? 🫣

thank you, love! tagging also @tsunderelover07; thank you for playing <3

(this is lightseoul's 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i'll whip something up!)

warnings. includes themes concerning depression; negative affect in general. read at your own risk.

5. "I'M NOT LEAVING SO GET USED TO ME." (1.3k)

ever since who-knows-when, the goal has always been simple.

pain alleviation.

at least, in theory, it sounds simple. when you think about it, it’s nothing like the seemingly insurmountable task of getting a master’s degree, neither is it as grandiose as finally finding a partner and settling down.

but for someone like you?

well, it’s the best you can muster on most if not all, days, really.

and today’s a textbook example of that.

you squint at the small text displayed on your phone screen, the blue light hurting your eyes in the darkness that’s enveloping the entirety of your studio unit. the clock reads 6:08 PM, but the lack of light cannot be credited to the sun’s waning presence—your black-out curtains have been drawn since, what… yesterday?

the past few days have gone by in a complete blur, you’ve lost track of which day it is.

you’re about to put your phone down in favor of stewing in your bed and debating whether or not you have the energy to order yourself some dinner when your phone chimes its familiar ringtone, indicating a text message.

picking it up, you recognize the id right away.

(6:09 PM) katsuki💥: Omw. Want me to pick anything up by the store?

shit.

now you know it’s a friday.

mustering the little strength you have left, you type out a reply as quickly as you can. before you can think twice about what you just wrote down, you hit send.

(6:10 PM) you: actually, can i take a rain check? i don’t think i’m the best company rn.

sighing, you finally place your device beside you, opting to stare at the off-white ceiling.

you hope bakugou actually listens to you for once and doesn’t press like he usually does. when you first met him in the same agency you both interned for three years ago, you instantly caught wind of how mind-bogglingly stubborn the guy is. but it wasn’t until you became great friends, strangely enough, that you realized the extent of his tenacity. you never thought you’d end up being best friends with the budding hero you found yourself disliking since day—

your train of thought is rudely interrupted by your stomach growling, and you decide then and there that the one thing you can do to alleviate your pain for today is to feed yourself.

you repress the urge to groan in pain as you slowly sit up and move to shimmy your feet into your slippers.

but you don’t even get to reach your kitchen when the telltale sound of your lock clicking echoes through your foyer, almost instantly followed by the door bursting wide open.

you know you should be alarmed, but there’s only one person who can and has the audacity to use your sole spare key without your explicit permission.

still, you don’t fight the frown that takes over your face as you haul yourself to the doorway, watching the man closely as he toes off his trainers and puts them neatly beside your everyday sandals, nonchalant as ever.

“i thought i told you i’m taking a rain check,” you immediately cringe at how rough your voice sounds from unuse.

bakugou stands upright, placing what looks like a bag of groceries on top of your kitchen counter before rounding you and approaching the windows like he owns the place.

“you asked me if you can,” he shoots back as he opens your curtains. “the answer is no.”

a familiar surge of anger pulses through your body. you clench your fists in an attempt to ground yourself—you know from experience that mouthing off on your best friend would do nothing to lessen your pain even if it seems oh-so appealing at the moment.

“…well, don’t expect me to host you. i actually had other plans tonight.”

“is that so?” comes his signature snarky reply, the man turning to regard you. “does your plan include starving yourself ‘til you fall asleep?”

your frown deepens. “i was just about to order dinner before you showed up.” you debate for a second whether you should say the next thing, ultimately deciding fuck it. “now i don’t have an appetite anymore.”

that was a blatant lie. you’re famished, but he doesn’t need to know that. you just needed to be alone right now.

bakugou’s face hardens at your retort. his jaw clenches ever so slightly, in a way that tells you he’s trying to be patient but is getting frustrated.

when he doesn’t say anything, you shuffle back to your bed and sit on the edge of it, ready to wait him out on his exit.

but bakugou katsuki isn’t anything if not stubborn.

“i heard from mina you called in sick again today,” comes his gruff voice.

damn your closest girl friend turned co-worker and her running mouth.

“so?”

bakugou sighs from where he’s now standing in front of and looking at you. “how many leaves do you have left?”

at the mention of it, your stomach drops in dread. an all-too-familiar pulse of anxiety also shoots through your veins. “…two.”

two sick leaves left, and it’s only motherfucking july.

silence befalls the two of you, but it’s not the comfortable kind that usually lulls you both whenever you’re alone in each other’s presence. no, this quiet is borderline irritating, and you can practically hear the gears turning in the man’s head as he processes the fact you’ve been trying to grapple with yourself for the last few weeks now.

the fact that you’re absolutely fucked.

before he can comment on your situation or say anything uselessly placating, you pipe up. “but don’t worry about me. i know you have a lot on your plate right now.”

at that, bakugou scoffs, and your features instinctively contort in annoyance at the sound.

you’re trying to be nice, for god’s sake. something that takes so much of you lately when it used to come naturally your whole life.

you purse your lips in a tight line. “look, if you’re just gonna keep on being an asshole, it’s better if you just leave.”

instead of turning a 180 and giving you your solitude, however, bakugou crouches down on his knees until you’re face to face.

you suddenly become acutely aware of the fact that you haven’t washed your face nor brushed your teeth since yesterday. despite your exasperation with the guy, you hope he doesn’t notice.

if he is noticing, though, he doesn’t mention it. instead, he reaches out and uncharacteristically gently brushes out a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“i’m not leaving, so get used to me.”

with that, he moves to stand up and maybe make his way to the kitchen to cook you dinner, but your reflexes work fast enough for you to grab his wrist before he's out of reach.

bakugou freezes in his tracks, eyes drifting from the grip you have on him to your face, a confused expression etched on his features.

“…just leave, kats,” you barely manage to get out, unable to meet his gaze. “i’m really not the best company right now.”

you brace yourself for another scoff over which you were absolutely going to smack him, but it doesn’t come. instead, bakugou merely coaxes his wrist from your hold before clasping your hands together.

you look up at your best friend, stunned at the rare gesture.

his face is solemn and grip firm when he replies. “don’t i get to be the judge of that?”

[rebornofstars]

SEPFEMBER 2024 PROMPTS LIST

HERE WE ARE! AT LONG LAST! THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN (HOPEFULLY) WAITING FOR! GIRL MONTH!

I honestly can't believe this is actually happening. This event was a shower thought a few months ago.

Here's a recap of the event: to participate, make at least one fanwork of any variety during September that features a woman or women from the Zelda franchise as the main character/s. All Linksmeets are welcome in this challenge, as well as general LoZ fans!

Before I drop the prompts list for those who are looking for a little direction, I'd like to mention that I have made an AO3 COLLECTION FOR THIS EVENT. It's open and unmoderated so you can add your works to it freely. And if you post on tumblr, please tag #sepfember !! I'll be scrolling through the tag every day looking for things to reblog and gush about 👀

If you have any questions at all about this event, or you want to chat about it, my askbox is open! I will also respond to comments and reblogs of this post.

Now, onto the prompts. Disclaimer: you DON'T have to use all/any of these prompts, or only create things for certain characters on their featured day. This list is just a GUIDE for those who want it. If you have other plans, go with your heart!

At the end of the day, this is a celebration, and all that matters is that you have fun. I hope some of you will join me next month in giving our girls some time in the spotlight, but if you can't, that's okay! There's no pressure! This is just a passion project of mine, really, and I am overjoyed that people are interested 💛💛💛

(apologies in advance for the terrible quality of these pics and the equally terrible commentary. i thought it would be funny. also, i've never had to come up with a prompts list before and it shows.)

DAY 1: SKYWARD SWORD ZELDA + PURPOSE

(we start at the beginning of course 💛)

DAY 2: MARIN + WASH

(it was SO hard to find a screenshot of her that didn't have link in it. they're both cute but this ain't about him.)

DAY 3: MEDLI + GIFT

(i didn't know she played the harp until i saw this screenshot! i obviously have a lot to learn.)

DAY 4: TWILIGHT PRINCESS ZELDA + FREEZE

(how creepy does she look here?! so awesome)

DAY 5: HILDA + GHOST

(SUCH a good character for real. she has depth!!!! she has a thematic purpose!!!)

DAY 6: URBOSA + LOSE

(two words: LIGHTNING POWERS ⚡⚡⚡)

DAY 7: SPIRIT TRACKS ZELDA + MISTAKE

(babygirl you are 2 entire pixels.)

DAY 8: FI + ORDER

(oh she is everything to me)

DAY 9: MIDNA + SWORD

(she looks so soulful right now)

DAY 10: HYRULE WARRIORS ZELDA + SUMMON

(what a FIRE camera angle??? her armour is so impractically attached but SHE HAS A SWORD‼️)

DAY 11: GODDESSES OF HYRULE + EYES

(hylia, din, nayru, farore, the list goes on...)

DAY 12: ZORA PRINCESSES + TRUST

(mipha, ruto... poor suckers... it can't be fun, falling for link...)

DAY 13: OCARINA OF TIME ZELDA | SHEIK + FATE

(note: I personally hc this character as a trans man, but since this isn't explicitly confirmed in-game and might not be shared with everyone, I've given them a celebration day anyway. you are free to do what you wish.)

DAY 14: MALON + GUARD

(she is adorable. look at her)

DAY 15: IMPA + BOUND

(HOTTEST MOST SEXY MOST BADASS WOMAN IN THE FRANCHISE ‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE YOU IMPA YOU ARE PERFECT. SHUT UP I DEFINITELY DON'T PLAY FAVOURITES—)

DAY 16: FOUR SWORDS ADVENTURES ZELDA + PORTAL

(i loved her in the fsa manga. she's barely in it but STILL. go read it.)

DAY 17: FAIRIES + TIRED

(the great fairies, navi, ciela, tatl, proxi...)

DAY 18: TETRA + LEGACY

(isn't she KICKASS?!)

DAY 19: EPONA + BONE

(our lovely loyal girl 🥰)

DAY 20: A LINK BETWEEN WORLDS ZELDA + HOME

(SHE IS SUCH A GOOD PARALLEL TO HILDA PLEASSSSSE)

DAY 21: SARIA + WISH

(a classic character! isn't this picture so peaceful)

DAY 22: BOTW/AOC/TOTK ZELDA + PEACE

(SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME. SCREAMING CLAWING CRYING. MY DARLING, YOUR FANARTISTS WERE THE ONES TO DRAW ME INTO THE ZELDA FANDOM. I HOPE I CAN RETURN THE FAVOUR ONE DAY)

DAY 23: CIA + LANA + STUDY

(technically, she's one person. between the two of them they certainly only wear enough clothes for one person... )

DAY 24: ARYLL + HUG

(sister to the hero! but what's her story?)

DAY 25: ECHOES OF WISDOM ZELDA + ARREST

(YEAHHHHHHHHH GIRL MONTH GIRL DAY GIRL GAME!!!)

DAY 26: CD-i ZELDA + HOLIDAY

(hehheehehehe. i bet you weren't expecting her. neither was i tbh)

DAY 27: PURAH + FIRE

(SHE'S CLEVER! I LOVE CLEVER WOMEN!)

DAY 28: ILIA + ERUNE + MEND

(listen. i know erune is a very niche character - she literally only exists in the four swords manga - but consider. i love her)

DAY 29: ALTTP/OOS/OOA/LA ZELDA + MISSING

(she has no canon personality. you know what that means. get the building equipment out fellas)

DAY 30: LINKLE + FAREWELL

(and here we are - LAST DAY!)

THE END! YAY! I CAN'T WAIT FOR SEPTEMBER - CAN YOU?

[no-phrogs-in-hats]

Sweet as Sugarcane

Chapter 5: The Constellation Andromeda

Agatha Harkness x Fem!reader Old West/Oregon Trail AU

Word count: 2,605

Summary: As a New York politician's daughter, you're accustomed to a way of life that many people aren't privy to. But after your mother dies and your father sells everything, the only life you see ahead is on a dusty, deserted trail out west--until you meet Agatha.

Warnings: minor physical violence, blood, alcohol, and of course internalized homophobia

Spotify playlist here

Ao3 here

Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 |

Water splashes your face as you beat your sodden clothes against a rock–just one of the many chores you’ve done since waking up this morning. The women around you do the same, chattering away with each other, but you’re quiet.

You’re very quiet.

You wipe the water and sweat from your forehead and huff. Your mind is going a thousand miles an hour. So much has happened within the past two-and-half days. From the wagon breaking and then one of the mules falling sick, and now…Agatha.

She hasn’t left your dreams. She’s stuck in your head. You had hoped the dream would’ve been the only one, but last night after your afternoon spent with her–the lingering touch on your back, her voice low and breathy in your ear, the heat that spread your face when she smiled at you–all you could do was imagine falling asleep in her arms. 

And now, after her informal invite to see her at the saloon again, you were almost panicking. Between the night guards at the encampment and having to sneak off, your stomach is in knots.

But you’re aching to go. You’re aching to see her again, even if it pains you. Even if it makes you want to crawl out of your skin from shame.

And what if your mother is watching you? What if she’s watching you make every mistake that would bring shame upon the family if you were caught? It kills you to think you’re disappointing her, the woman who you admired so much, and who, even a year after her death, you’re still trying to make proud. 

“Just be happy, my dear.”

“And whatever you choose to do with your life, I could not be prouder of you.”

But would she be proud?

Would she still want you to be happy if it was in the arms of a woman? A woman who’s treated you better than any man has–or any other woman for that matter.

Do you bring shame to her grave as much as you bring shame to yourself?

It hurts. It’s excruciating. But, oh, how it hurts so good. 

The day drags on, and by the time you’re done with the laundry, it’s only midday. The men in the group have been all up in arms after you and your brothers returned empty-handed, but the information that the woodworker could have the new axle done in less that two weeks placated them a bit.

Everyone had pained looks on their faces when they realized you’d be here for at least a week. Even you played along, but deep down–not even deep, it was surface level–you couldn’t have been happier. Walks to the town for supplies could now be a daily endeavor, and with a saloon so close by, the men are guaranteed to be there tomorrow night. The women in the other groups barely acknowledge you, and if your father and brothers are off with ome of them, it’d be fairly easy to sneak off..

By dinner, you’re becoming more antsy–like sneaking off was no longer a theory but an actual plan you’re going to act on. And for her, you might just do that.

The sun sets sowly and at nine, you climb into the wagon with your littlest brother, tucking him in tight with a blanket. You stay with him by the lantern, reading while you wait for him to fall asleep. The voices of men by the fire carry to your ears and you’re suddenly hyperaware of every noise around you–the whisper of rustling brush against the wagon, your brother’s soft breathing, the chirping of crickets of the dark Wyoming night. 

When your brother’s breathing evens out and his jaw slacks enough that his lips part in his sleep, you carefully shuffle along the floor of the wagon. Your breath is shallow and quiet and after you drop slowly to the ground, you reach for the lantern and lower the fuel to dim the light.

With your heart pounding, you look back to make sure no one can see you. When you’re certain there’s no one to spot you, you hurry off with light footing, using the brush as cover. Your hair, no longer contained in a bonnet, flows freely in the summer breeze.

You use the light of the lantern to guide you when you’re far enough from the camp. Knowing you’re late, you walk quickly through the dry grass and rocky terrain. The town approaches quickly and you can feel your heart jump to your throat.

When you’re close enough, you can just barely read the churchbell clock. It’s almost eleven but the town is glowing with life. You hurry forward on the path that winds through scattered log houses and make your way into town.

You can hear the rabble in the saloon before you even get there, and when you do arrive, you spot Agatha immediately. She laughs loudly at a poker table and knocks back the rest of her whiskey before tossing her winning hand of cards onto the table. 

As she reaches for the pile of biddings in the center she pauses and looks at you. You can just barely hear her over the sound of the piano and other patrons dancing and laughing, but you can make out, “I had fun, gentlemen, but I’ll leave the rest of the night to you.” 

When she pockets the money, she stands up and crosses the room, a sly smile on her lips. “Thought I wasn’t gonna see you tonight, sweetheart. Let’s get you a drink.”

Her hand comes to your lower back and you want to melt. She guides you over to the bar and orders two whiskeys, handing you yours with a clink of your glasses.

“What took you so long?” she teases. 

You smile back, “It’s quite hard sneaking out of a camp with twenty people.”

“You snuck out, huh?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and taking a sip of her whiskey. “I guess you were right. You aren’t a good Christian girl…”

After your first drink, you’re less tense, and when the fiddler begins to accompany the pianist, Agatha offers her hand. “Care to dance?”

You set your second glass of whiskey and hesitate, “Well, I’ve never–I don’t know how to dance,” you chuckle. “Not like this.”

“That’s no problem, darlin’,” Agatha reassures you. “Just follow my lead. You’ll do great.”

You take her hand and she drags you to the center of saloon where men and women dance together. It all happens quickly. When her right hand drifts to your waist you can feel that pit in your stomach form. Your own hand goes to her arm and you hold on tightly as the quickstep begins. 

You squeal and laugh with her as she guides you around the room. She holds you close and you’re hyperaware of the way her hands tighten on your waist and in your grasp. You’re out of breath and your face burns from how hot it is inside the saloon.

Bargoers that aren’t dancing stand on the sidelines and clap along to the rhythm of the music. When you look up at her face, she has the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. The crows feet at her eyes crinkle with her laughs and here, in her arms, in the warmth of the saloon, you feel safe. 

When the music finally stops, you clap with the other people, catching your breath but unable to stop laughing. You’re brought back to the bar with Agatha’s hand still on your lower back.

You laugh into your glass as she takes a sip of hers, “I’ve never danced like that before!”

Agatha giggles, “You certainly seem to be having fun.”

When you open your mouth to respond, you’re shoved harshly into Agatha and feel the wet splash of beer in your hair and down your back. You gasp and Agatha moves you behind her protectively. 

When she confronts the man responsible, there’s clear anger in her eyes but he looks entirely unbothered. “Are you going to apologize?” she asks for the second time.

“What are you–gonna–do about it, bitch?” he slurs, and then drunkenly spits right on her boot.

With no hesitation, her fist meets his jaw where a rough beard is growing in. He’s on the ground instantly and the bar patrons step back quickly with gasps and murmurs. Your hands are over your mouth as he lies on the floor motionless and you look from him to Agatha. 

“Agatha, what–?” She shakes out her hand, seething at the pain, and you notice the blood on her knuckles. “You’re bleeding!”

“I’m fine,” she scoffs, brushing you off. “Let’s go.”

She tips back the rest of her whiskey and slams the glass back down, taking your hand and weaving through the crowd. The cool night air hits you and you can finally breathe again.

“Agatha, you’re bleeding!” you say again. “Please, let me help. You need to clean–!”

She stops walking and huffs. “Fine,” she says, still heated from the interaction with the man. When she realizes her tone and sees the worried look in your eyes, her shoulders relax and her voice softens. “There’s a water pump not too far down here.”

At the water pump, you sit Agatha down on a wooden bench and rip a piece of your underskirt off. You pump the water and reach for her hand, running it under the cold water. Your fingers massage the knuckles and wash the blood off, and you hear Agatha’s breath stutter. You can feel her eyes on you and you keep your head down, focusing on washing the wound. When the blood is cleaned from her skin, you take the piece of cloth from your skirt and tie it around her knuckles. 

When you look up from her hand you meet eyes and she smiles softly. Her voice is quiet and she squeezes the hand that’s in hers, “Well, don’t you make a fine nurse, sugar.”

Your heart swells and your throat tightens with tears. Agatha notices the second your expression changes and her words are nothing but concerned, “What’s the matter, sweetheart? Is it something I said?”

“It’s nothing,” you sniffle, smiling as you remember what your mother told you. “It’s just…my mama said almost the exact same thing to me before…” You trail off, somehow not able to utter those words.

“Before?”

“She…before she passed on,” you finally say. “She was sick…last year. The doctor said it was typhus. I stayed by her side the whole month.” You avert your eyes and your words are watery, “I don’t think I slept a wink the entire time.”

Her smile is sad and you know she’s trying to figure out what to say, but instead of offering her condolences like the rest of the parrots in New York society, she says, “Can I show you something?”

You smile and nod, “Of course.”

Agatha leads you back to the saloon and to a tall, brown horse tied out front. She climbs on and reaches her hand out, “Well, climb on up, hon! Let’s go!”

You take her hand–warm and soft–and slip your boot into the stirrup, climbing onto the horse and sitting behind Agatha. When she lets go of your hand, you almost find yourself missing it, but you don’t dwell on it, because she says, “Hold on tight, sugar.”

And you do. You wrap your arms around her waist and hold onto her tightly. She turns the horse to the right and soon, the town is growing small behind you. 

You’re galloping on a dirt path now, avoiding trees and brush, and the whole time you’re smiling into Agatha’s shoulder. You can smell the musk on her leather jacket, woody and masculine, and so comforting. 

You’ve tried so hard to keep this feeling down. To stop thinking of her in this way, to stop dreaming of being in her arms, and to stop looking at her lips and imagining what they’d taste like. But now your arms are wrapped around her waist, and she’s taking you through the plateaus of the Wyoming territory. And you now know, that no matter how many times you try to push them down, there’s no getting rid of your feelings for Agatha Harkness.

After the horse slowly comes to a halt, Agatha hops down first and then helps you. She holds you close when you get down and you have to force yourself to separate. 

“It’s quiet,” you murmur. And it’s true. The only sound is the buzzing of cicadas and the chirping of crickets, with the occasional swishing of the horse’s tail as it grazes.

Agatha sighs contentedly, “It is.”

The view from the hill is amazing. In the distance you can see the town, still lit up with revelry, and behind that, the Black Hills on the horizon. You’re speechless, almost emotional with how vast the world before you is. “This is extraordinary, Agatha.”

You can feel her behind you, almost pressed up against your back. She leans into your ear and her voice is breathy, “Now look up.”

Above you is the most incredible sight you’ve ever seen. Hundreds of thousands of stars twinkle above you, oblivious to the events unfolding beneath them. You feel Agatha’s hand trail down your arm softly and take your hand. She outstretches your arm and leans in close. You can feel her breath on your cheek as she points your finger for you and tracks the constellations.

“Do you see that ‘W’ shape?” she asks softly, tracing the sky with your pointer finger.

“Yes,” you breathe back.

“That,” she says, “is the constellation Cassiopeia–the vain ruler who bragged about her daughter’s beauty. And if you go below…there’s the constellation Andromeda–bound in chains as a sacrifice for her mother’s words…and just over here…is the constellation Perseus–who slew the sea monster to save Andromeda, and ran off with her to marry…”

“It’s incredible…” you breathe. “I’ve never seen so many stars in my life.”

You drop your finger and her hand clasps your, curling you arm into yourself, and she holds it there. You lean against her, pulse racing as she takes her other hand and rests it on your hip. 

“Your pulse is racing,” she whispers, lips brushing your skin with each word.

You let out a shuttering breath and turn your head slightly, looking her in the eyes, “Agatha, I’m…I’m terrified.”

And you dont need to elaborate, because she knows why. 

“You don’t have to be terrified,” she mumbles back. “Not here. Not with me.”

And that’s what does it–her quiet reassurance. Her gentle promise and the way her thumb caresses the bare skin of your hand. 

Your breaths tie together. You glance down at her lips. She does the same. Your eyes meet again and you feel her hand leave yours and take your chin. The next thing you feel is her lips on yours as you turn toward her and clutch at her jacket. 

As the kiss deepens, her hand drifts from your chin and tangles in a dry patch of your hair. Her other tightens on your waist and when you feel her tongue gently prod into your mouth, you breathe deeply and let it in.

Your hands travel further up and then down her biceps to hold her forearms. When you pull away slowly, your noses brush and she smiles softly. And through the buzzing of the cicadas and beneath the canopy of stars, she hums and softly caresses your cheek, searching your eyes.

“You taste exactly as I imagined,” she mutters. “Sweet as sugarcane.”

[heroesrest64]

Haunting heroes

Other parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

Chapter 10: Ghost Field Trip

Chapter summary: You and the boys go to a ren faire to help ease them into the modern world. Nothing goes as planned

You can read the chapter here on ao3

“We are going to get in trouble.” Warriors hisses hands nervously lifted around your shoulders as you continue to drive down the freeway.

“Relax. We’re gonna fit right in.” You wink in his direction, lifting a hand, thumb up as an assurance, and watch as he visibly get more stressed as your car veers a little to the right.

“Please keep your eyes on the road,” Twilight sighs, rubbing his forehead, and you quickly turn your attention forward before you learn if ghosts can get grey hairs.

“Why do I have to be in the trunk? We could’ve fit Four and Wind back here with room to spare,” Legend complains, strawberry lemonade hair peeking from the hatchback trunk of your car.

“Hey, I offered! You all said I would fall out, even though I’m a ghost and wouldn’t have been able to get that far in the first place.” Wind grumbles under his breath from the middle seat, squished against Four and Hyrule, who is being an absolute doll and staring out the window as some sort of bossa nova tune plays on your radio. You can only imagine the fantastical scenarios running through his head.

On Four’s other side, Twilight runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long, tired sigh. You feel for the guy, you really do.

“At the very least you could’ve put someone other than Sky back here. He’s been using my legs as a pillow the whole time!” Legend continues to complain, and you decide to tune him out, turning up the music to drown out their voices and humming along as a jazzy song with lots of trumpets comes on next.

“Hey, has anyone seen Wild?” You ask about an hour into the drive. Silence is your only answer, and you feel a bead of sweat begin to form on your brow. There’s no way you forgot him, is there?

“You called?” A voice from directly overhead asks, and you let out the loudest, most unholy screech of your entire life, swerving for a second before catching yourself, anxiety fluttering like a hummingbird in your chest.

“What the fuck Wild! You scared the daylights out of me,” You gasp, hand clutching at your chest as you try to calm yourself down.

“Sorry. Hyrule said something about getting a better view from on top of your car, so I- Y’know. Got on top of your car.” Wild shrugs, and you feel your expression souring, sending the green tunic wearing man a nasty glare through the rear view mirror. He continues to stare out his window, but his smile ticks up at the corner and his eyes are glittering with mirth.

“You’re getting the middle seat on the drive back.” You hiss, and Hyrule gasps, finally turning away from his view to give you an affronted look.

“Now everybody shut up. We’re here.” You call out, and absolutely nobody shuts up, everyone clamoring to see just where you decided to drag them.

Seeing as you’re not the most creative person in the world, you decided to ease them into the modern world with something they might find familiar- a ren faire. Also you figure this is the only place you’ll be able to wear all their gear without catching too many odd looks. The downside is-

“Wow! That’s an amazing Hero of the Winds shield replica! Can I touch it?” An excited girl dressed up as a fairy marvels, eyes glittering in the midday light, the many different jewels on her body shining just as brightly.

“That is not Wind’s shield. It’s mine! And no she can’t touch it!” Four growls, jabbing a chilling finger into your stomach, and your purse your lips, trying to find a way to politely turn down the hopeful girl in front of you.

“Actually, your shield kinda does look like a family heirloom of mine-“ Wind starts, and you ignore the discussion the two start up. The day goes on like that with passerby’s recognizing one key item or another as you walk through the ren faire, stopping to tip the pickle vendor and passing by every stall to marvel at fancy jewelry (“It’s fake. I could make you something much nicer”, Four would say), interesting clothes, or just to talk with some of the people milling about.

The boys mostly wandered in a wide circle around you, never crowding too close unless you actively searched for one of them or they caught sight of something they couldn’t quite reach and needed you to step closer. It was a fun experience, all in all, and would have stayed as one if a high-pitched scream hadn’t rung out right around sunset.

The sound was chilling enough to send a thrill up your spine, and the feeling only got worse as you heard the mumbles of people beginning to jog and even run away from where the sound first came from.

“-huge teeth!” One man shouted at his companion. A mother was running past, and you heard something along the lines of, “-thought monsters didn’t come this close-“ before she got too far for you to hear anything else.

It seems a monster got into the venue. The boys are surrounding you in an instant, looking flighty but almost helpless in a way. They are heroes- they probably aren't used to standing around or even running away from a fight. You, however, are more than content to start the trek back to your car, albeit at a slower pace than most of the panicked people taking flight around you. Even if you run to get to your car, there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to drive away easily, and you’d rather not get trampled by the panicking masses in the meantime.

Unfortunately, it seems like your slow pace is your downfall, as Legend shouts something a mere second before a clawed hand clamps around your shoulder and throat, digging into your clothes and the leather straps keeping the boys’ gear fastened to your body.

“It’s a moblin! You need to get away,” Legend shouts, hands flying up as if to push the monster off of you. Of course it doesn’t work, and you would’ve taken the time to appreciate the gesture if your life wasn’t in mortal peril at the moment.

“How??” You panic, reaching up to try and tear the monster's bruising grip from your skin.

“Bite it!” Wind shouts, and you look down at the sausage fingers around your neck, shrug, and do as you’re told. A sickening crunch fills your ears, followed by a howling pig-like screech as the monster releases you, cradling its hand to its chest and observing his hand which now has a chunk taken out of it. Honestly you didn’t expect to cause so much damage, and you spit the blood and flesh out of your mouth in disgust before wiping the excess dribbling down your chin.

“Want some more?” You jeer, which you really shouldn’t have as the giant pig thing squeals angrily, lifting into a standing position and begins to charge at you with the ox-like horns on its head.

Some garbled version of an expletive escapes your mouth as you dive to the side, just barely dodging the charging monster. Wild cheers on the sidelines before catching the frightened look you give him. He immediately sobers up and points strictly at the sword on your back.

“Unless you feel like tearing out more of his skin with your teeth, you’re gonna need to use a weapon! I’m sure Fi won’t mind you using her for one measly battle,” Wild glances over his shoulder at Sky, and the man nods resolutely. You fumble for the sword on your back, struggling to unsheathe it for three frightening seconds before it slides out of its scabbard and you’re able to wield its heavy weight in front of you.

The moblin is back up and angrier than ever, eyes glowing blood red when they catch sight of the legendary sword in your hands. You suck in a sharp breath, hefting the master sword up with both of your hands but it still feels too heavy for you to swing it around with any real power. Still, you have to try.

“How do I-?” You start to ask, but cut yourself off with a scream when the Moblin reaches out for you again, swinging the sword in a wide arc and managing to slice the monsters hand clean off.

“Kinda like that,” Warriors chuckles, and you huff out a breath, bile pooling in your mouth as you watch the monsters arm twitch on the floor, blood pooling from his severed limb.

“That’s so nasty. You guys did this everyday? For fun??”

“It wasn’t exactly for ‘fun’, more so for survival or out of duty.” Sky shrugs. You scrunch up your nose before lifting the sword to swing one more time.

It feels like it takes a small eternity to cut the moblin down and by the end you’re a panting, sweaty mess. But! You succeeded! And with hardly a scratch on you.

And then a snuffling noise sounds out behind you. “They’re right behind me, aren’t they?” You mumble, and Wind nods solemnly. Turning briefly, you catch sight of a group of what look to be smaller, fatter, more pig-like moblins all shambling towards you before you break out into a brisk sprint away from the weird creatures.

“I don’t think I can fight all of those things,” You admit, managing to wedge yourself between two abandoned stalls to catch your breath. The boys share some worried looks before peeking out to assess the situation.

“It looks like there’s ten bokoblins and two more moblins. But there’s a large group blocking the way to the parking lot… You’d have to get through them in order to escape.” Warriors tells you, and you groan, burying your face in his scarf as you debate what to do.

“How many?”

“At least four. One of them’s a moblin.” Hyrule looks down at you, worried. You mumble some curses under your breath, scratching the back of your head as you think, only for your hand to bump into something warm and smooth.

It’s Legend’s fire rod, you realize, and reach back to pull it from its straps. “Would this be able to help me?” You ask, wielding it with far more ease than the master sword. It feels almost right in your hands.

“Not unless you somehow have a magical reserve in this day and age. There aren’t many mages left in this world, they either died off over the years or their blood got so muddied that magic became almost impossible.” Legend shakes his head, and you bite your lip. It makes sense, you suppose, but you did manage to make Hyrule’s potion, which apparently needed some sort of magic to activate it. The least you can do is try.

Gripping the staff in your hands, you stare at the ruby tip, sucking in a long, slow breath before stepping out of the cover you were hiding behind, immediately turning towards the parking lot and seeing the group of monsters the boys were talking about.

“Be careful. You should at least use the sword-“ Four stresses, only to choke on his words when you swing the rod in a wide arc and fire pours out, burning all of the nearby monsters and sending them into a panic.

“That actually wasn’t so hard!” You smirk, swinging the rod one more time to light up a bokoblin who had come running towards you.

“There’s one coming from behind!” Wild calls out, and you whip around, casting another blazing lash at the approaching monster. It falls, crying out in pain before finally seeming to succumb to its burns.

You end up fighting the smaller ones off in a similar manner, but when a black colored moblin rears its ugly head, you’re forced to retreat again as it fights through the fire you send its way to charge at you, a thick club wielded in its hands.

Your foot catches on something left on the floor, and you land with a grunt, Legend’s rod clattering to the side. While you’re reaching to pick it back up, something solid makes contact with your stomach, and you feel weightless for less than a second before landing in a heap some distance away from where you started. Did it… hit you? You struggle to roll over, huffing and clutching your stomach.

“They won’t be able to fight it like this! Black moblins are tough, and they’re already weak from all of the magic use.” Someone shouts overhead, and you squint up to see a flash of blue, tan and black. Wild.

“It’s too early for any of us to haunt it. You have to get up!” Hyrule shouts, voice ripping in his panic, and you struggle onto your knees. The monster is so heavy it shakes the very earth beneath it. You can physically feel your demise growing closer.

“I can’t,” You barely get out past clenched teeth, tears slipping down your cheeks as your body processes through the pain it’s experiencing.

“They’ll die. Twilight-“ You hear Warriors shout, and peek up to see Twilight’s ghost run up to you.

“I’m sorry about this,” He whispers in your ear before the world turns on its head, and suddenly you’re staring down at yourself. The sight is so strange it’s sickening, but you don’t even have time to process what you’re seeing before your body stands, drawing the master sword on your back with a steely gaze. A soft hand grabs your shoulder, and you whip around to see Sky holding you steady.

“What happened..?” You gasp, quickly turning back to your body to see them fighting the moblin with a grace and assured strength you could only hope to hold.

“That moblin was going to kill you. Twilight had to… uh, ‘take over’.” Sky explains, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. When your browns scrunch up in confusion, Four butts in.

“He’s possessing you.”

“What?!” You screech, staring at your body wide-eyed. Sure enough, Twilight in your body glances up and winks at you in between hacking away at the raging black moblin in front of him.

“How is he moving? I couldn’t even stand up before.” You ask, turning towards the gathered ghosts.

“Probably a mix of adrenaline and the knowledge that you might die if he doesn’t take that moblin down.” Legend points out. You nod a little numbly, realizing that you seriously almost died just moments prior, and if you didn’t have a connection with Twilight, you really would’ve.

“I thought he could only possess animals?”

“Usually, yes. However, if a ghost comes in contact with their anchor, they can temporarily stretch the limits of their power. We’re thinking Time did something similar before he disappeared.”

“Twilight’s gonna disappear like Time after this?!” You fret, raking a hand through your hair, and the boys groan, one of them even slapping Warriors on the back of his head for telling you something so worrying.

“They’ll come back! Don’t worry!” Sky rushes to reassure, only to start sweating when you squint at him suspiciously.

Unfortunately, you can’t weasel any more answers out of the men before there’s a distinct tugging at your chest, and you turn to watch Twilight slash at the moblin one last time before it goes down with a pained screech.

Before you know it, you aren’t looking down at yourself anymore, but rather staring at the fallen foe in front of you. The sword in your hand glows a faint blue for a second before sputtering out, and you slide it back into its sheath on your back before crudely kicking the fallen monster in front of you. When it rolls over, limp and dead, you catch sight of the viscous black blood slowly bubbling out of its wounds.

[galaxiasgreen]

🍺🖤This Hell We Create

Sebastian x F!Muggle!Reader with eventual smut, minor Garrinis [E-Rated, 5.6k words]

"Just... be careful." He takes your hand, bowing to kiss the fingers like delicate embers in a breeze. "Now, bar girl," he murmurs, "where's the fun in that?"

Harlow prepares to take his revenge. Sebastian has a plan to protect you.

[MASTERLIST][FIRST][PREV][LAST] [read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

TW: coarse language, blood/ injury, gendered language, explicit smut MDNI (dom!Seb, dirty talk, wall sex, porn with feelings, public sex, cunnilingus, very slight breeding kink), and one threat of sexual assault (not made by Sebastian or the bar girl). This occurs in Harlow's paragraph of dialogue shortly after he is reintroduced, which you can skip over if you'd prefer. Please take care. <3

6. worth the risk

Sebastian's urges never seem fully satiated, but you're happy to try. Minutes may pass, or hours. You indulge the time making love, passionately, raggedly, between bouts of uncontrollable laughter or breathless, all-consuming kisses. His smell becomes part of the place, part of you. Sometimes you sleep for a little while only to wake and start all over again, with hands that already know the right places to tease.

It must be three o'clock when you next stir. In the indigo bloom of darkness, Sebastian is limned by the hazy moon rays that wander through the curtain parting. Light makes his back muscles cleave sharply down his body, burnished with ink. Even obscured, he is beautiful. You pull up slightly, rousing him – he half-turns, clasping your hairbrush.

"What are you doing with that?"

He puts it down. "Thought I'd comb my hair a little."

"I like it mussed."

"Especially when you muss it?" He lets out a low chuckle. "Sleep, love."

"Only if you join me."

Sebastian doesn't care that your breath smells bad and there's crust in your eyes. He slips in beside you, enveloping you with that broad, strong warmth that draws you into his protection. It's safe here. Nothing can hurt you. He kisses your brow, and it feels like music, heart beating a slow, steady rhythm that lulls you to sleep as easy as the clouds drift lazily across the sky.

"Shall I tell you a secret?" he asks when you're next awake.

You smirk and roll into him. "Go on, then."

"You know Ominis is my best friend? His last name's not actually Gaunt." His eyes twinkle. "It's Weasley."

"That's your secret? That he's married to Garreth's sister?" you scoff. "Bit odd for a man to take his wife's surname, but hardly worth hiding, is it?"

"He's not married to Garreth's sister."

"Oh? He's adopted?"

"Wrong again. Ominis and Garreth, they're..."

"... Work partners."

"No... it's just the two of them living together, so they're..."

"Best friends? And without you. Must be a blow to your ego."

"God, bar girl." He laughs. "They're fucking."

You jerk backwards. "What?"

"More precisely they're married, but I guess that also means they're fucking."

You don't know how to react. "Two men, married?"

"That's a better secret, isn't it?" He winks. "Keep an open mind."

You're not really sure what to do with this information, but the pieces rearrange in your head. That explains their relationship a little better, not of boss and underling, but of lovers hiding beneath a veil of secrets. At least you can relate to that.

"Should I be worried they'll try to poach you from me?"

"Ominis would rather eat rocks," Sebastian says, laughing. "Garreth... wouldn't surprise me if he tried. I'm very desirable, after all."

You snort. "Tell me something about you, then. Something no one else knows."

"Now that's a tougher order." His hands settle in your hair and he plays with it gently, sending sparks down your scalp. "How mysterious do you think I am?"

"If you could bury your secrets at the bottom of the ocean, you would."

"Touché." He draws his fingers up, massaging your head. "All right, I will confess something... I bite my nails."

"That's why they look so bad."

"And I have a terrible addiction to looking at myself in the mirror."

"Sebastian."

"It's painful to be this handsome, bar girl."

"You're certainly a pain." You drag your fingers down his chest, letting each bristle of hair be the spark that keeps you alight. "I'm serious. Or do you really think you're an open book?"

"Not at all." His voice comes out gravelled but meek. "Are my secrets worth knowing?"

"You are worth knowing. Every piece of you."

You snuggle into him to emphasise this truth. I am safe, the motion says. I will guard your heart as you have guarded mine. After a moment, he slowly traces each vertebrae of your spine, one by one by one like a bead of liquid silver trickling down a stairwell. On a cold winter's night, it couldn't be any more comforting a touch. Perfect.

"I regret what I did for the wrong reason."

By the small of your back, he pauses and meets your eye, waiting, urging for a sign to continue. This path is fretful and dangerous, another way it could upend your perception of him. But very little could, and you place a kiss on his chin in solidarity.

"It's the worst part of me." He continues it quietly, like distant rain. "Every day in prison I thought about my uncle. How would I do it differently? How could I help my sister without dooming us all? The truth is... that fifteen year old boy didn't know any better. He didn't have a support network. He didn't feel like he could trust the teachers. His best friends were against his ideas from the start. You know that feeling that makes your entire body recoil? When your disgust is so resonant you feel it in your bones, and you'll do mental somersaults to think of anything else? I thought it was remorse.

"But I realised after confronting it... I didn't regret his death. I regretted what it did to my soul. I regretted the decisions that led me to her death, and drinking. I regretted hurting her and my friends."

"You regret getting caught."

"Yes." He's barely audible now. "It took a long time for Anne to come to terms with not only what I did, but why. I killed him for her."

You cup his cheek, steadying the demons that manifest like embers in ash.

"And look how far you've come since then. You got through prison. You're getting better. You've made new, lasting connections. She's looking down on you with a smile."

Instead he smirks. "Hope not. That means she's seen my dick." But there's sadness there, and worry and hesitation and pleading and all the things that remind you of the man behind the façade. "I felt relief, not regret, that he was dead. That I gave her a chance to live. Does that... am I a selfish monster?"

You wrap your arms around him.

"Selfish, yes, but that doesn't make you a monster, Sebastian," you say, listening to his heartbeat with ease. "That makes you human."

By sunrise he hasn't thought of a plan, but when his cock thrusts into you, and your face thrusts into the pillow, you can't bring yourself to worry. He empties over your bed several times and takes measures to make sure you're equally pleasured too, that by the time you clean yourselves up for the morning you're already tired.

You make it in time to intercept your mother from tottering right over the bannister.

"It's all right," you say to him, when you eventually coax her to the armchair. "If you need to be somewhere else—"

"No," he says, with that half-smile that is yours. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

A natural charmer and entertainer, he helps clean, feed and move your parents to the sun room. By some miracle they actually recognise him too, the man who vanishes in the fireplace – you want to ask more about that but suspect Sebastian will give answers so cryptic they couldn't solve a fiendish crossword – and with his help you finish the morning's work in half the time. Ada arrives to watch them and says nothing of Sebastian's presence, agreeing without words to keep one more secret sealed on her lips.

The pub opens for the breakfast rush without any issue out of the ordinary. You swab countertops. Serve customers. Take coin in your pocket and snags on the chin. Sebastian remains through it all, the fallen guardian angel ever present and watchful, and though he resists as long as he can, it's not even twelve before he's halfway into a stout, foam coating his lips in a golden froth. You're tempted to lick it off.

The day is almost perfectly normal. Almost.

Because there is one thought that keeps you twitchy and addled. One thing that makes your hair stand on end, hyper-vigilant of every noise and new face. Harlow's retaliation may not be immediate. It may not even be next week. But he will come – and you have no idea when.

So each night, Sebastian stays to protect you.

It becomes as easy as breathing to fall asleep in his arms, sometimes after riotous love-making or kisses that leave you breathless, sometimes after enjoying one another's company in the small ways, words as loud as ghosts and touches as searing as the moon in the cloudless sky. You refuse to relax at the start, and try to remember what could happen the moment you let your guard down, but with Sebastian lulling you to sleep with a story, a crooked grin or the simple safety of his embrace, the promise is a difficult one to keep.

It was only a week ago, but Harlow becomes as distant a memory as a decade.

And that comfort is dangerous.

You're in the beer cellar below, hunting for the rye whisky, when Sebastian wanders down to find you. Without the peek of natural sunlight you could fool yourself into thinking it's night, the thicket of kegs set gently aglow by gas lamps on the wall.

"Thought you might want my help." His brow dances. "Or my muscle. Whichever suits."

"I'm just debating whether it's worth bringing up another rye. We're low and Old Dodder could neck it solo." You turn to him fully. "You haven't heard anything?"

"No."

"It's been a week. No one's heard from him even once?" You tap your nails on the keg's rim. "Why? What's he doing?"

"How'd you know there hasn't been hundreds of attacks I've valiantly fought off?" You fix him a look, which only broadens his smile. "We're keeping an eye out, I promise. Don't stress."

"In this line of work that's impossible. There's about ten different things I have to manage, and that's without a criminal gang out for my head."

His smile turns a little smug, and he prowls closer, a distinctive glimmer in his eye. "Then let me help?"

"Oh yeah? Sebastian Sallow, bar boy? I'd fancy watching you hold a tray of beers without spilling a drop. Or taking a cheeky sip."

"I was thinking more the stress, love."

He tucks you between a cluster of kegs and himself. Much taller and broader, Sebastian's scent overwhelms all others, richly dark musk, leather, sweat, oak, stout. His thumbs find the small of your waist, pressing you inwards, trapping you.

"What did you have in mind?" you ask demurely.

His kiss captures you mid-breath, and you sink into him, taken by his strength and dominance. You've kissed him tens, hundreds of times now, and it never feels any less euphoric. He tastes of malt and gold, caramel and power, and with his lips meandering across your cheeks and down your jaw, then enthusiastically across your throat with enough bite to sting pleasantly, it's hard not to demand he fuck you then and there.

"Sebastian—"

"Sssshhh." He caresses your lips. "No more stress."

The kisses set fire to your core as he trails down the front of your apron, down to your tapered waist and the volume of your skirts until he's on his knees before you. Anticipation makes your sex throb, and when his hands slip under the layers, drawing it above his head, you let out a little bleat of surprise.

"T-This is a cellar!"

"Then you'd better keep quiet, love."

Without warning he buries his face between your legs, and you're embarrassed, secretly pleased, to realise how wet the bloomers cling to you with excitement. He tugs on the string holding them in place to reach your entrance, swollen after a pathetically minimal amount of stimulation. Sebastian just has that way – a few words, a touch, a smile, and you unravel. His nose caresses your clit, and you let out a gasp.

"You smell delicious," he murmurs into the folds, flowering open at the vibration. "Spread yourself for me."

A wet, warm tongue slides across you, and you grab the keg to anchor yourself, so turned on you widen your stance and roll your hips forward to give him better access. He chuckles, another vibration, and continues to lick the ache, slow, leisurely, each lap so discreet in reality but loud and slick to you.

"Wider," he demands softly. "Let me taste more of you."

Propriety crumbling, you inch your legs outwards, allowing Sebastian easier access.

"T-This is too risky—"

The trap door flies open, filling the cellar with sunlight. You yank your arms to your sides at once. Sebastian freezes, tongue suspended on your clit – but not retreating.

"There you are!" Bonny heads down a few steps – she tilts her head. "What you doin' in there, miss?"

Thank God there's a bunch of barrels in the way. "S-Stock count."

"Cook did that this morning?"

Shit. "I know, I'm just—"

His tongue grazes deeper over your entrance. You almost moan. Bastard. Instead, you physically wrench your facial muscles back into place.

"Bein' thorough?" offers Bonny.

Another lash of his tongue, this time playing with the rim.

"Very," he whispers.

You knee him gently but he just licks again. Fuck. It's harder and harder to look calm, harder to control the urge to sink your fingers into the curls and ride his fucking face.

"T-Thorough, yes," you manage. "I'll be out in a min."

She makes to step forwards. "Want any help?"

"No! I mean, no, thank you." You can't focus. Bonny's there but in your mind's eye you can only see Sebastian between your legs, working you to climax. "Promise I won't be long."

His pace quickens, sliding back forth back forth. You nudge him again, which only makes his tongue more eager. The world teeters.

"Aw'right, well," says Bonny, "I'll tell the bloke with the walking stick to wait at the bar then? He's looking for your man but I can't seem to find him."

Sebastian coils his arms around your thighs, adjusting the position as his tongue slips easily inside you.

"Yes!" you cry, then cough. "Yes, that would— be— great."

Bonny makes a face but shrugs and swings the door shut behind her, leaving you in dusky silence again.

"You arsehole—"

He doesn't let you finish, using his whole mouth now to stimulate your clit and entrance in tandem. Burying in and out, across and up, kissing and sucking. Your head cranes backwards, your hands fist your skirt to channel the frustration, the desire. Fuck, it feels amazing. A guttural moan escapes your mouth but doesn't even sound like your own, so lost in the thrill – and when Sebastian licks and licks and licks without stopping, you're quickly arcing your back and bucking against his mouth until the release comes swift and fast, pulsing sloppily over his face.

It takes a few seconds to regain some measure of poise. Sebastian drops the skirt and reveals himself grinning widely and sticky with cum.

"You're incorrigible."

"And you're welcome."

"We could've been caught."

He thumbs his face and licks it off, without taking his eyes off you. "You enjoy the risk."

"I'm at risk of being caught and destroying my reputation. You're hiding under my skirts."

He stands and slips your chin into his grasp, tilting it up to ghost his lips.

"Careful, love. I might like to show you how brazen I can be."

One step closer pins you between the wall and him. His breath susurrates as he dips down to your ear.

"I'd fuck you on that counter if you'd let me."

The image of you sprawled out for all to see, naked and begging and at the mercy of his pleasure, sends heat up unspooling through your core again, and a coy glance downwards shows that same desire reflected in his physical form.

"Ominis is waiting for you."

"Hm." He grasps your arse tightly and hoists you to the wall, pressing his bulge between your legs. "Let him wait."

With two firm tugs you undo his breeches, and Sebastian claims your mouth, tongue still salty and sweet with your juices. He roughly grinds forwards, pulsing a new wave of pleasure down your navel, satisfying of the feel of his hard, eager cock. One stroke elicits a mid-kiss groan down your throat, and when you reach to grasp him, please him, the wetness that quickly blooms from the head drives your wants mad.

The nights are tender and loving, but today, with the pub hall only upstairs, Sebastian buries the tip, then the entirety of him, inside you in a quick, flush motion. You feel full yet famished still. Legs curled around him and arms steady, you become a vessel for his pleasure as he ruts into you so hard the floorboards groan. Someone could hear you – you're sure of it. If Bonny or anyone had another question or thought to check on their boss, they would get treated to a sight of Sebastian's cock between your legs, yet you take each thrust willingly and frantically, rocking to his rhythm in desperation to find a new release. He's right, you enjoy the risk. You enjoy him. Clinging to his back, you relish his hard muscles bearing your weight, and dig your nails into his shirt and flesh beneath.

He peels free as he adjusts position, gripping your thighs like vice, and his mouth finds the swell between your neck and collarbone. The sensations tip you closer and closer. Your body doesn't just want to orgasm, it needs to. You have to let go. A rasping moan bleats from your lips, broken by ragged pants.

"Keep quiet, love," he commands. "Only I get to hear you cum."

Your spine hits the wall with each thrust. The fire builds until its pleading, beseeching for release, and with one final desperate movement you clench around his cock and freely orgasm, biting your lip to curb the scream that surges up your throat. Divine pleasure wracks every bone.

"S-Sebastian..."

His name blurted like that makes his grip tighten. He pants raggedly, pumps with no rhythm, eyes fluttering upwards and nails biting, and when he finally pulls out to twist away before his release spurts, his face contorts with pleasure, almost pain, that he can't cum inside you, leave you dripping and marked as his as you work.

Knees too week to stand, you slump to the floor, spent.

"You really... are incorrigible..."

He lets out a low chuckle and runs a hand through his sweaty curls.

"But you love it."

You do.

He leans over and slips a hand around your waist, pulling you up to his chest. For a long moment, as your hearts climb down from the high together, neither of you say anything. Despite his past, his secrets, his vices, Sebastian has become the one place where you can truly be yourself. There are no worries or impossible expectations, no societal burdens, no weight nor responsibility. No stress. He is the safety net, the impenetrable monument, the sun that whispers to the sprout to thrive, and if Heaven exists, it's this beautiful connection, the golden threads that bind you together with something far greater than love.

Adventure, freedom, the new and unexpected but never unwelcome. Sebastian is all those things and more.

"I don't want to see what the brute wants," he murmurs. "I'd rather stay here with you forever."

Your focus tugs back to those brilliant coffee eyes.

"Just for now will be enough."

To divert suspicions, you go back to the main hall first.

Tidying yourself up is harder than it sounds, with the flush of sex fresh on your face. With a final kiss, Sebastian promises to clean up as you head up out the stock room and into the hall. Ominis is distinctive immediately by his unfittingly taut posture, state of overdress and cane slotted tightly into his palm, but he lifts his chin as you approach, like he can scent you coming.

Hopefully not. He might mistake you for his friend.

"Good afternoon, madam," he greets cordially, setting his teacup down. "Sebastian is close by, I presume."

Sebastian saunters out next, and it seems to take all his willpower not to touch you. His easy smile capsizes from post-coital bliss to pre-disaster despair.

"Please tell me you're here to buy me a drink and nothing else?"

"I have news," he says. "On Harlow."

"Then out with it," you demand. "What do you know?"

"It's best I discuss the matter with Sebastian privately."

"Why? They're going to come here, ain't they?"

He makes to retort, but Sebastian cuts in. "She's right, Ominis. Let's both hear it."

Ominis purses his lips in hesitation, but stands. "Very well. I have... informants who have received word that he intends to strike the premises with a dozen of his men tonight."

Your heart leaps into your throat. "What? Tonight? Then why are you here? Go stop him!"

Ominis is unrelentingly stoic. "Intent is not a crime, and unfortunately Harlow has a large enough following that means we must catch him in the act to arrest him. Any premature move could give away the element of surprise. He underestimated you last time, so I imagine he will bring full..." he rolls his lips, "firepower tonight."

"I have a plan, don't worry," Sebastian adds at your horror. "Been cooking it some time."

"And you didn't think to share it with me?" you snap.

"It's no longer safe for you here," Ominis says coolly. "You'll need to make accommodations elsewhere for the time being."

"And what about my pub?"

"Let us handle it."

"I'm hearing a lot of don't worry about it and not enough telling me what you plan to do."

"That's all I can share. Sebastian," he says abruptly, "we'll discuss more later, once I have logistics in place."

He glides away like he hasn't just upended your entire world. It's one thing to target you, another entirely to target this place. You live here, work here, grew up here, met Sebastian here. It can't all end in ruin.

"Just for tonight, lay low at my place." Sebastian fishes in his pocket and places a warm metal key into your palms. "Garreth will be more than happy to watch your parents, he has a spare room, he's very discreet and he adores old people."

You don't even have the brain power to fathom how Sebastian could organise that in one afternoon. "I won't cower."

"Not cowering. All you have to do—"

"No." You thrust the key back into his hand. "This time you tell me what's going on. It's not a pig-headed customer or a carriage to the seaside, Sebastian. This place is my life."

"I know, and I would never do anything to jeopardise it."

"So why can't you tell me your plan?"

"Because I don't want you to worry about me, more than you already will." He steps closer, gets quieter. "Everything will work out, but for that to happen, I need to know you're safe and far away. I can't... I can't risk you getting hurt. I can't work to protect this place knowing you're in danger."

"You're on leave," you whisper. "I don't want you getting hurt."

"I won't." He puts the key back and cups your hands over it. "I know it's hard for you, but—"

"Trust you?"

"Now you're getting it." His hands slip away – you miss the warmth keenly. "It'll be over by morning, I promise."

This side of him, confident and self-assured and doubtless everything will be okay, draws you in like seduction. This isn't the first time you've put your faith in his hands, but now it kindles a feeling of helplessness in your belly. He's never let you down before and has no reason to now – but still, you can't help feel pushed over your limit.

There's more at stake this time. Your life and your parents' lives are more important, yes, but it feels... wrong, to abandon your home when it needs you most.

"All right," you back down, uneasy but left without options. "Just... be careful."

He takes your hand, bowing to kiss the fingers like delicate embers in a breeze.

"Now, bar girl," he murmurs, "where's the fun in that?"

The door opens before the third swing of the knocker.

"Brilliant timing!" Garreth greets, ushering you inside. "Just tucked your parents into bed!"

It took a forty minute walk to reach the Weasley townhouse on the west side of the city. You've forgone wondering the hows and whys of Sebastian's machinations, so it doesn't surprise you to find your parents in the spare bedroom, sitting up and nattering about green flames. The place is surprisingly plain, with a sparse number of portrait photographs on an empty oak shelf, a navy armchair that clashes with red wallpaper and a cuckoo clock, except instead of chiming on the hour, it chimes at seven minutes past.

"Cup of tea?" asks Garreth. "It'll be good for the nerves, and not to brag, but I'm very good at hand-brewing."

"No, thank you. Is Mr Gaunt here?"

"Why would he be here?" he blurts. "He doesn't live here, or anything. He's just my colleague. At work. Working. Yeah. He and Sebastian are already on the case."

You stew on it as you ensure your parents are settled and comfortable. It's already past nine and the pub closed early, and if Ominis' intel is correct, Harlow's gang will be storming the place in a few hours. He wouldn't hesitate to deliver a killing blow; Sebastian would, despite his blood-stained past. What if, in granting mercy, he gets badly hurt or killed?

"What about Kath?" you ask, and Garreth stiffens. "Does she know?"

"Errrrr." He laughs nervously. "Don't be mad..."

"What, Garreth?"

"They're not exactly doing this... by the book..." He holds up his hands. "They won't be able to stop Harlow any other way. And trust me, even when Seb's off his tits he's too competent to let shit go awry."

"So it's just him and Ominis? Against Harlow's entire gang?" You glare at him. "What exactly is this plan?"

Garreth goes a little pale. "They're going to use bait to lure him into a trap they've set. That's all."

"Bait?" you snap. "What bait?"

"It'll be fine, I promise! Over by one, Seb told me. He's that confident."

Time seems to distend. Sebastian was right – you are worrying, so much it gnaws your insides. They're outnumbered and outmanned and assuming Harlow will be idiot enough to fall into whatever this trap is they've set, presumably at your pub's expense.

"Where's that handsome, tattooed young man, hmm?"

You spin to your father, wrenched from the conversation. "What?"

"Oh, if I were fifty years younger, sweetheart," your mother chimes, relaxing next to him, "I'd be all over him!"

You don't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course they remember him, out of everyone they've ever met. "He's busy right now."

"Not without another woman, I hope?"

"No, Mama."

"What a lucky chap he is to have you at his side. Not everyone gets that, you know." Your mother turns to face your father with a smile. "The adventures we had... they were always worth the risk."

Adventure, and freedom, and the new and unexpected but never unwelcome... a painful ache goes through you. Wasn't that something you learnt when you were with Sebastian? Living, rather than surviving? Taking the risk rather than hiding away?

Downstairs, you grab your things as Garreth opens the front door.

"You can stay, if you want," he says, leaning against the doorway. "It'll be a tight squeeze, but I can whip up a bed for you in the living room."

Sleep will be hard enough at Sebastian's place. "Thanks, but I'll be all right. You'll call if there's any issues?"

"Don't worry, I'm used to entertaining old people. If they can't sleep I can show them some magic! Er, by that I mean coin tricks and pulling my thumb off, of course." He laughs awkwardly. "Keep out of trouble tonight?"

You don't make that promise.

It's lonely in Sebastian's place without him.

To busy yourself, you tidy. Charming as the owner is, he's a terrible mess, and his attempts to clean since you were last here only mean the floor is free of empty bottles. You scrub the kitchen countertop, hoping each stain that peels away will relieve the anxiety storming through your gut.

It doesn't.

Even when you wash and dress and climb into his bed, breathing his familiar scent, your feet feel like they're filled with lightning, charged and restless and twitchy and taut. The clock ticks on Sebastian's wall. The pendulum swings. It passes midnight, then one, and you hear no sign, nothing that relieves you of this nightmarish cycle of waiting, hoping, praying, pleading.

Wait. Hope. Pray. Plead.

The later it gets, the worse your thoughts become. Harlow's grin. The place is flames. Sebastian struck down. Sebastian unmoving...

Everything you love is there. The building, the memories... him. If things go wrong, not only will you lose the place, but the person, too. He said to trust him – and you do, so much your soul aches at the thought of lying here, doing nothing, while he risks his life for you.

Maybe it's time to risk your life for him. Just this once. Just for love.

Without another breath, you're out of bed, dressing and snatching your coat and shoving your feet into boots. Fuck it. The most harm you can do is swing a punch with whatever muscle you've developed moving furniture and pouring beer, but if Sebastian's in trouble and there's any way you can help, even if it means acting as bait yourself, you'll seize it.

Outside, it doesn't take long to grasp your bearings, as the river cuts seamlessly through the city centre, but it's a bit of a walk, and the dark is no place for a lone woman. You keep to brightly lit areas and skirt strangers in wide arcs, channelling that fear into a determined pace.

When you near Ye Olde Hen House, a sharpness tickles the air.

It's not strong at first, but as you get closer the smell thickens and dries your tongue. Smoke. It tastes like Guy Fawkes' Night, fireworks and bonfires and effigies charred to cinders. You jog, then sprint, the last two streets until you can see the plume rising from the source.

In another life, the sight would be biblically divine. Devour the old to make way for the new. Sometimes you wished it, when the pipes burst or the carpet wore away or the damp crept through a leak in the ceiling, but watching the old building now, with its windows shattered and the great orange tongues churning through the wood like claws through flesh and bone, shoots an intense pang of grief up your chest. The place may be old, tired and decrepit, but it's yours.

This is dangerous. You shouldn't go further. But the thought of Sebastian burning within compels you to race forwards, faster than your limbs have ever taken you before. There's nothing you can do to save the place now, but if he dies as you stand here and watch, there wouldn't be a lifetime long enough to atone.

"Sebastian!" you screech. "Sebastian!"

Just as you come upon the entrance, the flames recede. You skid to a halt. Someone is inside. Him? Or Harlow? You hit the great double-door, expecting resistance – but the wood is soggy and you burst into the main hall, still aflame and wrecked so completely it's almost unrecognisable.

Harlow has his back to you, and the grief doesn't have time to bloom.

His clothes are singed, he's leaning heavily to one side and thick blood weeps from numerous injuries, including an enormous gash down the length of his back. Trembling and red with rage, he stands opposite a figure too obscured by both cloak and smoke to make out clearly.

"And after you're dead, I'll come for your whore. Tie her up, make her scream. Maybe find out what you find so sweet about her Muggle cunt." He bellows a hysterical laugh and raises something wooden in his hand. "Save a seat in hell for me."

No. You seize the first thing you can find: the cast-iron pan hanging on the rack. The handle makes your skin sizzle, but you clamp down on the agony – and jab the curve right into Harlow's exposed wound.

The screech he lets out could curdle blood, and he drops to his knees. You reel back. He only just turns around – eyes going wide – before you whack it against his head, and his body thumps to the ground, unconscious. Maybe dead. You drop the pan, palms red and raw and quivering with pain, and look over.

The figure steps back – but it's not Sebastian.

You snatch the details between the smoke. Familiarly curved, with fingers that sing of hardship, hair escaping its loose bundle and shoulders like the physical weight of responsibility has sheared them down to a perpetual slant, it's a body you know both intimately and don't understand, and love or despise depending on moods as errant as the wind. The person darts across the floor to the stock room for the back entrance, flicking the barest second of attention your way.

With eyes matching your own.

It's impossible. Impossible. How could someone wear every flaw on your skin, every follicle and pore, every old scar and callous like a garment to be discarded when they saw fit? The lookalike scampers away, and your feet jerk you forwards in chase, through the ruined doorway to the back alley.

You have to know. You have to.

"Wait!" you choke out. "Who are—?"

But when you turn the corner, the doppelgänger is gone.

Please like, share or reblog if you enjoyed <3

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[kayselyn-axe-the-third-goddamnit]

If parasites used to be eliotropes, now it's iops!)

Well, the release of Bestiale is just around the corner, and as a person who was waiting for it and was very upset with how this project looks now, I am going to express my opinion. I apologize in advance if my language is rude - I only have complaints and do not want to offend anyone. Also, in this post, not only the Bestiale series will be mentioned, but also other works by ankama, including animated series, games and comics.

Unfortunately, I do not have the opportunity to get acquainted with many of them now due to studies and health problems, so feel free to point out errors that may be in the text - I will be very grateful. And now - let's go!

Narrative plan:

🥇🥈🥉1) W12 races and favoritism among them;

🥊2) Iops characters;

❗3) What's the problem

🌊4) Bestiale;

🐉5) "Year of Osamodas";

🥇🥈🥉1) Races of the World of Twelve And favoritism among them;

The World of Twelve is a planet, a fantasy world where the events of all (with rare exceptions) stories of the krosmoz universe take place. This world is inhabited by people of many races/classes, which are revealed to varying degrees. Despite how Tot has recently abandoned the old canon and is having fun with fanfiction, I still suggest using marks that will indicate the degree to which we know about a particular race. (Important: the table is quite subjective and was compiled by me as an average consumer of content, so it does not claim to be absolutely accurate. I only write what I see.)

Marks: ❤️ = good, 💚 = not bad; 🩵 = little information, 🖤 = unknown / very little information;

Races:

1) Sadida ❤️;

2) Feca🖤;

3) Cra🩵;

4) Eniripsa🖤;

5) Osamodas🖤;

6) Sacrier 🖤;

7) Pandawa🖤;

8) Ecaflip💚;

9) Ouginak🖤;

10) Xelor🖤;

11) Iop🩵;

12) Enutrof🖤;

13) Zobal/Masqueraider🖤;

14) Foggernaut🩵;

15) Huppermage💚;

16) Rogue🖤;

17) Sram🖤;

18) Forgelance🩵;

19) Eliatropes and Eliotropes (formerly) ❤️;

20) Classless Humans 🖤;

21) Monsters and Others 🖤;

Even though we don't know much about Iop culture, they're literally everywhere because for some unknown reason Ankama loves them almost as much as Elia(o)tropes (Eliotropes were a waste of time and resources - are you ready for this conversation or not). Almost every project in the krosmoz universe has at least one Iop, and they look REALLY bad. I'll explain why I don't like them later, but first I'll give you a list of characters to back it up.

🥊2) Iop Characters;

When I say Iops are literally everywhere, I mean it. I want to point out that I haven't read the Dofus manga or the Ogrest manga, so I might be wrong in some places. I apologize in advance. Here's a list of Iop characters and roles, I think that's it:

1) Tristepin. Wakfu series (main characters), Wakfu manga (main characters), OVA (main characters), Waven (main characters). Also appears in other works as Iop God;

2) Goultard. Wakfu series (minor character), Waven (minor character), OVA (background character), Dofus Magna ( main characters), the protagonist of his own short film;

3) Eleley. Wakfu series (minor character), OVA (minor character), Wakfu manga (minor character), Waven* series (main character);

4) Pin. Wakfu series (minor character), Waven* series (main character);

5) Iop God . Wakfu (past incarnation of one of the main characters), Ogrest manga (minor character), Savara* (minor character or npc);

6) Khan. Dofus: Julith (minor character), Dofus mmorpg (npc), Welsh and Shedar* (minor character);

7) Bist. Lance Dur series (minor character), Lance Dur webtoon (minor character);

8) Karn. Bestiale* (main characters), Savara* (npc);

9) Savara. Savara* (main character);

*The featured animation/game product has not yet been released at the time of writing or has been abandoned;

As you can see, there are quite a few iops in important roles.

❗3) What's the problem

In short: iops are CtrlC+CtrlV dummies that the creators of the universe play with instead of developing the universe (the same goes for eliatropes/eliopropes).

With rare exceptions, all iops look something like this: proud, very strong, sometimes not particularly smart, fight well and love to do it. Of course, each of them will have some individual traits, but they all remain a set of the above qualities (with rare exceptions). I won't even talk about the design - it's decadence and boredom (especially hairstyles - most often they are LITERALLY THE SAME).

Iops, as a rule, are needed to please the viewer with their image and it works, but apart from their charm (I still don't understand why they are loved so much) they bring nothing else. No lore, no interesting information, which will tell us something new (besides the character itmself). I can forgive mistakes in creating a story, but I don't forgive monotony.

And it would seem: if so, then you can create a character of another race and start revealing other peoples. Give content for fans of another class that are part of your own audience too. Even if it was never the main goal of the show, it would be cool to have some variety even in small amounts, right? NO! Every time we get a red-headed goof created for crowd entertainment. What about the other races? I'm not interested in watching iops - I want to understand what the world of twelve is, we barely know anything about it! Have you even seen the official map of the world of twelve? There are a HUGE number of regions and places that you can ONLY learn something about if you play Dofus/Wakfu/ect.! Moreover, Ankama still creates new classes, but they do not get enough attention, only the basic minimum. What about the old ones? How much, for example, do we know about srams or zobals?

This universe has been around for ten years for sure, and I want to know more about it, about the others, not read another Tot fanfic about some silly-billy! Ankama. What. Is. This.

And don't get me wrong - I don't hate Iops, I actually like some of them. But they get TOO MUCH attention and because they bring so little new to the table, it's very hard to take Iops seriously. You just see wasted potential and every new character starts to irritate you.

Okay, I'm starting to get too angry, so let's move on. Sorry for the bombing.

🌊4) Bestiale;

Ugh, there will be a lot of complaining here too.

In fact, I didn't have any strong complaints about Karn's character until he was announced as the second main character. I don't mind him having having lots of fans' attention at all - let people enjoy what they like. But the creators of the show already give preference to him - he got the status of the main character, he is in the trailers, has some kind of biography, appears in the game and it is him, and not Yrehn, that we see in the videos advertising the series. Although there was no need for this. At all.

The main character herself appears only in the trailer and apart from the notes from the designer, we know nothing about her at all (well, she also has a special connection with Ilanthe, you could guess about it from the trailer, thanks). Are you serious?? I was expecting a cartoon about this girl saving her friend from a poacher, but it looks like they're making a cartoon about a POACHER guy who gets in the way of a teenage girl. I don't have any expectations for Bestiale, but as an osamodas fan, I was really looking forward to this series specifically because of Yrehn - and now she's being overshadowed by someone who used to only appear in an early poster. And I don't care if he's cool, a good father(yes, fatherhood doesn't mean anything, it's a cheap trick), and can cook - now I'm not going to like this character, even though his type's one of my favorites.

It would have been so much cooler if he stayed a villain (hello, i am a villain enjoyer) - but apparently Ankama lacks guts i guess. Plus, he would have been fresher and more interesting if he was a sacrier or a sram instead of the typical Iop. Remember the sacrier fight scenes? I think those two would have had so much more potential!

Anyway, I just hope Yrehn's arc doesn't get overshadowed. I'm really upset

🐉5) "Year of Osamodas";

And as a conclusion, I will add that this year Tot declared the year of Osamodas, deciding to start with a series where Yrehn (osamodas) shares the place of the main character with an iop, who is given so much attention that there is no budget left for the animation of the FIRST PROTAGONIST's tail. Oh, and there is also a whole game about iops coming out, where the main character is Karn's daughter, also an iop, obviously (but she also could be any other race since she's adopted) .Perhaps Yrehn will appear there. Happy year of Osamodas, thanks for your attention!))

(Sorry if it's too emotional or too many mistakes ,my English is not so good)

[avissapiens]

Himbull Summer 2024

(Long post ahead but worth the read)

I was intending to do something like this again this year but a previous ask really started the gears turning into motion. I really consider last year’s Jockbull summer experiment to be one of the most impactful changes I've made in a lot of ways. I’m still feeling some of the impacts and changes in my life on a permanent basis. I’ve got new friends I made through the process, new appreciation of style and whole new skillsets that I wouldn't have developed otherwise. Which is why I'm super excited to do this again but with a few adjustments to refine the concept and hopefully reap even deeper rewards for my own growth. I will be running this from Nov 15th 2024 - Feb 15th 2025.

I’ll explain some of the adjustments very briefly before I explain the plan and how you all will be able to interact with it.

We’ve cut down from 15 tasks over 3 plans to just 8 over 2. 

This year by popular demand the archetype’s I’ll work on growing and encapsulating will be Himbo and Bull. This was voted on by the lovely paid Patreon supporters. With the final votes looking like this

I will only be doing 1 plan with a partner this year. That partner is Abgsado as we did last year and you all can keep track of his progress on discord in his own dedicated channel.

The plans

As I noted above this year rather than 3 plans of 5 tasks we only have 2 plans of 4.  15 tasks was way too much as evidenced by the fact that I would regularly only get a fraction done.

PLAN A

This is the more Bull-centric side of the Himbull summer, focused not just on taking the most of this current bulking period, but also on expanding and centering my mind to possibilities for growth. This is the plan Abg and I developed together using a structure of 1 personal task, 1 task granted by the other, 1 task we compete at, and 1 task where we took some inspiration from the discord community.

Task 1 is my personal task and will involve a stronger supplementation regime with the goal of increasing anabolism, libido, strength and focus over the coming months. What that entails on a practical basis is cycling 2 new supplements into my routine every month. Recording notable changes or improvements from baseline. And keeping consistent dosing schedules.

Task 2  was granted by Abg and focuses on playing around with atypical perspectives and archetypes for growth and change outside of my usual 5/6. I intend to do that by creating some more improvisational mini trances exploring some new growth/corruption-adjacent ideals. These will also be on a biweekly schedule and depending on how I feel released at different levels of exclusivity.

Task 3 is the competitive task for both Abg and I. We both want to expand our fitness socials on sites like Instagram and shift ourselves more into the muscle lifestyle sphere of influence.

Task 4 is the task synthesized from suggestions from discord. We’re gonna fuse the Himbo and Bull gym loops together and dedicate ourselves to listening to it on 2 training days per week. Let ourselves really get mindfucked by the muscle chaos.

PLAN B

 This is the more himbo coded plan. No specific structure however for this set 1 is a personal task and 3 were given by some of my top-tier himbo advisors. So big thanks to them, including @thejockout. Task 1 is the personal task. Similar to last year’s task regarding disposing of certain clothes, this year is going to be about purchasing things that I think are gonna draw more attention my way. I’m gonna aim for a new Himbo Aesthetic component every 2 weeks. And I’m going to force myself to wear each component at least twice in public, not just at the gym.

Task 2 is about making semi-permanent changes to my look in some form or fashion, beyond just clothes. These are gonna be fairly big so i think i might do them on a Monthly or maybe tri-weekly basis so i get 3-4 Big changes out of the process. Bit scared for this one.

Task 3 is gonna be interesting. It’s about putting myself forward to be used as a muscular physical being more often. Lifting, pushing, carrying. Doing the physical aspects of work. Very golden retriever farm boy himbo. “I can get that for you, ma’am. Not a problem”. Part of this summer I’ll be doing an internship at a lab. So in addition to being an academic weapon I’ve also gotta make sure this muscle is both functional and for show.

Task 4 focuses on being a bit more of a slut when I'm in public or around my friends. Putting a bit more sauce on my normal speaking voice, being a tiny bit more touchy feely with people who I know it's safe and kosher to do so with, flirting a bit more liberally.

Engagement

Like last year, I want you all to watch me and interact with this journey. But we’re changing it up a little this year. You’ll be able to get 4 different sources for this journey, all of varying intensity and completeness.

The standard base will be a monthly update released on tumblr synthesizing the whole month of activity with some notable events and reflections on them. These will be free and also probably either cross-posted or linked on Patreon. The next level will be more granular fortnightly updates available to all paid patrons, these will include some sticking points, things I’m struggling with. And I might even ask for suggestions for how to tackle tasks I have problems with. I will also like last year be doing fortnightly voice diaries which will likely be similar to the two above but maybe with some extra impromptu thoughts thrown in, again at the paid patreon tier.

And finally, in twitter’s dying gasp(not even gonna link it but you know how to find me) and a begrudging attempt to strike while the iron is hot on bluesky, I’ll also be doing a lot more frequent if less thought through crossposts on those two sites.

If you by any chance want to help me in any of these tasks and have a personal hand in molding me as I’ve molded you then I can provide two options for support. 1st, as always, consider subscribing to my Patreon at any paid tier, but the $5 level is imo the best value for money. 2nd, I have opened up a Throne account(wishtender 2.0) with specific wishlist items geared toward different HBS tasks(namely A1, A 3, and B1). It’d be really hot for everyone to have some of those get ticked off during the summer. And folks who help out in this way will get a shout out in the relevant update.

I really hope this is an amazingly fun experience for you all and an absolutely transformative one for me. At the end of this I’ll be going into my final Bachelor’s year in this country. I want to be the hottest, buffest, and best I've ever been for these super low stakes classes. Let's make it happen folks!

  (Models for this Himbull Summer are Kieran Yawson and Trkennet)

[tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors]

you mentioned in the tags of that burnout post that its been 6 years and you still havent gotten to everything you wanted to in laoft, just out of curiosity are there any fics youve had in mind since the beginning/early on that youre still planning on writing but havent yet?

mostly prequels ive referenced but never gotten around to actually writing

the time as young teens/middle schoolers roman fell out of tree, hit his head and lost consciousness and logan had a week-long catastrophic meltdown about it (this is titled 'logan and the terrible horrible no good very bad week' in my documents)

a fic about very early LAMP dealing with/talking out romans habit of agreeing to or initiating things he doesnt actually want to do in order to protect himself from anything he perceives as them being mad at him

midquel during what you choose to put in the ground, were patton and logan discuss roman the day after meeting him and whether or not theyre going to try and be his friend

Virgil misunderstanding a human cultural thing because of movies/tv and assuming its like, Legally Required Of Him to ask permission of LMPs parents to marry them, so he goes to shelley first sweating bullets and shelleys like 'oh sweetheart' and we get a little bonding moment for them

more companions to Wit where i show all of the lamp combos moment of Realization when they fall in love

silly tea leaf reading fic that been languishing 3 sentences long for like 5 years

may and night!roman the first time she teaches him magic

logans flower shop opening

death threat jar.... TWO

gc goes camping

may and roman visiting abby's grave when he's a kid (9-10) and him feeling conflicted about it because he doesnt remember her/worrying he doesnt love her 'enough'

a more bittersweet companion to Requiem with Linda and Remus and their families

i really want to do more guidebook entries but i got a new computer and lost my copy of clipstudio and cant figure out how to get it back XD so i have to wait until i figure that out or buy a new copy

May + virgil hurt/comfort reminiscing about Greta and Trudi.

Dot and Larry romance fic featuring alternating cheerleader and heckler abby

analogical word association games (analogical because logan has a ginormous vocabulay and virgil is hundreds of years old, so the goal winds up being trying to say a word the other doesnt know or doesnt know enough words to play off of)

We've had badass protective LAM but i have one for Patton thats languishing as well

Virgil stumbling up on the Gage's hunting blind, which used to be Greta and Toby's house and is now derelict

fae specific idioms vs wickhills specific idioms

fire poker drama with roman and dot - he finds out about it and is uuuuuh. unhappy, to say the least

roman doing knot/weaving/braiding magic like his mom on his and linda's hair

a day in the life of dr. emile picani the only psychotherapist in a town full of magically traumatized people only he is qualified to treat (AKA So Much Pressure)

Dot and Larry with a very young Logan realizing that they have a child who physically can't lie and that it would therefore be extremely easy for them to violate his boundaries and privacy without even meaning to, and them talking about how to handle that

theres other stuff in the someday file, but these are the once ive had from or almost from the start

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics that feature badass Louis. If you enjoy our rec lists and want them to continue, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Bite | Mature | 10,980 words

Louis is a vampire hunter, and Harry is too happy being his prey.

2) Don't Call Me Angel | Mature | 16,648 words

Manhattan is a dangerous playground for the rich and entitled Alphas of New York. Those same wealthy Alphas are robbed after spending one night in the presence of a blue-eyed Omega and Officer Styles is assigned to the case.

3) Friendly Neighborhood Spideypool | Explicit | 18,705 words

“Don’t fuck with me, I’m not in the mood.” Louis’ got the urge to punch him in the face, but he knows deep down that if anything it’ll just add fuel to Harry's innuendo fire. “You know I only fuck you, not with you. There’s a difference. It’s slight but still there.” He’s joking, but it’s sincere in a way that only Deadpool could make it. It gives Louis a strange mix of emotions, his body doesn’t know whether to fill with butterflies or to knee Deadpool in the balls again for insinuating them fucking.

4) Death Wish | Explicit | 22,067 words

Louis hates vampires, he lives his life trying to kill as many as he can, night after night, year after year. He hates them. Then why the fuck is he kissing one? Again. “I mean it, Harry.” Louis says, into his mouth this time. “You need to get the fuck away from me.”

5) The Games We Play | Explicit | 23,488 words

Louis is a political lobbyist who chose his career over his personal life a long time ago and has never regretted it. Then he met Harry.

6) The Voice Of Range And Ruin | Explicit | 25,470 words

It seemed as if the freshly formed Omega Uprising had always been a step or two ahead of the Commandant and the rest of the reigning Alphanian officials. The idea had been floated that there must be someone working with them from the inside, reporting back to them on the government’s plans so that they could be prepared. That person had yet to be discovered, and the Commandant and his surrounding forces had finally had enough of this game of cat and mouse. Harry understood. He agreed. It needed to come to an end, one way or another.  “Your job is to navigate their landscape and gain entry into their forces. You will pretend to be one of them and gain reliable intel for us. It’s clear that no one else has been capable of doing it, and you at least have some semblance of experience in this field. This has gone on for too long, Harry. Enough is enough.” He made direct eye contact with his son, holding it. “I’m counting on you.” 

7) Now Is The Winter Of Our Discontent | Explicit | 28,832 words

Where Harry is leading an army to overthrow the king of Cheshire and Louis is one of the volunteers who joins them along the way.

8) You Fill My Lungs With Sweetness (Can I Be Close to You?) | Explicit | 29,884 words

Busy picturing Harry’s stupid face on the stupid dummy, Louis goes through a series of kicks before returning to a low guard and cycling through punches. Harry’s still talking, gesturing with his hands as he rounds Louis, standing to his back. “You do a few butt-shaping exercises, tighten this up a little bit,” he smacks Louis’ arse and the omega freezes while Harry cheerfully continues, “you could pull this off.” “You know what?” Louis snaps, lifting on his tiptoes to get the leverage so he can wrap his arm around the alpha’s neck, forcing him to bend in half while Louis locks him in a chokehold. “Pull this off,” he snarls. They stagger over a few steps, Louis gritting his teeth as Harry tries to break free. “Is it because Payne hates me?” he complains, voice edging on an annoyed whine, “Or is it, like, an omega thing?” Too late, Louis realizes that Harry has got a grip on his leg and this time as he pulls against Louis’ hold, it loosens, the alpha lifting him in the air before slamming his back into the mat, breaking Louis’ grip completely. Harry kneels on the mat, hovering over him with a sneer, “Don’t kid yourself. Nobody thinks of you that way.”

9) Just Let Me Adore You | Not Rated | 34,913 words

The one where Louis and Harry shouldn't make sense. Where Louis' past and Harry's present intermingle and no one is thinking straight.

10) Not Everything is So Primitive (Oh, but I’m Giving In) | Explicit | 35,809 words

“Okay, hold your bloody horses, I’m coming,” Niall rips open the door, freezing at the sight of Harry, bloody and disgruntled, standing on his doorstep, “What the hell happened to you?” “My husband,” Harry grumbles, pushing past Niall and walking into his entryway, “He tried to kill me,” Harry pauses, turning to Niall and grabbing his shoulders, “He tried to kill me with his fucking car.”

11) Burning Soul | Explicit | 39,513 words

Louis is a rogue Omega wolf, all he wants is a new start. Will he allow himself to fully embrace what awaits him, or will he run again, too damaged by past hurt?

12) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40,867 words

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape. Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago. This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

13) No Easy Choice, But You're Mine | Explicit | 45,603 words

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

14) Falling Without Caution | Explicit | 50,350 words

Louis Tomlinson, a wanted criminal, was captured by the FBI after years of chasing. Instead of being locked up in a high-security prison, he was offered a deal. What was supposed to be the end of a decade long chase turned into a morally grey circumstance for Agent Styles.

15) Let Your Damage, Damage Me | Explicit | 57077 words

A low and dangerous growl was ripped from the future King’s chest. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” the alpha snarled, eyes dark and nostrils flared. Even as anger rushed through him at the alpha’s brutish display, Louis felt breathless at the intense gaze of the man that was going to be his future mate. ‘Tomorrow I’m going to be under all that. He will be inside me, all muscles and rage.’ Louis felt his cheeks heat again, but refused to be cowed. So he put his best smirk on display, the one alphas despised to see, the one that assured them all he had the upper hand. “Thought you were expecting me, dear husband. I’m your future mate.”

16) Men of Steel, Men of Power | Explicit | 58,849 words

“You’ve been watching me,” Styles said. Louis swallowed around nothing. He tried for light. “You’re the newest addition, people are bound to be curious,” he said. “Sure,” said Styles, in a somewhat condescending tone. “I’m not that daft, I do notice the curiosity regarding my clothes. That’s not what you’re doing though, hm?” Styles’ gaze was intense, and Louis could feel it burn on the side of his face, but kept his eyes stubbornly on the coffee cup. “I,” he said, licked his lips. Took a deep breath, tried to look open, confident, dominant. Alpha.

17) Somethin' Bout You | Explicit | 59,855 words

Of all the government agents in the world, Louis had to go and land the most charming one.

18) The Face Of Love's Rage | Explicit | 67,421 words

“What if I tell you,” the princess said slowly, “I can get you five kingdoms and a lover?” Harry’s brows rose. “Only five?” he said mockingly. “And a lover. Don’t forget the lover.” “I have a lover.” “Do you?” the omega tilted her head, smiling, “I think right now, you have a consort, two friends, and a hostage. If you marry Julien, you will lose a friend and gain another hostage. Do you want him as a hostage or as a friend?” Harry’s temper was about to snap and break all hell loose. His hands itched to do something with the wild creature in front of him, with her untamed spirit that seemed to mock his authority and challenge his very presence. Abigail Tomlinson, with all her secrets and sins, defied not only his status, but everyone who dared to get in her way. Always making everyone aware that the only reason she was still there wasn’t because Harry let her, but because she wanted to be. Seven kingdoms, two sinners and one big secret.

19) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80,582 words

Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.

20) The Rose Of Whitechapel | Mature | 100,182 words

Jack the Ripper au - Detective Constable Harry Styles and his partner, DC Liam Payne, lead the case on the Whitechapel murders. Louis Tomlinson, the Rose of Whitechapel, is harbouring secrets of his own, along with a dark and sordid past. When their paths cross, truths are revealed, and perhaps hearts are mended... A darkness is brewing, and it's finally come to collect on the promise it was made.

21) Gloria Regali | Not Rated | 100,985 words

"I am very proud of you," Louis admitted, his eyes displaying his conviction, "you are very brave and ridiculously determined." Harry looked at him, as he shook his head, reaching out to his hand, he held it, "Trust me, it is not enough." "What makes you say that?" "Because if it was, you would have been married to me."

22) The Galaxy's Edge | Explicit | 113,921 words

In which Louis is a bounty hunter with a messed up past. Harry is a prince who just wants to prove himself. Niall and Zayn have too many things to figure out together. And Liam just wants to take care of his family. Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.

23) Run Like the Devil | Explicit | 139,152 words

Note: This fic has mentions of BH.

Harry stops pouting, but his frown is still fixed in place. “Are you sure?” he asks. “You know it’s your soul you’re signing away.” He sounds…sad? No, that’s not right, but there’s something. Christ. This is the most incompetent demon Louis’ ever met. If he hadn’t seen the red of his eyes he wouldn’t believe he was a demon at all. How’d he get this job if he isn’t trying to convince Louis to deal? Or is it just another trick? A ploy for sympathy? “I’m sure,” Louis says. “Come over here and kiss me.”

24) Only You Can Be My Alpha | Mature | 212,387 words

In a world where one was either an Alpha or an Omega wolf, Louis found himself in a body that could be neither. Born an Omega without the expected characteristics of one, he felt broken, choosing to live as Alpha a lifestyle as he could. Harboring a serious lack of respect for Alphas and their authority complexes, Louis managed to get himself banished from his home, forced to wander the unforgiving woods for years, facing the elements and fighting enemy rogues each time they arose. Unbeknownst to Louis, in a tribe to the southwest of his home, there lived a dysfunctional Alpha, the orphaned pack leader Harry, who had never felt satisfied enough with anyone to settle down and continue his royal line. Living their lives apart thus far, the both of them assumed that they might be alone forever, making the best of things despite this even though it hurt. Chance, luck, or maybe fate brings Louis to this tribe when he’d least expected to receive kindness and shelter from a stranger, and when he arrives, something in his soul pulls him to Harry like a raging river current. The two don’t get off to a good start, but everyone around them can sense the chemistry—and in time they do too.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

The anon who sent the malleus ask. While there are some characters in twst cast that I tolerate there is just the Octavinelle trio that I dislike significantly. There actions during book 3 just made my blood boil. Vil was also on that list but he managed to redeem himself somewhat in book 6. At least he apologised. Can't say the same for merfolk trio. I'm curious though. Despite what they were doing to everyone (especially yuu) they are still very popular within the fandom. Your thoughts?

… Which Malleus ask?? I have several in my inbox and queue 💦

I think it's important to first establish that people do not always base whether they like/dislike a character based on the morality of the actions that character made in-universe. TWST is a game with a wide variety of characters, and a game which centers on both the good and the evil that they are capable of. Some characters apologize for their actions (Riddle with his apology tart, Vil at the start of book 6, Idia mumbles a sorry at the end of book 6), others don't or may have apologized off-screen (Jamil, Leona, Azul). We shouldn't expect them all to react to their issues in the same way, and nor does lack of a formal apology mean they do not feel remorse or aren't addressing their issues on their own way. For example, while we may not see Azul utter a "sorry" to anyone, we do see him and the twins changing up the business model at the Mostro Lounge after his OB, both in terms of food/drink sales and in terms of how to get one of his well-sought-after consultations. Many of the students, the OB boys in particular, do dubious things and that was a huge part of the advertising and marketing for TWST (and still is to this day); the franchise largely pulls fans who are interested in these types of narratives.

This brings me to Octavinelle. Was what they did scummy? Yeah. Do people have a right to judge them and dislike because of what they did? Also yes. But they remain popular anyway because the wrongs they committed are not the only things defining them. You have Azul's backstory, the complex friendship-business partnership deal between the trio, the very cohesive mermaid mafia theme--and, despite all the bad they've done, you can't also help but respect and admire them for the intelligence and planning it takes to carry out the operations that they do (+ using that asset when they return to help in book 4). Running a restaurant on their own AND Azul's... other business... while also being students and participating in clubs is nothing to sneeze at. They have redeeming qualities that fans love outside of being upset at them or holding them accountable for book 3.

I think what also helps to offset the evil of their actions in book 3 is the fact that it can be argued the 225 students they suckered "opted in" (and Yuu "opted in" too, it’s not like Azul forced them to sign). They came to Azul of their own free will seeking help, and Azul provided that help. He laid out the conditions and made them VERY clear, and it was the students who agreed to his terms and signed on the dotted line. Technically Azul did nothing "legally wrong" and played by the rules (respecting client confidentiality, taking advantage of loopholes), which is why Crowley cannot intervene. And, as Leona states later in book 3, anyone who falls for Azul's schemes is dumb and only has themselves to blame for thinking there is such an easy way out to their woes. Yes, it was dirty for Azul and the twins to interfere and/or set up the conditions in their favor, but there's also a degree of responsibility on the signers to read the terms and consider where the contracts may be deficient.

My point is, people will like what they like and it doesn’t solely come down to the righteousness (or lack thereof) of the characters’ behavior. I’d also say that behaviors themselves don’t always fall into “good” or “bad” categories. Azul’s contracts themselves are technically neutral. Other times, it depends on perspective. For examples, Malleus deems his actions in book 7 "good" but to everyone else it's "bad"--and the players, looking on, have to grapple with the dual nature of it. That's a discussion for another time though, I don't want to go too out of the scope of this ask.