#i'm not main tagging this one lol this is a bit strong

[pyrriax]

Can I get a 7 and/or 25 for the ask game?

can do!

7. What character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how the fandom acts about them?

honestly? c!owen! like i have no qualms with him in canon, i enjoy a good "twist" villain (even though it was frankly foreshadowed from the start, it was just really subtle). but the fandom definitely kinda made him. not what he is?

people wanting him to always be a good person / not being fucked up is honestly just wild and it really is why i'm starting to hate him lol (it's also why i'm writing fics of him being an irredeemable dick of a man. i'm feeding the ecosystem of c!owen not having to be good.)

25. Common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

see above lol

[phyrestartr]

Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.3)

W/C: 3.1k #SFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, mentions of death, yuuji has entered the chat, gojo has entered the chat, idky this got sad tho lol

A/N: This bit made me very sad please suffer thank you!!! Also the main story will be wrapping soon (I think next part will be the last part?) and then after that, it'll probably be drabbles! There might be a 'sequel' that touches on the culling games tho because b r u h they've got some down time during that arc so hfhfhfhfhghghf imagine what I could do--

tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah

A strict no-contact order had been placed on Yuuji, and, subsequently, Sukuna. Neither were to come into contact with you while you recovered, and neither were to be alone with you considering the control-slip incident. 

Still, the curse had been rampant in the young man’s mind, constantly pacing back and forth just behind his consciousness, waiting patiently as a predator should for Yuuji's guard to go down. Granted, even if Yuuji was caught by surprise, it'd still be near impossible to overtake the peppy twenty year-old. Sukuna didn't have an explanation, but it was what it was. 

He would have gladly seized control now, when you'd somehow managed to slip away from your recovery prison and get comfortable in Itadori Yuuji's bed. Sukuna would have slaughtered everyone at the academy for a second to touch you again, to breathe you in.

But the brat finally realized something was off, and woke to find your head tucked under his chin, his arms slung across your waist. Your breath fanned across his collarbone, tickling the sorcerer's touch-starved skin and feeding the fire burning in his cheeks–Sukuna, though, didn’t seem pleased his host was the one touching you. Yuuji counted that as a victory. 

Suck it, dickhead.

Hm? A stranger’s voice rippled instead of the king's. 

Yuuji jolted, his blood growing cold for a second before recognizing that voice–it came from that tidal wave of memories. But it didn't tick him off the way Sukuna's did. It was…nice.

Uh…you can hear me? Yuuji wondered. He tried to envision his voice as loud and clear as possible to help it reach you. 

Your brows twitched in your daze. Yes, I can hear you. There's no need to shout. 

Oh. Sorry. Uh, how'd you get in here? 

The door. 

Oh. Cool. Yuuji shifted a little. I'm not really supposed to, y'know, make contact with you or–

But you're warm. Your nails lightly dragged across his back, leaving trails of tingly pinpricks dancing across his skin. Yuuji swallowed a moan. God, why did the littlest touches feel so nice? 

Y-Yeah? My grandpa used to say I ran hot. Like a furnace or somethin’. 

I agree. You burn like firewood. And you smell warm. Like cedar and honey. You stretched languidly, and the younger stayed put, not strong enough to pull away from your praise and touch. Your teasing fingers raked through his hair daintily, and this time Yuuji did moan. Just the slightest bit before he snapped his mouth shut and bit his lip. 

You leave me wondering how you taste. 

“What?” Yuuji squawked. Your eyes lazily opened a crack, seemingly put off by the sudden break in room silence. It gave the sorcerer an opportunity to admire the golden glints of divinity hidden in the hue of your iris. 

But he found fear in that moment, too. Yuuji knew what most didn't–the curse sealed inside of him thought you to be his equal. You were the only beast Sukuna would bow before, the only one whose attention he craved and sought in his reign. 

You were, in a way, a king yourself.

Do you think I'll eat you, Yuuji? 

“I–uh–you–well–” Yuuji fumbled exceptionally, choking on flustered words. “I just--Sukuna ate people, right? So, uh. Maybe you did too?” 

You looked him over for a moment. Your gaze traced the cute curve of the younger's nose, the petite fangs worrying at his bottom lip, the caramel swirl of his eyes. He looked so much like Sukuna. It made you wonder. 

I've eaten humans, yes, You agreed, nonchalant. Do you want me to eat you?

“Eat me?” Yuuji deadpanned, unsure if he should feel just bothered or hot and bothered. “I, well–”

No. Sukuna’s voice cut like ice through Yuuji’s mind. For a second, it scared him. It reminded Yuuji of what exactly Sukuna was. What he’d do. 

So what would you do?

“Hey,” Yuuji started, suddenly calm, serious. “Why’re you on Sukuna’s side? You don’t seem like a bad person.”

You took a deep second to think before sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. Your tails curled weakly around your clothless frame, swallowing up any spot a young man’s curious gaze might wander in the secrecy of night. Maybe you’d been in this situation before. 

“‘Good.’ ‘Bad.’ We all have different definitions.” Your voice rattled and scraped out your tired throat, yet you didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. “I do what pleases me: garden, sew, eat. Sometimes, I may cause harm in the process. I care sometimes, and I don’t others. Does it make me evil to choose what I care about?” 

Yuuji’s head started to ache. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with your fancy, archaic way of speaking, but he was sure as hell gonna try. 

The younger sat up, too, and ruffled up his hair. “I mean. Don’t you wanna try to, y’know, not hurt people? Not cause harm, ‘n stuff?”

“Is fire wicked? Or does it simply exist?” You posed. “In the control of man, it is sacred. It cooks food, illuminates the dark, cloaks you with warmth. Yet it burns down trees. Swallows homes. Devours crops. Kills.” 

You looked at Yuuji, rose-wrapped eyes resentful of something the sorcerer could not know. “Man regards fire as a blessing when controlled, yet it is a curse when it runs free with nature–existence, the black and white of the world, is in the eye of the beholder.” 

Yuuji didn’t like how much that made sense to him. Objectively, Sukuna was bad. He killed. He murdered for fun. He ate people–

Yet your words, your pretty way of speaking and philosophies gave Yuuji pause. It didn’t click, despite igniting grim sparks in the cogs hidden far behind his eyes. He already made his mind up about good and evil, yes and no, white and black, and yet–

You poked him in the forehead, between his eyes, and Yuuji blinked. 

“It’s merely food for thought, Yuuji.” Why did you know his name again? “Don’t burden yourself with making decisions or anything of the sort. I suppose my answer was long-winded in regards to your question.” 

“Yeah, kinda,” he laughed, rubbing his cheek. “But, uh…it helped, I guess.” Yuuji pulled your hand down from poking him. “You don’t think Sukuna’s bad,” he concluded.

“I think he was a force of nature.” Your head tilted. Your eyes softened. “A monster to some, a god to others.” 

“‘N to you?”

Your eyes caught the morning light, iris reflecting with waking embers. 

“He was everything.”

Gojo thought you were pretty in the same way Getou was pretty; you were handsome with fine features, you radiated with odd power, and you spoke with unmatched poise and purpose it almost made the man’s ego swoon. 

But you looked tired as Getou had, too. Skin void of blushing warmth, eyes distant and hazy, dark circles pulling your gaze away from him. He didn't like it. It made him remember that cold hand ripping his heart to pieces. 

“Look who’s awake!” Gojo cheered as he sauntered toward you, hands in his pockets and a smile adorning his face. “Hungry? I could getcha some–”

“You were listening, were you not?” You wondered, running your bony fingers through matted fur systematically. Your split nails picked and clawed through tangles and knots thoroughly, as though it’d make a difference in your beat-up appearance. 

Gojo tilted his head before settling down in the seat beside your bed. “Hm? Me? Listening? To–”

“Yuuji and I.”

“Ah! You mean the night you snuck out to do some naughty, naughty things with my student?” 

You deadpanned fiercely, looking at him the way someone else used to. “Ha. Hm. Surely you jest.”

Gojo waggled his brows as much as he could, hoping they’d peek out over the top of his blindfold. “Hah, you think I don’t know what my sweet, precious Yuuji does behind closed doors? I know everything! I’m–”

“You misunderstand,” you cut him off, looking more and more concerned with each passing second. “You are a teacher? Why? How? This does not seem ethical.”

Gojo died. Rather, his pride did. Which was essentially his lifeforce. 

“What are you–okay, I’m just gonna chalk it up to you being cranky after getting woken up, alright? I’ll give you a pass. Just once!” Gojo nodded as a benevolent creature should. “You should thank me.”

“I’d rather not.” You sighed and returned to your grooming. “If you wish to interrogate me, I require food first. Tofu, specifically”

Gojo laughed. “Man, you are one high-maintenance god. Alright, you want normie tofu, or agedashi tofu?” 

You blinked and looked at him, curious. 

“Agedashi tofu?”

You really liked agedashi tofu. You liked the little sauce it came with, you liked the other random shit Gojo bought to try and win over your compliance–well, honestly, he also just wanted an excuse to shower someone with the food and snacks he liked. It’d been a long time since he’d had the privilege to. 

“So,” Gojo said as he popped the marble into the ramune bottle for you and handed it over, “About you and Sukuna.” 

“Mhm?” Your eyes glittered in fascination as you took the drink and examined it from all angles, carefully tilting it here and there to watch the blue bubbles rise to the top as the glass ball rolled and spun in its tiny prison. 

Gojo almost lost his train of thought watching you, but he reigned it in quickly.

“Seems like you were close.” Were was important. You'd referred to the menace in past tense when speaking with Yuuji–clearly, you didn't realize the curse resided within the young sorcerer. Best to keep it that way.

You pursed your lips in thought for a moment.

“I suppose. Why?” 

“I'm just nosy!” 

“I know that already. But there exists intelligence behind your annoying behaviour.” Your gaze slid to him, staring through the veil of fabric and straight into his eyes. “You're a monster like he was, aren't you?” 

“Hah?! Rude!” Gojo whined, but regained composure just as fast. “Seems your intuition is pretty good, huh?”

“It's simply an understanding of nature.” 

“Is that what pulled you to him? His nature?” 

“No. I was given to him. As a gift. By a clan of sorcerers.”

“Huh. A gift.”

“Yes. The harvest festival required as much. He was revered as a godly creature. Something to be feared.” 

“And so were you,” Gojo guessed, and you frowned and looked away, instead picking through the treats and snacks brought to you. 

“The people saw us very differently.”

Sukuna didn't walk through the city below often–not until you decided you liked it down there. 

Finding out that you walked through those streets alone sent a trill of something unpleasant up Sukuna's spine; knowing you were alone, vulnerable and under the eyes of so many that so often cursed Sukuna and wished him dead made him…uneasy, maybe. You could handle yourself. Sukuna simply couldn't handle the disrespect.

But things weren’t as he assumed.

You walked through town, and the people revered you as they would Amaterasu incarnate. Most didn't address you, but all saw and accepted your presence with grace and kindness, nodding or flickering small smiles as you passed by with the king trailing behind. 

Sukuna could understand; you'd become something astoundingly breathtaking. Lush, full tails dipped and swayed as you walked with the poised elegance of royalty, the feeling only enhanced by the careful, intricate way you presented yourself in your attire. Sukuna knew you felt beautiful. You were beautiful. 

“It's (Name!)” A child cried, and Sukuna fought the urge to punt the little shit into the restaurant across the road when the tiny human grabbed at your clothes. 

But you smiled. You actually smiled when you patted the girl on the head and said your sweet hellos before ushering her along after her mother. The corners of your eyes crinkled for once, showing that, yes, you'd aged and felt joy and become so perfect because of it. And when you cooed sweet farewells to passing little ones, your fangs flickered against the colour of your lips, just for a second. 

Your gilded gaze caught his carmine stare, and you tilted your head. 

“Sukuna.” You held your hand out to him, and he took it. He had no choice. He was only human, and you were God. Walking through a city of mortals.

He let you lead on, wandering to the shops where you bought thread and fabric for your stupid little projects with money he didn't even know you had. You could have just taken everything you wanted, especially with the king stood right by your side, but you eased the shopkeeper's nerves with kind words and ample pay. 

Sukuna all but picked you up and launched you both back home the second you were done meandering. He had a job to do; he had to fully commit to siring a runt.

Now, Gojo didn't need to know all that, but it didn't stop your mind from wandering to that night; it was the first time he looked at you like that. It was the first time he decided against lording his power over you, instead holding you close and taking things slow. You missed it. You yearned for the night he stopped seeing you as a toy and saw you as you. The night he finally learned your name.

“They viewed me as something divine,” you continued, digging out of the warmth of memories. “Perhaps because I walked alongside someone like him.” 

“Well, only gods can walk through a volcano and come out unscathed, no?” Gojo smiled a bit as you looked away, embarrassed. 

“That's a poor analogy.”

“Eh?”

“How would one walk through a volcano? None would even think to get close enough to do so.”

“W-Wait–”

“You would be underground, would you not? With limbs melted, oneself ablaze? And one would not walk but wade through lava.” 

“It's just a metaphor!” Gojo wailed. 

“A poor one.” And you continued to pick through snacks, unbothered that you'd just destroyed the strongest man alive as you munched on cheese-flavoured rice puffs.

Gojo laughed, though. “I can see why he liked you. Supports the theory he's not the one who put you in the coffin.” 

“It wasn't him,” you snapped. Your ears flattened against your skull as you shrunk in on yourself. “At least…not directly.” 

Oh? Gojo leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he laced his fingers together.

“Then who was it? What happened?” 

“I don't fully understand it myself,” you confessed. Your voice was a whisper, cold and lonely like a far North winter. 

“Maybe I can help.” 

You looked to him and back down again. 

“There was a man. A sorcerer. I don't know his name–I never cared to learn it. He was odd.” You tore up little bits of hi-chew wrappers as you spoke. “He asked me if I would sacrifice myself for Sukuna.” 

“And?” Gojo prodded. 

“I would not,” you said. “Sukuna would never need my sacrifice, he'd never need my aid. He was the strongest.” A light frown tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That creature thought otherwise. He mentioned something about additional wombs, but I don't know what that means.” 

Fuck. Gojo nodded politely. “Gotcha, gotcha. What'd this guy look like? You remember?” 

“Unremarkable, save for the odd sutures across his forehead.” 

“Oh? Interesting. Alright, last question, my cute little kitsune–”

“(Name),” you cut in. “Address me as (Name).”

Gojo sparkled. “Waaah, I think our relationship just leveled up to A-tier! One more level and I can romance–”

“Please do not make me hurt you.” 

The white witch whined and deflated against his chair. “Boooring.”

You huffed and flicked your ear. “Ask your question, goblin.” 

Gojo took a breath before he spoke. 

“Are you with child right now?” 

The world changed suddenly. Seal papers coating the walls drowned in bones and flowers as the pungent sweetness of orchids and decay curled around Gojo. Around you, a cage began to rise, jutting out from the earth and encircling you like thousands of rigid arms holding you in an embrace. And your eyes–they shone with abhorrent divinity, outshining even the nine, pristine tails breathing with blackened fire. 

But there was screaming. Two voices intertwined. Little and distant, warped and outraged at–at something. Maybe Gojo? Maybe his accusations, his questions? 

Just when the sorcerer was about to act, your clasped a hand over your stomach, and you whispered with the thrum of a thousand voices:

“Be still.” 

It all moved slowly, then. The phenomenon–the apparent domain expansion–reversed, sinking back into the floors and walls with the soft sound of chittering and cooing taking the place of wicked screeches. You, too, cooed back to the twin voices, placating them with maternal ease. 

Your divinity faded with the last shreds of the illusion. Now, your colours faded further, painting you in desaturated tones of exhaustion and worry. Gojo hated that palette. It'd been used too many times on too many he doted on. God was stupid like that, creating such sad, worrisome colours.

The sorcerer took a deep breath in the silence of the room. He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. He was never good at this kind of thing. His other half was much better at this. 

But he had to try. The look on your face told him he had to try. 

What would he have done?

Gojo’s hand reached out as he leaned forward, and he caught your scarred, bony hand in his own. You didn’t pull away, you didn't fight him, you instead curled your fingers around his and held your breath while your gaze became unseeing, your heart ceased beating just as your breathing had. For a moment, you died.

“I'm sorry,” Gojo whispered. And you nodded. Somehow, he knew it meant, ‘me too.’ 

It was then, touching you, that he could feel the negative energy thrumming beneath a shell of divinity. Two different un-lives coiled inside of you, filled with bitter hate for man and undying love for their mother. For you. It wasn't unlike the bond shared between Yuuta and Rika, but this was not as simple. 

“Your ilk did not approve of Sukuna siring children,” you murmured. Your grip on his hand turned poisonous. “If you try to take them from me–”

“What'll you do?” He asked, knowing they'd never be born. 

“--I will turn everything to ash. Set fire to the skies. Just as I have once already.”

“Good.” Gojo smiled. “You'd be a good mother.” 

“I hope I one day can be.”

The masked menaced nodded again as he idly soothed his thumb across your knuckles. “Never say never, yenno? We'll figure something out for you. If you can do something to help the school–”

“I can give gifts. Once I have the energy.” You didn't sound like you did. Gojo wasn't sure if you ever would.

“Yeah? Like what?” He asked anyway. 

You looked at him, weak and defeated, yet still clinging to life. 

“My divine favour.”

[elsa-fogen]

(About the inside out au)

I think the main emotion for Alastor would be joy, but it would be STRUGGLING. If any other emotion would try to touch the panel joy would bite. The only emotion that could occasionally touch the panel without joy losing it's mind would be anger, but as soon as Alastor is done ripping apart someone joy would go back to biting.

Sadness being banned means that joy bit off it's legs so it's really hard for it to access the panel (but not impossible).

Fear is in a constant war with joy. They are worthy opponents, because Fear also bites.

Disgust is just chilling there. Actually Joy doesn't hate that one. It just occasionally touches the panel when Susan approaches or Angel Dust says something and then goes back to sitting on the couch.

Joy likes to feel like it's in control, but in reality if other emotions really want to take over the panel they will, and Joy is not as strong as it likes to think it is.

LMAOO, BITING JOY IS SO FUNNY JKFSDGHLJHFDG

yall really wanna make me draw something with this don't you

But i have the idea i talked before that there's mini Alastor in his head who controls all the emotions and he may force joy to be the main one and control who and when touches the panel (and fights sadness when needed)

And he also has hate as sepparate emotion, i don't care.

Also i'm making tag for this one so it's easier to find all parts lol

[syd-djarin]

Sugar, Spice & Please Fuck Me Nice (neighbor!joel AU)

chapter one: the new neighbors

*18+ Minors DNI*

Word count: ~2000+

Warnings: FLUFF, nervous reader, a hint of masturbation (f & m), neighbor!joel needs a warning, eventual smut

reader has hair that she fidgets with, "grows warm" /"cheeks burning" but not necessarily blushing, with embarrassment - minor edits to make this more inclusive for my readers <3

Author/s Notes: this is my first fic, so ofc I had to write Joel, and I have a weakness for neighbor!Joel.

this will be a series and I'm so excited to share this :) this is super self-indulgent, making reader based off myself so shameless self-insert kinda? lol

a huge thank you & ily to my babe @katiexpunk for helping me make edits/bouncing ideas and encouraging me to dive into writing <3

Tags: no outbreak AU, neighbor!joel, reader is sweetie pie, age gap (reader is mid-late 20's, joel is late 30's-early 40's in this), dilf!joel, gratuitous descriptions of joel being strong & sexy, f & m masturbation, eventual smut, fluff

AUSTIN, TX  OCT 2005

You’ve lived in this neighborhood for the majority of your life, with the exception of your time in college.

Now that you’ve finished your undergrad, your parents, now retired and living in Maine, have graciously offered for you to stay in your childhood home. It wouldn’t be forever, you think, just until something comes through for you to use your degree on.

The neighborhood hasn’t changed that much through the years; some of the houses got renovations or additions, although many of the homes were the same that they have always been. Many of the people living in the cul-de-sac had known you since you were just a baby, and like to remind you of that more often than you’d like. 

Occasionally a home would go up for sale, and it just so happened that the house directly across the street from yours was one of them – a classic blue Ranch style home, well maintained, albeit a bit outdated, but full of potential. The previous owners lived there for nearly four decades, and the entire neighborhood is antsy to solve the mystery of who’ll move in next.  

You had assumed that the next tenants would be another nuclear family type – the stereotypical, American family - husband, wife, two kids, the works. Much to your surprise, a single father and his daughter were the succeeding residents of the house. A ruggedly handsome single father, at that. 

+++

Move in day came for your new neighbors and just like everyone else who resided here, you couldn’t help but to be nosy, curiosity getting the best of you. 

You discreetly parted your living room blinds, your curiosity at its peak, as your new neighbors began unloading the hefty boxes from their U-Haul and settling into their new abode. You even went to check the mail to get a closer peek, despite having already checked it earlier in the day when it arrived.

You couldn’t help but ogle at the broad-shouldered man lifting boxes as if they weigh nothing. His dark gray t-shirt clings to his biceps for dear life and you feel your pussy involuntarily throb every time he lifts up the bottom of it, bringing it to his forehead to wipe the sweat collecting there, each time revealing his soft tummy and the dark hair that trailed down from his belly button. 

You imagine yourself holding onto those brawny arms, while he pounds- 

Oh my god, get a grip, you internally chastise yourself. It’s been too long since you’ve gotten laid, defending yourself for conjuring up dirty fantasies of a man whose name you didn’t even know. 

You decided you’d go introduce yourself once it appeared that they’d finished unloading the moving truck, not wanting to disrupt or cause an intrusion. 

Baking being one of your love languages, you decide to make your new neighbors your grandma's famous cookies – snickerdoodles and chocolate chip. The recipes don’t call for much, but your grandma swears it’s the love that goes into them that makes them as good as they are. She had taught you to bake at a young age; ensuring you knew the fundamentals, techniques, and the importance of quality ingredients.  She also taught you that the best gift you could give is a dessert, one that requires your time and attention. 

Besides wanting to be a welcoming neighbor, baking provides you with a necessary distraction to your nefarious thoughts about the new neighborhood DILF. Were these cookies for him, sure, but it proved to be quite a successful deterrent from your naughty thoughts, allowing you the space to fully engross yourself in the task of making the dough, folding in the chocolate chips, rolling the batches into little balls, and spacing them out evenly on the tray before popping them in the oven. 

After a couple of hours, the cookies now cool, and the warm autumn sun begins to set. Your home smells of warm sugar, a nostalgia that brings a smile to your face. You peek out the window and notice the moving truck is now gone, and figure now was as good a time as any to introduce yourself. 

You neatly package the goodies into their designated container, draw on your oversized flannel and shoes, and begin your brief trek across the street. As you begin walking down your porch steps you’re hit with a wave of nervousness,  your stomach does backflips and your heart beats faster. Get it together. You take several deep breaths and hold onto the cookie container a little tighter before continuing on your mission. Why are you such a nervous wreck? I mean, it’s just some guy, you (unsuccessfully) try to reason with yourself. 

Reaching the front door, you knock– tap, tap, tap. A brief moment passes, and the door opens, leaving only the space of the doorframe between you and a young girl with wide, curious eyes and beautiful curly brown hair staring back at you.

“Hi there, I’m your neighbor across the street,” you say, gesturing towards your own home, “I wanted to introduce myself – I brought you some cookies, just a little something to say welcome to the neighborhood.”

“Cookies! Ah sweet, I love cookies - what kind?” she asks, not at all trying to hide her fairly obvious interest for them and less in you.

“There’s chocolate chip and a few snickerdoodles,” you reply, giving her an amused smile. 

Her father, the devastatingly handsome one, makes his way up behind her and stands in the doorframe, halfway inside and halfway onto the porch where you stand. He was a sight to behold up close: dark hair that had a loose curls and a beard, both lightly dusted with some grays, chocolate brown eyes you could drown in, a mustache that perched atop plush lips. 

He’s muscled in the shoulders and arms, which act as a nice compliment to his soft torso. He had the kind of  physique that came from hard labor, which only fuels your attraction to him more. 

If this were a cartoon, you were sure your eyes would be bulging out of their sockets in the shape of hearts. 

“Oh, uh–hi,” you say, perhaps an octave too loud. “I was telling your daughter here that I brought over some cookies, you know, as a welcome gift,” you pause, realizing you hadn’t even introduced yourself. “I’m your neighbor, I live just across the way,” you say, nodding to your house. You turn back to face him and fidget with your hair. Through a nervy smile, you manage to give him your name. 

“I’m Joel, this here’s Sarah,” he says, voice gruff and smooth at the same time. He holds out his hand to shake yours. You hope he wouldn’t notice how sweaty your hand is; maybe it’s the nerves, or the still-sticky Texan air, despite it being October. Probably both.  

His palm is warm; worn and calloused in some places, but firm and inviting. You couldn’t help but gawk at how small he made your hand feel in his. He releases your grip; bringing you out of your brief trance, and your eyes once again meet. 

“Welcome to the neighborhood, Joel and Sarah,” you smile and hold out the container of cookies for Joel to take. Before he can even reach up to grab them, Sarah already has her hands on them and has run back into the house, murmuring something that sounds like thanks as she does. 

He had just met you, but Joel couldn’t deny how much he likes hearing you saying his name in your gentle, nectarous voice. 

Your hands now empty, you nervously interlace your fingers and twirl your thumbs, unsure of what to say next. Joel’s eyes take note of the smudge of flour on your cheek – cute. He also notices the flour in the cleft of your cleavage, but he tries not to make that fact obvious. The flour between your breasts stares back at him, but he collects his composure, averting his gaze back to you.  He should point it out to you, he thinks, but you seem shy and he doesn’t want to embarrass you, or scare you away from wanting to come over again. 

“‘Preciate the cookies, sweetheart,” he says, voice low. His eyes stay glued to your face. You avert your eyes downwards and cross your arms, buckling under the weight of his gaze. You felt your cheeks and chest grow hot at his use of sweetheart. 

“I’m just – uh,” you trip over your words, nervous, “I’m just across the street if you need me,” you offer, giggling at the suggestive way that sounds, “you know, like a cup of sugar or anything like that,” you add.

Joel nods in reply, edges of his mouth coming up in a smirk as if to acknowledge your kindness, being careful not to full on grin in amusement of his apparent effect on you. 

“Same to you,” he says before closing the door, perhaps eyeing you a moment too long as you walk away. He turns to enter the house, only to find Sarah staring at him, cookie in hand, and a knowing grin on her face.

“Why didn’t you tell her she had flour all over herself?” she asks, teasing, like she could already tell he was embarrassed to admit the truth. 

“Did she? Hmm, didn’t seem to notice,” he says, trying to hide the lie behind a weak cough, before walking away, cheeks obviously flushed. 

Back in the safety of your own home, you come to a still with your hand pressing on the door, reeling from your interaction with Joel. You were wired up, buzzing with arousal and nerves. 

And God, the way he called you sweetheart. 

You replay the moment over and over in your head, not wanting to forget his Texan twang or the way he looked at you when he said it. You could have died, right then and there. You let your mind run wild, thinking of all the things you wanted to do with him, what you wanted to do to him. 

Needing to relieve the throbbing ache in between your legs, you decide a shower is in order. When stepping into your bathroom, you catch yourself in the mirror. You were mortified at the discovery of the flour on your face and chest. You had been so engrossed with baking the cookies and too anxious about taking them over to Joel’s that you failed to give yourself a once-over in the mirror before heading out the door. The arousal you felt temporarily held precedent, you’d process your embarrassment later. 

You step into the steamy shower and touch yourself, thinking of Joel. You shove two fingers inside your pussy, imagining they were Joel’s long, thick, dexterous fingers. 

Little did you know Joel was having his own feelings about your little introduction. 

Several of his new neighbors come to introduce themselves in the coming days, under the guise of welcoming him and his daughter, but in reality, they wanted to get scoop on who they were. Where had they moved from, what prompted the move, we’re they planning on staying short-term, what did he do for a living, was there a Mrs. Joel Miller? And once they found out he was a contractor, there were a whole other set of questions of “would you mind taking a look at my ____”. 

He liked the neighborhood, and while the people were nice and seemingly mean well, Joel begins to feel irritation at the consistently prying questions, annoyed that people felt like they were entitled answers to begin with. 

But you. 

He was not expecting you. 

Beautiful, endearing, kind eyes, a smile he thought could end wars. You had been sweet and respectful, and didn't appear to have ulterior motives. It made his heart palpitate and sent blood rushing somewhere he knew it shouldn’t. You were young, too young and sweet, too sweet for a man like him. 

Then he saw how you stared at his hands, grew warm and shy when his gaze had lingered too long on you. 

That night, with Sarah tucked into bed, he grabs one of the snickerdoodle cookies, Sarah insisting that he save all of the chocolate chip ones for her, but he doesn’t mind; snickerdoodles are his favorite. 

He bites into the soft cookie, his eyes fluttering shut as he does, an involuntary reaction to the sweet, perfectly soft texture. He lets out a moan, the kind that is elicited when tasting something delicious. 

And the fact that you made them? The thought sends blood straight to his dick. 

Joel, in inner turmoil, was trying to resist the temptation to touch himself to the thought of you. God, if your cookies were this good, so sweet and fluffy, how good would you taste. 

The thought consumes him, the temptation too strong. 

He polishes off more than three of the cookies, before heading to shower. That night he takes his cock in his fist to the thought of you, and your stupidly delicious fucking cookies. 

Joel was a gentleman, sure, but he was also a man. 

And the best way to get to a man’s heart? 

Through his stomach. 

THE END

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Quicksilver Princess Chapter 6

Series summary: A fantasy AU in which Dean is part of a long line of warriors who protect the kingdom. What happens when his rescue of the little princess with the quicksilver eyes gets him a possible future bride?

Series Warnings: Nothing major. Show typical violence. Fantasy violence. Smut. Angst. Fluff. Each chapter will have its own specific warnings. So, watch for those.

Chapter Warnings: None really. A bit of magical violence. A kiss. Some angst.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x OFC (Melissande)

Word Count: 7,907

A/N: First of all - I'm so sorry for the length of this chapter. There was a lot to get through. 😁🫣 Secondly, I'm so unbelievably happy that I FINALLY got to give this story an ending! I've loved writing it, but fantasy is tough! Lol! But I'm happy and proud of the story as a whole, so I sure hope you enjoy this final chapter. And to those of you who've read the story and encouraged me to continue, thank you so much for your patience.

I know OFC's aren't most people's favourites, but I encourage you to give the story a shot, and I hope you enjoy it. ❤️

Series Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

Melissande strained against the chains that held her immobile on the cold, stone table, even though she knew her struggles were pointless. She wasn’t nearly strong enough to break the iron binding her.

Layo’ita began to gather things from around the room, filling the pockets of the long black cloak she wore over her royal finery. She wore no elaborate headdress or hairstyle now, instead the wide hood of the cloak kept her face slightly in shadow. 

She gathered plants and herbs, potions, many colorful crystals, and a small silver dagger, preparing everything, and going about her evil plan while she spoke.

“You have no idea how patient I’ve had to be, how meticulous with every detail.” She looked back to where Yasa stood slumped weakly against the wall. Melissande was terrified by his increased pallor. He raised his head slightly to watch Layo’ita as she continued.

“It would have been much easier if you weren’t such a nosy, troublesome thing.” She said to Yasa, her tone annoyed. “I hadn’t planned on duplicating you until this one turned eighteen.” 

She waved dismissively towards Melissande. “But you just had to galavant off to your beloved Winchesters and try to outsmart me.”

Her smile was shadowed. “I took care of them without much trouble. But their meddling forced me to enact my plan much earlier than I’d wanted. It takes a lot of power and strength to hold on to a Duplicate, to make them seem natural and believable. I certainly wasn’t planning on having to keep it up for a dozen years!” 

She huffed out a breath, clearly feeling put upon. “The difficulty with a Duplicate is that they give a sense, after a while at least, that something isn’t quite right. The smell begins to cause doubt and there can be no contact because of their cold skin. So, on top of everything else I had to take care of, I had to work at changing your reputation, sending out whispers that your brush with assassination had made you afraid and nervous to be around people.” 

Sha laughed lightly. “No one seemed to miss the real you very much, or push to see you. Fooling people got easier as your reputation as kind of a recluse spread.”

She shook her head. “I’ve tried so often to fix the issues with the Duplicates, but I simply couldn’t manage it. It is very frustrating.” She claimed in an annoyed tone. “But it’s why I knew early on that I needed to make you to say goodbye to your visits with this brat and whore wife number four. If you’d kept visiting, they’d have known you too well and recognized the differences very quickly.”

Layo’ita pushed back her hood to reveal another ghoulish grin. “So, I convinced you that my heart was broken, made you believe I actually cared where you spent your nights or how many bastards you fathered.” 

She snickered and looked at Melissande. “It was surprisingly easy to convince him to walk away from you and Hera. Hardly more than a few tears.”

Yasa shook his head. “That’s not true.” He said weakly, looking at Melissande. “It’s not true, poppet. I was just trying to do the right thing.” His body sagged further down the wall. “I’m sorry.”

Melissande shook her head. “I know, Papa, I know. It’s alright, we’re together now; that’s all that matters.”

Layo’ita cackled. “Oh, yes, yes! Together again - but not for long.”

Yasa’s breathing was short and slightly labored, as though standing for so long had sapped him of what little strength he had. His voice was thin, but it held a note of steel as he spoke again.

“Layo, I don’t understand. Where does this hate for me come from? We were friends once, weren’t we? I always tried to afford you the respect and care you deserved. Is this simply because I couldn’t love you? The heart pays little attention to anything but its own tune, you must know that. I did everything I could to honor my duty to you and our son.”

Layo’ita scoffed as she began to chop up some of the plants, along with what looked to Melissande to be a human tongue, tossing them all into a large, gold bowl.

“I couldn’t have cared less whether you loved me or didn’t.” 

Melissande heard a flicker of something in the First Queen’s voice that told her that she did care, much more than she admitted.

“I don’t hate you." She continued. "In fact, I don’t care about you at all, except that you’re in my way. I’ve always known I was born for something great, that the old gods fashioned me for power. But instead, my whole life was simply about learning to be your wife, a mother to future kings who would rule. But never me.”

She stopped chopping and set down the knife, walking closer to Yasa. “I didn’t want you to honor me as the ‘First Queen’ and I never wanted to be your ‘True Wife’.”

Layo’ita shook her head. “My whole life I was taught to stand beside power.” Her voice dipped low. “But I knew I was born to wield it.”

She looked over to Melissande. “But it wasn’t until this bouncing baby brat came into the world that I finally realized just how to make that power mine.”

She went to the small fireplace set into the southern wall and tossed some more of the plants onto the flames. They gave off an acrid scent that made Melissande’s eyes water a little. The Queen stirred them into the low burning flames, watching the plants burn up.

“I didn’t know what she was right away, but I knew she’d be special. I’d heard the legends of course of other Coll family members and ancestors who’d had the quicksilver eyes, but she was the first one in a very long time. And I just knew something like that had to come from magic. So, I began digging into the history of the family.” She paused to look back at Yasa with a smile. “Your aunt would have been proud at how well I learned my lessons from her.”

She shrugged. “It didn’t take long for me to realize you were descended from fairies, and that’s when I knew how to rid myself of you, and take on the power of the crown all for myself.”

Yasa attempted a laugh that came out as a cough. “Come on Layo, you don’t actually believe that nonsense, do you? Do we look like fairies? It’s just an old, silly legend, made up by one of my ancestors, no doubt, to try and make the Coll family seem even more suited and destined for the throne.”

Layo’ita just shook her head with a mysterious smile. “You��re wrong, Yasa. You’ve always underestimated magic. You shouldn’t.”

Melissande heard her father’s words and the strangest feeling came over her; it was like something deep in her soul was shouting out a denial of what he was saying. It wasn’t a legend; it was real. She knew it like she knew how to breathe; it was instinctual, automatic. It was an odd feeling when just the day before she’d had almost the exact same reaction as her father when Rowena told her she was part fey. 

But there was something about being in this place, so completely submerged in magic, that made the reality of her lineage very apparent to her. Something inside was screaming at her to believe, to soak up the magic surrounding her and allow it to flow through her.

Layo’ita stabbed at the fire with a poker until the logs and plants burned together into embers, and then into ash which she scooped up into a smaller silver bowl. She brought it over to the table where Melissande lay, and from inside her pocket she withdrew the silver dagger. She chanted something and then sliced a small, but fairly deep cut in Melissande’s left arm, making her gasp at the sting.

The First Queen rested the silver bowl beneath her arm, collecting her blood as it leaked from her veins. She took the bowl away, allowing the blood to trail down Melissande’s arm and onto the table. Then using the dagger, she mixed the ash and blood together, continuing to chant as she spread the sticky paste that it made, over Melissande’s feet and across her forehead.

The chants turned into a slow, soft song, as Layo’ita began to arrange the plethora of crystals she carried, around the outline of Melissande’s body. When she was done, Melissande felt the crystals warming her up in the cold chamber, each brightly colored stone giving off ripples of heat.

Layo’ita picked up the silver dagger again and approached Yasa. “Duplicating you, keeping the kingdom from knowing the truth, has been exhausting for these last twelve years. Every day, I’ve worried that this would be the day someone figured it out. I simply can’t go on like this forever.”

She shrugged. “So, my answer is to soak up your essence to put into my Duplicate, so he looks real and right. No more traces of sulfur, no more cold skin. But still very much under my control." She smiled. "I've found my solution at last."

She sighed. “Unfortunately, the only way to collect your essence,” she raised the dagger, “is to cut it out of you.”

“No!” Melissande shouted.

Yasa’s pallid face looked defiant and proud as he stood to his full height, in spite of the way his legs shook with exhaustion. Layo’ita looked slightly amused at his pride and defiance.

“You forget yourself, Layo. Do you not recall that you gave me a son, an heir. You can strike me down, but one day he will come  to claim his crown and avenge me in the process.”

The Queen cackled again. “Oh my dear, I would be surprised if he even remembers you. I’ve been assured that he’s quite happy governing in The Lands Beyond and holding on to his own little piece of the world.”

She shrugged again. “But, if the babe I birthed tries to come and claim what I have taken, well, then he’ll meet your same fate.”

The First Queen lifted the dagger, aiming it at Yasa’s heart and Melissande saw it flash in the light of the dying fire as she screamed out her horror.

***

Four more Winchesters had joined Dean’s ranks before they set off from King’s Town, and as it turned out, sixteen experienced and well-trained Winchesters were more than capable of taking down the Guardsmen. 

At the witching hour, under the cover of night, the Winchesters blended into the darkness and silently approached the castle. They split into four groups of four, and each team was charged with securing one of the North, East, South, and West facing entrances. 

They’d agreed at the outset to do everything they could to not kill the guardsmen. Despite their extreme dislike of the order, and the grudge they held against the usurping guardsmen, they all begrudgingly agreed that the soldiers were just doing their duty in protecting the castle. So, they would do all they could to spare them.

But in the end, some of the guards fought bravely and gave the Winchesters a real challenge, but a great many of the guardsmen surrendered as soon as they saw the Winchesters fighting like the Warriors they were. 

Dean, Robert, Jody, and Ketch made up one team, going through the North-facing entrance. There were approximately thirty soldiers at that entrance, and only six of them put up a fight, battling hard. But the Warriors still won handily, with only a broken nose for Ketch and two broken fingers for Jody. 

After they’d been subdued, Dean grabbed one of the more cowardly looking guardsmen and demanded that he take him to Mellie.

“Now!” Dean shouted and the man trembled as he rushed to obey. Dean had to shake his head a little. How on earth had the kingdom stayed safe with these guardsmen as its protectors?

Jody and Ketch stayed to watch over the guards left behind, and to coordinate with the other Warriors to make sure everything was going smoothly in the other battles. Dean and Robert followed the guard down endless flights of stone steps until they came upon the dungeon in the bowels of the castle. 

They left the guard tied up at the entrance to the row of dungeon cells, and proceeded down to the last cell where the guard said Mellie was being held.

They slowed as they approached it, taking extra care with their surroundings, looking for booby traps, or something that would keep them from reaching her at the last minute. 

But nothing appeared to attack them, and they approached the cell. Dean wanted to let out a whoop of relief as he saw Mellie behind the bars, lying on the hard ground.

She’s alive. He thought with cascading relief. 

She was dirty and she shivered slightly in her sleep, but she was alive. Her brow puckered as though she was having bad dreams, but she was alive. Dean approached the bars as he sent Robert back to the guard. 

“Get the key.” He told the older man, who raced off to find it. Dean called softly through the bars.

“Mellie, sweetheart, wake up. Wake up, I’m gonna get you out of here.”

Mellie’s eyes flickered open, and confusion filled her expression for a moment as she sat up. But then she saw Dean and she gave a cry of surprise and happiness.

“Dean!” She jumped to her feet. “Oh Dean, you came! I knew you would.”

She approached the bars slowly, hesitatingly and Dean smiled at her warmly to let her know she was safe. As she drew nearer a slightly foul odor hit his nose, something like rotten eggs, and it made him want to take a step back. But he gave himself a mental shake.

Gods, man, he thought to himself, she’s been snatched up and thrown in a dungeon. What were you expecting her to smell like, roses?

He smiled at her again. “Robert’s gone to get the key, then we’ll get you out of here, somewhere safe, with a couple of Warriors to protect you and Robert and I will stay and demand to speak with your father, and try to find out what’s going on here.”

Mellie nodded. “Please be careful.”

Before he could respond, Robert was back with the key. Dean took it from him and pushed it into the rusted lock, unlocking the cell and pulling open the squeaking door. He rushed inside and ran up to Mellie, taking her upper arms in his hands, intending to pull her close. But when he touched her he was surprised.

“Mellie, you’re like ice.” He said with a frown, chafing her arms. “Robert, see if you can find a blanket somewhere.”

Robert nodded and set off. Dean took Mellie’s icy hand in his, intending to lead her out of the cell. But as her hand slipped into his, a sense of something dark slithered down his spine and suddenly his instincts were screaming at him, warning him. 

He turned to look down at the woman walking beside him, and he was somehow sure something was off. For one thing, Mellie was never this quiet. She should be asking him a thousand questions about how they got in and who was with him. She should be saying “I told you so.” because the Winchesters had listened to him as she’d said they would.

He dropped her hand and stepped back from her. She looked slightly confused and a little hurt. “Dean, what is it?”

Dean shook his head, more sure than ever. He jerked his chin towards her. “I have no idea what you are, sweetheart, but you sure as hell aren’t Mellie.”

Remembering suddenly, Dean reached into the pouch on his hip and pulled out one of Rowena’s magic-revealing bags, and it glowed bright purple. Grabbing a matchbox from the same pouch, he quickly lit a match and then set the bundle ablaze. 

In slight horror, Dean watched as “Mellie” went stone silent and unmoving before she went up in a literal puff of smoke. The air around him radiated the purple color as it thinned to a trail that led towards the back wall.

“Robert!” He called and the elder Warrior ran in, clearly confused by the still settling smoke and the purple air around them.

“It wasn’t her.” Dean said succinctly. “I don’t know what kind of illusion that was, but it was obviously meant to keep us from finding the real Mellie, and to keep us distracted until it’s too late.”

He pointed to the purple path in front of them and how it disappeared into the wall. “This is a protection bag from Rowena.”

Robert rolled his eyes. “You went to one witch to save you from another? What are the chances that she isn’t helping her?”

Dean shook his head. “No, trust me, we can trust her. On this at least. The bag glows purple in the presence of magic, and when it’s burned it reveals the magic that’s been used. This magic seems to be in the very air around us, and it seems to be leading us there.” He said, pointing.

“Into a wall.” Robert said, deadpan. 

Dean nodded. “I wonder what’s on the other side.”

Robert nodded. “Alright, how do we break through?”

It took them far longer than Dean wanted to find equipment to try to chip away at the stone. His stomach was once again in his throat as he realized the eclipse was approaching fast. 

But once they had pickaxes, they began pounding away at the stone and put a hole in the wall mercifully quickly. Once there was a small opening, the men tore at it with their bare hands, loosening rock and shoving it aside until there was a hole big enough for them to squeeze through. 

When they were on the other side they saw they were standing on a landing at the top of a very long staircase. The stairs went on for so long, and went so deep beneath the castle, that they couldn’t make out the bottom of the steps; it ended in sheer darkness. 

Though it was starting to fade, they still had the purple light in the air to follow, and it led them straight down the stairs. 

It seemed to take forever to reach the bottom, and eventually the purple light disappeared completely, forcing Dean to strike match after match in an attempt to keep them from pitching headfirst down the increasingly damp stairs. 

Finally, they reached the bottom, and followed a very pale light that was burning in the one and only cell. There was no one inside, and Dean wondered why the light still burned inside the cell.

Finally, he decided to burn the other bag, and see where the purple air would take them next. It had them continue down a very long corridor, until they finally reached a small, oval, wooden door. They were in the process of trying to find a way through, when Dean heard Mellie scream in terror and without hesitation, he smashed his body through the door.

***

It all happened so quickly; one moment the Queen was a breath away from murdering her father right in front of her, and the next moment there was a massive crash as the door splintered and Dean came charging through it. 

Instantly Melissande’s eyes were filled with tears. “Dean.” She whispered. 

Before she could do more than blink away the tears however, Dean and another man ran at Layo’ita, swords raised. With a blast of blue light from the center of her palms she threw the men back, spinning them through the air to land in a heap on the floor. 

Dean got to his hands and knees and took cover behind a shelf full of tiny vials of potion. The older man sought cover as well, but didn’t find it quick enough and Layo’ita blasted him again, sending him crashing into the wall this time and knocking him out cold.

The Queen slowly walked towards the shelf Dean was hiding behind, shaking her head. “Now, now, hunter, you failed spectacularly at the mission I sent you on. But if you’re very good, I’ll let you stay alive for the show. As the sun rises, the moon will usurp its place in the sky, and the world will go dark. Then I will make my mark upon this land, and then the next kingdom, and the next and next, until all the world is held in the palm of my hand.”

Dean’s voice was deeply sardonic as he spoke. “Wow, it seems to me, like maybe you need a new pastime. You know, something else to focus on besides the whole, world conquering insanity. Cause, I mean, let’s be honest. Who the hell are you to claim ownership of the entire living world?”

Melissande could hear the rage in the Queen’s voice as she shouted at him. “I am born of the old gods, crafted by them, my destiny set down by them, written into the turning pages of time, before the world began. I am chosen among all the-”

“Got it!” Dean interrupted her. “You’re the very bestest and the gods really, really like you. That’s great, but I suppose that means I’m gonna make those old guys pretty angry when I put my sword through your black heart.”

Melissande could see the way Layo’ita’s face contorted in fury. “How dare you? You know you don’t stand a chance against me, boy! You mock the old gods, but they’re at my back, they guide me and give me power.”

She walked to one side of the shelf, creeping slowly, hiding her approach, but as she swept around to the back, Dean charged out from the other side, swinging his sword in a downward arc, coming within a hair’s breadth of taking off the queen’s head. But she jumped back just in time, and fired a bolt of magical power at him, tossing him aside, into the wall beside her father.

He rose again quickly, but not fast enough. Chains snaked out of the wall to wrap around Dean’s chest and thighs, pinning him in place. When he was completely immobilized, the Queen waved her hand and another set of chains wrapped themselves around Robert where he lay, still unconscious.

She approached Dean, wearing a smug smile. She reached out towards him, and used magic to pry his hand open and let his sword clatter to the ground. 

Dean gave a frustrated growl through clenched teeth as the Queen reached him. She raised her hand up to run it down his cheek, and Dean turned his head, trying to jerk it away from her. But there was nowhere to move to.

Melissande watched his jaw flex tightly as Layo’ita ran her fingers from his cheek, down over his neck, and then across his broad chest.

The Queen sighed slightly. “You know, you certainly are a beautiful man. I might have to keep you. When the world is mine, I might need a pet, someone to keep me…entertained.” She moved her fingertips to his mouth and traced his bottom lip.

Dean turned cold eyes her way. “Yeah, good luck with that, sweetheart. Cause trust me, I bite.” He snapped his teeth at her fingers, and she just barely got them out of the way in time. She laughed, clearly exhilarated. 

She practically purred at him. “Yes, I must find a place for you in my bedroom.”

“Get away from him!” Melissande shouted at her. She felt sick seeing Dean chained up and at the mercy of this fiendish madwoman. She’d brought this on him.

Layo’ita turned laughing eyes her way. “Oh, little princess, does it bother you to see him with someone else? Did you imagine he was in love with you just because he married you.” 

When Melissande’s eyes grew wide, Layo’ita smirked. “Did you think I wasn’t aware of that pathetic attempt at trickery? But you won’t have to worry about that much longer. In fact,” she closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, “soon you won’t have to worry about much of anything."

She looked up at the ceiling. “The sun is rising.”

There were no windows in the chamber, but somehow Melissande knew she was right; it was as if she could feel it on her skin. 

The Queen returned to Melissande’s side, pressing her hand to her forehead as though she was checking Melissande for a fever. But she chanted softly, effectively ignoring the woman beneath her hand as she continued the ritual she’d been planning for nineteen years.

When her chant ended, she seemed to be almost in a trance, and she wandered back towards Dean and Yasa. The King seemed so faint now he could barely hold his head up. Layo’ita bent to pick up the dagger she’d dropped when Dean smashed through the door, and tilted her head to look at Yasa, studying him.

But then she raised the dagger in her hand again, and again Melissande screamed out in terror. “Papa!” As her scream crescendoed, something happened that hadn’t happened the first time. 

One of the crystals on the stone table, the orange one beside her shoulder, cracked into shards and the pieces sailed across the room towards the Queen. The sharp splinters of rock sliced into her cheek and she screamed in pain and surprise. 

She whipped around to see Melissande’s shocked expression as she felt something churning inside her. Something that felt as though it rose up from the bottom of her soul and the very tips of her toes. Without conscious thought, two more crystals splintered and hurled themselves at Layo’ita, making the woman scream at Melissande in frustration.

“What do you think you’re doing you little brat? Who do you think you are?”

Words swam up into Melissande’s mind, Rowena’s words, and she spoke them outloud.

“I am the direct descendant of Queen Caryn'se, Ruler of the Fae and these ancient lands from the time the world began.” She shook her head. “You think the old gods created you to be a force of power and tyranny, but I think you’re wrong.”

With almost no effort, Melissande snapped the iron links that bound her, sitting up and grasping two more crystals in her hands. The Queen shot a bolt of power at her, but it sparked out and died like a fizzled candle before it could touch the Princess.

Melissande felt her body begin to buzz with an inexplicable energy, powerful and potent. But it didn’t scare her, it excited her, and it cradled her, protected her as she stepped down from the table and faced Layo’ita as she continued.

“I believe that when the old gods crafted me, they fashioned my veins and filled them with the blood of the fey, the blood of Caryn’se.” She held up the crystals in her palms. “They gave me the protection of the earth, the protection of Sanso’ye itself. The land of the silver-eyed people belongs to my ancestors, and we will not allow you to make our people suffer any longer!” 

Melissande’s voice was vibrating with power, and she could see the white light that surrounded her, emanating from her entire body. As the Queen tried to bombard her with more and more flashes of dark magic, Melissande looked to where her father and Dean stood chained. Their eyes were wide with disbelief, but then Dean smiled as she caught his eye. It was a warm smile, and it even looked a little proud. 

Melissande sent another crystal flying towards Dean. The gem barely touched his chains, but they quickly fell away. As soon as he was free, he immediately leapt for his sword. 

Layo'ita spun to face him, hand raised to throw more magic at him, and the chains had started reaching out for him again.

But Melissande shook her head. “No.” She said softly and four crystals broke apart and shot through the air to stab into the Queen’s skin, causing her to screech in pain.

Her scream was short-lived, however as Dean got ahold of his sword and swung it true, following through on his promise, and plunging it through her heart. 

The Queen’s face, skull-like and imobile, nevertheless wore a look of unbelievable shock as she fell backwards off of Dean’s sword and landed in a heap on the ground. Blood plumed across her chest, and as her last breath rattled out of her lungs, the Queen reached towards Melissande, as though, even in her last moments of life, she was desperately trying to grasp onto power.

After the Queen's death rattle, silence reigned for a moment, and Melissande could feel the power that had surged through her, begin to ebb, slowly melting away until she was just herself again, just a girl standing on very shaky legs.

Dean dropped his sword and ran to her, grasping her cheeks; his eyes flicked over her face quickly, taking inventory. Then without a word he claimed her lips in a stunning kiss, sweeping his tongue into her mouth and stamping her with it. He swallowed down her surprised cry, turning his head so he could slot his mouth over hers again and again.

They might have stayed like that forever if not for the King softly clearing his throat.

They nearly leapt away from each other as they were interrupted. They looked over to where Yasa stood, still weak and leaning against the wall, but also free from the chains. Melissande’s eyes widened.

“How did you get out of the chains?” 

The king pointed to where Robert was stirring slightly, his chains were also broken and laying on the floor. Yasa shrugged. “The magic died with her, I suppose.”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I hate to pull you apart, but I do believe we should get out of this vile place.”

Dean sprang into action. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty.” He looked at the man’s spindly limbs and bit his lip. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but there are many, many stairs to climb in order to get out of here. Will you allow me to carry you out?”

Yasa nodded. “Thank you Winchester.” As Dean moved to pick him up though, the King put a hand on his arm. “I owe you my life, and my kingdom and I want you to know, it wasn’t truly me who…who ordered your father’s death and your brother’s imprisonment. John and Sam were incredibly decent and loyal men, and I will make immediate moves to see to it your brother is released and your father is pardoned of all false crimes. I’m so sorry that I ever called on them for help.”

Dean’s jaw ticked and he swallowed sharply, but he shook his head. “No, Sir. You have nothing to apologize for. My father died trying to protect his King, as he’d vowed. And now that people will know that, he can rest peacefully and honorably.”

Dean swallowed tightly again. “But I’m very grateful to have my little brother back as soon as possible.”

The King nodded. “It shall be done.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Dean said before he easily picked up the stick thin man.

Melissande felt her heart constrict as she imagined the joy waiting for Dean when Sam was finally freed at last. But she shook her head at her father. “Yes, we’ll do it all, but first, I believe I promised you warm soup and warm blankets.”

***

Two months later:

In the time that followed there was much rejoicing and reuniting; the kingdom learned slowly about all that had happened at the castle, both twelve years ago and at the equinox. Astonishment was high, but as time moved forward, the astonishment turned into great joy. A huge celebration was planned and many, many people were invited. 

All the King’s children had been called back home for a time, the invitation extended to their families as well. Yasa was determined to reconnect with his children, explain what had happened, and meet his grandchildren. He was slowly gaining weight, and color had returned to his skin, so he was more than ready to receive the rest of his family.

Melissande was slightly nervous about seeing her siblings again, or in the case of her eldest brother, seeing him for the very first time. But mostly she was excited, and she was happy that her father had survived to see his children all gathered under one roof.

Queen Hera had been given a place of honor for her eternal resting place. She'd been buried within the King’s Castle graveyard where Yasa could go put flowers on her grave easily while he recuperated. Melissande had caught him talking to her a few times when she came to pay her respects. Her father had been embarrassed at first, but she shook her head.

“No, Papa, don’t be ashamed. I talk to her all the time.” Tears filled her eyes. “I miss her very much, but I think she listens to us and it makes her happy to hear from us.”

Yasa nodded and kissed the crown of his daughter’s head. “You have your mother’s gentle spirit, and kind, loving heart.” He chucked her chin and winked at her. “But I’m gonna take credit for providing you with the fierce, unimaginable power you wield like a sword on behalf of your people.”

Melissande laughed. “I think that part comes along with these.” She said, pointing to her silver eyes and giving a shrug. “So, it probably does come from your side.”

When it came to her powers, she was still a little daunted by them, but with Rowena’s help she was beginning to learn about them, and how to manage them. 

There was some pushback from the church as the Kingdom made moves towards embracing the old gods and magic once again. But the King told them simply that this had always been a realm of magic, and when you repressed it, or left only a few to practice it, you ended up with power-hungry rivals for the throne and no one to check them.

There was a lot of grumbling at first, but those on different sides of the issue were starting to come together and at least work towards peace and harmony.

One of the happiest moments for Melissande in the months after escaping from the Queen’s wrath, had been when the prisoners were freed from the mines. It wasn’t only Sam that had been wrongly imprisoned. There were many that Layo’ita had sent to the mines simply for questioning her or for stating their opinion.

When they’d returned, seeing families reunited had brought on many happy tears. Watching Dean and Sam crush each other as they embraced for the first time in over a decade, had made her sob noisily into her handkerchief.

While the kingdom was being set to rights and the Warriors were returned to their former place of honor within the kingdom (some of the guardsmen who’d defended the castle so stoutly were taking the vow as Winchesters), it was easy to stay busy and distracted.

But as the celebration approached, and preparations fell into the capable hands of their craftsmen and artisans, Melissande found herself with a lot of time on her hands, and she began to contemplate what the future was going to look like for her and Dean.

She knew he’d only married her to keep her safe. So, now that she was, what would he do? He’d been reinstated as a First Line Warrior and had returned to his duties at the Winchester Keep. He was at the castle fairly frequently, helping the King set his defenses in order and shore up security around the kingdom since it had been allowed to become incredibly lax under a Queen who didn’t care about the people.

So, Melissande saw him fairly regularly, but they never spoke about their situation. It was always just polite conversation in which he addressed her formally as “Your Highness” or “Princess Melissande”. He never called her Mellie anymore and she missed the sound of it on his lips.

She also missed his lips, and his hands, and so many other parts of him. She missed the way she always felt so safe with him nearby, missed the way he teased her, or purposely tried to bait her. She just missed him, and she was starting to think that now that his duty was done, he was no longer interested in anything to do with her. 

But she thought about him all the time. She thought a lot about the wedding night that they never really had; she dreamed about it too.

Then one day a messenger arrived with a package for her. She saw that it came from Dean and she ripped it open excitedly. But when she saw what was inside her heart stopped beating and then plummeted to her stomach.

Inside were papers that had already been drawn up by the church and signed by Dean, papers that officially annulled their marriage, and set them free of one another. Dean had included a note at the bottom that said simply:

Have your father sign these as well, and it will be official, and you’ll be rid of me at last.

Melissande heard the teasing in the written words, could easily imagine the way his green eyes would sparkle, and the way they would crinkle at the corners as he smiled.

Her heart was broken and she ran to talk to the one person she knew would listen and not judge her for loving a man who didn’t want her. She knelt at her mother’s grave, rearranging the old flowers around her new ones.

“I don’t know what to do, Mama. I just love him. He’s so brave and strong and true. I know that sounds like the words of a lovesick fool, and I suppose I am. But they’re also the truth. He’s so honorable and chivalrous and…oh, Mama he’s so handsome. I think about him all the time, about…well about him kissing me or…well I just think about him. His voice and his laugh and…”

Her tears streaked her cheeks. “But he’s dissolving the contract between us, making it as though it never was.”

She wiped her cheeks and sniffled. “I suppose it’s fair. He only married me to keep me safe and to do the noble thing. Now that I’m safe, the kind thing to do would be to let him out of his obligation.”

She took a shuddery breath. “Yes, it’s the honorable thing to do.”

***

Dean walked into the King’s private antechamber, expecting to be discussing training for the new Warriors, and how the Keeps would be updated to accommodate the new men and women. But as he entered, the King waved at a seat beside him, bidding him to sit down. 

It was highly unusual. Generally he met with the King and a few members of his new Council. So being here alone was already strange, but also, Warriors stood during meetings, and they were certainly never invited by the King to sit beside him.

But not wishing to disobey his King, he perched on the edge of the seat and nodded at the sovereign awkwardly. “So, would you like me to list the supplies we’ll need to improve and expand the Keeps?”

But Yasa was shaking his head. “No, no. This isn’t a formal visit. I had some questions to ask you.”

Dean felt his heart beat a little faster. “Alright, Your Majesty. I’d be happy to try and answer them.”

The King was quiet for a moment before he turned inquisitive eyes on Dean. “Why did you marry my daughter?” 

Dean felt his stomach twist into a knot. Why the hell was the King talking to him about this? He and Mellie had already explained how and why the wedding had taken place, and Yasa had seemed fine with it at the time, maybe even a little grateful for Dean’s help.

So, what had changed; why did he want to discuss this now? Was this because of the annulment papers? Were there things he needed clarified?

Dean cleared his throat. “Well, as we told you, Your Grace, at the time, not knowing the full plans of the First Queen, it seemed like…”

Dean trailed off as the King waved at him. “No, no. I know the official reason, I know you meant to keep her safe, and I’m very grateful for that. But I suppose I meant to ask, was that the only reason? Or…is there a way you could see yourself staying married to her now that she’s safe?”

“I’m afraid…” Dean cleared his throat again. “Sire, I’m afraid I don’t…I mean, I’m not sure what you’re asking. I…of course I never dreamed of keeping her shackled to a mere Warrior. She no longer requires the protection of my name or my sword, so as any good subject would do, I’m removing the obligation of our vows.”

Yasa nodded. “I see…so…you don’t love her?”

Dean’s heart began to beat triple time. “I’m…Your Grace…I don’t…my feelings don’t matter one way or another. I’m a Warrior, Melissande is a Princess, I have no right to feel any way towards her. I’m all too aware that I am not worthy of her hand.”

“Hmm…” The King stroked his chin and then reached over to pull some papers off the table beside him. Dean recognized the annulment papers, but on top of them was a letter in neat, slanting handwriting. The King held it up. 

“This is a letter from Hera that she sent to me on Melissande’s eighteenth birthday. Of course, having been trapped in a dungeon, I only just got around to reading it. The letter talks about what an amazing woman Melissande has become, but then she goes on to talk about you.”

Dean frowned. “Me?”

Yasa smiled. “Yes, lad, you. She explains how you saved Melissande when she was just a little girl.” A shadow passed over his features. “Somehow that information never made it to me either, and I wasn’t in a dungeon then.” He sighed. “I have a lot to make amends for.”

He shook his head and continued. “In the letter, Hera says that when you saved her, she offered you Melissande’s hand when she came of age, but you said then too, that you were not worthy. But,” he lifted the letter, “she thought you were. In fact, she knew you were. And I would have to agree.”

Dean shook his head. “Your Majesty -”

Yasa cut him off. “You’ve now saved my daughter’s life twice. You saved me, and the kingdom.”

Dean scrubbed the back of his neck with his hand and stared at the floor. “With an awful lot of help from your daughter.”

The King smiled. “Yes, she was remarkable. But you fought to get to us and you stabbed that wicked witch through the heart so she could never again threaten our kingdom.” His voice became more impassioned. “Your father gave his life, and your brother gave his freedom in defense of our kingdom. Now, if that doesn’t label you as worthy, I don’t know what would.”

At a complete loss for words, Dean could only fidget on the chair and look anywhere but at his King.

Yasa’s voice was soft as he continued. “But worthy or not, I won’t let you be with her if you don't love her. She deserves all the tenderness that was denied to her and her mother because of Layo’ita…and me.”

Dean felt his mind cloud with visions of Mellie, the visions he fought against day and night - her laughter and its musicality, but also the way her eyes sparked when she was mad; her bravery and her vulnerability; the way she clung to him sometimes, and the way she bossed him around. He thought about the very real possibility the King was presenting to him - a life with Mellie at his side, maybe children in the future and a life lived with purpose and meaning.

He hardly believed it could be real. But he took a chance and spoke quietly, his voice slightly hoarse. “Yes, I love her. I love her very much.”

Dean actually jumped in his seat as the door burst open and Mellie thundered in. Her cheeks were flushed, and tears sparkled in her beautiful quicksilver eyes; her skin glowed slightly as the magic of her soul lit up her body.

“Really Winchester?” She said, swallowing harshly and trying to hide her beaming smile. “You told my father before you told me?”

Dean felt the King stand and walk towards the door, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of Mellie to look. The King paused at her side and kissed the top of her head.

“Go easy on him, poppet. He really loves you.” He gave a soft smile and left, thrilled with this development and off to tell Hera all about it.

As he left the room, Mellie walked up to where Dean still sat in the chair. “So?” She said, tapping her foot against the wooden floors.

Dean felt his chest expand as it began to dawn on him that he really was married to this spitfire princess with her shifting silver eyes, and miracle of miracles, she seemed to love him back, which meant he got to stay married to her.

He smiled widely and his eyes were teasing as he reached up to grab her hand and yank her down onto his lap. She let out a small squeal as he spoke.

“And if I did speak to your father before you, wife? What of it? I am your husband after all, so you have to obey me.”

She elbowed him in the ribs and he exhaled sharply. “Oof.” 

Mellie’s eyes glowed bright silver and Dean let his heart fill with awe as she spoke. 

“Not likely, my Winchester Warrior. I am the Princess Melissande, pride of my mother Queen Hera, descendant of the fairy Queen Caryn’se, daughter of the Fae, and the honored child of King Yasa of Sanso’ye.” She flicked her hair back over her shoulder. “I obey no one.”

Dean’s smile was soft as he brushed his lips softly against hers and cupped her cheek in his palm before conceding happily and running his thumb along her cheekbone. “Alright, my Mellie, I suppose the obedience part is negotiable.”

He kissed her as she laughed, and reveled in the sound, and in the way her body felt, pressed close to him.

He caught her chin with his thumb and forefinger and stared into her eyes. “Marry me, princess?”

She chuckled. “That part’s already done.” She gave him an impish grin. “But I’ll wed you all over again, happily, if you promise that this time, we get a wedding night.”

Dean’s eyes flared with heat and he kissed her long and deep, living for the sighs and whimpers that bubbled up from inside her. He pulled back when he was dizzy for air, and he was panting as he spoke.

“You know, sweetheart, technically we are already married, and I bet Rowena would let us stay a night in that big, beautiful bedroom of hers. If I offer her a big enough trade she might even take herself and Bernard away for the night.”

Mellie’s smile was blinding. “Send a messenger.”

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @libby99hb @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2 @fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe

[king-midas-fortnite]

Hello. I assume there is little need for introduction, but I am Midas. I've recently returned from a brief..."sabbatical", shall we call it, in the Underworld.

My daughter, Jules thought it would be a good idea to keep a blog. Not sure why. Something about venting feelings, connecting with other people not in my crew, etc. Not exactly things I find very high priority, but I suppose it can't kill me. I'd know better than anyone what can, after all. And perhaps it'll make keeping tabs on people of interest easier...

Feel free to reach out, if you wish. Message me, tag me, whatever the case may be. I'll do my best to be active here. Whatever it takes to make my daughter happy. However, I am a busy man. Apologies if I miss anything.

((Keep reading for rules and notes!))

--------------------------------------------------

Rules and guidelines for interacting!

1. This blog is run by an adult. I am 26, my main is @snippydippy. Please keep this in mind when interacting with me. I ask that minors please consider a different Midas.

I will use (()) to indicate when I'm speaking out of character in any posts!

2. I don't mind NSFW content myself, but may not answer questions or reblog content pertaining to sexually explicit topics to keep things relatively appropriate.

3. This blog may contain ship content, it may not. I have ships I like, they may not be the ones you do. While my version of Midas is cis, he's not straight (bi king). If this bothers you, I don't know what to tell you.

4. My DMs and asks will always be open! Please don't be shy, Midas won't bite. I'm down to RP in the reblogs with anyone! However, DM roleplays for other adults only, please.

5. This blog will always be skewed towards a more serious vibe. I take my characterization of Midas very seriously (more so than I probably should for a FN character lol). You won't find much in the way of him being a silly guy. Even if I find it funny, if I don't think a situation would be in character for my version of him, it won't happen.

That's it as far as my rules go aside from the obvious "don't be a dick" sentiments that I feel I shouldn't have to say. Thank you for reading them! Next are just a couple notes on my headcanons for Midas.

-Midas has some control over his Golden Touch. I think of the curse in a way that is similar to chronic pains. Some days, it is manageable, and he can touch whatever he'd like without issue. Some days, it is bad. He has to avoid people, can't eat, and struggles getting through mundane tasks without frustration.

I believe his curse may also be in part tied to his emotions. Any intense anger, sadness, or other strong feelings will make it harder to control the Touch, and it does cause him some amount of pain when it's out of control. (Doing mental gymnastics to explain why Fortnite itself isn't consistent with his power.)

-Jules means everything to Midas. He will do absolutely anything in his power to keep his daughter safe and to keep his relationship with her in good standing. He's wronged her in the past, and is doing all he can to make up for those actions and lost time.

-His time in the underworld changed him a bit. He's less cold to the people close to him. He allows more feeling than pure calculation into his thought processes, but a stranger may not be able to tell. Midas is a relatively closed off man. He does not wear his emotions on his sleeve, and doesn't often make friends without some kind of benefit to be had from the relationship. Be it power or connections. However, the friendships he does have mean a great deal to him. He is quick to provide aid in any way he can to those he cares about.

Another thing about his imprisonment in Hell: Time in the underworld was experienced differently. While we may have waited four years for Midas to return, for him it was much, much longer. Now that he is back, he is determined to never be put in chains ever again.

-My version of him obviously has not left the island after returning from the underworld, instead opting to stay as his curiosity for how things have changed has gotten the better of him. He wants to keep up with the power struggles, and find a way to insert himself back into them.

This blog is semi-independent! Some lore is shared with @perseus-ihatemydad-fortnite in that he helped Midas escape from the Underworld. As well as most often being seen interacting with @kado-fortnite and @valeria-fortnite

Tags I'll use!

#Midas Answers -For asks answered in character

#Midas Posts -For interactions in character

#Gold Reserves -In-character reblogs of art, aesthetic posts, etc.

#Gold Encounter -For interactions between other characters that are meant to be read as happening in-person/privately

#Journal Entries - For uh. For Journal Entries lol. These are, in a meta sense, private to him. They are for interactions that happen on the Discord server rather than Tumblr for reader convenience.

- 👑 for anon messages

#Shut your trap snippy -For posts like these that include me talking OOC (I know, long tag. It's just what I've been using on my main blog for years to tag my own garbage lol)

Screenshot in this post and my header are from @corvidazed 💛

Thank you for getting all the way down here! I hope our interactions are fun!

[cannoliramblings]

Intro!

Hi everyone! I'm Cannoli, I'm 22 years old and use he/him pronouns. I'm extremely new to tumblr and not 100% sure how everything works yet, but yeah lol, mostly I'm just here to ramble about my ocs lol.

Mostly I'll probably be posting on here about my Fallen London OCs, I honestly just started playing the game a couple of weeks ago and I've been really liking it so far, to the point where I absolutely have way too many OCs already lmao.

All of my OCs are open for asks and roleplay, shipping is a bit more iffy and is on a case-by case basis, but there might be some nsfw posted so beware (my brain has too many ideas haha)

Feel free to send asks (I can answer questions as can my ocs) or DM, I might eventually post full profiles at some point but yeah here's my main 4 OCs right now (I have a bunch more minor ones too)

My main OCs are: Locryn/The Diffident Professor (they/them): a very innocent mycologist + hopeful revolutionary who will probably wind up seeking and is in an interesting relationship with May. Profile. Tag = #Diffident Professor

Astrid/The Reluctant Thief (she/her): A thief under The Cheery Man who wants to get out of crime, also enjoys the idea of revolution, but she struggles sometimes to not be so independent and to ask others for help. Profile. Tag = #Reluctant Thief

Juno / The Austere Devil (ve/ver): A constable/devil who's recovering from a prisoner's honey addiction, serious and severe but still reasonably nice and caring. Profile. Tag = #Austere Devil

Rhys/The Misanthropic Constable (he/him): A former zailor who struggles with dysphoria and not very stable mental health and pours himself into his constabular work. He's only nice to you if he trusts you. Tag = #Misanthropic Constable

All of my OCS are open for RP.

I'll probably mostly be posting my writing and various oc rambles here (and maybe some art but that's definitely not my strong suit lol) (eventually probably my written work will be on Ao3 (account name: Cannolithestoryteller)

[hatsunemimikyu]

Tales of Vesperia: Definitive Edition First Impressions

Started playing yesterday after having it sit on my Steam library for years and thought it would be fun to note down my first impressions of the game!

Tales Experience

For note, this is not my first game in the series. I've played a significant part/finished Symphonia, Abyss, Zestiria and Berseria, and also played a bit of Phantasia and Arise. My favourites are Abyss and Berseria!

The Plot

I've gone up to Shaikos Ruins by now, so I haven't seen muuch of the plot, but knowing Tales I can predict some conspiration of those in power that relates to the ancient technology lol

I don't mind most Tales games sticking to a tried and true formula as I think the best part of those stories is how they tie to the development of the characters. And talking about characters...

The Characters

I already like Yuri a lot tbh. I love how he's simultaneously too tired for this shit but also cares too deeply to not help others in need. Combat-wise he's your sword main character(tm) which I always appreciate since I'm not that good at combat to play with the more intensive chars lol. Cool dude 10/10.

Omg Estelle is another one I'm loving?? She's kind and sheltered but she's also funny and a book lover. I love her dynamic with Yuri, sheltered noble x world weary (ex-)military makes me think of Luke x Tear who I have always liked a lot. I also love her dress, it looks like a flower!

Extra notes on her and Yuri's relationship, I'm curious to see how Flynn will play into it but I'm already envisioning the "this is my boyfriend Yuri and this is my boyfriend's boyfriend Flynn" thing lol

Also she and Yuri already had the "would you still love me if I was a worm snake or frog?" conversation and I love that for them tbh

https://youtu.be/RIlLpX4fmVY?si=4kR0_lmSoKr9YEpS

Mechanically she's a healer so... sorry girl, probably not going to play as you so much :'D and please stop using sharpness on yourself!!! Still 10/10

Doggo/10, what's more to say?

Ok but Repede is really cool! The only part of his design I'm not a big fan of is the electric blue fur on his head. I'm pretty curious on what's his story with his previous owner and how he came to hang with Yuri (I'm pretty sure the pipe is a memento?)

Mechanically he's the faster but frailer guy which is... ok I guess lol

He's scared as fuck and he has a big ass tote so he's very relatable lol I'm pretty sure him knowing to lockpick will be significant somehow, maybe a hint of his past? 8/10 let's see what he has in store

Mechanically he's the big swing guy which I always enjoy playing as even tho I'm bad at it

Smartass ass lil lady/10. This is a "type" of character I always like in Tales so happy to see her there lol. Still have to finish the ruins to see how will she decide to tag along the party. Mechanically she's the offensive caster, found her nice to play at but I don't like to stay still for long so I don't play caster very much.

Now that I'm done with the characters for now, let's get to...

The Gameplay

This is one of the Tales with the lanes + free movement duo. I'm playing on normal bc I'm a scrub, but I still feel that blocking at the right time/free moving to reposition is pretty important as some enemies can hit quite hard. Usually it gets easier with time bc you get more characters/spells, but for now I'm feeling the difficulty is in a nice place. Skills being learnable from weapons adds some more levels of choice (do I equip every new stronger piece of equipment or do I wait to learn skill X?) which is interesting. I'm glad I'm playing on my Deck as I don't have to worry about save points since I can just put it to sleep.

Now for the last part...

The Visuals

As I've stated before, I'm playing this on a Steam Deck, so I can't comment on how this would look on a giant screen, but for the Deck at least, it looks pretty good! The art direction is pretty strong and all the environments I saw up to now have been distinctive and very nicely crafted. The characters also look pretty good, and the overrall effect is like you're playing an interactive anime. Really shows how a good art direction makes a game look good no matter how old it is.

Anyways having an overrall nice experience with this one! I'm curious to get more characters and see how they develop. Idk if I'll write any more of this but it has been fun to ramble about lol. If you read this all thanks for reading lol have you played this game?

[lazyalani]

| Blue Lock Men × Reader

| flufffff, this is the part 2, i enjoyed bachira's a little too much lol

| Blue Lock men as songs

| Blue Lock Masterlist

| Main Masterlist

•Part 1 (Itoshi Sae, Itoshi Rin, Mikage Reo)

MICHAEL

"And All I Wanna Do Is To Fall In Deep."

"Oh Baby Look What You Started."

"Been Waiting And Waiting For You To Make A Move."

"A Little Bit Dangerous.

But Baby That's How I Want It."

"'Cause I'm So Into You, Into You, Into You."

"Got Everyone Watching Us."

"A Little Bit Scandalous."

It's really no secret that Michael Kaiser is a charming man. It's not that he openly seduces people or anything, it's just that he has this natural aura around him that lures you in. Oh he knows he's fuckin' handsome.

Michael first laid his eyes on you at a Football stadium, you were wearing a jersey jacket with his jersey number and surname, he saw it as you turned around to listen to who he assumed is a friend of yours, leaning in closely due to the loud cheers.

And boy, how he was so allured with how you stared back at him and smiled, looking at him with those eyes that tell him how exactly handsome he was. Something about you lured him back.

Kaiser was not one who was interested in the people who adore him. He doesn't really care to check who follows him, or who likes his posts, but as soon as he posted a picture, the first one who liked it definitely caught his eye. The girl on the profile picture was the same girl who had caught his eye during the game.

Kaiser didn't really bother with keeping your relationship a secret, but nor did he confirm it. His fans and the media just found out throught his random postings and stories. He likes to randomly just post a picture of you two and tag you or tweet matching lines with you.

Another thing is that Kaiser is a hard man to please and interest, so when he gets interested, he's never letting go. Oh, and what do you know, he's taking you with him to another country. He definitely does not like being away from his significant other. If he has to go to another country to play, he's taking you with him. It's urgent and sudden? No problem, he'll have an alternative way and plan for your other plans or activities so just go with him. You haven't packed yet? Don't worry, everything you need can be bought, he's filthy rich. You're worrying about getting bored when he's at practice or somewhere? Nah, you'll have his card, go shopping or something.

Being Michael Kaiser's significant other was a lot of things, but boring will never be part of it. He never forgets to show that he cares. Morning? Oh he memorizes the time you're probably awake based on the time you went to sleep and calls you to say "Goodmorning, darlin'." and "Don't forget to eat breakfast.", taking a break if ever he's in a morning practice. Afternoon? He calls you again and asks if you've eaten lunch and probably talks about new recruits being dumb shits or something. Evening? He comes home to you, craving your hugs, cuddling with you before bed, with you laying on top of him while he sits up, wearing his glasses and reading a book.

He loves it when you stare at him when he's wearing his glasses. He purposely wears them more often just to see how you stare at him. He also probably reads to you on your bad days, saying how he'll definitely make you feel better so just listen to his voice and stare at his face, he never forgets his glasses.

"Love you to my victories and back."

HYOMA

"Faster Than The Wind,

Passionate As Sin,

Ended So Suddenly."

"Like The Colors In Autumn So Bright Just Before They Lose It All."

"Losing Him Was Blue."

"Missing Him Was Dark Grey."

"Forgetting Him Was Like Trying To Know Somebody You've Never Met."

"Loving Him Was Red."

"Regretting Him Was Like Wishing You Never Found Out That Love Could Be That Strong."

"Burning Red."

"Darlin' It Was Red"

Loving Chigiri Hyoma is heartwrenching.

ended so suddenly

The first time he broke your heart was when he fell down during THAT game. As the burning pain dawned at him, his eyes locked with you and he instantly knew you were both thinking the same thing. The sound of people gasping and the footsteos of his teammates towards him were tuned out as the only thing he was aware of was the pain on his knee and the horrified expression on your face. You were heartbroken for him.

losing him was blue

The second time he broke your heart was when he (unsurely) finally ended things with you. He tell you the truth, that he couldn't bear to see you hurt because of him. He couldn't bear to see you break because he does and says things he didn't mean. He breaks it off because he knows he's trying, but it's not enough. He breaks it off because the constant pain he burdens, physically and emotionally, holds him back from loving you to the fullest again. He breaks it off because he does not want to see you cry for and because of him. He breaks it off because he knows he will just break you. He breaks it off so he doesn't infect you with his toxic wind. He breaks it off because he thinks he won't ever be good enough for you again. He breaks it off because he's insecure.

He breaks your heart because he loves you.

missing him was dark gray

Chigiri Hyoma is confused. Unsure. Angry. Sad. Traumatized. Insecure.

loving him is red

He sees you again at the bleachers with his mother and sister, and his heart that has always been beating for you, beats louder. His heart beats when you smile at him all teary, sincere, and no grudge. His heart beats when you curtsied towards him just like how you did before. His heart beats when you mouthed him a goodluck. His heart beats when he nervously apologizes and explains to you. His heart beats when you say everything's fine now and you forgive him. His heart beats when he asks for both of you to start over again. His heart beats when you said yes. His heart beats when he talks about you to his friends. His heart beats whenever he sees your name on his phone. His heart beats louder whenever he sees you. His heart almost leaps out of his chest when you say you love him.

Hyoma is like a flaming red fire, dangerous, hot, fast, warm.

burning red

Your heart beats when you see the color red.

darlin' it was red

Chigiri Hyoma is wise. Sure. Calm. Happy. Healing. Assured.

MEGURU

"It's Blue, The Feeling I've Got

And It's Ooh, Whoa, Oh"

"It's Cool, That's What I Tell 'Em"

"No Rules In Breakable Heaven"

"It's A Cruel Summer

With You"

"Said 'I'm Fine' But It Wasn't True"

"And I Snucked In Through The Garden Gate"

"And I Screamed For Whatever It's Worth"

"'I Love You' Ain't That The Worst Thing You've Ever Heard?"

"He Looks Up Grinning Like A Devil"

"It's New"

Loving Bachira Meguru was young, free, peaceful, and warm.

Meguru was a lonely kid, thus, he learned how to have fun by himself (and his monster). It's not like he didn't feel lonely or didn't care that he didn't have any friends, it's just that he didn't care enough to let it get to him. He wanted a friend he can share his fun with. Someone that could keep up with his enthusiasm with things.

He likes to spend his summer playing soccer in large, greeny, spaces.

You just so happen to be there, staring at the peaceful skies, listening to whatever was playing in your earphones, and laying on the grass. He is confused, whether you're sleeping or resting your eyes, but he wants to play so either way he still goes up to you and asks you to move so he doesn't hit you when he plays.

It's New. He thinks as he feels you watch as he plays. It's New. You don't stare at him like he's a weirdo.

It's New. You think as you watched him play with genuine happiness. It's New. You see someone who's so free. Not tainted by the darkness of being caged by the world.

"Wanna play with me?" He tests.

"I don't know how."

"I can be a great coach!"

You were decent, courtesy of Meguru. You weren't what he really wanted but he finds himself really enjoying playing with you. All because no matter how much you couldn't keep up with him, you didn't leave. You rest, but you don't leave, and that's enough for him to stick around too.

He decides he wants to get to know you.

The two of you meet up again the next day, same time, same place, same game, same talking, and same actions. The same routine goes on and on and he finds himself invested to you.

Until summer ended.

He came back to the same place at the same time, but you weren't there. He waited and he played. He took a nap and waited. It was night, you never showed up. He wasn't one to be a pessimist, so he thinks something just came up. And so he went back the next day, same time, same place. He waited an extra hour into the night, but you still didn't show up. Meguru tells himself if you don't show up the next three days, he'll stop hoping.

And you never showed up.

He was dissapointed, a bit sad too. He had thought he could finally make a long time friend. He didn't understand why you didn't show up anymore. Both of you have never even fought before. Little bickerings over food, yes, but no fightings or arguements. He thinks you weren't pretending too, he's pretty sure both of you genuinely enjoyed each others company, so he didn't really think much of it, nor did he harbor any ill feelings. He's just upset you didn't tell him anything.

He keeps playing the same place at the same time, but this time not expecting anyone anymore. He goes back to the routine of playing with just his monster. He admits, he does miss your presence. He's still upset that you left, you were his first almost long term friend, afterall. He finds himself thinking back to that summer when you were there, and felling happy but sad at the same time. It was a new feeling, he never got this sad before. Whenever he thinks back, it does come up to his mind that maybe he might've done something wrong and he just never noticed. Or maybe you noticed how he glances to random directions and smile at his monster and got weirded out too. He smiles bitterly when he realizes he got attached to you at such a short time, and that's why he's feeling so blue.

Oh, what a Cruel Summer to think back to indeed.

And then summer came again.

He comes up the field, expecting the same warm wind and empty but peaceful scenery when he notices someone sitting on the grass. He stops on his tracks when he recognizes the same back, same clothes, and same hair of his old friend.

"You're back."

You turn around to greet him, letting out a sheepish and apologetic smile. "I am."

"Sorry? Or back?"

"Erm.. Both, Chi-kun, I can explain, I promise!"

He makes this upset, pouty face and sighs. "You sound like a caught cheating girlfriend and eventhough I should be more upset, fine. Only because I'm being nice." Nah, he just definitely misses you, but he wants to keep teasing you for the time being, could be a punishment for leaving without an explanation.

You explain to him that your parents don't allow you to go out during school times. How they're very strict and how you feel very caged. And he tells you how you got him really upset and that you're his first friend. It makes him feel a lot better when you tell him he's your first friend too. The same routine with you comes running back like a ball being passed.

Meguru finds himself letting you in more and more.

And you do too.

He gets a little nervous when he tells you about his monster the first time, and was really happy when you laugh it off and says who are you to judge someone who enjoys doing the things they really want. He tells you about how he got so used to being left alone that he doesn't mind it anymore and tickles you as revenge when you tease him about getting sad when you left. He smiles impossibly wider when you tell him you felt caged because of how controlling your parents are and feel free around him. He feels the same feeling when he sees the same smile on your face. He laughs it off when you tell him sorry in advance when summer ends and tells you he'll take care of it.

He giggles at your dumbfounded face when you see him at your garden, he threw a little rock on your window to get your attention. You frantically ask him how the hell he got in and he giggles a little louder, making you shush his mouth.

"I snuck in through the garden gate!"

You feel your blood pressure rising but you couldn't stop the smile and laugh from getting out.

The same routine, same places, same times, same actions, and same smiles continous to go on. Though with the constant interruptions, you both learned how to adapt your routine to the new events.

Not even blue lock could break the same routine you've both had for years.

You learned he got bolder after the U-20 vs. Blue Lock match.

"Ah, I missed you so much. I guess I really do love you!" He grins.

Looks like both of you are going to have changes in your routines again.

[undertale-writing-times]

Hey! I saw your sans x pregnant reader post and I really loved it!!

I'm not sure if your requests are open or not but if they are,

What would some of the different Sans (es ) Do with a pregnant reader?

(like just enough to show the baby bump to not be mistaken as just gaining weight but like actually sticking out?)

Clarifications are Preg!Reader fell down the hope pregnant, and let's say for one reason or another, they get into a fight and get some scratches, but then an attack comes and is about to peirece the stomach but the sans (es) stops it, cuz they can sense a second soul in them?

I was hoping maybe the classic 3? (UTsans, UF sans and US sans)

Also sorry if this is all over the place, I have PDD which makes it harder for me to explain my ideas.

((Also if you DO decide to do this, will you tag me? The system hasn't been notifying me when requests or basically any motifs unless I'm mention/tagged, thank you!)

Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc!

I figured you meant that the skellies weren't the dads, but if you meant something else, just tell me! Sorry ^^' and sorry for the very long wait.

I, uh, had some problems and way too many lol.

Anyway! Made them longer to make up for it.

cricketsjunk

@cricketsjunk

Sans: Look, normally Sans wouldn't do something to help a human. The only reason he helped Frisk out so much was because Toriel asked him to, and they still haven't even gotten them out! Haven't killed anyone either, so Sans was a bit confused. But this was new. A new human fell down, and she was a girl. She was older and so powerful, and the other monsters attacked her, but guess what? She didn't fight back! Like... at all! It was confusing to him, to be honest. She was so strong compared to them, so why wasn't she fighting back? Sans started to follow sneakily, wanting to see what she would do. She got hurt and had some nasty scratches; however, she hadn't tried to hurt or kill any monsters yet, which is nice. But then he noticed something during one of the fights that he hadn't noticed before. A smaller soul, a much smaller one, and still weak. She was pregnant, and... crap! He saw an attack coming for her stomach and before he could stop himself, he teleported in, grabbed her, and disappeared before the other monster could see him. He looks over his shoulder, then down and makes a small oh sound when he sees her staring at him. "Uh... ey, got a stare problem, buddy?" Heh, okay, this was... this was something.

Red: Of course he noticed the girl falling after Rosa! That hadn't happened before, so it caught his attention! Of course his main attention was Rosa, but he couldn't help checking up on the fallen human girl every so often. He noticed during those times that she, just like Rosa, wasn't hurting anyone or fighting back against any of the monsters. Ugh, damn it, he was hoping at least one of them would be bad... eh, whatever. Sometimes he liked poking fun at her for getting hurt, saying that it would be so much easier if she tried to kill them, but she never did. During one of the times he was watching her, he noticed something. Another small souling in her stomach, and he didn't think that she had eaten another human. Crap... He could ignore it. He SHOULD ignore it! Yeah, he didn't. He sent out a bone attack to distract the other monster and ran by, grabbing her hand and dragging her away fast. "Come on, get your stupid legs movin'!" Man, if he got caught, he would be dusted so fast. Majesty wouldn't care that she had a baby... why did he care? Maybe he could ask the lady at the door for some help. Probably could trick his brother into helping him out too.

Blueberry: When he first met the human that fell down, he got so excited! He knew the first one, then another fell? And this time it was a grown one. How exciting! Two humans at almost the same time. Stretch didn't seem as excited, but he didn't care. He greeted the human and helped her out with any of her wounds, then told her that he was going to have to take her to Lady later on. They got separated a few times, and one of the times they met back up, he noticed that she was getting attacked by another monster! He thought about helping, but figured that that would be bad to do! They were training, weren't they? Or... he sighs, shaking his head at the idea. Then he noticed something. During the fight, he saw another souling in her stomach! His eyesockets widened, and he ran forward, holding up his hand, "Stop the fight!" He lowered his hand to make a bone, which knocked her out of the way since the attack was aiming straight for her stomach. "You know the rules. No attacking a souling or anyone carrying one. If Lady found out, you would be charged!" he scolded the other monster, who seemed shocked. As did the human, who sneaked away while he was ranting.

[writernopal]

✍Writer Interview✍

Thanks to @teamdilf for tagging me here!

When did you start writing?

Technically, when I was like 15/16. I was writing a little bit back then but I don't remember what I was writing, which sucks. I really wish I remembered! After that I picked writing back up in summer of 2019.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

Yep! I think its kind of limiting to only read the genre you write. There's always stuff you can take from other places and work it into your writing. It can produce some surprising results! That said, my favorites to read are non-fiction and classic works of fiction.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

No and no. There are plenty of authors I admire but I've got a voice of my own and I don't particularly think we need two of anybody.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

So I have two main things I use to write: a desktop computer and a laptop. My desktop is on a desk (surprise, surprise lol) in the corner of a room with two little windows above it. I recently upgraded the setup to have one ultrawide monitor instead of two smaller side-by-side ones to help me focus when I write because I noticed when I was writing on my laptop I'd get more done because I only had one screen. I also have a mechanical keyboard with blank keys for cool points lol. On the wall beside my desk are a bunch of posters and things, some for inspiration, others just because I like them. Of course I've got some pirate/ship themed art there too! With my laptop I kind of take that anywhere, so with that I write on the couch, the dining room, cafes, libraries etc but never in my bed because then I won't sleep. I've been trying to have better sleep hygiene and phone habits in general which is only worth mentioning here because I used to write on my phone but I don't anymore.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Music, but like really listening to it. As in, closing my eyes, not doing anything, and being present as its playing. I'm very in tune with how my body experiences feelings/emotions so doing that will usually make me feel something and from there its just letting my mind wander.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Forbidden/taboo things. It can be anything from interpersonal relationships, oppressive systems, internalized responses to stimuli, etc. Also drawing connections between the world and our environment and the stages of our lives or even things that happening. To me, those things are all connected. And no, they don't surprise me one bit.

What is your reason for writing?

To make sense of the world around me. And to live lives I won't have time for in my short one.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Anytime someone notices a theme or callback in my work. Which I think has maybe happened once so I do my best not to rely on engagement to motivate me otherwise I think I'd go insane.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Oh ideally I don't want my readers thinking about me at all lol. I want them thinking about the story and what it makes them feel.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Prose. Especially of the visceral or imagery-heavy variety.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I think its quite strong but I think I've reached the limit of what I can do on my own. I really want to start honing my craft and improving it so I'll probably be taking some courses and/or joining a writing critique group soon.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

I guess I'll say mostly for me. There is 'an audience' in my head but whether those are people who would actually read my stuff or someone I made up, I can't say lol. Also I have to have fun writing something otherwise I won't want to do it so its hard to say I'd want to write for someone else unless they had requested something specific from me.

Tagging (gently): @tabswrites @void-botanist @paintedbutton @sarahlizziewrites @oh-no-another-idea @kanobarlowe and anyone else who wants to play!

[m-jelly]

I love your fanfics about strong female leads, and I was thinking if that could be involved in any element. Also maybe a sprinkle of demi-sexual Levi because I’m pretty sure that man is sex-repulsed if it isn’t with someone he loves. The main story idea I think would be cool is “Pet Rescue Owner” x “kinda gangster Yandere Levi.” The reader could be like a badass disney princess lol

I've always seen Levi this way. He won't have sex with someone unless he loves them.

@kenkopanda-art <3

I want you. I need you

Pairing: Levi x Fem! Reader

Tags and warnings: Modern AU, fluff, romance, gangster Levi, slight yandere Levi, becoming a couple.

Levi meets you kicking all kinds of ass in an alley so you can save a box of kittens. He is instantly smitten and grants you and your animal shelter protection. Levi becomes a little bit obsessed with you.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

It was like the heavens had opened and gifted him the most perfect woman in the world. Your body was divine, your strength and ferocity arousing, and that sexy smile you had on your face as you slammed your foot into a low-ranking gangster was incredible.

Levi was walking the streets near the edge of Erwin's zone to see if scumbags were running around. He came to an alley and heard some shouting about someone being a bitch and a whore. When he looked down he saw you and got ready to save the day, but you surprised him.

You kicked one man in the balls making him double over allowing you to kick him across the face. Once he was taken care of you grabbed the other's head and slammed it against the brick wall. The last got a fist to the face and then a firm kick.

Levi was in love. He needed you, wanted you.

He moved closer to you as his heart compelled him. "Impressive."

You panted a bit. "You want your shit kicked in too?"

Levi put his hands up. "No, I'm good. Tch, these lot aren't. You in a gang?"

You turned and walked away. "Nope, just really passionate about animals." You picked up a box with five kittens in it. "Worry not little ones, I've got you now."

Levi stared at the cats. "What are you?"

You gazed at Levi. "Animal rescue."

"Animal rescue who knows self-defence?"

"You never know when you need to kick someone's head in."

Levi hummed a little. "You're right." He stepped on one man waking up. "I have a proposition for you. I work for the scout gang."

You walked past him. "Good for you."

"I can provide help and get a few scouts to assist you."

You stopped by your car and stared at Levi. "What's the catch?"

He opened your car door. "Spend time with me."

You stared at him for a while before checking him out. "Like a date?"

"Yes."

You put the kittens in your car and stood up and eyed him. "Sure."

Levi's heart raced. "Really? Perfect. We'll move your business and home to scout region so you can be safe."

You smiled. "You're cute. What's your name."

"Levi."

You gave your name. "Nice to meet you."

Levi released a long love filled sigh and watched you drive off. He placed his hand on his heart and knew he was hooked. He wanted to see you again. He wanted to have you. He craved your touch, your voice and your smile.

He did everything he could to be near you and see you. He watched you from a distance and any man that got close to you, he scared away. You were his. He wanted you all to himself and he would do anything to keep you. You were his perfect dream.

He would watch your home and your new shop in the scout region. He would actively go with you to rescue animals just so he could be at your side and see you smile. He knew he shouldn't, but he would take some of your things just so he could have a piece of you always with him.

It all came to head one night inside your rescue shop.

Levi was watching you from his car making sure no one touched you. He relaxed a little and glanced over at the flowers next to him as he debated about handing them over. He wasn't the best at romance or getting his feelings out, but with you he was in deep.

"Hey Levi!"

Levi flinched and looked at his open window to see you leaning in. "H-Hi."

You smiled at him. "You know, this could be classed as stalking."

He gulped hard. "I-I know, b-but I'm ch-checking on you. I-I'm making s-sure you're safe."

You leaned on the door. "That's so cute." You looked at the passenger seat. "Those for me?"

"Y-Yes."

You leaned closer and kissed him. "Thank you."

He blushed hard. "I uh...you're welcome."

You pulled back and opened his door and got in. You straddled Levi and closed the door. "Much better."

Levi gulped hard. "This is a dream come true."

You giggled. "Same. I've liked you for a long time and I've been trying to hint to you I want you because I know you want me. However, my flirting skills are lacking so I'll do this." You tangled your fingers in Levi's hair as he grabbed your ass. You kissed each other with deep loving passion. "I want to be yours."

Levi panted a little as he felt many deep desires inside him. "I want you to be mine. I'll spoil you all the time. I'll shower you in love. I need you."

You ran your hands down Levi's chest. "I'm all yours."

[wishingwrites]

Hello, Writblrs!

Hey, everyone! After lurking around writblr for a bit I'm going to give jumping in a try. If it looks like I don't know what I'm doing it's cuz I don't.

I'm Cam, and I write mostly fantasy, usually with some fluffy romance thrown in. Definitely lots of queer characters, though that's hardly a surprise on here. I get lots of inspiration from fairy tales and myths, especially stuff with the fae, witches, gods, and magical animals.

My favorite authors are Marissa Meyer, Jim Butcher, Robin McKinley, N.K. Jemisin, Heather Blake, and Anne Rice. If anyone has book recs I'd love to hear them! Especially queer fantasy with wlw and nonbinary characters in the main cast. I feel like my own taste is kind of going stale at the moment...

What else? I like to play video games, especially Hades, Pokémon, Slay the Spire, Inscryption, Hollow Knight, Dark Souls, and all the LoZ games. I'm finally finally finally learning how to play the Pokémon card game after all these years lol.

But enough about me, I want to hear from you guys! My dash is empty, so I need writers to follow! Especially if you write:

Sapphic or wlw fantasy, but any queer fantasy in general

Vampires (don't judge me pls)

Strong platonic relationships as well as romance

Deities as characters who interact with the human ones

Have cool creatures or lovable animal characters

Funny dialogue

Anything really--part of why I'm here is to improve and broaden my horizons!

I'm totally open to asks and tag games!

So I only really have one atm. It's called Girlfriend of the Gods. A silly title I know but it's a pretty silly story.

It's a Cinderella-type tale about a girl who doesn't fit in and accidentally gets the attention of the goddess of death and her brother the god of wind by making a wish. It's got a magical shapeshifting chameleon and an evil book. See? Silliness. I'll get around to making a proper introduction for it if anyone's interested.

That's pretty much it. I look forward to meeting people and making some friends to grow along with.

[umbracirrus]

Sujamma Sundas!

I have been asked by Sujamma to talk about some OCs which I don't talk about as much! @lathepoquerose

Tagging you @hircines-hunter because I know you've got a lot of OCs :3 And anyone else who has OCs they don't talk about often. I'm poking and tagging you all >:3

Now, the thing is... I have a lot of OCs. I don't talk about many of them much! So you're going to get a handful of them! I've got art that I've made for all of them, but only screenshots of two! Also I'll ramble. A lot. There will be paragraphs. I'll limit myself to three OCs - Aina, Ragna, and Drissa. lol.

Aina

So, Aina is the daughter of my main dragonborn Elyse and Jarl Balgruuf, born in late 4E 209.

She's a scholar and mage at heart, always with her nose in a book - this started out as her reading Farengar's 'picture books' when she was little, which were decidedly not for children, but instead a combination of his research and books on history and magic. She eventually becomes Farengar's protege (after a lot of begging and pleading, before stubbornly planting herself in his study and giving him no choice but to accept she was there and wanted to assist him), before becoming court mage for first her father, then her big brother Frothar after Balgruuf steps down as Jarl when he gets older.

She is known for being quite kind and insightful, though she can be stubborn and is very easy to agitate... A combination of both the best and worst parts of her parents!!

Ragna Copper-Vein

Ragna is a bit of a hothead. Unfortunately quite literally, as she burns the side of her face with magic when she is stopped from trying to kill Jarl Siddgeir. So where does she end up after that...? As his housecarl, obviously.

She actually starts off living a very normal life! Just her and her parents, Agniki and Gjard, in Shor's Stone, though when they need to make a trip through Falkreath when she is about nine years old, they get attacked by bandits from the nearby Knifepoint Ridge. Agniki and Gjard get killed, but one of bandits, Fenric, takes pity on Ragna when he finds her hiding and spares her, bringing her into the fold at the Ridge. She hates it at first, clinging only to Fenric as he was the only one kind to her, but as time goes by, Fenric takes charge and all of a sudden, everyone started trying to get on her good side to get onto his.

But then Siddgeir becomes Jarl. Starts demanding payments for the land. Fenric grows bitter and distant, even from Ragna, and they start arguing a lot. Any bond between them almost completely shattered when he yelled at her to stop acting as though he was her father and blaming her for them not having enough money to pay Siddgeir off. So what's her logical next step? Get the one who is causing trouble (aka Siddgeir) to back away. So she goes to Falkreath, gets an audience with Siddgeir, and when he realises she has no money, begins to order for Knifepoint Ridge to be eradicated. Ragna doesn't take that well, tries to kill Siddgeir, burns her face, and gets arrested.

In the meantime, Fenric and Siddgeir figure out a deal. Siddgeir keeps Ragna in Falkreath and gets to 'use her as an example' in return for letting off the ridge's debts. So Ragna gets a life jail term and feels very betrayed. Except Siddgeir also actually manages to order for the destruction of the bandits. Leaving her the only one alive.

Then Helvard gets killed by the dark brotherhood some weeks later. Siddgeir isn't happy that he doesn't have a housecarl. So Nenya makes a suggestion... why not hire the person who got closest to killing you, because money seemed to incentivise her? And after some thought (a whole ten seconds of it), Siddgeir agrees. It's totally not because he is infatuated by the foul-mouthed, strong, red-headed lady who almost killed him. Totally not.

So. Yeah. Ragna ends up becoming his housecarl. They do eventually end up together after an... incident in the Thalmor Embassy (the incident being him making her wear a dress and something something pinned against a door in the blue palace afterwards something). But they will 100% deny there being anything going on between them.

Drissa Arys

Drissa is one of my Oblivion OCs! She's known as a hero of Kvatch alongside one of my other OCs, Florian Livius, as they get arrested at the same time and thrown into the same cell at the beginning of the main quest.

She spent a the earliest years of her life in Morrowind, but spent most of her life in Cyrodiil as an orphan and that's what she remembers. She's not used to people, and doesn't really care for fostering relationships. It made her the perfect mould for an arena fighter, with nothing to lose but everything to gain as she fought her way through the ranks. When she eventually defeats the Grey Prince and becomes Grand Champion, she finally feels that she has done something worthwhile in her life... just for her to lose it months later when she gets arrested after having been framed for what was an incredibly brutal murder which was obviously her because it was done with a hammer and she fights with a hammer!

She and Florian escape jail, deliver the Amulet of Kings, find Martin, save what was left of Kvatch... and when she is asked if she wants to join the Blades, that's when she parts ways with Florian. She doesn't care for all that, she wants to get answers for why somebody would steal away the one thing which she had done with her life, and sets out seeking revenge for her wrongful arrest. She leaves a trail of bodies behind her in the process, unknowing that those who had been asked to frame her had now taken an interest in her.

Killing the one behind it all was cathartic to her... and is what earns her an invite to join the Dark Brotherhood. She accepts, because if there's one thing she has learned... perhaps the spotlight wasn't right for her. Perhaps killing in the shadows was better. And it came with the promise of family... for a time.

[sarcophagid]

@macabre-changeling idv in brief (in long)

disclaimer: i haven't played the game itself (no storage + i dont love multiplayer) but i have read the lore for the 'main story'. despite this i'm not done going through all the lore yet 😭 so take with a grain of salt

gameplay wise 🧂:

identity v is about 4 survivors playing tag in the woods with a hunter, until they either escape by decoding ciphers or die to the hunter via bleeding or rocket chair (i've heard this is very similar to dead before daylight).

there are 'story mode' cutscenes which play out the 'canon' events of the game

the game also has 'essences', which are a collection of skins and accessories with a common theme or storyline separate from the 'canon' events.

lore wise:

it's about an old mansion somewhere in england (?) where they hold death games in order to study 'something' about the participants (they havent explained why yet 💀).

the main/player character is orpheus, an author-turned-detective with amnesia who has a past in the manor. someone hires him to find their daughter, so he goes back to the manor for both the job and to figure out what he was previously doing there.

the story has a lot of reality-bending elements as well as dipping into supernatural areas with certain characters/games

manor games:

games keep private records of the contestants, and players also keep personal diaries of their events.

there are always 5 players, and usually a running theme between them. players are invited by letter from the baron of the manor

when all 5 players show up, they begin the game itself, which is where they start dying

sometimes- if not always, the games will drug the players involved. it's also the 1900s and they're probably inhaling microparticles of lead from the wall paint with every breath, so they like to emphasize unreliable narrators a lot. imo this... has it's ups and downs in terms of writing quality.

the cast:

i think? one of the biggest appeals of the game is the characters. like the majority of people (guilty myself) just focus on putting their favorites in weird situations. not saying the worldbuilding and overall lore is terrible, but it updates much slower than character releases. i've seen some fanart etc. disregard 'canon games' altogether and just post their characters in a certain 'essence' or use the non-story gamemode as their setting

each playable character has a simple backstory upon release, with more lore dropped every year on their 'character day' (i do not love this system lol but who am i to speak)

some characters are both survivors and hunters, called an 'identity switch system'.

BONUS who is ithaqua and/or nathaniel

Mister Ithaqua Identity V is a playable hunter

he was raised by a woman who was persecuted as a witch and he grew up isolated until the Incident, where she got kidnapped by a mob. then, he had to go bust her out and kill the main guy* who did it. but by the time that happened she was severely traumatized and he didn't know what he could do to treat her so he started pretending to be a monster with magic powers and killing people who went in the woods in an attempt to protect her.

i'm a big fan of his sigma mindset and creepy mannerisms.

*Nathaniel Norwell is a random npc. he's the 'only son' of the magistrate and also ithaqua's twin brother separated at birth.

he highkey sucks + gun to my head i couldn't tell you what i see in him 😔 but the seeing gaze itself is very strong i tell you. it's like a death ray and i'm killing him

OVERALL! it's a very mixed bag. there are more issues i didn't go into here 😭, and i think the story is a bit tricky to follow since it's very scattered and not chronological. regardless i still enjoy the lore and characters a lot 👍. idk if i can recommend since i don't play but it is free to play so there's nothing to lose but time

[mr-aftons-rotting-pussy]

ok but actually. i know i said this in the tags on ur post but genuinely i love ur faggy infinites i love ur attitude i love how u post whatever u want and put it in the main tags bc u are unapologetically urself when it is so easy to try and fit in. u have the confidence i aim to have for myself and it's so refreshing to see somebody who embraces being Weird <3 i've never engaged because i am unwell about people being aware of me but i've literally been lurking on you and the dog and hog gang for at least a year (i never really spoke much about liking them despite having interest for years) and. just. you're all so chill. the critical thinking, lack of judgement, this world needs more of that shit fr!! i hope u have a great day – good vibes from a transfag autism brained freak (and thank u for ur tags on my essay. i'm so glad other people care as much as me <3)

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I IWISJ I COULS ANSWER TJIS AND KEEP TJIS IM ,MY IMBOX FOREVER RAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IM SO GLAD U LOVE MY BOYSSSSSSS<33333 RAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! i usually try n segment my replys to address every beat but this is so much........ to my liddle tiny heaet........ im ,iteralkly cyinf rnn can you tell????? UIVTBJVJBJVBKJ. this means. the world to me<33333 im glad<33 im glad i can inspire some of that in u<3 like for the longest time i was literally larping as one of the normies :sob: like i get it 100% the want 2 fit in and b accepted esp in fandom is strong but in my case it is utterlly unsustainable 2 follow the crowd. i cant pretend i dont like what i like. i cant pretend to be normal r have normal relationships 2 things r have normal opinions jnkjjkjbjk. and its hard!!!!!! there rlly isnt a real tangible space to be fucking insane and into weird n gross shit n etc in fandom like there is for the sanitized kiddy friendly stuff or the hyper horny stuff, its an awkward middle line 2 tread.(n im wayy too autistic 4 fandom anyways.... lol) and ik im not the only one. i wouldnt b able 2 be so unabashed and real and freaky w/o the support of all the amazing ppl ive met in my little freak circle<3333(IT IS SOOOOOO cheesey n cringe-sounding but im being so fr when i say my weirdoes n infinite the jackal saved my life<3333333333 i literally probably wouldnt even b alive today w/o em<333 thanks 2 all of u for helping me grow stronger btw hehe....)

Every day i choose to be insane and gross and a freak and a transexual faggot and autistic and TOO MUCH !!! for meself obv<3 but also for the ones i love and ppl like YOU!!!!!!!!!! >:D i cant change the world w just my little paws. but i CAN b crazy on main. i CAN show everyone that you dont have 2 be afraid of your own interests for fear of not being accepted in the greater fandom<333 even if these ppl never rlly come out of their shell... theres always someone, someplace out there thatll accept u. theres always more freaks, theres always more faggots<3 even if you never come out and yell it to the world if i could inspire just a tiny bit of this love in ppl thatd be enough for me :)

anyways. lol. kjnobjbiubjk thank you<33 a lot<3333 i mean it<333333 so many words i wish to say in this moment but ik you get it<3 mwamwa<333333333

life is short babey!!! dont be such a stranger okay ^_^